#for once I only doodled. But watch me come back to at least one of these at a later date when I have more confidence

[tubbytarchia]

I think my Tango becomes more of a cat each time I draw him oh no

bonus:

#Thank you kind anons!!!! #rancher duo #team ranchers #tangotek #jimmy solidarity #double life fanart #trafficshipping #trafficblr #part of me wants Tango as a lanky guy close to Jimmy's height. A much larger part of me wants him as a hell of a creature #its okay other rancher fanart will keep me fed on both <3 #for once I only doodled. But watch me come back to at least one of these at a later date when I have more confidence #tubby art

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile III

<-Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

Pairing: Alastor x Female!Reader

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: Well, well, this chapter is pure fluff. I really liked how it ended up. Please, enjoy it.

“ Can I come in yet?” you asked, outside Alastor’s bedroom, waiting for him to open the door.

You’ve been waiting for five minutes and you weren’t known for being a patient person. You were having a sleepover at Marie’s house after weeks of begging, from you at least. When your mothers said yes, you couldn’t be more ecstatic and even Alastor seemed happier than usual. He did ask you to come with a pretty dress because he had a new game he wanted to play with you. It was unusual but exciting ! 

So here you were, waiting in your pretty dress, your hair perfectly done, and a frown on your face. How long were you going to wait for him? You were ready to knock once again on his door but it jerked open before you could touch it. And there was your friend, his hair slicked back, his glasses on and his usual smile on his lips. You kissed him on both cheeks before he tugged you inside his bedroom.

“ Welcome to my humble Radiobooth !” He said with glee as he showed you his desk with paper spread on it, and.. was it a microphone ? You tilted your head as he forced you to sit down on one side of the bureau. He took the microphone, and spoke.

“ Welcome New Orleans to Alastor’s podcast ! Thank you for tuning in, today I’m thrilled to announce that I will not be alone, I am blessed with the best singer in all Lousianna !” he claimed and shoved the microphone to your face. You looked at his beaming smile and understood what he wanted from you. You smiled as you spoke into the microphone.

“ Thank you Alastor, I’m very pleased and proud to be here, with the best radio host in the world!” you declared, trying to sound ladylike. You grinned at him as you saw his smile sketch at your words.  He gave you some paper with doodles and notes that you began to read the fattest you could as he kept talking.

“ Would you like to talk about something, Miss ?” asked Alastor as he watched you read the notes he gave you. You nodded as you spoke into the microphone, Alastor holding it for you.

“ Well, yes. Last week, at school, a girl mocked my voice, saying I sounded like a dying pig!” You ignored Alastor’s sniggeer as you kept playing your role, reading the topic you were suppose to talk about. 

“ How dreadful ! How could she say something like this?”

“ Right ?” , you decided to go off script, putting the notes down “ but you should have heard her screams when I pushed her into a puddle of mud. Now, who is the pig?” you hid your smile behind your hand like a proper lady as Alastor’s laughter roared in his bedroom, his head tilted back. You giggled as he calmed himself down, holding the microphone to his lips.

“ Oh dear, you sure know how to put up a fight!” He looked down at his notes still giggling.” I did have something similar happening to me: a boy , talking badly about my mother.”

“ What?! How dare he ? I hope you put him in his place !” you shouted, feeling anger circling inside your body. Wait, was it for real or was it part of the show?

“ Indeedy I did, dear. I punched the poor fool, but it seemed like I hit too hard and he went crying somewhere and I was unfairly punished. This is why, my dear, our sleepover was delayed to this day!” he smiled as your mouth was wide open. You applauded him as he beamed with pride.

“ You did well, Mister Alastor!”

You kept doing your broadcast with Alastor, going off script when you wanted to talk about something that happened and he wasn’t there with you. Sometimes you would just shut your mouth and listen to him telling stories, real or not. You could listen to him all afternoon but he always insisted that you participate in the debate or the stories he created. He sometimes teased you as you didn’t know what to say or you couldn’t understand what he meant but you were really having a great time.

“ Oh, so she fell in love? What did you say then?”

“ That she better get up. Now dear listener, we are ready to hear your question !” he said before turning his head toward his door as Marie came inside with food and drinks. “ Oh well, here is the best cook in all of New Orleans, please come Moth- Madame! A round of applause for our new guest!” he said as he stood up, gesturing to his mother to come closer.

Marie laughed as she sat next to you, putting the tray on the desk, minding the notes all over it. You applauded with a big smile as Marie bowed her head. 

“ It’s a pleasure to be here!”

~~~

It truly seemed like Marie was having the time of her life as she was holding her belly, laughing loudly.

“ No Mister Alastor! Sweets are the best food you could ever eat if you weren’t so picky with what  you ate!” you shouted, slamming your fist on the table.

“ Are you saying that my mother’s food is not the best, you brat?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed but still with his cunning smiling face.

“ I’ve never said that! Don’t put words in my mouth !”

“ That’s what I get for inviting a singer.”

“ Hey !”

Marie applauded before wiping her tears from her eyes. She kissed you both on the forehead before saying she had things to do but she hoped she would be invited once more for another broadcast.

You watched as she left the bedroom before turning your attention to Alastor who was writing notes on papers. You tilted your head before clapping your hands together as you remembered what you wanted to say to Alastor before he made you wait in front of his door.

“ I found a name for our cat!”

“ Our cat?”

“ The one who always hisses at you, yes. Let’s call him… Hissker!”

“ … Well, ladies and gentlemen, we will be back, for now, please enjoy this music I choose for you!” He turned on his radio so you could be lulled by the music. He laid his microphone on the table and sighed as he raised an eyebrow to you. “ Hissker ? I guess it’s because he is always hissing toward me but.. It doesn’t really sound right.”

“ Well.. Hiss.. Hiss…” you tried to find a good name that would satisfy Alastor. “ What about Husker ?” you asked and smiled when you saw Alastor nod. “ It was a very funny game, I hope we will play it again!”

Alastar grinned as he shook his head. “ It is not over yet, we haven't gone through all the notes yet. And you need to sing at the end of the broadcast, aren’t you the best singer in Louisiana ?” he taunted you with a smirk. “ Plus, we have the listener’s question to answer!” He stood up and went to take letters and put them in front of you. You took one and opened it.

“ What is your favorite color ?” you read before tilting your head, looking at Alastor. “ You want to know my favorite color?” He shook his head, claiming that it was the audience’s question, not his ! You smiled, feeling warm inside, it was not everyday that Alastor was curious about you like this, but you didn’t dare to tease him about it. 

“ Welcome back dear listeners ! Our singer here is ready to answer all of your questions !” he took the letters and began to read its content to you. You answer all the questions with sincerity and joy. “ If you could have a superpower, what would it be?”

“ Flying !” you giggled.

“ And now, our last question before our guest’s performance. What do you think about our dear radio host Alastor ?” he stared at you, the letter hiding the bottom of his face you could only see his eyes. You took the microphone from his hand, he surprisingly let you, and with a big smile you shouted.

“ He is the best !”

Your smile widened as Alastar laughed at your answer, clapping into his hands. You felt warm seeing him so happy. You gave him back his microphone but he shook his head and tugged you toward the living room, where a beautiful piano was waiting for you. You looked at Alastor, you didn’t know how to play the piano and he knew that so why…

“ Dear listeners, it’s almost time to say au revoir but before that let’s listen to our beautiful singer here.” he sat on the bench before the piano and began to play a melody. You blushed as you held on the microphone, feeling shy. You looked at Alastor who was watching you, with a big grin before closing his eyes. You took a big breath as you recognized the melody that he played. It was one of your favorite songs… 

You began to sing shyly, waiting for Alastor to laugh at you but he was keeping his eyes closed, moving with the rhythm of the piano’s keys. You closed your eyes as you held the microphone near your mouth, beginning to feel freer and freer. You smiled as you began to dance in the living room, your dress twirling around you. You jumped, moving your head with the rhythm singing like nobody was watching. You were having so much fun, you felt exthrilled, you didn’t care if you were being too loud, if you didn't hit all the right notes.  You opened your eyes and fell into Alastor’s gaze. 

He was staring at you with a big smile, still playing the piano perfectly with a little bit of sweat near his forehead. His hair was no longer neatly slicked back, some curly locks of hair were falling in front of his face. You thought you would feel embarrassed that he was watching you being a dumb happy girl but you just smiled at him, dancing and singing. After a while, even Marie came and you danced with her, as you sang and Alastor kept playing.

It was perfect.

You finished your song, out of breath. Marie applauded you with a big grin as Alastor put his arms around your shoulder and crushed you against his chest. He took back his microphone, thanking his audience as you were looking at him. You remember him being a tad smaller than you, but now… Did he get taller? He forced you to bow before saying goodbye. 

“ It was an amazing performance ! Both of you, you can be proud of you. As a thank you, I have prepared Alastor’s favorite food: jambalaya ! “ She clapped her hands together. You tilted your head, you’ve never eaten this food but from Alastor’s face, you couldn’t wait to taste it.

~~~ 

“ You can sleep with me sweetie, my husband will not come home tonight.” said Marie as you shook your head, holding your plushie against your chest in your nightgown.

“ We are still playing with Alastor! When we are finished, I will join you.” you said with a shy smile. Alastor was behind you, waiting for his mother's permission to stay a little longer awake than usual.  She sighed but at your pleading eyes she accepted your request. You squealed with happiness before running into Alastor's bedroom and jumping on his bed. He came after you, looking at your plushie with a puzzled expression.

“ What is it ?”

“ Well, first of all, it’s a He and he is a deer.” you smiled as you explained that when you were five, you fell down a lake and because you have never learned how to swim, you were drowning but a deer came toward you and bent down his head so you could grab his antlers ! “ My parents said that it was a tree branch that fell down the lake but I’m sure it was a deer !” you pouted, sad that you parents never trust your story. Even if you couldn’t really remember well this story, you knew what you had seen. 

“ So, a deer saved your life from drowning…”

“ Yes, so my parents bought me this deer plushie so now, when I'm scared I can just squeeze him and feel safe!” you demonstrated your words by squeezing your plushie against you. “ Do you want to try it?” 

Alastor stared at you and then the plushie.

“ How can he protect you?”

You rolled your eyes at him before pushing your plushie in his arms. You forced him to hug it, once you were satisfied, you nodded and looked at Alastor who was clearly confused. “ Now, squeeze him !” You looked at him as he squeezed it, closing his eyes. 

You stared at Alastor. You remembered the bruises on his belly that you saw last month. You knew that fathers could be brutal with their son, to man them up as your friends used to say. Maybe Alastor was the same? You loved your plushie, you really did… But maybe, Alastor needed it more than you? You looked at the boy's expression, his eyes closed, his smile hiding in the plushie’s fur, he seemed so relaxed. You nodded, accepting your own decision, until Alastor was safe, you were going to give him your plushie.

“ Mister Deer could be our very first guest in our radio show?” you smiled at him, Alastor opening his eyes slowly, staring back at you. You gulped, maybe it was his show, you were just a guest. You opened your mouth to apologize but Alastor beat you to it.

“ I’d like that.” he whispered with a soft smile. “ Our first guest.”

Without being aware, you both laid down on the bed, Alastor still hugging your plushie. You kept talking even as the sun wasn’t in the sky anymore. You yawned for the third time in the last thirty seconds as you explained how to take care of Mister Deer.

“ Now that I have Mister Deer, who will protect you?” he asked, no trace of fatigue on his face. You smiled tiredly at him, putting your head on his pillow. It smelled like him. You didn’t know why you liked that fact.

“ Well, because you hold Mister Deer, it’s your job to protect me now.” 

“ … So, do I need to hug you?”

You stared at him, his eyes shining with the moon light. A hug from Alastor ? You looked away, blushing but you didn’t know why.

“ M-maybe but…Do you want to …?”

