#my favorite little violent bean

[artinandwritin]

Is it the day??? Mona wrote smt again??? Yes and its a cute father daughter one shot for Sunniva and Gustav. Just because I can. It's was supposed to be funny af but after the clock passed midnight while i was writing this it turned sad. Have fun lmao

Perfect Little Peanut;

'Your daughter got into a fight.'

Repressing to ask, "did she win?", Gustav Larson let out a nervous laugh as he looked at Snotlout Jorgenson - his half brother, he might add - in slight disbelief. 'Well, uh, that's a first...?'

Snotlout groaned, shaking his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 'Gushat, she broke the other kid's arm. Get your head in the game.'

'But that's impossible!' Gustav argued, crossing his arms over his chest. 'Sunni wouldn't do that-'

'Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, but your "perfect little peanut" is not as "perfect" as you deem her to be,' Snotlout scoffed, before glancing behind him. And there the culprit was, little Sunniva Larson, sitting on one of the engraved benches the Great Hall sported, her feet not even reaching the ground. Four years old and already breaking arms - Gustav didn't really know if he should be proud, like a cool dad, or upset, like he probably was supposed to be.

'She's been asking for Siri.' Snotlout lowered his voice, nodding his head towards his young niece. 'I'm guessing she's still-'

'Bedridden? Oh, yeah, you guessed completely right.'

Snotlout's face pulled in disdain, before stepping aside. 'Go talk some sense into that kid, I'll go talk to Seer. Don't screw it up, brother.'

With that, the older man slapped his shoulder - in a friendly way, but by Odin did it hurt - and trotted out of the Great Hall. Taking a deep breath, clearing his head of all the thoughts circling in his head, Gustav made his way over to his young daughter.

He and his wife Siri, who currently held the cute nickname of "little miss Larson", which he kinda adored, only had one child in their home, which made him love Sunniva even more. Even now, with a bruise on her cheek and fiddling her tiny hands, Gustav adored the girl.

He sat down next to her, tapping his fingers on the wooden bench. The Gods knew Siri was a lot better at this, he was proud to admit it. She had a lot more tact and tenderness than him.

'So...' he breathed out, glancing down at little Sunniva. 'Heard ya got into a fight. Did you win?'

Sunniva shook her head. Her little lip started trembling. 'No.'

Gustav couldn't help but grit his teeth together - okay, now he needed to find out what happened. People would probably call him nosy for it, but he knew his kid. She wouldn't cry over a lost fight.

'M'kay, no problem, I lost a lot of fights too as a kid - still do. Have you ever seen me and uncle Snotty fight? It's a bloodbath, baby- wait, sorry. What happened?' Gustav backtracked, quickly realising his daughter was shrinking into herself at every word of his story.

Sunniva shrugged. 'M'nothing. This girl called Brenna just said somethin' mean.'

'Well, what did she say?'

'She...' Sunniva held still for a moment. She brought her little hand up to wipe her eyes dry, but before she could do so, she let out a little sob.

Oh shit. Oooh, shit. Gustav quickly pulled the girl into his arms, letting her hold onto him as tightly as she wanted. Sunniva immediately burried her face into his neck, letting out little hiccups of sadness as she cried her young heart out.

'Okay, okayyy, we got it, we got it!' the young father - young? He was like thirty-three - tried to calm his kid down, rocking her in his arms. 'Can we do anything? You know I can't beat them up, but-'

'She said you and momma don't love me!' Sunniva bursted out, her sobs worsening and worsening. 'Cuz momma never picks me up from school anymore! And because you're sad all the time! And because you want another baby!'

Oh.

Oooooh.

It suddenly became very clear in Gustav's head and honestly? Hearing that, a bit painful. He felt his heart crunch at the weight of his daughter's words.

'Hey, hey, peanut, that's not true,' he quickly said, gently cradling Sunniva's little cheeks so she was looking at him. 'That's certainly not true! We love you very much! More than anything!'

But that wasn't the only thing Sunniva had said, and with wide, tearful eyes, she was clearly awaiting her other answers. Gustav sucked in some air to give himself some courage.

Why was talking to his young child scaruer than facing off against a deranged maniac?

'And, um... There's a reason for those... Other things. Well, momma can't pick you up from school cuz... She's sick. Just a little!' he quickly said, already dreading the panic he could accidentally cause his little girl with those words. 'And she needs her rest!'