You felt him move and you flinched as he covered your eyes with his hand. You waited for him to answer but you were so tired and now that you were englushed into the darkness with his hand on your eyes you couldn’t help but fall asleep before your could hear his answer. 

~~~ 

Marie walked up the stairs, it was 11pm and it was time for the kids to go to bed. She opened the door to Alastor’s bedroom and couldn’t help but smile at the sweet scene in front of her. Alastor was hugging you with a deer plushie being squished between the two of you. She walked toward the bed and covered the both of you. Well, she couldn’t wait to tell that to your mother! She left the bedroom, closed the door quietly and went to bed.

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega

Ps: By the way, my deers, do you have an idea for the plushie's name ? I'm open to ideas.

#hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor headcanons #alastor scenarios #alastor scenario #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #fanfiction #alastor fanfiction #fiction #alastor fiction

[riinkun-art-stuff]

Howdy ho! I'm very excited to finally be able to share this illustration I worked on as part of this year's @bumblebybigbang for @tahnex's lovely and super fun fic (with no pain attached whatsoever), "Of Dragons and Panthers," which you can read here! As soon as I read the original notes on it this scene captured me so much I had to do something dramatic for it. It's been such a pleasure watching the whole collab come together, tysm for having me!

First time joining an event like this, and I'd love to again if the opportunity comes around hehe. Still a few postings to go on this one, the pieces before us this year have knocked it out of the park and I'm super excited to see the rest once they come around!

Made a few process cuts just for fun, which I left under the cut!

I did do a few sketches roughly before I started out, especially based on other parts of the chapter, but this particular composition was so fixed in my mind that I ended up just sticking with it. In retrospect, I would've loved to go back and do some more thorough exploration for it. Here are a few of the sketches I managed to fish back up:

I also was thinking of trying a few other doodles/another big piece, but ended up not really having the time between other obligations :')

And the sketch I finally settled on:

Inking was SUCH a fun process on this piece in particular. I'm a huge fan of how dragon!Yang's mane turned out, especially, and all the detailing on the head and around Blake's fur and such. Feel like I'm really satisfied w the particular way the line weight variations came out, and it's where the piece shines the most imo.

Panther!Blake, too. Oh gosh. I feel like it took me a lot of reworking to get her structure to a point where she felt very leopard-like, rather than any other type of big cat- especially around the head.

Colours were such a challenging part. There was a big feeling I had for that glow coming off dragon!Yang in the middle of the heavy rain- I love seeing that sort of effect in real life so that's something I'm really hoping to work to capture better as I practice. Trying to get dragon!Yang's slight iridescence in there and to balance out the lighting on panther!Blake's fur each took a long time, too- I'm only a pinch sad that a good chunk of it is covered by other lighting effects XD

Blake's rosettes were SO fun. Augguhugg.

In terms of backgrounds. HOO boy I was going through a strange patch in life while working on the background and final polish for this piece, which is why (at least I feel like) it looks kinda rushed. I have been practicing natural landscapes and doing some observational studies but still struggling to get those rock shapes quite right, which I think is a big make or break point of something like this. I did really enjoy toying around with inking on the foliage and foreground layers of the ground, though! And in the end, lighting and effects ended up masking a lot of the big weak spots :D

I think natural effects like smoke/steam, and rain, are big things that I got to practice more of in this piece, but also really would like to get better at in future. Esp since I feel like it's been a great opportunity to mess around with different colours and brushes that I use way less, which I'm always grateful for w painting. I think just layering the rain on its own ended up being about 10 odd layers?

I think the only other thing I would have loved to improve is to just help the piece feel more Bumbleby™ in the final look. I think I like the cool colours of the lighting for this particular outcome, but I also would have probably tried to have made things much clearer (ahem at the very least switch to yellow/purple) in the long run in terms of representation and resemblance. Ik that at least for me it is fairly easy to associate the two characters with dragons and panthers since I'm more familiar w the fandom lingo around these two, but esp for outsiders I feel like it's probably not great at conveying who they are, and why they are potentially in this situation.

I'd also love to try and find a shading style that still has a painterly quality but compliments the inking a bit better, rather than overpowering it.

I think that, on the whole, I am pretty satisfied with the piece and had a great time working with Tahnex on the whole collab! And I've also has a fun time reading his work and notes in return, and thank you so much for being so so patient with me even as my updates were slow n rocky at points :'D

That's about all I got, have a great day y'all! Still a few big bang postings to go, so very excited for those once they come around!

#riinkun art stuff #my art #digital art #bumbleby big bang #bbb2023 #rwby #YIPPEEEE #very very happy to finally be able to show this off aaaaahugghh!!!! #it's been v cool working on this collab- tysm for having me again! :'D

[comicaurora]

Hello! I wanted to send my appreciation to you as a longtime fan of OSP and Auroura! I am an English Major with ADHD and your content always makes me inspired and my English Lit. Brain very happy with how good your storytelling is.

My question is what stories inspire you to write or make you want to sit down and tell a story? Your content makes me want to work on my projects, but my Adhd only last as long as I am not disturbed (i.e. need to eat or get up and move). You have always been upfront about your Adhd so my second question is how do you keep focused on your story and not burn out? (Talking as someone who is writing a novel as their thesis)

You have been a great inspiration over the years and someone I look up to as a storyteller! I wish you focus and luck! => 💝

Woo! Interesting questions!

When it comes to inspiration, I haven't really found a pattern for what works and what doesn't. The majority of the time, only new experiences/stories I haven't seen or read before work for me - rewatches and re-reads, while much more comfortable for my brain, don't tend to translate into creative inspiration for me - but it's not like a specific genre, or even a specific kind of relaxation, consistently work for me.

The way my brain works is a bit "no take only throw", as it were. I want to just sit down and make solid, steady progress in a predictable environment with a routine, but what I need is to try new things, go outside, take risks - because all those things give me new material to work with and refill the creative gas tank. When I'm stuck, I can't just hit the gas and punch through the block - I need to back up and try a new angle.

The good part of all this is that whatever engine that's running my subconscious is actually pretty good at signaling what it needs. The ADHD brain will be repelled by activities that aren't working for it and drawn to the things it needs at the time, whether that's creative energy or exercise or cleaning or doodling or listening to music or suddenly binge-watching a show that's not even all that great, and once it's got what it needs out of it - whatever that is - it'll be repelled again, either spitting out a sudden burst of creative energy or retreating to its den to chew on whatever it got out of the experience for a more slow-building reward. Little bursts of motivation and creativity pop up all throughout the day, and if you can pivot to the activity in question - or at least note down the idea you just had - you'll be able to harness that pretty nicely.

This "system" really only works for me because I have an extremely unstructured schedule and nobody relying on me to be consistent moment-to-moment. If I'm following the creative needs of my inscrutable Better Writer In The Back Of My Head, I can't be worrying about things like a consistent lunchtime or classes or a 9-to-5. All of my observations are caveat'd by the fact that I am ridiculously lucky to have the kind of freedom of movement and schedule that I can focus entirely on getting to know my brain better.

When it comes to staying focused on any one project, I've reluctantly concluded that the only way to win is not to play. Creativity needs time and diversity to recharge, and when you stall out in any given work session, it's usually because you're out of gas. This is why I maintain several projects in varying stages of "for my eyes only"-ness - a sketchbook, private writing projects, patreon doodles, music practice; even in the large-scale projects like the channel and the comic I have multiple angles of attack at any given time, where I can as needed switch between scripting, research, drawing frames, storyboarding more plot onto the end of the comic's current draft and lining/coloring/background-ing the finalized pages of the comic chapters earlier. This lets me maintain semi-steady progress on average, even if any one facet of the process is left by the wayside for potentially even weeks at a time.

If you're working on one writing project, one novel, I'd recommend giving yourself some time to do small-scale side-hobbies. It won't feel like they're helping, but they are.

I've started to think of inspiration rather similarly to the way I think about nutrition and digestion. It's a somewhat arcane process that, despite being a part of me, I don't exactly understand what's going on under the hood. If you eat only one thing, no matter what that one thing is, you're going to end up sick because you're lacking all sorts of niche micronutrients. If you parcel out a specific space of the only things you're allowed to eat, you might not get sick (as quickly) but you're likely going to become increasingly miserable as you think of the things you're not allowing yourself to try, or slowly build up highly specific forms of malnourishment by avoiding certain things entirely. But if you start listening to your body and try eating what it says it needs at any given time - oh, I could go for a rice bowl right now, oh I don't think I'm feeling something sugary today, man I could really go for some grapes - you're likely to hit a broadly good balance of health because you're hitting a broad range of things your body needs, even if you don't know all of their names or calorie counts, and your body is putting those resources to good use without your conscious input. Between my brain and my stomach, I only trust one of those to actually understand what a stomach needs to do its thing - and between me and my creative brain, most of the time it feels like I just work here.

I hope there was something helpful in all this!

#asks #not aurora #writing stuff

[gh0st-t0wn3]

Lmk ss edits + Headcanons, Part 2 (Pigsy, Tang, Sandy, Sun Wukong, Macaque)

- He/Him

- Bisexual

- Huge environmentalist, if you put any garbage or recycling in the wrong bin expect to get at least a three hour lecture, no you can not escape this, yes MK and Mei have tried, no they did not succeed

- ONLY shops from farmers markets/family businesses, you will never catch this man supporting a corporation

- Use to steal Tang's college hoodies

- Took him the longest to get used to having Redson around and a part of the group , but eventually warmed up to him (is still kinda salty about Redson burning MK's room though)

- Grows his own herbs

- Gets incredibly frustrated when he gets the hiccups (writing this as I'm fighting off hiccups)

- Loves watching true crime shows and listening to true crime podcasts while he does household chores or while he's setting up/closing the shop

- Got his ears pierced with Tang

- MK and Mei call him mom when he's being overbearing, Tang calls him mom now too to tease him

- Once caught Mei and MK sneaking food out of the kitchen at 3am and beat them with a broom for a solid minute because he was too drowsy to recognize them and assumed they were intruders (they were fine)

- Is the type of person to call his husband (Tang) "bro", "dude" etc

- Got drunk in college once and talked about nothing but how much he loved Tang, didn't remember any of it the next day but Tang asked him out pretty quickly after that

- Exchanged a few recipes with DBK while they were at the beach, they still do exchange more recipes once in a while but they don't talk much outside of cooking related topics

- Learned how to play dnd in college because Tang liked the game and ended up liking it a lot more than he expected to so they wound up playing together all the time (they still play it once in a while if they have time)

- Him and Sandy get together every other weekend to try and help Pigsy with his anger management issues

- Never called MK his son while he was growing up because he was scared that MK's real family would show up one day to take him back home, finally realized that no one was gonna show up a short while after MK turned 10 and started acting like an actual parent (MK always saw Pigsy as his dad though)

- Always says "this is the last time" when giving Tang free noodles (it is never gonna be the last time, and Tang knows it)

- Once bumped into a mannequin at the mall and apologized to it, Tang still makes fun of him

- Use to take Mei and MK to conventions all the time until Mei learned how to drive and could take them herself

- Won't care for people getting hurt in movies but will be absolutely crushed if something happens to an animal (sobbed when he watched "A Dog's Purpose")

- Smells like noodles

- Love language is acts of service

- Keeps trying to convince Tang to come with him to family events, has yet to succeed

- Carries around an extra pair of headphones in case Tang or MK needs them

- Almost threw hands with DBK and PiF after hearing about how they treated Redson (seriously guys, I need Redson to have a good parental figure in the next season, please), this man is a father to everyone

- Snores loud as fuck, it's a wonder how Tang gets any sleep

- No fashion sense what's so ever

- Insomnia

- He/Him

- Gay

- Once zoned out and stared at a wall for six hours straight

- Desk is covered in pencil shavings and pen ink

- Constantly bruised from always falling (weak ankles)

- Fluent in Polish, don't ask why, it just feels right

- Doodled all over his books in school (they made him pay for new ones)

- Never up before sunrise

- Got in some random dudes car once thinking it was a taxi and almost got himself kidnapped

- Will make the most annoying, smart-ass remark to anything anyone says

- I'm not actually sure if it's ever mentioned in the show what Tang does for a living but it doesn't matter, he's a college history professor now

- Has grandma floral bedsheets (we've all seen his sleepwear, you cannot tell me that man doesn't have grandma floral bedsheets)

- Somehow always cold

- Constanly napping, he can and will fall asleep if he's left alone for too long (his students once caught him asleep at his desk after lunch break and dipped class)

- Used to have hexagon glasses cause he thought they looked cool but found out Pigsy liked circular ones better so he got new ones

- Still has a septum piercing he got while he was in college but keeps it flipped up, he also has ear gauges

- When he met Pigsy's parents he was super nervous and ended up passing out half way through the night because of anxiety, he has not lived it down and refuses to go to any events with Pigsy if his family is gonna be there (they actually really liked him and are disappointed when he doesn't show up)

- Doesn't own a bookshelf for some reason, everything is just piled on the floor

- Very faint freckles

- Needs a daily 'to do' list, his whole day gets thrown off if he doesn't have some kind of schedule

- Maladaptive daydreamer

- Never showers, only takes baths

- Needs headphones on crowded transportation otherwise he'll get stressed at all the noises and talking overlapping eachother

- Severe rsd (rejection sensitivity dysphoria,  "benched" was an especially bad time for him)

- Number one art appreciator and constantly drags Pigsy to museums

- Smells like a library (please tell me you know what smell I mean)

- Love language is gift giving ( and you KNOW he loves you when he shares his food with you willingly)

- 76% of the clothes he owns are thrifted

- Blind as a fucking bat, if he looses his glasses he's on the floor feeling around for them like Velma,  I swear they could be two feet in front of him but he won't even notice

- Hypersomnia

- He/Him

- Bisexual

- Huge conspiracy theorist, ask him anything and he'll have some in depth explanation on how it relates to cryptids or something (I'm talking Matpat level conspiracy theorist, seriously, someone get him help)

- Slowest typer on the planet (mainly because the screen is too small for his hands), will respond to something 3-5 minutes after they changed topics

- Made seed bombs and threw them everywhere at random around the city and now there's a bunch of flowers and vines growing everywhere

- Was the first one (Aside from Mei and MK) to welcome Redson into the group with open arms, everyone else was still kinda cautious

- Would literally die for any of his friends, no questions asked, no hesitation, just jumps in the line of danger as soon as he sees one of his friends about to get hurt

- Didn't have a lot of friends growing up until he met Pigsy in his last year of high school because everyone was afraid of him

- He and Pigsy were in a band together in college, Sandy discusses it with pride, Pigsy gets embarrassed and denies ever being in a band at all

- Since he also has scales he's the one who teaches and helps Mei look after her scales and keep them from drying or getting damaged

- Yoga master, wakes up super early to do it during sunrise

- Has the best taste in music, he can find the most amazing, tear jerking, heart wrenching, underground music ever effortlessly

- Hasn't met a single person he wasn't able to get along with

- Firmly believes in all the little wishing rituals (11:11, shooting stars, birthday candles, blowing dandelions etc)

- Learned how to whistle so he could sing along with birds

- *gets robbed* "oh, i bet he needed the money, it's ok"  "I really don't think he did." "...maybe he's gonna donate it!"

- Favourite kind of tea is earl grey

- Named one of his cats Maquack after Macaque

- Sometimes cat sits for Bai He when she goes to doctor appointments, family visits out of the city, etc

- Got his piercing while he was still in a band but kept them in because his band mates were some of his first friends and they all got pierced together

- Has a tail to help him swim better (unfortunately I could not add it in the edit above but just I imagine he has the same kind of tail as the water Na'vi in Avatar ig)

- Skin has a faint ombre to it (his hands and feet are lighter and fade around his forearms/knees to a slightly darker blue (i did add this one in my edit but unfortunately I don't think it's as visible as I wanted it to be, my bad)

- Webbed hands and feet to help him swim better

- Has adipose eyelids like a fish to protect his eyes from the water, block exposure of harmful ultraviolet light into his eyes and act as protection against impact to the eye in aquatic environments. Since his eyelids are transparent though, he has to wear a sleeping mask at night

- Smells like a mix of ocean air and tea

- Love language is quality time and physical touch (will pick up and hug his friends all the time no matter the place)

- His hair and beard always have something in them, sand, seaweed etc

- Shoes are actually really uncomfortable for him to wear because his body is evolved for an aquatic environment, but he doesn't want to be rude so he wears them anyway (Mei found out and got him a customized pair of shoes so he could be comfortable without feeling like he's being rude)

- Uses Kaomojis

- If he's not busy, or doesn't have anything planned for the next few hours, he'll spend his free time cleaning up the ocean and beaches from any garbage

- He/Him

- Pansexual

- Everything he has ever done has been an impulse decision

- Is the type of mf to kick the inside of someone knee while they're walking to make them fold (Tang is the primary victim)

- Chews his nails

- Made up his own constellations as a "fuck you" to the universe (somehow managed to convince some mortals they were real constellations too)

- Mk and Co constantly forget how ancient swk is until he says some old person shit

- Naturally has curly and untamable hair, uses glamor to avoid getting called out about not taking care of it

- Horrifically optimistic

- Always has leaves and dirt and sticks etc in his hair

- Will sit out in the rain for hours on end

- Follow up on the last hc, he's been struck by lightning.. twice

- Actually has really heavy eyebags but uses glamor to cover them up

- Gets bored super easily

- Has naturally long lashes, Mei is still convinced he's wearing makeup though

- Cannot cook for the life of him

- His memories are always in shades of gold, no ones sure if it hasn't something to do with his gold vision or not, even himself, he just can't remember things in normal colour

- Stress induced migraines from the circlet

- Not a fan of big cities but loves how the lights look at night

- Stacks of notebooks and loose paper, cannot keep anything organized

- Takes a nap everyday at exactly 2:38 without fail

- Freezes in the winter, man's house has no insulation whatsoever

- Doesn't like big crowds but also can't stand not being the center of attention

- Once picked fleas out of both MK's and his own hair and ate them, MK was and still is disgusted, he will never look at Monkey King the same way again

- Smells like Peaches (it's like the only fucking thing he eats)

- Love language is physical touch

- Kinda chubby (mostly around his stomach and thighs) but still has muscles

- Always teasing Redson about the fact that he's technically his uncle since he and DBK are sworn brothers, he finds Redson's overreactions to it funny but is secretly kinda hurt that Redson doesn't think of him as family anymore (He use to when he was a little kid but stopped seeing Wukong as family after he sealed DBK away. They've started to try and mend their relationship after the events of season 4, it's slow but it's progress)

- Sometimes the monkey's on FFM will come into his house through the windows at night to sleep with him for comfort

- Really bad with technology but pretends he's just too good for the internet so he can avoid using it without looking old

- He/Him

- Bisexual

- Says his "S"'s really sharply

- If you ask him anything about himself he'll give you a different answer to the exact same question everytime (he thinks it makes him mysterious,  it does not)

- Lower lid eyeliner >>>

- If you say something stupid or weird he'll just stare judgingly until you take it back

- Actually lost his mind when he found out what blowing bubbles were

- Drinks tea with an ungodly amount of sugar

- Chronic eye pain + headaches. It's gotten significantly better over the years but.. yk, eye gouged out

- Has a deeply relaxing voice, strangely enough

- Has tried to compliment people before but it always ends up coming off as an insult

- Classical music or heavy rock, no in-between

- It is literally impossible to take a bad picture of him

- Puts his hair up in a bun whe he doesn't wanna deal with it

- Has patches of freeze burns from LBD, along his right side (mostly just his arm).

- Theater kid

- Rose tea enjoyer

- Likes to bake sometimes and frequently exchanges recipes with Pigsy and DBK

- Like to watch the sunrise and sunset

- Hates being out in the sun too long, not having a shaded area nearby for an easy escape stresses him

- Will stare out the window while it rains, Mei once said he looked like he was pretending to be in a cringey early 2010 music video

- Hard of hearing, his six ears are very sensitive and all the fighting and screaming has definitely done some damage to them by now

- Follow up on the last HC, despite being hard of hearing he will either absolutely refuse to wear hearing aids, or will wear them (albeit begrudgingly) but cover them with glamor

- Septum and snake bite piercings he got during his emo phase

- Smells like grapes, don't ask

- Love language is quality time, he doesn't care to actually have a conversation, though, he's fine just sitting in comfortable silence

- Will use his shadow transport for the dumbest things when he's lazy, like teleporting the TV remote to him if it's on the other side of the couch, teleport a bag of chips from the pantry to him in his bedroom,  etc

- Room is covered in scented candles

- Sandy has invited him over to work out some of his problems multiple times, he doesn't really care to open up though, he just goes for the cats (Sandy let's him)

- His hair is always soft and he refuses to tell anyone what he washes with, MK has asked multiple times and he gets a different, vague answer everytime

#fanart #lego monkie kid #lego monkey kid fanart #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lmk sandy #lmk tang #lmk pigsy #freenoodleshipping #lmk freenoodles #monkie kid freenoodles #shadowpeach #lmk shadowpeach #lego monkie kid shadowpeach #lmk headcanon #headcanon #edit

[necros-writing-stuff]

Foxes and Minxes: Collabo'ween Day 21

GN!AFAB!Reader/M!Teacher!Bailey

Warnings: Me being very British with everything referenced here (sorry); Alcohol; Gloryhole; Hints of Yandere Reader; References to bullying; Condoms; Bailey POV and he feeling guilty; Only pronouns for reader are they/you.

Word Count: 4010

Notes: This is the telepathy mixed with teacher prompt! Bailey is not the telepathic one, though, and I kept it subtle methinks. It's also just fun to think of where Bailey might have ended up if he hadn't become the caretaker.

His paycheck is late. Again. Leighton has been holed up in his office all day yelling at delinquents, telling Bailey to come back later every time he'd popped his head in. The first round of students had set a bin on fire in the cafeteria. The second had been encouraging someone to moon passing cars at the gates. The third had popped River's tires. 

Sure, the kids here were usually shitheads, but to this level? It had to have something to do with graduation coming soon - they were all in their final year of Sixth Form afterall. Most of them being 18, but not fully grasping that they were adults yet and that they could be arrested for what they had been up to. 

Some of them were in his class: economics. Or rather, missing from his class today. They'd been put in the isolation room to write out lines at desks with screens on them so they couldn't talk to each other. Bailey had been in there once or twice as a kid, hell, Winter had been the one to put him in there a few times. Strange that they were now colleagues. Strange that Winter hadn't applied to be head of the school (or at least deputy) after all these years. 

As it was, with the shitheads mostly missing, his class was quiet. Sixth Form classes were smaller than the secondary education classes, the other teachers who had to handle both levels had it worse. Typically UK schools have all of the desks pushed into larger tables to facilitate group work and to make larger use of the room's space, but with how bad the students are here all of the desks had to be separated to discourage certain behaviours. 

Right up front was his favourite. A shy kid, huddled up with their notebook. He couldn't tell whether or not they were doing the work or absently doodling while their mind wandered. He didn't care either way. They'd finished their exams, the only reason they were still here in class was because they all had to be until they walked out with their grades or failed and were pushed out anyway. School policy. One that severely annoyed everyone who wanted a free period to wander around. 

His favourite kept mostly to themself, barely interacting with the others even though they were silently chatting amongst themselves or watching the documentary he had put on to keep some of them occupied. Only educational programmings allowed. Yet another school policy. God, it was miserable here. He'd be watching Breaking Bad otherwise, all of these students had hit 18 so he wouldn't get in trouble from parents about it. But no, instead he'd had to throw on some bullshit scaremongering thing about the dangers of ecstasy pills he'd found on YouTube. 

Funny thing, growth. Back when he was their age, he'd have bullied his favourite. He was as much of a little shit as the rest of them are today. Now he finds solace that at least one of them paid attention. And they'd be gone soon, replaced by another bout of insufferable 16 year olds who would be eager to push him to his limits - only to find that he knew their games and wouldn't be putting up with them. Same old song and dance every new year. 

Which is why he wanted his fucking paycheck. He goes home bordering on having an aneurysm every night, the least he can have in return is his rent money. He's not late, not yet, he'd saved up enough to have reserves, but it still felt better to have it. Plus, he'd be able to get himself a takeaway tonight. That Chinese place he likes is open on a Tuesdays. Some egg fried rice, noodles, chicken curry, those salt and peppered chips. A lovely break in his recent health kick he'd been on. 

Bailey sinks into his seat, sighing at the thought as he chews on a pen cap. His favourite looks up from their notebook, their eyes passing over him quickly before going back down. Not a new thing. They're a jumpy little thing like that. He'd bumped into them once and they'd whimpered as though he'd struck them. Kinda reminds him of all of those videos of foxes just squealing because they can - so he'd nicknamed them after the animal.

He's not a stranger to the signs of an abusive upbringing - the bullying couldn't have helped either. But he's not the one to offer support beyond letting them use his classroom instead of the library. They could go to Doren if they wanted a shoulder to cry on. 

The bell rang then, the students mostly springing up and rushing out to head to the cafeteria. His favourite was stayed put until everyone else left. 

"What you got today?" Bailey reaches under his desk, fetching a box from his bag and his homemade panini with it. Ham, lettuce, and tomatoes filled it up. 

"Same as usual," you respond with a small smile. Which means…

Bailey catches the Yorkie when you throw it over to him, and in return he tosses a bag of Maltesers. That's your usual deal. You bring the Yorkie, Bailey exchanges it for whatever sweet snacks he has that day. Whichever parent it is that always packs the bars for you clearly hasn't clued in to the fact that you've grown sick of the chocolate. Luckily for you, though, Bailey could inhale a whole four-pack in ten minutes. 

And with it not being a class, that also means he doesn't have to abide by the 'educational' videos only rule. At least, that's the excuse he'll tell Leighton if he's caught putting on fucking Hannibal. 

But it's a nice time, eating with his favourite as they watch the show over the lunch hour. Sure beats the fucking staff rooms. Bailey might just quit if he has to hear River complain about that Whitney kid again. 

It's quiet again (save the chewing), but this time it's a comfortable quiet rather than the eternally tense silence of a classroom full of kids a moment away from doing a crime to lull the boredom. 

Little Foxie relaxes now that they're alone, your shoulders sloping and your eyes focused rather than shifting. Poor damn kid. But, not his circus, not his monkeys. He won't see you again after next week anyway. 

"Which exam do you have left?" 

"Just physics. I'm dreading it, though. Sirris kinda does best with biology, so I've had to teach myself quite a bit. Just wish Leighton would hire more teachers - Winter's started nodding off in class apparently." 

Yeah, you aren't wrong there. Overworked, underpaid. And that's what separates you from the other student. That empathy you have for others. How you've held onto it for this long despite the torment of your peers never fails to amaze him. 

"I'm excited to head off to uni, though. It'll be way different than here and I won't have to be around people I don't want to see." There's hope I'm your tone. 

"What'd you pick again?" Bailey can barely speak intelligibly with all that chocolate stuffed in his mouth. Like he's ever been one for good manners though - and it seems to entertain you enough when you smile at him.

"I'm still not sure. Psychology's an option, but creative writing or even zoology sound cool, too."

"Zoology? Didn't know animals were your thing." 

"I started thinking about that after that field trip to the forest last month. You know how Winter is trying to find all of those ruins but there's the bears and stuff that could hurt him? It would be good to work to keep people who work there safe by taking care of the animals. Oh, and the fact that they're extinct everywhere else in the UK. They're important." 

Eden would disagree, but his old friend would keep to himself so long as he was left alone out there. 

"That, and well… animals are honest, you know? I don't have to worry if they'll be bad like people. They'll let me know what they want, I just have to learn the body language." 

Bailey snorts, finishing his Yorkie as he nods. "Aye, good point there. They say never work with kids or animals, but I used to work at the dog pound when I was your age and wrestling screaming huskies into the bath tub was easier than these lot." 

You return to being pensive, head cooking to the side. "How many of them do you think will go to uni?" 

How many of them will you have to avoid, you mean, judging by the nervousness that eases back into your voice. 

"Not many. They'll be the better ones who do anyway." 

No more chatting after that. There's not much more to say - you don't exactly go into personal stuff with your students. You've covered what was appropriate to talk about, and that was enough. That's how it always is. It's how it continues in the week to follow, until you graduate. 

He'll miss you. Just a little bit. The chocolate coated apple you leave on his desk with a thank-you note with a voucher for the local Chinese place is a nice touch, too. Did he even tell you he liked that place? He can't remember, but probably. 

Bailey knows why he harbours such feelings toward you. You're the kind of kid he'd hope to have if he was ever unlucky enough to spawn. 

"Good luck, Foxie," he whispers to himself as he eats the apple - and what do you know - it's melted Yorkie chocolate. Maybe you should have added confectionary to your list of things to study. 

A bittersweet heaviness settles in his chest, causing Bailey to rub the area as he frowns. Your note didn't have a social media handle, and now that you'd graduated you could add him on there. He'd like to keep an eye on your progress, but if you'd rather not then he understands. It's a new start for you, and he was a part of a difficult past even if he'd tried to offer safety in the storm. 

He still couldn't help but feel left behind. And not for the first time, he thinks. 

Dwelling on his sorrows won't do, though. It's better to get your demons out before they dig dens: so to Darryl's club it'll be tonight.

Bailey stays to fix his classroom up and get everything he needs for the summer. The kids left screaming for joy - his work hasn't stopped just because it's a holiday. He'll have to check his units and adjust all of his educational bullshit. 

His flat is small, just a single bedroom and a joint kitchen and living room, but it's enough. He guesses. Bailey's younger self would kick him in the balls for ending up here instead of as some big-shot lawyer or whatever he'd had in his head back then. 

Chucking his box of work shit onto his coffee table, Bailey pushes his dark hair back out of his eyes and heads to the shower. He can afford to spend half an hour in there, Leighton had sent the paycheck over. Its just what he needs, the scalding water loosening his muscles up and getting any sweat off of him from the summer heat. 

The outfit he chooses to wear is simple, but it's tailored just right to make his body look it's best. Dress shirt in white, black slacks, Italian loafers, his woolen long coat. He doesn't put it on until he's eaten, though, opting to shovel pasta into his mouth with his towel around his hips. 

It's still bright when he heads to the club even though the hour is late. Bailey finds himself thankful for it, the setting sun keeping some warmth as he waits for the bouncer to thin the line out and let him in. 

The environment inside is energetic, music pulsing through the building as lights are focused on various dancers performing on the stages in various stages of undress. People sit around watching with drinks in one hand and money in the other, ready to throw the cash when they find a dancer that gets them going enough. 

Bailey didn't bring change. Instead, he's off to the bar, taking an empty spot and ordering a whiskey. Then, he waits. Tourists come to this town for the beach (and the underground sex industry), many of them in the club tonight. Many of them good looking and looking for a fuck without ties. Luckily for one of them tonight, so is Bailey. 

His eyes scan the crowd, trying to scope out some cute thing he can make eye contact with and smile at so they'll either come to him or he can go to them. Sadly, the club's occupants tonight seem to be mostly local. And he isn't paying for one of the dancers either - Bailey likes it here and he'd rather not end up banned and have to venture over to Briar's seedy little hole. 

With no luck, Bailey settles for watching the dancers and listening to the conversations of groups around him for a while as he sips his drinks. Yes, multiple. If he can't fuck, he'll get a buzz and go home feeling merry at least. 

That time closes in, his eyes feeling heavy before it even reaches one in the morning. Fucking hell, he's feeling his age these days. He's not fourty yet, but it's coming, and his back especially is feeling it. 

Placing his latest empty glass on the bar, Bailey goes to get up when something catches his eye. Red hair, pretty face, young. Someone he doesn't recognise. He thinks. He's had enough to drink at this point that he can't see the best - but what he can see he likes. 

Now it's just about getting their attention. 

Another drink is ordered - this time a virgin cocktail. He's had enough alcohol, he'd like to be able to walk home without falling over. Then it's back to lounging against the bar, staring at the pretty red-head and willing them to look his way. 

And willing. And willing. And… shit. Yeah, they're not interested. Plus, Bailey needs to piss. 

The crowd goes up in cheers as one of the favourite dancers comes onto center stage, everyone glued to their spots as the music switches to their routine's soundtrack. It fades away as the door to the toilets swings shut behind the dark haired man. There's barely anyone else in there, and the two that are hurry to get out to watch. 

Not wanting to risk having some creep take a photo of his dick while he pisses, Bailey stumbles into a stall rather than over to the urinals. He's surprised to notice a gloryhole in the side of the stall; the owners here don't like that shit happening in the open. And it's a bug fucking hole, too.

A deep sigh leaves his lungs when he relieves himself, his head falling back and his eyelids closing. 

The door squeaks open, footsteps echoing as they make their way over to the stall right beside his own. Swearing under his breath, Bailey keeps an eye out for a phone coming under or above the stall. The stalls don't save you from pervs with cameras, but it does mean you can trap them in the stall and threaten them until they hand the phone over and you can delete what they took. 

"Hey, sorry, I couldn't hear you out there." 

Bailey's eyebrows crease as he shakes his dick and puts it away. Are they talking to him? 

"Yeah, no, I'm in the bathroom now. What did you call for?"

Nope, not for him. Nice voice though, bit of an accent. Definitely not from around here. Could be his tourist. 

"I- really? Really? You promised I'd be able to stay out the full night! You always do this, you always-" 

Oh, yikes. Controlling partner, it sounds like. Bailey knows he should go, but to leave now while they're arguing? To interrupt it? That feels more awkward than to hide and pretend he isn't there until they leave first. 

That accented voice only gets more upset, causing Bailey to cringe and hold his breath. 

"No! No, I'm not doing this anymore. We're done, you fucking freak! Yeah? Yeah? Go ahead, burn my shit, like I care." 

Oh, good for them, he guesses. He can still hear the tears in their voice. Tears that evolve into sobs when they hang up and, by the sound of things, sit down on the toilet seat. Time to go, Bailey thinks. He'll be really quiet about it, though. 