'Why... But why?' Sunniva asked, wiping a trail of snot from her little nose. Typical child style.

Gustav bit the inside of his cheek for a moment - that hurt - as he tried to think of something to say. 'Well... Remember when momma was having a baby and then suddenly not? That wasn't because we don't love you, we just love you so much, we thought you deserved a baby sibling! But... Things went kinda wrong, and that isn't happening now. And momma needs to rest from that, plus... We're kinda sad about it.'

Oh, how he hoped he hadn't screwed this up. That would be very, very bad.

Sunniva sniffled. 'So you do love me?'

Gustav grinned slightly, booping her nose. 'Doubting your amazing dad?'

'No,' Sunniva giggled slightly - before her face fell. 'I'm sorry for breaking Brenna's arm, daddy.'

Gustav shrugged. 'It's okay, she deserved that. Don't tell your momma I said that.'

'I won't.' The little girl shook her head seriously.

'Good peanut. Now, um... No desert for you tonight? Cuz you broke a girl's arm.'

Sunniva gasped, her eyes widening in utter fear. 'You wouldn't dare.'

Gustav nodded, putting the girl back on the ground and getting up. 'Oh, yeah, I would! Cuz I'm not only a cool dad, I'm also a responsible dad. It took me over thirty years, but I've finally done it-'

'I wish I would've asked for momma more-'

'Sunniva!' Gustav gasped. 'I'm offended!'

However, as she giggled, he really couldn't be that offended. Maybe, despite looking exactly like his wife, Sunniva had some of his traits too - like being impulsive. He didn't really know if that was a good thing, but he loved her for it. He couldn't do anything else.

And for next time, he would try teach her how to win a fight.

@rosiethedragongeek for the tags! Did we miss Sunni? Oh yes we did.

Also i imagine Siri being very much panicked when hearing this news cuz "oh no that's my baby-". She's a very concerned mom and we love that for her

#sunniva does the murders #not murders but close #my favorite little violent bean #sunniva larson #httyd #oc #how to train your dragon #httyd oc #how to train a dragon 2 #how to train your dragon oc #rtte #race to the edge #art #artinandwritin's writing #artinandwritin's lore #gustav httyd #gussiri #siri vínteri #but only mentioned #oc x canon #httyd next gen

[thecuriousquest]

Platonic Erasermic with a pregnant reader (They had seen symptoms but brushed it off until she refused her favourite food one day and forced her to take a pregnancy test) how would they react?

as always love u 🫶🫶

-🧼

SOAP ANON! I’ve missed hearing from you! I hope you’re doing well. Thanks for the great request. Hope you have a good one! 🖤🤘

Pregnant!Reader

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs

TW: Platonic yandere themes, Reader was taken advantage of, pregnancy, intimidation, killing

Master List

Requests are currently closed.

—————————————————————————

They had invited you over multiple times, but you always just don’t feel well enough. Finally, they can’t take “no” for an answer anymore. Mic wants to see his bestie. Shota told him they need to be patient and respectful of your boundaries, but Mic said, “We wouldn’t be good friends if we weren’t up her ass all the time.”

Shota could no longer keep his loving boyfriend from seeing you. They buy ingredients for your favorite breakfast, and they’re over in less than thirty minutes for a nice morning with their best friend.

You open the door apprehensively, inviting them in timidly.

“You guys really shouldn’t have.”

“Don’t start with me on that again. It’s the least we could do for our shining star,” Mic states.

He calls you that because of the light you give off with your quirk. You don’t feel so shiny right now though.

Shota looks at you sideways before pulling you into a warm hug. You find comfort in his scarf, pushing your face into the fabric and sighing.

Mic ruins it by making a ruckus in the kitchen as he begins making breakfast. When he’s done, you all sit down at the table.

“I made your favorite with no help from a grumpy somebody,” Mic chides as he eyes his ravenette insomniac.

Shota simply scoffs and gives his thanks to his partner before digging in. Mic rubs his hands together, eyeing his meal with saucer-wide eyes. As the two begin, you sit there eyeing the food with slight disgust. You feel bad. Mic worked really hard on all of this.

But you just can’t eat it. Your stomach doesn’t want it.

“Why aren’t you eating? You love this stuff. I’ve seen you basically inhale it in seconds,” Shota comments.

“Oh, I just…I told you already. I’m not feeling well.”

Shota feels your forehead with the back of his hand. “Huh. You know, I deal with my students telling me they’re sick all the time. I can tell when someone is faking, Y/N.”