Which he fails at. Immediately. His loafers slip against the tile and his fist flies into the wall. Bailey doesn't hurt himself, but those sobs cease immediately. 

There's some flashes of movement beyond the glory hole, flashes of red hair going past while Bailey remains completely frozen. 

"Are you okay in there?" 

"I should be asking you the same thing," he shoots back. "But yeah, I'm good. Caught myself." 

"Guy from the bar, right? You were looking at me." 

Ah, so they're avoiding the question. Fair enough. He can't blame them for not wanting to tell a stranger about the partner they just broke up with. 

"Yeah, sorry, didn't know you were taken." He grunts as he finally stands back up right, smoothing out his shirt and working on tucking it back in. 

"Were." It's whispered, accompanied by the shuffle of clothes. He'll leave them to it, he supposes. 

"I, ah. Good luck with your-" 

They weren't pulling their pants down to take a piss. They were pulling them down to press their pussy against the glory hole, giving Bailey a good view of it. 

"You have a condom? I'm free now so…" 

Bold little minx, aren't they? Forward with what they want, but responsible enough to ask for a condom. Which Bailey would have forgotten if they hadn't mentioned. 

"Yup," is all he says, the 'p' popping as his pants come down again. Fishing out the condom from his wallet, Bailey keeps the packet held between his teeth as his hands get to work. One wraps around his cock, the other pressing against their pussy and thumbing their clit. 

Such a cute giggle they have, such a cute little cunt they have. Just what he needs to keep make his day after all of the goddamn stress. He's clumsy though, the drink and the two different movements of his hands making his ministrations rough. Not that the minx next door seems to mind. 

He's quick to harden, ripping the condom packet open before rolling it down on himself. 

"Just spit on me, I don't want to wait longer." 

Fucking hell, yeah he can do that. Leaning down, Bailey rolls his tongue around in his mouth, gathering spit before drooling it all over their cunt. And he just can't resist giving it a lick when he picks up how good it smells. 

They laugh again, wiggling their hips so that his tongue teases their clit for a few seconds before he pulls away. Then it's right to what they both want. 

The angle is awkward, standing up so straight his back leans away from the wall as he presses himself in. Completely worth it when he feels how tight and warm it is - even around the condom they feel like heaven. 

Reaching up, Bailey tightly grips the top of the stall dividing wall to keep himself steady while he pumps in and out. Nice and slow to start, nice and slow to find the angle he likes and a rhythm that makes sense. He keeps his head down, watching himself sink in. Such a good sight to commit to memory. 

The minx starts whimpering, gyrating their hips to demand more from Bailey. Strange that the whimper seems familiar, flashing images of a certain fox-like ex-student through his head. And a flash of heat through his lower belly. 

"Fuck," Bailey hisses, shaking his head and trying to focus on the here and now. Completely inappropriate to think of you right now. He's never thought of you that way, and he won't start now. 

But then the minx whimpers again, leaving Bailey with the thought of his little Foxie bent over his desk, taking him rough and hard while they both watch the door from fear of being caught. 

You're gone. He won't see you again. It's not like he'll have to look you in the eye on Monday and face the shame of having had these thoughts. What's the harm in indulging in them when they make his skin feel so aflame? 

"Yes, Sir, more!" 

Oh that fucking helps. Sends his mind reeling about how nice you always were, how you knew what he wanted from you whether it was your behaviour, work, or conversation. It would translate into the bedroom, Bailey knew that much. You'd be such a good little one for him, on your back with your knees held to your chest so he could get a good view of what's between your legs. What he'd be tasting, savouring. 

"So good, Sir, so good," the minx whines, that one fucking title the sweet spot in it all. 

Bailey snarls, pumping hard and fast right into them, right into you, his brain stuck in a world where you're in his apartment, laying in his bed and clinging tightly to him while he makes your anxiety seem out of your body with every hit against the slick, gummy walls of your sweet cunt. 

It creeps up on him, electricity sparking up his spine as his balls tighten. Bailey hasn't come this close to finishing so quickly in years, a realisation that sobers him for a second. His teeth dig into his lower lip, but it doesn't slow down the building explosion that hits him. 

He loses control of his hips, feeling like they're being pushed forward by an unseen force as he buries himself into the minx, spilling spurt after spurt of his seed into the condom. It drains that burst of energy he'd had, his cock slipping out of the minx as he struggles to stay standing. 

"You okay in there, handsome?" There's no mocking in their voice, just amusement. 

"Shit - sorry. I'll finish you off, here-" 

"Nah, it's all good. My phone won't stop going off and if I don't answer that bastard really will burn my shit. I left my mother's necklace over there so I should head over." 

"Don't go alone if you can help it," Bailey grunts, putting his clothes to right again and disposing of his condom in the bin. Next door, he hears the minx putting their clothes to right as well. 

"Yeah, I'll grab my friend on the way out. She's probably out of money at this point anyway." 

Their stall opens, footsteps heading off. Bailey isn't long behind. 

Two seconds. Two seconds of seeing them clearly in the mirrors above the sink as he passes. Two seconds where he sees them fixing their hair - an obviously fake wig that he can make out clearly since the drunkenness has faded. Two seconds where he can make out their face in the bright light of the bathroom.

One extra second when you turn back, panic in your eyes at the knowledge that he'd realised who you are. The panic fades though. Instead, you're smiling in a way he's never seen you smile before. It's confident. Fox-like. 

"Or maybe I'll just head back home since there's no ex-boyfriend. Could go back to yours. Bet you'd like more of a taste, Sir. I'll even hold my legs apart for you." 

Bailey can't move. Can't chase after you and demand answers as you scurry off, your hips swaying in that outfit. Can't believe his cock is hardening again, and that you'd know just what he wants. Just like he'd thought you would. 

Why do you always know what he wants?

#collaboween #spill my guts #necro's fics #bailey the caretaker #gn reader #afab reader #cw alcohol #yandere reader #degrees of lewdity

[cupfullofpapas]

(Yes I'm reusing this image too busy to doodle a new one :''( life has been super crazy as of late ) Second Vol in The Assistant series: In the arms of a Devil Rated: E F/M Cardinal Copia x F!Reader Papa Emeritus IV x F!Reader

Also read it on my Ao3 here Previous Vol. : The Assistant Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 6: Scent Your patience was nearing its end as you stood by the window looking over the ministries garden watching your fellow siblings of sin some tending to the gardens, some sitting below the few trees that offered an abundance of shade, the weather had decided to act right for once and allowed everyone a day outside, you however, decided to stay indoors. 

As much as you tried to convince yourself that things were okie dokie they weren't, you missed Copia like hell and your chest ached from it, well it was either that or allergies or perhaps both. You've considered talking to Gemma,  the only Prime mover you knew of who had been with her Papa during his touring era.

Each time you went to talk to her you gave yourself excuses not to bother her those excuses now becoming ridiculous. 

With everyone outside enjoying the sunny day the Abbey was quiet so you chose to sit in the cafeteria once the walls of your dorm room started to get to you feeling as if they were closing in. Sitting down at one of the many tables with a muffin you had gotten from the kitchen, picking little pieces off of it like an overgrown crab. 

Sweet Satan, you felt weird, you never thought you could miss someone this much you didn't even miss Secondo this much when he was out of the office for a long period of time... pausing you frowned, with all that had happened that sounded pretty harsh, being lost in thought you plucked another piece of the muffin popping it into your mouth followed by another.

"Child what's got you down in the dumps?."

The sudden voice made you jump looking up to see Sister Twist looking down at you her hands on her hips concern written all over her face. "Satanas, Twist don't spook me like that."  The redhead only shrugged before sitting in the chair across from you the thing giving a slight whine. 

"I forgot how cheesy these things were, you'd think with how much Imperator bitches about the budget and cash there would be a stockpile for new cafeteria chairs at least, things look like they're from the fuckin sixties" Twist snickered however when she didn't hear you join in either laughing or ragging on Imperator she knew something was on your mind. 

"Hey."  Twist snapped her fingers a few times getting your attention.  "Talk to me, what's eating at you, and don't say nothing 'cause momma Twist knows."   You rolled your eyes before answering.  "Just with the tour and all and.."  You trailed off looking for the right words. "You miss your man". Your cheeks turned a light shade of red nodding adverting your eyes from the older sister of sin.

"You miss Copia and you feel weird for missing him so much because you've never missed or depended on someone else who wasn't blood-related that and you feel like your heart is being ripped out through your rib cage."  You opened your mouth to speak however Twist held up her hand silencing you. 

"And even though you still talk to him on the phone or text it feels like it's not enough and yadda yadda."  You stayed silent staring at her before uttering a little 'fuck you' which made the older sibling laugh.   "There's nothing wrong with feeling this way, it's natural to feel this way when you miss someone you love."  

Love, you did love him right?, you remembered the day you told Secondo that you loved him back when he declared his love for you the thought put an uneasy pit in your stomach which caused you to push the muffin aside, why were you even asking yourself this?, you just had teenage phone sex last night with the man. You felt a hand rest on your shoulder Twist wore a kind smile.  "You'll know the answer when he comes back, sweetie."  You smiled and rested your hand above hers the moment was short-lived as Lenti came running into the cafeteria. 

"Twist! Omega, Divine, Alpha, and Terzo are fucking in the music room again!."   "Oh for the love of sweet Satan, those fuckers are gonna get a boot up their ass."   "Careful they might like that." You chimed in as Twist pushed the chair in heading to the music room complaining the entire way, the last time those four got into it in the music room Pebble's drumset was a casualty and Sister Imperator was furious about having to buy a whole new set for the ghoul. The sound of something hitting the floor and the yelling of Imperator's voice pulled you from your thoughts. "You daft idiots!, Be careful with this equipment it's very important and very expensive!."  Getting up from your seat you wandered over to the door seeing that the ghouls were moving a bunch of medical equipment, was someone sick?

"Sister?." you asked stepping from the cafeteria, Imperator turned quickly to face you a smile coming to her face her demeanor changing quickly.  "Hello dear." "What's all this?." "It is for Papa Nihil when he gets back from tour with Cardi, don't you worry about it I have everything under control" She offered the fakest of smiles before following the ghouls walking away her red heels clicking and clacking on the floor. 

The 'short time apart' felt more like years apart the only good thing that happened in your opinion was that Sister Imperator had given you the option of going back to your old dorm room or staying in the current one alongside Copia given the fact that you two were an item, you of course chose to stay in the shared room one because you did not feel like packing everything up and two once Copia got back you were going to stick to him like glue. 

Your day off finally came, the day when you could just lay around your dorm room and not have to worry about anything other than flopping your face into Copia's pillow and breathing in the fleeting scent you hadn't even bothered to change out of your pajamas.

 Rolling over in bed you went face-first into the soft depths of your Cardinal's pillow breathing in-- it was then that you realized that his scent was gone from the fabric, you started to think, what could you do? you needed his scent you needed to feel as if he was there, the worry was starting to set in, and then it hit you.. but were you that desperate?

.....Yes, yes you were...

 Scooting closer to the edge of his side of the bed you opened the nightstand digging around in the drawer. Sometimes the lack of organization of his personal items got to you and made you want to shake him but on the other hand, it also gave you things to do. While you were on your search you looked at some of the things he had tucked away in there. 

A list of numbers, a few unopened juice boxes, several pens, pictures, loose change, and receipts however it wasn't just any receipts they were from the couple nights you and him half-assedly eloped there was even one from the gas station. A smile had worked its way to your face as you looked over each one recounting each item there was also a list there in his scratchy handwriting of things you liked and didn't like, your smile only grew wider as your fingers slid over the indented paper following the pen marks the Chinese menu you both had ordered from. 

You remembered when you accidentally launched a shrimp at the television screen that night, the memory earned a quiet laugh, putting the items back you were on the move again until your searching fingers finally found what you were looking for.

Closing the nightstand's drawer you sat up holding a bottle, it was Copia's cologne your thumb ran over the elegant lettering feeling the different textures on the label, after mentally telling yourself how crazy and weird you were several small sprays were sprayed onto his pillow and one on yourself.

The bottle was placed back inside the nightstand drawer, and the pillow now damp with the scent was turned over the damp side against the bed sheet once again you flopped face-first into it this time being hit with the strong scent of your man. You felt your whole body tingle and warm up as soon as you breathed in his scent your skin prickling with goosebumps, it made you giddy picturing Copia there with you tangled up in the blankets enjoying your time together. 

It was weird sometimes, how a simple scent could make a body heat up, your thighs squeezed together dulling the throb that started as soon as his scent filled your nostrils, your mind thinking about those hands of his and the way they felt when he slid them along your body and gripped your soft flesh the smooth of the leather.   Your hand has started to trace the patterns on your body picturing that they were his fingers, his palms, and you were a willing victim under his expert touches, your Cardinals name was whispered past your lips as your fingertips came to the swell of your pussy lips.

You could picture him there staring down at you, kissing you his fingers teasing you driving you wild, his tongue swirling with yours in the timeless dance of love. You were about to sink your fingers inside of yourself when there was a knock at the door making you halt your actions and look up. Rolling your eyes you stayed quiet maybe if you didn't make a sound whoever it was would just go away thinking that you weren't home, you thought it had worked but there the knocking was again, flopping your pillow over your face you groaned into it before getting up washing your hands and answering the door.  Unlocking the handle and deadbolt you opened the door being face to face with Sister Imperator once again at this point you almost swore this woman was stalking you. 

"Sister?."  You asked doing your best not to sound annoyed. "Evening, I have some-- unfortunate news for you."  -------------------------------------------- TAG LIST: Please message me if you would like to be added to the tag list! @thesoundresoundsecho @xpapaemeritus @copiasprincipessa @siouxbauhaus

#the band ghost #ghost #copia #cardinal copia #ghostau #papa emeritus iv #Cardinal Copia x F!Reader #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus 4 #papa emeritus iv x reader #Papa Emeritus x F!reader #sister imperator #sister twist #Divine ghoulette #ghoulette oc #ghouls #nameless ghouls #ghost ghouls #unmasked ghouls

[knowltonsrangers]

theoretically pt.8

[ first , prev ] [f!reader]

"You did what?!”

Caleb sniffs, nose wrinkling as he begins to contemplate the situation back over again in his head. Realistically, you were more than able to handle your own, surviving thus far in a reality that you claimed wasn't your own.

You had a fight in you, something that he hadn't seen in a while. Not only was it a breath of fresh air, but it was a hefty reassurance as he made his way back across choppy waters to camp.

He would be lying if he said that he wasn't effected by your saddened face, especially when he mentioned he would be leaving you alone.

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous,"

"So let me set this straight,"

Ben rolls his shoulders, a hand coming off his hip so he can properly count everything that he's just been told.

"So you brought y/n across the sound, left her on the shoreline with no means of escape, gave her a pocket knife, and think that she'll be absolutely fine alone, in the dark, in a place she has no recollection of,"

He purses his lips, and Caleb slowly nods, gesturing weakly to the boat behind him.

"So...you wanna yell at me about it more, or get in the boat and go get 'er?"

"You were supposed to stay with her!”

By all means, you should have been fine.

There was a stupid song that was stuck in your head, the one that was killing you internally because you couldn’t remember the title of it, and you only knew the chorus.

Minus the actual name of the song.

“Shit of a time to not have internet.”

Annoyed, and particularly lonely, you doodled in the damp sand with your index finger, giggling to no one but yourself at how much of a terrible nightmare this all is.

It’s fair to assume that when you wake up, you’ll remember nothing, and it’s a concept that makes you a bit sad. Though, as the nightmare spanned over days, you were starting to believe your own lies, at least the ones you’ve been berating into the Major’s brain.

You weren’t lying…you really weren’t from here. But, in a false reality, this is what you would have to come to terms with. Maybe you have been transported in time, for cruelly wanting to snooze your alarm one last time.

A shameful misjudgment of punishment, might you add.

It isn’t until your own thoughts are interrupted by a conversation, two men not far away from your spot. You pale, fumbling slightly in your seated position, sealing your lips as if to not take a single breath, as if it would give you a better chance against such a threat.

It had to be Ben and Caleb. Who else would bicker so frivolously and casually as if there was no one here but you?

Standing hesitantly, your palm slides over your pocket, aware of the knife so if it came to it, you knew where it was to use it.

“…I swear, such a pain in the...”

You hear them more clearly now, and it’s all at once that you realize it’s not Ben and Caleb, but so have gotten too close that you have little reaction time.

The two men shout, raising something in unison in the darkness that you can only imagine are rifles.

“Identify yourself!”

“You said you left her right here. I can’t imagine she’s very far,”

There’s an underlying worry laced into his words, arms splayed outwards to regain his balance as he vaults himself out of the boat.

“Yeah, but I explicitly said to only move away from this spot if there was trouble,”

The brunette stomps his foot, as if for emphasis, regarding the area of the beach they were on. Taking a wide sweep of the land, it was very clear that you were nowhere nearby, at least within earshot.

And if it was some sort of game you were playing, he'd push you into the water, without a single doubt.