“It’s not that kind of sick. It’s my head.”

“You should still be able to eat even with a headache. You don’t look like you’re having a violent migraine,” Mic interjects.

Fuck, what are you supposed to say now?

“What’s really going on? You never want us to see you in the mornings, and you don’t want to eat your favorite foods anymore.”

Turning to the side, you cross your arms and remain silent. A defense which usually doesn’t work well with the pair.

“Zashi, can you go pick up a pregnancy test from the store for Y/N?”

Your cheeks blush. “I’m not taking one.”

“If you have nothing to hide, then you shouldn’t have any objections to taking it.”

———

So, here you are now, sitting in front of them at the kitchen table with a positive pregnancy test.

Shota places a comforting hand on your wrist. “How did this happen.”

You spill the beans to your two best friends as tears stream down your face.

You had gotten drunk at a party, there were a lot of touchy men there. You woke up the next morning and had pieced everything together. It didn’t take long before you realized you were pregnant with an unknown father.

They both look at you with sympathy over the fact that you had been taken advantage of. It doesn’t sit well with them. They force invite you to move in with them, and they track down the bitch who used you. It was a little hard since they had nothing to go off of, but there were security cameras at the party. It was just what they needed to know who did the deed. They instill justice with a righteous fist and kill the guy.

They love you so much and never want you to forget that. That’s why they keep you under lock and key within the safe confines of their home. You are a part of the family now, you and your little baby. They will provide for you both and take care of you. You’ll never have to worry about anything ever again.

#yandere #triggering content #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #triggering themes #yandere x darling #yandere themes #my hero acedamia #boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #my hero academia #platonic yandere erasermic #yandere erasermic #yandere poly erasermic #yandere eraserhead #yandere present mic

[rarepears]

This is the Shen Jiu marries an Arabian prince and gets super into astronomy anon, but I just thought of like.

So, the Arabs do a lot as merchants. Which would probably put them mainly in contact with Shang Qinghua.

It makes me wonder if transmigrator!SQH ended up negotiating a contract with the besotted prince and went "I CAN GET MY POOR LITTLE MEOW MEOW OUT OF HERE AND STOP FEELING LIKE SHIT OVER HOW HIS STORY ENDED!!!!" and proceeded to immediately do everything in his power to make that marriage happen because while he has zero confidence that dropping Shen Jiu in the lap of someone who adores him unconditionally will fix him now or ever, it definitely can't make things worse, and will in fact go a very long way to preventing things getting worse.

Also makes me think of SQH eventually being like the only one Shen Jiu kept in contact with, because yes he's annoying and pitiful, but when he was pulling the "marry Shen Jiu to besotted foreign royalty" bandwagon, it wasn't because he wanted to get rid of him, it was because Shang Qinghua wanted Shen Jiu to be around people who liked and would appreciate him, rather than stuck rotting in Harem Drama Hell. Maybe initially they only kept in contact for trade agreement reasons (which was ostensibly the purpose of this marriage) but SQH always made sure to a) bring some of Shen Jiu's favorites from home, b) genuinely make sure he was okay, and c) check and make sure that his husband was still besotted. Maybe Shen Jiu discovered SQH had a "smuggle my scariest shixiong to......... Eh I'll figure it out" plan in the event of Shen Jiu being mistreated? Or one of his least favorite courtiers says something snide and before Shen Jiu can get a word out Shang Qinghua says something that makes the man cry with fear. Idk how they get to the point of "spiritually you are siblings" but I am having visions of Shang Qinghua and Shen Jiu drinking anachronistic coffee (bc this is Airplane's novel ofc it is) over tanghulu and red bean paste buns and not mentioning the peak lords even once. Just chatting about trade and SJ running the kingdom with his husband and fabric and cool knives. Possibly with a side of Shen Yuan being a prince (adoption? Magic? Who knows) and SQH being his favorite uncle.

.......I wonder if SQH warns Shen Jiu that Binghe is coming/keeps him updated on demonic happenings.

.................wasn't OG Rat Qinghua supposed to get murdered by MBJ for betraying him.

Oh no.

NOW I am going down rabbit holes of Moshang typical violent misunderstandings and lack of communication, except this time SQH is the adoptive younger brother of an Arabian queen, and oh God the court intrigue and politics and drama you could pull with that. Esp if Shen Jiu eventually just. Yoinks SQH. "If this ice king wants to keep you around then he's welcome to start fucking acting like it."

And ofc Shen Jiu's husband won't say shit besides "oh we gotta welcome my brother in law appropriately! Make sure he has clothes and nice rooms etc etc" because he's also familiar with the little merchant/logistics lord who is absolutely wide eyed fluffy hamster levels of ADORABLE (bc I firmly believe SQH is the cutest little thing second to nothing but White Lotus Binghe, and also oblivious to this) and correctly thinks that having SQH's spymaster/logistics capabilities working for them is a good thing.

So SQH gets a break, gets to wear some super pretty clothes, gets to never have to worry about freezing to death, or getting injured accidentally or otherwise, etc etc. The courtiers, especially the scientifically inclined ones, adore him, partly bc he's cheating using modern knowledge. But he tells such wonderful stories! And he runs things so efficiently!

The Queen is sharp and brilliant, beautiful and vicious when provoked. His younger brother is just as intelligent, but is absolutely adorable, skilled at organization and he tells the *best* stories.

(please I just want Shang Qinghua to get so much of the appreciation he craves that he doesn't even know what to do with it)

MBJ and LBH are both sulking in the demon realm bc Shen Jiu is forcing them to think about what they've done and use their words.

......ok now I want "disillusioned but naive" Binghe and "learned but foolish" Shen Yuan to get a romance. They both learn that life and the world isn't what they thought it was together. Shen Jiu is furious but Binghe has taken every bit of his running a kingdom advice to heart and is truly genuinely doing everything right. Finding out the beast refuses to so much as hold hands with A-Yuan until Shen Jiu has approved of him would, once upon a time, have caused him to double down on disapproval. Now- with his doting husband who looks thoughtfully at the pair and says, with the look on his face that means he's thinking of their own relationship, "maybe we should give him the chance to disappoint us first. Something tells me he's not going to,"- Shen Jiu sighs heavily and sets about making a true good faith attempt to finding out if Binghe and a-Yuan are suited to each other.

(the main reason he does so is because his a-Yuan loves monsters, and Binghe will be able to take him to see as many as he wants while still being single mindedly focused on keeping him safe.)

YES YES YES!

EVERYTHING IS A BIG FUCKING RED YES!

SOMEONE MAKE THIS INTO A 100K FIC BECAUSE THIS IS PERFECTION!

[More in #Shen Jiu is forced into an arranged marriage to an Arabian Prince AU]

#shang qinghua #shen yuan #svsss #svsss ideas #svsss au #the scum villain's self saving system #mxtx #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #yue qingyuan #luo binghe #Shen Jiu is forced into an arranged marriage to an Arabian Prince AU

[sparkedblaze]

Hi here's all my favorite things about Livesies as I watch it

92sies

This is fsfs gonna be part 1 of 2 or 3

T/W violence, cursing, ets

The Overture. It plays all these semi-familiar tunes from 92sies with a little funky freshness to it and I love it sm

THE FUCKING PROJECTIONS AHAHHHHH

CRUTCHIE BEING THE ONLY OTHER NEWSIE (BESIDES ALBERT) WITH A BACKWARDS HAT

"I ain't been walkin' so good" 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

"Doyawannabustyaothalegtoo?!" "Uh.. no I wanna go down."

"Ya seein' stars alright."

Their accents and over acting are amazing

A big life in a small town SUCKS Jackson Kelly

Heh heh

*waves hand in front of Crutchie's eyes*

CRUTCHIE ACTUALLY CLOSING HIS EYES AND HIS LIL SMILE WHILE HE'S IMAGINING SANTA FE

DID I MENTION THE PROJECTIONS

yA RIDe it inStyLE FEACHA ME RIDIN IN STILE

"WORK THE LAND CHASE THE SUN SWIM THE W H O L E R I O G R A N D E JUST FOR FUUUUN"

"WATCH ME STAND😄 Watch me run 😀 🙁"

"hey HEY"

THE IDEA THAT THE PROLOGUE IS ACTUALLY A PROLOGUE I THINK IT'S @raggedy-albert 'S HC

RACETRACK MOTHERFUCKING HIGGINS

ALBERT FUCKING DASILVA

"A leg of lamb 🥰"