“This is just wonderful,”

Benjamin curses to himself, making it to the sand in a few short steps. His boots sink uncomfortably in the slush, but it’s something just a few paces ahead of him that catches his eye.

“Is this what you left her with?”

Caleb turns, squinting to better adjust to the moonlight, and Ben watches as his eyes jump wide.

“Ah, shite. Yeah, that’s the knife.”

“There’s no blood, though, not that I can see much of anything. Very likely she was just trying to defend herself, but whomever found her had a better means of getting her to comply.”

“What the hell are we gonna do?”

There’s a moment where Ben has to bite his tongue, because the rage that’s sitting in his throat is unfathomable. As he swallows it back down, a more subtle idea crosses his mind, something that he wished hadn’t.

This was the best chance he would ever have. Washington knew he had too many distractions, one too many mistakes and couldn’t afford another one. This was his last ditch attempt to prove that he had truly rid himself of the problem…and the lying and run-arounds would cease.

However, as enticing as this notion would have been if it was presented to him twenty-four hours ago, he mentally berates himself for even contemplating such a scenario.

You were his primary problem, at least as of right now, and he needed help to find a solution.

“I…do not know. y/n is capable, but without knowing who has taken her, it is impossible to decide which course of action is next.”

Caleb groans, throwing his head back as he stares up at the sky. Ben knows he’s internally beating himself up, but there’s so little time to offer some reassurance.

“She’s fine, Caleb.”

Benjamin sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he tosses the pocket knife back to Caleb as he approaches, jumping slightly at the movement but catches the weapon nonetheless.

"I know that! I keep tellin' myself that, but it ain't helpin' the guilt that's eating me up!"

"Maybe I wasn't explicitly clear with my instructions. We cannot change what happened, but we can find y/n nonetheless,"

"How?! We don't know who took her, where she is, and we also have to be back at camp to report to Georgie in a coupla' hours!"

"Why are you so aggravated?"

"Why aren't you?"

That one feeling, the one of admiration that he was compelled with when he first met you crawled back to the front of his thoughts. He was aggravated, downright distraught and full of fear, but damned be if he let those emotions rise to the surface.

"I am."

Ben huffs, eyes moving along the shore, when something pulls his attention once more.

"Caleb-"

"Ben, I don't really have the stomach to listen to your lecture,"

"Caleb, I-"

"I know I fucked up, please fer the love of-"

"Caleb!"

Ben hisses, careful of the volume of his voice.

"Wassat?"

Just short of where he had found the knife, a small arrow was made in the sand, pointing west.

"At least we have a starting point."

Caleb releases a sigh, one full of relief and appreciation.

"We've got a lead, and we've got to take it and get going. As you've said, we're due back to camp in a few hours."

He nods in agreement, then looks back over his shoulder to the boat.

"Think that'll be alright?"

"Yes, for now. Let's be quick."

There's a knot winding itself tighter in his stomach, marching onwards the shore with Caleb just on his heels. Ben never thought he would miss hearing your sarcastic nature and poor English, and while he is half-minded to let you go, some part of him wants you to stay. It is a strange emotion, something he isn't ready to fully face yet.

It's somewhat embarrassing how attached he is to your story, wanting to be the one that finds the solution and rights all your current wrongs.

Physically shrugging the feeling from his shoulders, he sighs, feeling his boots submerge into the mud once more.

#sul writes #turn amc #amc turn #turn: washington's spies #turn washingtons spies #turn washington's spies #benjamin tallmadge headcanons #benjamin tallmadge imagine #benjamin tallmadge x reader #turn benjamin tallmadge #benjamin tallmadge

[afreakingdork]

Above Table

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader One-Shot

Warnings/Tags: General Audience Rating, Secret Crush, Love, Love Confessions, Confessions, Characters Play Dungeons & Dragons, Dungeons & Dragons References

Synopsis:  Donnie always took the game too seriously. That's why when his sorcerer is fatally injured, you come to find that he he's been harboring something that far exceeds the game.

Also avaliable on Ao3

Huge shout out to @kathaynesart 's Dungeons and Drama pitch and my darling DM for always inspiring me with incredible content! 💞

The dice clattered and rolled across the table as a collective breath was held.

As it stopped, Donnie scrambled through his various stacks of notes. The flustered rush caused them to cascade across the table. Each found purchase by the other players, but no one of them moved to help return them.

“I can-!” Donnie choked on the idea as his spell sheet crumpled underhand.   

Unable to see the dice from behind his screen, Mikey had to stand before he sullenly slunk back down to record the roll. “That’s a two…” 

April moved next and offered a weakened smile. “At least you still have one more to go, right?”

You couldn’t take in Donnie’s response as you stared down at your own worn character sheet. The egregious zero you had doodled out after marking out the last of your healing HP glared back. You sent a meek look towards the perpetrator.

“Yeah, yeah, Donald rolls on his next turn.” Leo hadn’t noticed you or anyone else. He simply waved off the doomed aura of the table with his eyes glued to his phone.

“Leo!” Raph scolded.

“Pay attention, fool! That was his second death-saving throw! If he fails the next one, aka the last one, then he’s dead dead!” April shot to her feet and used the momentum to slap Leo’s phone straight down onto the table.

The indignity at the action caused the words to click in the slider’s mind. “Wait what?”

 “There’s… nothing we can do?” Raph turned to Mikey.

From behind his DM partition, the box turtle grimaced. “Uh… so you and Leo are too far after the cliff situation. April’s attacks missed and she closed out her turn by moving towards you guys. Y/N had the healing juices once, but… again, cliff.”

It wasn’t intentional on anyone’s part, but you took it as a painful reminder of your failings.

“So this is happening all because you had to swing from that vine!?” Raph turned his worries into vengeance and zeroed it in on Leo.

“I thought I could jump on the dude’s back!” Leo folded his arms as if he couldn’t be swayed on the matter. 

You knew how reckless Leo’s bard was. It was you who used all the HP from your pool instead of reserving some for a case like this.

Raph tried to match it with a glare, but Leo’s stubbornness won out. “Potions… Potions! W-we had potions, didn’t we guys?” In an attempt to snatch up his inventory sheet, Raph knocked his dice clean off the table.

From where he was once a boiling pit of nervous lava, Donnie had shifted to a chasm of ice. “I won’t allow retroactive moves.”

April rolled her eyes away from the soft shell to watch the way the snapper bumped the table as he tried to gather his bobbles back up. “It doesn’t matter anyway; Leo used his eating that green sludge in the cave. Raph, I think you used yours when we fought the Cloakers on the sky ship and I… didn’t pick any up from the merchant because I didn’t trust the way that fool sang. Y/N whatcya got?”

“I gave my last one to that raccoon when it got injured during the communion with the deity.” You sighed, slinking further down into your seat of failures.

Set back once again, Raph’s little mumbles were the only sound.

“I just thought…” Mikey murmured under the pressure of silence and tried to sneak a glance at Donnie.

“Thought what?” Donnie gave an chilled hiss. “That you would destroy your established enemy curve on a whim? How very on brand.”

Mikey jolted with a bitterness stinging his eyes. “Well, excuse me! I was just trying to make sure you were having fun since it seemed too easy for you!”  

“I was having fun because I was winning!” Donnie growled and slapped his spell sheet back to the table. “And now…”

“Got ‘em!” Raph popped up and took in the air. “Oh…”  

It also seemed cruel that none of them seemed to acknowledge that this stemmed from you. It was your whole paladin’s identity to help the team in any way possible. You were supposed to be the shield and the failsafe. Now, there was an ever growing chance that you’d never see Donnie’s sorcerer again.

From where you were wringing your hands in your lap, you squeezed your fingers until they stung from the force.

April gave a sigh. “Let’s just...” She gave a long once over the group and the brothers settled indignantly into their seats. “Priorities! The real issue is The Reaper is about to go.”

“… And he’s still targeting Donnie.” You mumbled nervously. You tried to reason that it was totally normal and not biased that you knew that since April had mostly kept track of potions.

“How’s that work again?” Leo held up a hand as if he were whispering to April though he used his regular voice.  

She placed a fingertip to the appendage and gently pushed it until it squashed back into the slider’s face. “I’m banning phones if this keeps up!”

“You have no authority!” Leo threw a finger out at Mikey in demonstration.

The box turtle opened his mouth to respond.

“But you can’t because that’s where my sheet is!” Leo sang the phrase out and scooped up his phone to snuggle preciously to his chest.  

April rolled her eyes. “This is the last time I’m catching you up! Donnie’s the only one that’s managed to hit the guy and he’s been agroing him ever since.”

There wasn’t enough room for hope to bloom in your chest, but if April caught that then your observation was absolutely in the clear. You squirmed in your seat as you tried to deal with the concurrent thoughts you had on the matter. It had to be nothing but the usual intrigue and guilt that was making you obsess over the soft shell.

“But isn’t he like… bleeding out or something? Why’s he want to beat a dead horse?” Leo twisted out of one display for another that mimicked a dying blow and subsequent collapse. He side eyed Donnie the whole way down to the table.  

Donnie bared his teeth, but before he could say anything, Mikey spoke.

“Actually…” Mikey stamped a sticky note with a halo on it right to his forehead. “Y/N goes next.”

Still wriggling, you halted as the attention rounded on you. You winced with a question on your lips; Donnie despised how you verbally talked out your plans. “Uh… Okay… I was… how far from whoever?”

“Let’s see!” Mikey chirped and ducked out of sight.

You felt a sense of déjà vu.

More sessions ago than you could count, April had invited you to join a this very D&D. After meeting her at a pro-mutant rights rally on campus, you’d chatted over coffee afterwards and shared your other mutual interests. She’d been playing far longer than you and you bemoaned your lack of experience. She’d had an odd look on her face before she softly mentioned how she’d be helping out a newbie DM start a new campaign. You tried to temper your excitement as she explained how accessible the affair would be for what was essentially a first time player such as yourself.

You’d followed April down some old subway entrance that next week with immediate wariness. The space transformed from dreary to homey in an odd shift that felt like entering another world. She had stopped at a large wooden table where a set green heads in colored bandanas were parked. In quick succession, you were introduced to the brothers with Donatello being last. It was a moment that stuck out to you with a painful prick. You weren’t sure what you had done, but he took one surprised look at you before coldly introducing himself by his sorcerer ’s name. April smacked the back of his head and explained that he took the role-playing aspect a bit too seriously.   

She then sat you across from him and ever since it had become your assigned seat. With each session, the lot of you strengthened your bond as you fought back corruption and greater evil. That was, all except the soft shell who seemed to be glaring at you at any given moment. He harshly judged every creative strategy you tried to employ. His sorcerer was constantly either using you as bait or a test subject for unknown items that he picked up. You carried on, both because of your paladin’s shining disposition and because he was extremely good at the game.

Despite his attitude, you often found yourself in awe of how easily he could recall the intricacies of every single person’s spells, attacks, and bonus actions. He was theatrical to a fault and his monologues easily hypnotized you when he was given a chance to shine. Though he often interfered with the rest of the party to ensure he’d make the killing blow, the loop holes he’d exploit made it so watching him was like being in the presence of a master craftsmen. It made complete sense why he’d been banned from DMing, but it was also something you wished you could go back in time to see. It was unfortunate he loved getting in his own way so much.

Your eyes lit up.

Mikey reappeared before you could voice what was forming in your head. “Alright, so Leo and Raph are like 200 ft. away from you. April is 150. The Reaper is still airborne, but has been coming down so let’s say 60 with Donnie’s wounded body at 50 because you’ve been heading towards him since he collapsed.”

Donnie clicked his tongue.

You gave him a tepid scowl. He was so infuriatingly petty. “I get it! Despite how much your character hates mine, my paladin is compelled to help whoever is hurt!” You weren’t sure why you felt the need to defend your character’s actions, but across from you Donnie refused your gaze to instead bore holes into Mikey’s screen. “I’m going to Donnie’s sorcerer and I want to do a medicine check.”  

There was a collective hiss as almost everyone sucked a sharp whiff of air through their teeth.

“Uh…” Raph anxiously reached out before retracting his fingers.

Leo leaned into the snapper with a crazed face and a harsh whisper. “Do you still want to complain about my vine swing?!”

“Y/N…” April was barely able to mask her wince with a broke smile. “That won’t…”

Donnie moved to collect his papers.

“I have to. It’s all I can do.” You turned to Mikey and gave him a nod to go ahead.

Mikey gave a sympathetic look and gestured for you to roll.

With a clack, you double checked your sheet. “21.”

Mikey made a note and then gave a grave look. “You run to the sorcerer’s fallen form as The Reaper looms overhead. Blackened wing flaps echo as he draws closer and closer. You drop to your knees and put your hand to the sorcerer’s chest. His clothes are singed away and you feel nothing from his cold form. You know his wound is magical in origin and, even though you reach as deep as you can, there just isn’t any magic left within you…”

“Y/N, you’re in The Reaper’s attack line…” April gave you a small reminder.

Looking at the abysmal amount of HP you had left, you used a chip bag to cover the number up. “I want to stand over his body and shield him.”

Donnie smacked his gathered stack of notes harshly against the table to align them.

Mikey sunk down, defeated. “The Reaper lands with a billowing gust of wind and a scythe of bone slowly protrudes from his arm. Swinging it around to attention, black ichor spatters the area from where it oozes off the weapon. He then rears back to strike…”

Within two moves your HP drops to zero and the table ignited. The sound barely reached your ear as you numbly brushed the snacks away to note that. You heard April’s turn happen and her desperately shouting something. The commotion was confusing static and you lifted your eye to look across from you. You assumed Donnie would still be giving you his icy shoulder, but instead you found him staring at you evenly. It didn’t shake you out of your funk, but you surfaced long enough to part your lips to translate a silent question. He took it in with a flick of his eyes, but chose to watch you until something brought his eye to the head of the table.

“Alright, Donnie! You got this!” Mikey was on his feet.

The lair rushed back to you and you realized everyone else had gotten to theirs as well.

Palming his dice, Donnie took a deep breath before letting it cascade off his palm and down his fingers. It rolled against the baited breath and rocked as it landed.

Leo gave a pained screech.

You tried to remind yourself that you did all you could to rectify your wrong.

“You find yourself floating in a broken land…” Mikey addressed Donnie with energy waning within each word. “You know this to be the Astral Plane…” 

Leo draped himself over April and gave a synthetic sob. “I’m writing an ode to him as we speak! It should have been me!”

“Come on, dude…” Raph huffed.

“Literally didn’t even realize he was dying two seconds ago.” April pinched Leo’s forearm.

“You know you are not long for this world either. Do you want to reach out to your gods or ask the questions you’ve always sought?” Mikey continued on as if unaware.

“I reach against the veil to the paladin.” Donnie responded without hesitation.

You snapped to attention and wildly searched him.

He ignored you to wait for Mikey’s response.

Following his gaze, you moved to catch the last moments of surprise pass over the box turtle’s face before he gave a sad, but understanding smile.

“Y/N.” Mikey turned to you.

“Yeah?” You whispered and came to realize that the other conversations had halted in favor of watching the exchange.

“Everything is dark and you are somewhere in-between. You haven’t felt anything since The Reaper’s blade pierced you, but now you sense a familiar presence ghosting over you.”

“What…?” You searched your tablemates to find all but Donnie just as confused as you.

“Roll a D20 for me.” Mikey gave you a reassuring bob. You didn’t miss the mischievous air to it.

Your hands felt heavy against the small bobble as you gave it a little shake before casting it out. “18.”

Mikey nodded, his eyes down to whatever pages he had behind his partition. “You know it to be the sorcerer who has been by your side for many moons. You cannot see or hear him, but your eyes widen as some of his knowledge enters your mind.”

A piece of paper slid across the table.

The fingers on the edge of it trailed back to Donnie who wore a troubled frown and refused your eye.

You leaned forward to look and he gave it a shove. The page then delicately floated until it landed perfectly in front of you.

“Read paragraph 3 to yourself.” His voice had a calculated stillness to it.

Still lost, you gave him one last look.

He continued to deny it, but you caught how his expression had shifted with a tinge of pain.

Looking down at the paper, you immediately identified it as Donnie’s backstory. He’d touted its length but hid its direct content many times since the game started. The gazes on you heated up in a way that said you’d be the first to see it. You swallowed hard as you picked up the page. Counting down as instructed, you started at the third indentation:

“He never imagined much past his plans for global conquest. Knowing knowledge would be the key, he planned his whole life based on this pursuit. He would think very little of the paladin that he’d be forced to party with. They were too selfless and had sworn an oath that he would make a mockery of. All that changed, when they smiled and introduced themselves. The emotion he’d felt in that moment would pain him and he didn’t know then what it meant. He’d secretly tried to dispel any sorcery, thinking something was cast. As time went on, he’d try to remind himself that the paladin was everything he hated; the exact opposite of his type. They were dumb and easily fell for the most ridiculous schemes. They were too happy and smiled even under the worst circumstances. They were kind to a fault and  haplessly threw themselves in harm’s way to protect the other members of what he begrudgingly considered his family. He had a goal, a larger purpose. He didn’t have time to give in to petty things like feelings. Still, they wormed their way in. With a heavy heart, the day he acknowledged his love for the paladin was also the day he decided it would be best to carry that emotion secretly until his dying breath. He would not believe himself worthy of their love.”

The paper felt both too heavy and too light. You worried if you moved at all that it would simply cease to exist. Scouring back over the paragraph, you tried to figure out when he had written this. There was no way he could have known this from the get go. He’d come to session zero with his stack already transcribed.

Eyes watering from disuse, you attempted to blink.