R A L B E R T

FINCH

BEN COOK SKY FLAHERTY IAIN YOUNG JOSH BURRAGE

MUSH'S HOP LOOKING FOR HIS HAT

MIKE AND IKE TRADING HATS

CRUTCHIE SHINING HIS CRUTCH

BUTTONS' HAND MOVEMENT ON 'FISHES'

JACK NUDGING SMALLS ON 'FISHES'

IAIN YOUNG'S LIL RAT BOY FACE

'Step aside Romeo nothin more concerns u here'

Poisonally

Kath's sass

Darcy pretending he's straight

"I'M CRUSHED"

"Gonna rain?" "Uuuuhhhhhh..... No rain oh-ho partlycloudyclearbyevenin"

"BLIND" "AND MUTE" "AND DEAD"

Jack taking Finch's slingshot

Flip

Tommy's lil hops

"I LIKES LIVIN CHANCEY"

ELMER AND BUTTONS TAKING OFF THEIR HATS WHEN THE NUNS SHOW UP

"I dunno Sister, but it's bound to rain soon'a o' lat'a!"😃

BEN COOK

ANTHONY ZAS

NICK MASSON

JOSH BURRAGE

SKY FLAHERTY

IAIN YOUNG

CHAZ WOLCOTT

AND ALL THE OTHERS WHO I DON'T REMEMBER THE NAMES OF THE ACTORS

Everyone hopping to give their cups back

"I DO TOOOOO SO IT MUST ME TRUUUUUE WHAT A SWITCH, SOON WE'LL ALL BE RICH DON'T KNOW A BETTER WAY TO MAKE A NEWSIES DAYYY"

Their entire lil dancey dance right here

Elmer offended at being whacked with hat

"GOTAFEELINBOUTAHEADLINEISMELLSMEAHEADLINEPAPESAREGONNASELLLIKEWEWASGIVINEMAWAYBETCHADINNERITSADOOZYBOUTAPISTOLPACKINFLOOZYDONTKNOWANYBETTERWAYTOMAKEANEWSIESDAYIWASSTAKINOUTTHECIRCUSANDTHENSOMEONESAIDTHATCONEYSREALLYHOTBUTWHENIGOTTHERETHEREWASSPOTWITHALLHISCRONIESYOIMGONNATAKEWHATLITTLEDOUGHIGOTANDPLAYTHEPONIESWEATLEASTDESERVESAHEADLINEFORTHEHOURSTHATTHEYWORKUSJEEZIBETIFIJUSTSTAYEDALITTLELONGERATTHECIRCUS"

Finch finger guns

Jack taking Finch's hat

Smalls diving under Finch's leg

Finch's face right before they say 'yeah!'

Whatever Al's face is doing ever

*disappointment*

Romeo waving like the little bean he is

"WATCH IT"

"It's honest woik"

"AINCHA FADDA ONE O THA STRIKAS"

Albert and Racer

Ralbert

Whack whack

The Delanceys running into each other

Morris hopping from steps

Everyone getting their bags

ALBERT PUT YOUR FUCKING HAT ON

Big smiles everyone, we just finished the first big number Race: :O

Davey trying to slow Les

"I'll call ya sweetheart if you spot me 50 papes"

"I'M NEW TOO"

Albert, to Jojo: Yo check this shit out. Watch what I'm about to do to this bitch "YOU HAVE A VERRRRY INTERESTING FACE. EVER THOUGHT ABOUT GETTIN' INTO MOVIN' PITCHAS?!"

"BUY A TICKET THEY LET ANYONE IN"

*Does not pay*

Everyone's face when they laugh at Jack making fun of Oscar

"The faymus Jack Kelly"

Ben Cook's dumbass socks

Jack's "holy fuck he can do math" face

Specs laughing at Jack's reaction to Les knowing math

"That's disgusting"

W i b b l e

Specs never using stairs properly

Albert riding in on Pulitzer's desk

FOOTBALL? *whack* VIOLENT? *whack*

"Guess what? He got elected." *runs*

Nunzio.

My roommate and I accidentally mashing cut and slit like twice and so now we say slut instead of either

"-like an army that's marching to war." I mean... He wasn't wrong

Has anyone noticed how similar Hannah and Kath look?

BIG STEP BIG STEP BIG STEP

"buy a pape from a poor orphan boy" *cough cough*

"BORN TO THE BREED"

"THIS IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN SCHOOL" "This kid"

Racetrack hawkin in the background and bolting when Snyder comes

"Doesn't everyone?"