The writing was typed out which meant Donnie must have updated it. He had clearly been adding the contents from each consecutive meeting. It was just vague enough, but a reel of actions outside the game cycled through your mind and seemed to parallel the text.

You remembered the shame that burned in your cheeks the day Leo had gotten you by saying the word gullible was written on the ceiling. It had only been matched by the humiliation you’d felt when your paladin had been obviously duped into buying a cursed piece of armor.  

You recalled the day you’d arrived to a session having plastered a smile after being present during a bodega robbery. It clipped with the time your paladin had been hit with Moan, but maintained a grin for the party’s sake.

You hadn’t forgotten the day you’d mistakenly stumbled upon the brothers mid-battle and had thrown yourself in Raph’s defense after he’d been struck. It easily contrasted the any number of times you’d used Interception in player combat.

It all felt so surreal. The sea of coincidences barely tipped the scales from where you thought you it was just your imagination. In a crawl, your gaze lifted from the page to the soft shell that had passed it to you. His eye was still shoved to the side, but he now wore guarded expression that screamed a preparation for rejection.

Shifting away from a dazed watering, your vision now blurred with further realization.

He was the stupid one.

He was the one that got swept up in his excitement.

He was the one trying to be self-sacrificial.  

The first fat tear formed in your left eye and threatened its plummet. You put the paper back down on the table and as soon as you did, you heard Donnie’s voice.

“I let go.”

Mikey began to talk, but your chair clattered to the ground as you shot up.

“You can’t!” It wasn’t a single droplet, but a dozen that flooded your cheeks in a stream.

Someone gasped.

“I’ve done all I’ve ever wanted.” Though his voice was even and you could barely see him, you could tell Donnie’s expression was wounded. He’d accepted a multitude of fates.  

“No!” You were already rounding the table.

In a counter move, Donnie flew to his feet, ready to sprint.

“Stop!” Mikey commanded, a sharp spark of orange energy crackled through the air.

You both complied.

“Y/N, roll your last two saving throws. Now.” Mikey tossed a D20 at you instead of letting you walk back to your spot.

“But-” Leo choked on the syllable as a chain wrapped around his mouth.

“Now? Mikey, it’s not my-” You tried to reason but the zip of golden hue around Mikey’s pupil throttled your voice. You stared down at the table helplessly and rolled. “6… and 3…”

In stark contrast to his previous tone, Mikey’s watery voice reached your ears. “You find yourself floating in a broken land…”

It was like hearing a starting signal and you shot around the table. Donnie flinched as you stalked up to him. You stopped just short and he stared back at you with impossibly wide eyes.

“Did you mean it?”

“I play the game as it is meant to be played; a full immersion of oneself.”

“No!” You snapped and he shuddered again. “Above table! Did you mean it?”

His cheek hollowed out as he took a sharp breath and he forced his mouth into a tight line. For a moment, he tried to look everywhere but you before the reality of the situation seemed to sink in. His body language said he was still put out and he spoke out the corner of his mouth. “In my zeal, there is a chance I committed to the part a little too well.”

“Idiot.”

“Hey-!” The insult died on his lips as he saw a new river of tears rushing down your cheeks.

“Stupid! Dummy! Jerk!” You reached up as if you were going to swing, but he caught your wrists.

He leaned in close and dropped his voice for only you to hear. “Fine. Yes, you’re right, and, as much as it pains me to say this, we are not actually alone in the astral plane right now.”

“You’re dead…” You hiccupped and he released you.

“I am…” He mumbled in a way that spoke to the many volumes that simple phrase had before stepping forward. It just barely allowed your head to touch the pointed edge at the breast of his plastron. You resisted the urge to collapse into him and shook slightly as the last of the tears were ripped from you. One of his arms slung around your back and the tense muscles you felt said he was holding back more than he let on. He cleared his throat and you felt him straighten. “The… game, yeah that’s it, the game was quite a lot for Y/N. I’m going to take them to the kitchen to make some tea.”

You wormed an arm out of view and pinched him.

He put on a smile to hide the wince.

“You got it!” Mikey gave a chipper wink and then clapped his hands to gather attention. “Alright, we’re still in initiative people!” 

“Are you kidding me right now!? I’m just gonna swing my lute at a literal death god after watching whatever that was!?” Leo gaped.

“Yeah, pretty much.” Mikey shrugged as if that were obvious and rolled his dice.

Fading  counter murmurs argued as Donnie’s arm tightened the further away you got.

💜Don't forget there's always behind the scenes notes and WIPs going up on the membership side of my ko-fi!💜 

#rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

WELL HELLO, SWEETHEART

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Shy!Henderson!reader

Summary: what if Eddie took a liking in a different Henderson even before Dustin came?

Warnings: none

Eddie watched as the elder Henderson walked past their table, Books tightly in her grasp as she hurried to her own table and friends. He had being eyeing her for years now, but she payed no attention, not once had she ever talked or wasted her time with the freak of Hawkins High.

But Dustin adored Eddie, he would come out of his way to help the older boy and give him ideas for campaigns and songs even if he knew Eddie made them great anyway.

Eddie locked his eyes on her back as she sat down, making everyone on her table look up and smile at her, she didn’t have much friends. Only 3, one of them being Robin Buckley but that didn’t matter, it's not like he was Mr popular at school, but it still put a smile on his face to see her have close friends that she could trust, even if he wasn't one of them.

"Hey, Henderson?" Eddie asked his younger friend. Making the boy look up immediately.

"Yes, Eddie"

"Do you tell your sister about me? Or us ever?" Eddie asked him

"Well um. Not much but I've told her you're the DM of the club and some other stuff I guess" the curly headed boy shrugged

"So nothing about me?" Eddie glared. Not in a mean way but to look more serious than usual.

"Well yeah, I figured she would already know you since you're in the same year and all" Dustin said.

"You would think. But, no" Eddie laughed sarcastically while standing up and walking slowly over to the boy.

"After everything I've done for you guys, the endless campaigns, the taking you under my wing, would you find it in your hearts to...repay my somehow?" Eddie somewhat suggested.

"I mean yeah, sure. What is it?" The Wheeler boy smiled politely

"Put a good word in from me to her, would you?" Eddie replied, picking the boys up by the shoulders

"To who? Y/n?" Dustin stuttered at Eddie's sudden movements.

"Yeah. And while you're at it, go find Lucas, we cant let him be taken to the dark side. Yeah? Ok, go" Eddie demanded, pushing the boys away from him.

~

"Hey Y/n" your younger brother, Dustin greets as you dig through your locker, trying to find your sketch book. You look back and see him and Mike looking a bit distressed as they smile at you awkwardly

"Hi? What do you want?" you smile tightly, exaggerating the 'hi'

"Did you know Eddie gets great grades. He's super smart" Mike moves his hands as he speaks.

"Then how come he's repeated senior year twice" you say, puzzled and confused

"He repeated?" The raven head laughs, acting clueless to his friends failure in education

"Ok seriously, what do you guys what, I don’t have time for this" you shut your locker as you found your sketch book and turn to face them fully.

"Nothing. We just wanted to tell you how great he is. He's amazing, i- we think you'd love him" Dustin nods vigorously

"Sure, Dusty. I'm happy that you found a great friend but he cant be that amazing" you roll your eyes.

Truth is, you found yourself looking at The Munson Boy a lot, whether it was in the hall, Across the cafeteria or in class. You couldn't help it. You found yourself thinking about him before going to bed and it weirded you out to say the least. The first and last time you talked to him is when he bumped into you in the hallway while you we're a sophomore and he was a junior. You wouldn't actually classify it as talking cause all you said to each other was muffled 'sorry's' but you still counted it, yet you don't get why you care if it was talking or not. You knew a lot more than your brother and friends thought you knew about Eddie.

it wasn't your fault you asked the teacher to make you switch seats to sit next to him, was it? It wasn’t your fault you look at his doodles he draws on his desks. It wasn’t you fault for looking for him at pep rallies, you knew he wouldn't be there, but it was worth trying. It wasn’t your fault you couldn't keep your eyes off him when near him. It wasn’t your fault.

"Come on. I bet you have a lot in common!" Dustin pleads for God knows what.

"No. We really don't" you lied

As much as you would like to admit. You liked all the metal bands he did: Metallica, Dio, Wasp, Mötley Crüe.

You liked playing DnD. You played a lot in middle school. Got to level 29 but suddenly stopped playing as the satanic panic flew over. You didn’t want to be known as a freak. You were actually the boys Dungeon master for some time, so you had a lot of experience with the game.

“you don’t even know him yet, you don’t know that” Dustin complains like a child

“why do you care so much if I like him or not, Dusty. I don’t like him so just leave it alone” you say defensively and walk away from the boys.

from a distance you could hear Dustin scowl at Mike for making the mistake of telling you Eddie had good grades and acting like an idiot when you said he had repeated twice. 

You enter your class for the last period and sit down at your desk at the very back where the seat next to you, where Eddie was supposed to be, stayed unoccupied. You sigh and lay your head down on the desk, already bored out of your mind and just tired.

Everyone piles in the classroom and takes their seats with their friends and you stare at the door, not exactly sure what your waiting for, because he barely comes to class anyway but you still wait, just in case.

But he doesn't. Twelve minutes into the lesson and his seat still stays empty.

You start to fall asleep in your chair as a sudden open of the door interrupts the lesson.

"Well, nice of you to join us, Mister Munson" Miss O'donnell says annoyed.

"Yeah, yeah" Eddie mutters under his breath as he passes you to get to his seat.

You look down and your desk with your sketch book open on the only empty page left. The pen in your hand connects with your page and starts doodling random things here and there and soon enough you have a full page of hearts, stars, flowers and bees. A weird combination of drawings on one page but that didn't bother the person watching you.

Eddie found it cute how your tongue peaked out when you were so concentrated on your doodles and when he realised you sighed in a wasted last page of what used to be real sketches of people, animals and things, to now be your subconscious hearts and stars.

He watched you as you shut your book and look up at the boring lecture and finally pay attention.

He didnt want to stop looking at you and after the freshmen told him they had not only failed but made themselves look like idiots, he gave that idea up and wanted to give a good impression himself, if they couldn't do, he should do it.

Eddie stretches his arm out to lay in front of you. Making his sleeve go up more to leave you with a perfect size canvas of his arm to draw on. You look down at his gesture and then back at him, to be met with the side of his face as he looks at the front of the room. Trying to hide how nervous he would be.

"Go ahead, draw" he whispers, still looking ahead but moving his hand toward you more.

You smile sheepishly at him and pick your pen up again and draw on him, trying to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to hurt him in the slightest.

You have no idea what it was supposed to be while drawing it but when you look up to see if he's ok you see him already looking down at you, giving you a slight smile, you look back down at his arm in embarrassment and continue drawing lines and curves, shading some in and leaving some blank, to give some depth just to make it look half way decent.

~

The end of the day bell rings and you get up, packing your things and rushed out of there, not waiting for him to say it's bad or he doesn't like it.

You open your locker and put your stuff in for tomorrow, you drop your pen on the floor and bend down to get it and when you get back up your met with him in front of you.

"Well hello, Sweetheart" he beams at you

"Oh- Hi" you look away and place your pen away, Shutting the door of your locker.

"The drawing looks really cool. You're really good" he compliments

"Oh uh, thanks" you begin to walk away, not slow but enough so he can walk with you. You look down at his on show arm to see the dragon on his arm.

"So um. Dustin told me you play. You should join us sometime, it would be fun" he suggested

"I haven't actually played in a while" you laugh awkwardly

"That's fine. No one would mind, he just told me you were really good so I wanted to put you to the test" he shrugs

"I'll think about it" you say quietly

"You don't have to if you don't want to, I mean I get it, you wouldn't want to get called a freak like me and all, I just thought it would be fun to have you there" he shook his head in embarrassment and looks down his feet

"No it's not that, I just- I dont think you're a freak" you mess up your train of thought and stutter

"You don't?" He looks up, a bit shocked

"No, I don't really get why they even call you that to be honest" you murmur but he still manages to hear you. Making him smile in content

"Well thank you, that um, that means a lot coming from you" he smirks, opening the door to his van.

"You have a way to get home?" He asks hopefully

"Yep" I nod

"Ok. I'll see you later then" he starts the engine and winds the window down.

"I'll play" I tell him making him look at me while slowly back out of his spot

"Yeah?"

"Yeah" I smile

"Well our new campaign starts tomorrow so, you could come then if you want" he suggests

"Yeah sure" I agree

"Great. I'll see you then" he says and heads off

As I walk back over to my car I see Dustin already waiting for me on the passenger side

"I knew you liked him" he smirks

"Who said I liked him?" I unlocked the car and waited for him to get in before starting it.

"Come on. The way you were looking at him! You totally like him" he crosses his arms

"Do not!" I yell loudly before driving out of the car park

"Yes you do" he smiles

"Fine! I do, ok, there" I sigh in frustration

"He likes you too" he giggles like a kid

_______

This is so bad omg😀🤣.

Hope you enjoyedddddd

#joseph quinn #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x shy!reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn x reader #fluff #eddie munson smut #fanfic #stranger things #movies #celebrities #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #hellfireclub #eddie munson imagine #stranger things 4 #st season 4 #stranger things fan #Steve Harrington

[m0r1bund]

This thing’s a mile long, so the rest of the image captions are enclosed under the cut. Continue reading below or at m0r1bund.com ▶︎

◆◆◆

[Image: A big ‘ol sketchpage of funny little centaur-spider-beetle guys. From the waist down, they are mostly hexapedal, with thick carapaces and stocky limbs that are equal parts ungulate- and insect-like. Their upper bodies are more humanoid, with two arms and an upright posture. Their chests and shoulders are enclosed in large, collar-like shells, and their heads are covered by a carapace forming a hood. They have a vaguely avian profile, with large, blunted beaks and oversized mandibles inset into their jaws.

One of them, Rho, hangs out with area human and research assistant Reyes. Rho is bipedal instead of hexapedal, with segmented satyr-like legs and a short, stubby carapace ‘tail.’ Her left arm and leg are mechanical prosthetics, as well. She watches Reyes shred on a makeshift hoverboard that they probably ripped off of a hunk of Imperial junk. In another doodle, Rho rides an old Imperial motorbike through the wastes.

Her cohort Oeste is a battle-scarred old woman with kind of a puckish, sanguine energy. He is missing his left arm. He’s variously drawn hoisting a basket of fish over his shoulder and getting up on his back legs to reach some fruit at the top of a saguaro arm. One drawing shows him carrying a scrongled-looking Reyes on his back, while he comments ‘This seems demeaning, somehow.’

There are some drawings from his not-so-distant past, too. He is shown contending with a space marine-lookin’ soldier on the fields of war. One drawing depicts the fateful loss of his left arm to a brutal cleave of the soldier’s longsword. In another drawing, he returns the favor by firing a mortar point blank at the soldier’s shoulder.

Only later does he learn the soldier’s identity. The Chief immediately identifies Oeste by his arm, and vice versa. It plays out like a reenactment of the ‘same hat’ meme, with the two of them pointing at each other and saying ‘The same arm!’

When the impulse to run away and self-isolate gets the better of Chief, Reyes insists ‘You should at least apologize.’ The Chief looks like she would rather die.

When she does finally sit down on neutral ground with Oeste, getting the apology out is like pulling teeth. She digs her sweaty palms into her knees and says ‘There is no way to rectify this but. I’m sorry. forcuttingoffyourarm’

To his credit, Oeste is very forgiving, if blasé. He says, ‘Oh, it’s no trouble! I think we both learned our lesson. It is very bad to flock like that! What a terrible delusion we have all suffered!’

The Chief strains. She says ‘There isn’t… Some kind of human hivemind… I did that.’

Oeste looks at her blankly and says ‘I fail to understand how that correlates with anything I have said.’

All at once, it finally clicks for the Chief. Geometry and trigonometry overlays converge with sentence fragments about imperialism and settler-colonialism to arrive at the final conclusion, captioned ‘Military industrial complexes is the same’]

◆◆◆

Thinking about my old buddies Oeste and Metahei Rho and [these] [guys] again. There was a time when they were called the Suhti, but  ‘Suhti’ feels exactly like something I would conlang in 2013, so I’m also thinking of renaming them. Nixthi? Nixtli? Nithi? Who knows. Anyway, it was only a matter of time before they found a home bullying the Empire.

Noodling on this sketch page made me realize I was sitting on more ideas than I thought I was. These guys have been living in the back of my brain for all of 9 years, so I guess that’s typical. There’s like 9342345245 separate threads that are coming together in a way that’s hard to untangle, so I’m just going to start writing and hope for the best.

Oeste is the chipper-looking hexapod who’s missing an arm. He’s a former agent of the ‘old guard,’ who gave up the gun and dishonorably discharged himself. He’s considered a kooky old lady with an air of death around him, but is ultimately well-meaning and tolerated. Put a pin in that thought.

Rho is the biped and Oeste’s understudy / one of few people who really trusts him. She and Reyes have some history, where the ashrunners in Reyes’ family regularly met with the wasteland scavengers in Rho and Oeste and co. They’re like family friends. Put a pin in that thought, too.

Trying to describe the, I guess, thesis of the Nithi is hard. I am very leery of the way fantasy+sci fi interacts with the concept of race and especially nonhuman race. If it lingers on biology for too long then I get kind of freaked out, so it’s hard to imagine in that space, even though I love to think about nonhuman cognition + the interior worlds of plants, animals, fungi, etc. But I’m trying! God Do I Try.

Lately I’m drawn to solitary animals who seem to get a genuine kick out of the company of other animals, e.g. octopus interactions with humans. I think that’s so fun to extrapolate on. Allergic to the company of your own species, but hanging out with the funnie primate? Oh Yeah. That’s Good. Put a pin in that thought x3.

One of my bigger bones to pick with 40k is that you really don’t need to narratively justify the dumb shit the Imperium does with some kind of outside existential threat, whether that be Bugs of Unusual Size, or aliens, or Actual Demons. Giving the Imperium a “reason” to exist just feels dishonest about how empires come to be and how they perpetuate themselves. On the flip side, this is a great lesson in how empires construct narratives about themselves. Reading 80% of the 40k lore as wartime propaganda about the ‘other,’ intended to justify this atrocity or that, is what keeps me sane in the trenches of the wiki.

I also just think it’s more fun if the ‘existential threat’ is a fabrication of the unceasing machine of Propaganda ™ in the face of an empire’s own terminal* existence. Legitimate only in that, strictly speaking, it could pose an existential threat to the empire, but an existential threat to an empire =/= an existential threat to its citizens or even humanity, even though a very concerted effort has been made to conflate those. Put a pin in that thought x4.

*Did yuo know? the average empire lasts about ~250 years, which raises some funny historical revisionist headcanons for 40k, but we can’t get into it. gotta sell figs war somehow.

ANYWAY. Speaking of the unceasing machine of Imperial Propaganda, I am always looking to bully the Empire in fun new ways. I think it would be very funny for the Empire to encounter a people who are, like, categorically asocial around their conspecifics and only societal with other sentient species, because Bad Things Have Happened whenever they organize among themselves at scale. And the Empire misunderstands this to mean that they assimilate into some kind of violent hivemind when they gather en masse, but the actual reason they refuse to associate societally is because they’re living out the dying throes of their own collapsed empire. When the Archive describes the Nithi as a monolith ‘so monstrous, a force so bloody and singular of purpose that humanity shivers at the touch,’ that’s just them taking a look in the mirror and not liking what they see. The shots are coming from inside the house.

Of course, it’s great to have some kind of alien ‘other’ for the Empire to justify its existence and lionize its endeavors abroad. Every effort has been made to drive a wedge between the citizens of the Empire and Nithi at large. Probably because if they realized they had more in common with each other than the Powers That Be, as two peoples carrying the baggage of two shitty empires, they would unionize. And That Would Be Baaaaad.

… Which brings me back to Oeste. He is an ex-soldier who fled to wasteland Earth to dodge the high price of desertion, i.e. execution. He had great timing, given that the collapse of whatever dominion was lording itself over the Nithi came right on his heels.

He carries the ‘old troubles’, or wartime knowledge, that most people, Nithi or no, are wary of. But as the Empire trains its eye on Earth, this raises some very real and difficult questions about the right of sovereign Earth to defend itself, and how. Among Earth’s Nithi in particular, this is an existential question of coming together and doing a rare and terrible thing for some sort of greater good. There is enough continuity between ‘old guard’ veterans like Oeste and armed guerilla resistance in the Empire’s frontier that the Empire perceives no meaningful difference; opposition is the same, whether it comes from another empire or a scrappy resistance force. The Archive is still operating on the hivemind hypothesis, so… not likely that they’re going to grasp the intense political landscape of Nithi mutual-defense accords any time soon.

It sucks. But the silver lining is that they get to heckle Imperials with ooky-spooky hivemind jokes. And fool them into thinking they’re acting of much greater numbers and coordination when they are… absolutely not!

Anyway, Oeste came to Earth to ‘get away from all that’ and keep an eye on the youth, e.g. Rho. He hasn’t been asked about his war wounds, and he’s perfectly content not offering his opinion about them unsolicited. (At least, not when it isn’t funny.) Probably there will come a day when that will change, but he hopes not.

Of course, these things have a way of coming back to haunt a guy. Oeste doesn’t talk about his arm for the same reason that the Chief doesn’t talk about hers, or most of her past deployments. Military trauma that you can’t even pretend to be proud of. They met once on the fields of war and left a, errr, marked impression on each other. Who struck first? … That’s between the Chief and Oeste.

Seeing each other in ~peacetime causes a little bit of a situation, but they’re kindred spirits. Oeste has a lot to impart to the Chief as someone who is much further along the whole ‘deprogramming and reintegrating into normal society’ process, and who is perhaps more familiar with what Imperial programming looks like than others. Besides, someone really has to tell the Chief that the Archive might have been wrong about a few things. A lot of things.

Reyes and Rho are just happy to see the old geezer (and Irene, lbr) make a friend.

Other napkin scraps:

Dunno if the hexapod / biped variants are morphs, or lifecycle phases, or if Rho is just a special case.  

Hexapod Nithi have two major gaits—they can walk in an ‘alternating tripod’ gait like an ant or a bee, or in an ungulate-like fashion with an extra set of forelimbs taped on (with all relevant gaits like walking, trotting, cantering, galloping, etc.) The joints connecting to the femur and tibia of the hindmost legs are very flexible, and can shift to accommodate the tripod gait (by facing backwards) or ungulate gait (by facing forwards.)  

It is extremely bad taste to get on someone’s back like a horse why would you do that. (Oeste has no shame though.)  

Probably both an exoskeleton and endoskeleton going on in here, so full-body armor is redundant except where soft tissue is exposed (upper arms, joints, etc.) Clothing and other adornments happen at leisure. Carapace carving, painting, and piercing is especially popular. Rho gets to wear pants because she physically can and because she thinks they’re fun.  

Don’t ask me if they still have stingers or can spin silk or not. I don’t know. I don’t know. it would be very funny to hock a sillystring loogie, though.  

After years of research, the Archive has documented many aspects of Nithi biology that make them such confounding and lethal enemies, including:

Their bulletproof carapaces (true.)

Their venomous bite (false.)

Their ability to regrow limbs (false.)

The fact that they pop out of the propagule fully formed and able to defend themselves (false.)

Their ability to communicate in subaural vibrations (true, but this is only a small component of several larger somatic language families.)

Their keen thermoreceptors (sort of true, they are coarser and more imprecise than the Archive thinks.)

Their ability to smell fear (false.)

Their inability to feel pain, remorse, or any emotion at all in a way that matters (buddy what do you think.)

The Archive is very good at science and would never lie to you.

#tfw you the social animal can't recognize another social animal #chief and the r.a. tag #metahei rho tag #oeste tag #maila reyes tag #chief tag #content warning: blood #content warning: gore #content warning: injury #content warning: war #content warning: xenophobia

[takeru-tenkuuji]

Please do tell us more about your ocs Ikki and Ace bc I too have brainrot about them 👀👀👀 (only if you want to of course) -🟡

anon im so sorry about what im going to subject you and many people to (if they read this (or the attempted version 2 that i tried to recall from memory due to me losing this draft originally, neither of which is advised)

***basically i found this draft lost in god knows where?? its the same but it..sounded more coherent than the other one and i just think itd be silly if i just had both left out there...lol..the only thing updated is that i added an extra doodle. everything else is untouched)

um something something heed suspension of disbelief. like ive warned, this is basically something totally made up in my head to the point that it deviates severely from the work's original intentions and such

but siiiiiiince you aaaaasked (cry) and i am currently sick with the flu so literally sick in the head i will do this until i think oh god, i have to be put down and never come back to the internet because i put my shitty yaoi au in here so in detail

we'll start with adjustments to revice's general plot (lol)

so this is an au where for me, george rly goes for the "make the ultimate kamen rider" guy. his father stays forever an asshole dedicated to finding shit about science, and would only create shit like the weekend to clean up his mess, but not because he feels genuine remorse. this (imo) gives george more reason to continue on hating his dad(?), and thinking he's creating something to surpass him.

george's obsession is created by his father neglecting him in his childhood and leaving him with just kamen rider to watch and play with while he worked. george grows up with a growing vengeance to beat his father at his own game i guess. feeds into a potential narrative parallel with olteca? idk

so george sets his sights on potential candidates: igarashi daiji, and kadota hiromi. both seek some sort of..justice or strength, proving one's worth, (till it all goes horribly wrong via canonical events). and of course, the inheritor of revice, ikki comes into play. george gambles on this.

in this version, they also find that ikki is not just a descendant of giff thanks to his father's genes, but giff's target human vessel. the only reason vail hates vice's guts besides wanting to kill genta's family, because he's protected under giff's will.

giff creates a demon, vice, to inherit all of ikki's memories (at least, the painful ones he doesn't want to remember, but it eventually becomes just, everything lol). vice gets a consciouness, ikki's humanity that wants to protect ikki, but ikki wants to throw away his humanity and becomes an empty kind of guy. vice inherits the desires to be boisterous and selfish, instead of somehow put together and reliable, but instead it makes ikki wonder what the hell he wanted to begin with, and desperately fills in the hole by trying to help people via nosiness, etc. hence the whole volcano form convo i think. idr. LOL

so fast forward to the sorta endish of the season, they destroy giffs body, which is perfect so he can be released from his physical form and move on to vice/ikki. george knows all of this information, and decides it's the perfect setup to test ikki's will to become a kamen rider through the wildest hardship or whatever. so george goes and tells everyone that the igarashis are descendants of giff and spreads fear that even though giff is destroyed, this family exists. shit happens.

of course, happy spa's small but passionate loyal clients try to protect the family and such, but then vice becomes a conduit to transferring giff's consciousness into ikki once he loses all his memories, he transforms into his own demon and starts attacking everyone.

(i tried lol) (sneaking in a new image)

giff has a good hold over ikki till- uh oh. huh. the demon you put all of the human memories is goin a lil crazy. vice, fueled by ikki's memories and intense emotions, alongside giff's uncontrollable power, ends up destroying giff (yay) but takes over ikki's psyche as an absolutely uncontrollable beast.

george, seeing this as a failed experiment, uses his backup plan to be the ultimate kr himself as juuga to defeat ikki, becoming a hero for the public watching and cheering him on. just like kamen rider!

except of course, igarashi family, everyone known through the season, the weekend kids, hiromi try to get through to ikki revisiting their beloved memories with him (gl daiji) while the happy spa friends try to hold back the angry mobs.

ikki begins to regain consciousness and wonder if he really was that kind of guy before

ikki's family is the last to speak to him and of course it's like. fond memories, bad memories, things that they like and hate about him, things that make him him, etc, and give that big ol berserker man a hug.

vice finally speaks up with his piece, revisiting his own individual memories with ikki as his demon, etc.

george is perplexed and livid, but he's not sure why. this would count as a success in his experiment, but not in the way that he thought it would be. the cliches of kr fulfilled(?). and the crowd no longer cheers him on.

ikki regains revice form, no vice because vice has uh. merge merged with him now. fights george, last busybody guy to hit. woooooo ahhh (coughing hacking)

and here comes my oc, post season vice LMFAO. which is just the hbdvd design bc i believe in giving maeda the chance to be just a liddle goth and have a little dangly earring

post canon vice is pretty much a preservation and a box holding ikki's memories, if ikki fights and forgets, he reminds him. but due to inheriting these memories and merging with ikki's messed up post canon soul, he ends up a lot more subdued as ikki no longer gives a shit about being a loud boy and breaking free. he just doesn't want to be alone. LOL (and in caption note, it's preservation vice and destruction ikki ty sorry. ikki in my brain wants to destroy memories, vice preserves them for him) yay. he switches in as easily as kagerou does with daiji, but doesn't like to make much conversation outside.

and FINALLY this is where my other oc (jkjk) ace comes in.

the weird ass movie, revice and geats battle royale whatever, ace uses a desire wish on ikki for him to remember all the battles he's had in place of ikki potentially wishing vice back. (i guess in this au, it'd just be in place of him wishing literally anything better for himself. also vice would absolutely hate that (ace)).

in terms of au material in geats, i believe in evil parents..or more like...morally.....wack ass parents....... like you can't be the goddess of creation that was abused for a silly future man game and not go a little crazy... so to me, the mother that ace seeks is long gone, and when he finds her again before she dies, she tells him they should just fuck up the world (thumbs up) for everything it's done to them. ace is faced with 1) contemplating the human side of him that craved what he believed was family (through keiwa and his sister, the complicated relationship between neon and her family, as well as ikki's) 2) whether he wanted to do anything with his power towards the world because of his mom, what his mom put him through, what the world put them through (hence the tarot card, judgement. the power and the perspective to judge the world?)

i love the ninetailed fox theme sorry so not only is he a white haired anime boy in god form, BUT A FURRY

so in this perspective, ikki and ace represent opposite sides of like..the demon and angel shared blood with human spectrum, and how they go about the world that way. how they see each other is a weird balance that clashes and also completes each other(?)

anyway that's my spiel because im losing brain as we speak and starting to feel the effects of oh god, who the hell is going to read this. if you made it here, im sorry. uhhhhh i love yaoi............

#IT'S HERE #sorry this is a late reply #and one hell of a reply good luck #asks #anon #long post #like #really long #text #(here to poison the water) #q

[reallydumbdannyphantomaus]

Switch

hey!!! so i'm posting a day earlier than i said i would. really, i'm just impatient by nature. kwan's, uh, struggling in this one. (ao3) (masterpost)

Part 2 Chapter 6

Kwan didn’t mean to ignore Danny. It’s just that Danny seemed to want this to be about him and it wasn’t. Just like Mom since the news came out, Danny was pushing and pushing for him to talk about it. Tyson dying had nothing to do with him. He didn’t need comfort or whatever. He wasn’t avoiding Danny, he was avoiding the awkwardness of Danny trying to soothe him.

Okay, maybe he was avoiding Danny.

Kwan didn’t want to talk about it. He wasn’t sad right now, but talking about it would make him miserable. The assembly was unbearable; all that emotion and eulogy nonsense—it’s like they were trying to make him cry. He wasn’t even friends with Tyson anymore. He had no business crying over him. Putting in his headphones, he listened to a football podcast instead.

The gym doors swung closed behind him and he headed the throng of students moving toward the classrooms. Pete Prisco was theorizing that the Patriots would be back on top of their division by the end of the month; Jason LaCanfora called him an idiot. Kwan hoped LaCanfora was right; Dash was always a huge Patriots fan.

Maybe he should get his own team. The Dolphins? No, if he picks a rival of the Patriots to spite Dash that’s still making the decision about Dash. Maybe the Bengals? No, their uniforms were ugly. The Panthers? Did he want to watch a whole team just for Christian McCaffrey?

This bore thinking about. Way more thinking about than being sad.

As he was mulling on the merits of becoming a Colts fan (pros: Indianapolis is close enough that he could maybe go to some games; cons: they suck), he bumped into someone as he tried to push through the door of his Creative Writing class.

“Watch it,” he said without looking.

The person scoffed. “You bumped into me, dick.”

Normally, turning to see Sam Manson, hands on hips and glaring at him, would’ve caused his heart to stutter in anxiety. Today, though, Kwan just felt exhausted. His shoulders slumped and the straps of his backpack slipped down.

“Whatever,” he said. He fixed his eyes back on the floor and shuffled toward his desk, dropping his bag to the floor with a thunk.

Manson frowned at him. “Are you… okay?”

Jesus. Why did everyone keep asking him that? Manson didn’t even like him.

Kwan rolled his eyes and said, “If I’m ever not, I’ll make sure you’re the first I call.”

“Tell me something: do you have to try to be such a dick, or does it come naturally.”

“You already called me a dick ten seconds ago. Get some new material, Manson.” Kwan put his head in his arms. “And go to your own desk.”

The thing was: Kwan knew he was being a jerk. He knew that Manson was actually trying to be nice to him. It’s just that anyone being nice to him right now felt kind of like swallowing glass, felt like reaching into his stomach with a red hot poker and swirling it around. They should save their niceness for Tyson’s older brother, for his father and mother, even for Dash and Valerie.

Kwan wasn’t even friends with him anymore.

“You know, you already stole my best friend. You could at least act like a person to me.”

“Danny’s his own person. He makes his own choices.”

“You know what I mean.” Manson moved like she was going to sit down, then stopped and turned back. “Is he… is he doing alright?”

Kwan blinked. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s okay.”

“Because I know he wasn’t doing so great earlier, and I’m sure our fight didn’t help, and Tucker said—I just, he’s okay, right?”

Kwan met her eyes for the first time. “He will be. And—and he’ll come to you when he’s ready. Promise.”

Manson bit her lip, nodded once, and finally, finally sat down. Kwan turned his attention to his desk, scribbling on a sheet of paper.

He was only vaguely aware when Ms. Suarez closed the door and began class. He doodled in the margins of his notebook as Ms. Suarez discussed the concept of ekphrasis and the ekphrastic poem. Normally, this was the only class he could focus on, but today, he couldn’t hear anything over the buzzing in his head.

He moved through the rest of his classes the same way. Like he was wading in the ocean, struggling against the waves for each step forward. He ate lunch in the library. He stared out the window in English. His notebook was covered with little pictures of the ectopus and the robot ghost even though looking at them made him kind of queasy.

—

He barely noticed when Danny split off from him after school, going to his own house instead of Kwan’s, and he walked the rest of the way home alone.

He walked in, said hello to Mom, ignoring her questions as he slipped into his room. He kept his answers monosyllabic through dinner, picked at his food, then excused himself and collapsed in bed.

The next day, he kept to himself again. Danny kept trying to talk to him, but he avoided him in the hallways. He was just tired of people being worried. He just wanted to be left alone.

He ate lunch in the library, again. Didn’t look at Danny. Didn’t wait for Danny after class, instead jogged out of the school and home before Danny could said one word to him.

“No Danny again today?” Mom said as he walked in the door.

“No.” He dropped his bag on the floor and moved toward his room, avoiding his mother’s eyes as best he could. He just had to get out of here before—

“Honey,” Mom said, “are you alright?”

Before that.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’m fine.”

“You are not.”

“Oh, so now you’re going to tell me how I feel?” Something hot and ugly was bubbling in his chest, ready to burst out. He was so sick of this, of having to deal with everyone’s concern for no reason.

“I don’t know how you feel, but I’d wager that ‘fine’ doesn’t factor in.”

“Well, I’d feel better if people would stop bothering me and leave me alone.”

“Kwan.”

“What?”

“Do you want to have this conversation now or later?”

“I don’t want to have this conversation at all. And I don’t need it, either.”

Mom held up her hands in retreat. “Okay! Okay. I’ll table this conversation for the rest of the day, if you do just one thing for me.”

Kwan groaned, setting his bag on the floor. When Mom got an idea in her head, she was impossible to talk out of it. If it wasn’t today, sometime soon he was going to have to sit down and talk about his feelings with her because she’d decided that he had to be sad about what happened.

Well, it was sad. Just not sad for him in particular. Sad for Tyson.

Still, he’d take his one day reprieve. Maybe she’d forget in the meantime.

(She would not forget. He knew she would not forget.)

“Would you come with me to the park? I think we could both use some sun and fresh air.”

Kwan rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

The walk to the park was short, filled with Mom’s idle chatter about her day, about the patients she saw, about her frustration with one particular nurse who couldn’t seem to figure out how to put in an IV (“I know she’s new, but she’s been new for about six months now and she ought to have learned something in that time”). It was nice, not to have to react beyond a considering hmm.

Mom led him to a park bench that had been warmed in the sun all day. The air was cool, but not chilly. In the sun, it was nearly warm enough to take off his jacket. Mom stopped talking, instead taking the spot next to him and grabbing his hand.

Just sitting on the bench, Kwan could feel the gentle, low warmth of the late autumn sun hit his face. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, ignoring the nip of the wind at his chin and ears and focusing on the energy of the sun.

Of course, it couldn’t last.

“It’s okay to grieve, hon. Even if you weren’t friends anymore.”

“Cool,” he said, keeping his eyes closed.

“I know he wasn’t your best friend, not like Dash, but you invited him to your birthday party last year. You made him cupcakes when he made the football team. You loved him. That doesn’t go away after a month.”

“I thought you said we weren’t going to talk about this.”

“I’m just worried about you. This isn’t something you should ignore.”

“There’s nothing to ignore!”

Mom buried her face in her hands. “I’m not a therapist, baby, I don’t know the right words to say. I just know you’re hurting and I want to help.”

“Why don’t you try helping me by listening to what I’m actually saying, not what you’ve decided is wrong with me?”

Whatever Mom was going to say, she was cut off as people started to scream. To the side, he saw a sickening green glow. Another one, then. He was almost grateful; at least it got him out of this conversation.

“We need to go,” Mom said, reaching into her bag. “I will call the Fentons myself, and then we’re leaving.”

The glow was getting closer. “Uh, Mom?”

Mom turned just as the ghost (some kind of green panther? Except, no, it just shapeshifted into a giant wasp. Great) crested the hill into their line of sight. “Now!” she said. She grabbed Kwan’s hand and pulled.

Kwan stood, still feeling sluggish from the day's events, and turned to follow. This was why he didn’t notice as the shapeshifting ghost flew directly at him, turning into a gorilla just as it landed on him.

“Kwan!” his mother screamed as he felt one of his ribs snap. Or maybe he was screaming. How had Danny put up with this so well? It felt like his torso was on fire.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her holding the stupid Fenton thermos, shaking like a leaf everywhere except her ever-steady hands. She fired it at the gorilla on his chest, but the gorilla batted it away like it was nothing.

“Another kid, too!” the ghost said. “She’ll be so happy with me for this one.” Then it lowered its fangs to Kwan’s throat.

Kwan had heard that your life flashed before your eyes when you were about to die. He didn’t know if that was true for other people, but the only thing in his head as his death approached was a prayer he couldn’t speak: oh no, don’t let my mom watch me die.

And maybe he should take up religion, because the godawful, unrelenting pressure on his chest suddenly vanished.

“Kwan! Kwan, baby, are you alright? Can you speak?” And his mom was there, gently cradling his head in her lap, holding him at an angle so that he could just barely see the shape of Danny, in his ghost form, brawling with the other ghost, now in the shape of a bear.

(Of course it wasn’t a god. Of course it was Danny.)

“If you can’t speak, then could you blink for me? Once for yes, twice for no.”

“I can—” he coughed and his ribs burned “—I can talk. I’m okay.”

Mom laughed. “I don’t think any of us are okay right now, but I’m so, so happy you’re alive.”

Tears pricked at Kwan’s eyes. “Yeah,” he said, voice wobbling, “I’m happy I’m alive, too.”

He passed out.

—

“Is he okay?”

Kwan bumbled back into awareness like swimming through so much molasses. He could hear the world around him, someone (Danny?) talking, but he hadn’t quite found his way back to the place where he could open his eyes or move his mouth.

“He’ll be fine.” That was Mom. She sounded so tired. He should let her know that he’s awake.

Once his mouth works again.

“I owe you an apology.”

“You don’t have to—"

“I do. You were right.” Mom sighed. Something was beeping in the background, making it harder to hear the next thing she said. “I just… I couldn’t let you put yourself in danger like that. Except I could, it turns out, to save Kwan.”

“Hey, I came out of it fine this time!”

“I know. But you won’t always.”

“… I know.”

“I don’t know what the answer is. But if you hadn’t been there, then Kwan would’ve died. I was useless. Your parents didn’t get there until the ghost was already gone. You came from halfway across town and got there just in time.”

“Maybe there’s a compromise.”

A shaky laugh. “A compromise, huh?”

“Yeah. Maybe… maybe I can just fight until we figure out something else. Just until my parents finish their exoskeleton or the government becomes aware of ghosts and can do something about it.”

“A stopgap.”

“Yeah.”

Mom sighed again. “I can’t believe I’m compromising on having a child fight deadly ghosts.”

“Sorry?”

“Not your fault. Just what it is.”

Before Kwan could breach the surface, a wave crashed down and dragged him back under.

—

“I thought getting injured was my thing,” Danny said when Kwan finally opened his eyes.

Kwan dragged his lips into a smile. “You can take it back, dude. Tried it. Didn’t like it.”

He was in a hospital room; he had fuzzy memories of waking up once before, but the specifics of the encounter eluded his sleep-addled mind. Danny and Mom were there, he was sure.

Danny chuckled. “Your mom’s getting you checked out,” he said. “The doctor was ready to let you go a while ago, but you took your sweet time waking up. Apparently, your body needed the sleep.”

Kwan flushed. He hadn’t slept more than a few hours at a time since the mall attack. He hoped Mom didn’t put it together; she’d use it as another excuse to pester him about Tyson.

Danny’s hands were on the bed, fiddling with his hospital blanket. The silence stretched on for a long moment.

“What?”

“What?”

“You look like you want to say something.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Danny’s eyes shifted down to Kwan’s feet. “I just—are we good? You’ve been avoiding me for a couple days.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. I didn’t mean—I just wanted to be left alone for a little bit, there. Mom keeps trying to get me to—talk about feelings, or whatever. I’m just sick of it is all.”

“Is there… something to talk about?”

“No! Fuck!” Kwan slammed his head against the back of the hospital bed, ignoring the dull twinge of his side. “Not you too.”

Danny held up his hands in surrender. “Okay! Just asking.”

Kwan sighed. “I know. I know. I’m just… really, really sick of it.”

“Okay. I won’t ask again. Promise.” Danny held out his pinky.

Kwan laughed and shook his head. “You’re still such a dork.” But he wrapped his pinky around Danny’s, and felt something warm and glowing in his chest.

—

“So,” the man in the white suit said, “your injuries came from… a wild gorilla? In Indiana?”

“Maybe it escaped from the zoo,” Kwan said, scratching at the bandages on his chest. Mom nudged his hand away. “How should I know?”

The man had introduced himself as “Agent O” and said he had some questions to ask about Kwan’s attack. Mom hadn’t wanted to let him through the door, but he’d pushed his way through anyway and when she told him to leave, he rested his hand on the gun at his hip. Mom closed her mouth with an audible click. 

Kwan had spent the last ten hours since being released from the hospital propped up on the couch, still woozy from whatever drugs they’d given him. He wasn’t sure if it was because of this haziness or not, but he couldn’t figure out why a government suit was so interested in an animal attack.

“Hm,” Agent O said. He scribbled something in his notebook. “And what color was the gorilla?”

Well, the gorilla had been green. And not always a gorilla. But he shouldn’t say that, right? 

“I was… more focused on it trying to kill me.” Yeah. That could work.

“Really? You didn’t notice the color at all? Nothing about its appearance stuck out to you?”

Who was this guy?

“That’s what he said,” Mom said before Kwan could try to put together a sentence. “Now, who did you say you worked for?”

Agent O pursed his lips and stood up. “Thank you for your… cooperation. We’ll be in touch.”

Mom’s eyes narrowed. “Get out of my house.”

“Of course. Mrs. Huang. Mr. Huang.”

And the agent left, closing the door with a soft click.

A moment passed. Mom picked up one of the spare throw pillows lying in the room and threw it at the door, letting out a screech.

“To come in here—no warrant, no name, no agency even—to come in here while my child is injured and interrogate him, to badger him while he’s still—and to threaten me! To put your hand on your gun in my house! I just—he just—” Mom grabbed another pillow, held it to her face, and screamed.

Kwan’s brain took the opportunity to catch up with what was going on. “Did that guy… did he know it wasn’t a normal gorilla?”

“I don’t know, baby. Maybe. That whole interaction was… sketchy.” Mom ran her hand through her hair and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for freaking out like that. He just… he gave me the willies.”

Yeah. He’d given Kwan the willies too.

Mom moved to replace the pillows to their rightful spots, humming under her breath. It was nice. Peaceful, even. Until:

“We do need to talk, though.”

Oh no. That was never good. Kwan thought back to what had happened yesterday, just before the attack. He had a sneaking suspicion.

“About Tyson?”

“Yes.”

Fuck. And now he was only kind of mobile, so he couldn’t escape the conversation. He stared at the arm of the couch, picking at the fibers. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You know that’s not true.”

It would be if he tried hard enough.

“Now,” Mom said, “you don’t have to talk to me, but you do have to talk to someone. I’ve arranged for you to meet with the new grief counselor at school when you go back on Monday. Either you can talk to her then, or me now. Take your pick.”

Kwan groaned. He had no good choices, it seemed. Well, maybe the grief counselor would finally believe him when he said he was fine. If she didn’t, at least he doesn’t have to deal with her until Monday.

“Fine, if it will make you calm down, I’ll go talk to the grief counselor so she can tell you herself that I’m fine.”

Mom smiled. “Wonderful! I’ll let Dr. Spectra know to expect you Monday morning.”

“Yeah.” Kwan sighed. “Wonderful.”

#danny phantom #dp switch #bug posts #my fic #kwan #my writing #he's so sad!!!!!! #what a boy #anyway its a day early because i am incapable of waiting

[doctorbrown]

BTTF Year-End Tag Game!

This year:

How many times would you guess you watched the first back to the future movie?

At least fifteen times through, easy. Probably more than that.

Did you get any sweet bttf merch? If so, what?

I sure did! I got my really neat BTTF backpack, a Hot Wheels miniature of the DeLorean, a couple prints from CC including a metal print of the DeLorean about to time travel, and probably another thing or two I can't think of off the top of my head.

How many cans of Pepsi Free did you chug this year?

Not one. I don't really drink soda. If I do, it's probably root beer or ginger ale.

What was a favourite bttf fanfic you read this year?

Oh god, one I absolutely LOVED was Time Is A Flat Circle. I really liked the darker tone of this fic, the villainous version of Doc presented here (because he would be a terrifying villain, lbr), and all the foreshadowing done in this fic as you get closer to the end that maybe you'll miss the first time and then you'll see it all come together later—wow, fantastic. Big fan of being unable to change the present/future via the past because everything's set to play out that way.

A favourite bttf fanart you saw this year? (please give us a link, not a screencap/repost!)

Ah hmmmmm. I don't go searching for fanart on here as much as I should, tbh. I did actually catch a couple of the Doctober artworks going around and a lot of those were incredible. I'll have to get back to you on this one.

Did you create any bttf fanart or fanfic? If you did, what one(s) are you proudest of?

I'm working on a doodle of Doc atm for fun, we'll see if I ever do anything with it. But fanfics, yeah, I guess you could sort of say I did! I participated in the Doctober '23 event, and actually completed all 31 days. I'm very hard on myself so I don't know if I'd give one I'm proudest of, but I definitely got much more comfortable with my writing as the days went on.

How many times were you late for school this year?

I have long since graduated haha.

Did you watch any other movies/tv shows with BTTF actors in them?

A few (I'm not a huge film person actually), and I think they were mostly Chris Lloyd's things hmmm—Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the Eighth Dimension, Star Trek III: Search for Spock, I Am Not A Serial Killer, Doc Brown Saves the World (it counts, I guess), Million Ways to Die in the West, there were probably others I'm sure but off the top of my head, these are the ones I remember.

Was there a memorable moment you heard a Huey Lewis song this year?

A memorable moment? Hmmmm I'm not sure. I listened to enough Huey Lewis this year but I can't think of something particularly memorable about doing so.

How many times did you fall down this year?

A couple, probably. Can't say I kept count.

Did you get to see BTTF: The Musical? What was your experience like!

I sure did! I've seen it twice now and I'd see it a third time in a heartbeat. It was an amazing experience, I went in completely blind, didn't know anything about the production, the soundtrack, nothing. When it came to Broadway, my first time seeing it was in the pre-showing (or whatever they're called); like it wasn't technically open yet but wow, I was FLOORED. I came out immediately getting the soundtrack and listening to that damn thing on repeat for weeks.

How many times did your mom retell the story of how she and your father met?

I think she's only told it to me once. Twice, perhaps, for different context. But theirs is not a happy story so it's not exactly something that gets spoken about often.

If you could describe your year in a BTTF quote, which one would it be?

My year in a BTTF quote? Uhhhhh. "Yeah, I saw it on a rerun." OR "Yeah, well uh, let's keep this brain melting stuff to ourselves, okay?"

⚡️LIGHTNING ROUND⚡️

Did you get to: go on any trains, skate on a skateboard, ride a horse, drive a DeLorean, run in the rain, go to a dance, hang up a clock (maybe on this one because I may have knocked one down, can't remember), play the guitar, pull an all-nighter, read science fiction, or drive thru Burger King this year?

Your future is whatever you make it! So what are you going to make of this coming year?

Oh fuck if I know—this may be the year I quit the job that I hate that doesn't pay me what I deserve for my qualifications and figure out what I actually enjoy doing. I'll work on my confidence re: the content I put out, namely being proud of the things I create, whatever they are.

tagged by: @cheriboms (thank you! not only for the tag, but for all the support and kind things you've said about anything I've posted) tagging: i'm not sure who to tag for this but if you see it and you like it, steal it!

#&; all my computations must conform 「 d. games 」 #&; there's something about that one 「 ooc 」 #this was a fun game!

[august-anon]

Sunlit Tattoos

TickleTober 2022, Day 2: Drawn On

----

Fandom: IT movies

Ship(s): Benverly (pre-relationship)

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Bev/Ler!Ben

Word Count: 649 words

Summary: Bev is already planning out some tattoos for when she grows up. She asks Ben for some help.

[ao3 link]

------------

It was rare that it was just the two of them. Usually it was hard to get away. There were only so many places the Losers felt safe enough to hide, odds were that you’d find at least one other person there.

But somehow, not today.

Because today it was just Ben and Bev, reclining in the late summer sun, the familiar stink of the quarry clogging up their noses. Ben leaned back against a tree, watching Bev as she doodled on one of her wrists, dappled in the sunlight that breached through the foliage above. She stuck her tongue out when she was concentrating. It was cute.

“What do you think?” Bev asked some time later, thrusting her wrist out in Ben’s direction from where she laid on the ground.

He took the offered appendage gingerly, helping hold it up so her arm wouldn’t get tired. He twisted his head to look at her finished product: a wolf on a little howling up at a full moon, sketched out all small to fit on her wrist the way she wanted.

“That’s really good!” He said, shooting her a grin that he hoped was more genuine than nervous. “I really like it.”

Bev smiled at him and took her wrist back holding it above her head to examine her handiwork. “It is pretty good, isn’t it? I think I’ll get it tattooed when I’m old enough.”

Then, she shot him a more sly grin. Pulling herself up into a sitting position, Bev shuffled back until she was leaned up against the tree with Ben, the two of them pressed together from shoulder to hip. She thrust her pen into his hand and held her clean wrist out to him.

“Your turn,” she said.

“What?” 

She rolled her eyes with a smile, pushing her unmarked wrist into his other hand. “Draw me a tattoo, New Kid. Come on.”

“O-oh. I dunno, Bev. I mean, isn’t Bill really the other artist here?”

She nudged his shoulder. “Come on, Ben. You wanna be an architect, don’t you? Maybe I’m looking for something a bit more geometric for this next one.”

Ben worried at his lip. “Are you sure?”

“Positive, dummy.”

He took a few moments to think, and then Ben brought the pen down on her skin as delicately as he could, starting to sketch out a shape. Bev hummed as he worked, and slowly, her fingers started to curl up into a loose fist. Then, at a particularly light stroke, Bev gasped and jerked her wrist in his grasp. Ben immediately let go, pulling the pen away as fast as possible.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine, Ben.” Bev huffed, shaking her head with a small smile. “It just tickled a little, that’s all.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He scratched the back of his head. “I can stop, if you want?”

Bev laughed. “How am I supposed to get the tattoo if you don’t finish it?”

“Are- are you sure?”

Bev offered up her wrist once more, an easy smile on her face. As he reached for it, she pulled it back for a moment.

“Just… not a word to the others, alright?”

Ben smiled, drawing an X over his heart with a fingertip. Bev’s smile grew into a grin as she gave him her wrist, and that grin lasted all throughout the rest of his sketching. 

In fact, he was even lucky enough to catch a few giggles when he was drawing in the right places, Bev squirming next to him while trying to keep her arm still. Ben made sure to work extra slowly in those spots. You know, so he wouldn’t mess up. It had nothing to do with wanting to hear her laugh as much as possible.

Ben would draw her a thousand tattoos if it meant he got to hear it just a little longer.

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