ALL THE CONTINUITY ERRORS IN MEDDA'S THEATER. THE BOYS GOING FROM NEWSIES TO FAKE MUSTACHE MEN AND BACK

LOVEY DOVEY BABY PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND

Jack saying pocket with the same intensity that Draco Malfoy says Potter

MEDDA FUCKING LARKIN

"The only thing I own is the mortgage"

"ARE YOU BLIND SHE GOT NO CLOTHES ON"

The look Jack and Davey share when Medda says she knows the governor

"YOU PICTURED THAT?!"

"Take it easy, it's a bunch of trees."

"Jeez! I never knew no one with a aptitude!"

"I AM?! HOW 'M I DOIN'?!"

'I'm better than you' the song

Jack's lil figure 8 dance with just his head

"And prayers from the Pope"

Devin Lewis as Jack for like two scenes.

"AND. MY. BANK."

Watching Jack recognize Katherine

"Why don't you go find out?" 👀

"You want I should lock the door"

"Doin what?"

It's hard to like a whole lot about the scenes where they're flirting bc Kath is so outwardly uncomfy with it

And also they're both simps for Jacobses

*two finger point*

"sOrry mIss mEddA"

Jack's hesitation before he starts singing

"Girls are nice, once or twice, til I find someone new" You bisexual pining bitch

Does anyone know who does the actual sketch?

T H E P R O J E C T I O N

"-and you lie like a rug!"

"What are you doing?!"

"Hey-hey quiet down there's a show goin' on!"

"Shhhhhhhhh"

"Everr"

HAT TIP AND SMIRK AS JACK IS CLIMBING DOWN

MIKE AND IKE GIVING OFF THE MAJOREST SIBLING EVERGY

"Sirens is like lullabies to me."

DELANCEY DEVASTATION AT "they've got a mother" THEY'RE SO TRASH AND HURT I LOVE THEM

"He traded her for a box o' cigars!" "HEY THEY WAS CORONAS"

"Ain't we the hoi polloi!"

"Ask me after they put up the headline"

"Is that news?" "ITISTOME"

Romeo. R O M E O

"I ain't payin' no sixty."

DEUS SPECS MACHINA

BAMBAM "C'mere fellas"

Henry's pose as he says "AIN'T WE GOT NO RIGHTS?!"

IK THAT EVERYONE SAYS TOMMY LOOKS DOWN BC HE'S CONFUSED WHEN JACK SAYS 'WOULD YOU KEEP YOUR SHIRT ON' BC HE'S WEARING A SHIRT YADDA YADDA BUT HE'S NOT THAT'S HIS UNDERSHIRT. SO HE'S CONFUSED BC HIS SHIRT IS ALREADY OFF. BACK IN THOSE TIMES BEING IN JUST YOUR UNDERSHIRT, YOU MAY AS WELL HAVE NO SHIRT. THX FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK

LES SHOVING PEOPLE

Crutchie desperately trying to hop to keep up

Jojo and Elmer.

"Hey Jack you still thinkin?" "Sure he is. Can't ya smell smoke?"

(I'm out of character limits so this is part 1)

#my favorite things about newsies #my favorite livesies things #newsies #livesies

[silent-raven13]

Lil Billie don't play!

The Spider-Gang were baking at Miles' apartment, little Billie helping her big brother make cookies. The gang decided to show off their baking skills to show off their favorite treats. Billie wanted chocolate chips cookies, so Miles is making his own version of Chocolate Chunks Chip Cookies.

The gang and Ganke were all chatting having drinks and snacks while baking. Gwen and Hobie were talking about favorite indie band from Hobie's world, and Pavtri and Ganke were talking about funny things their own family done as growing up in an Asian household. Miles listening by the side while he smiles at his little sister who's adding the sugar into the bowl.

"Oh yeah! My Chachi always found ways for me to do extracurricular activities like cricket!" Pavtri said.

"Yeah, my mom wanted me to lean the violin and I always hated learning the violin." Ganke said.

Hobie laughing along with Gwen, "Really, you think his hair look like mustard?"

"Yeah, terrible color and his outfit was so red it was giving Mustard and Ketchup." Gwen laughs along, "But I like that one band called Misery. That opening song was fire."

"Yeah, that group is really good. The singer always getting arrested. Gotta respect her."

"Yeah, she's so cool." The blond young woman agreed as she put green J-ello in a bowl with some toasted pecans.

Pavtri kneading the mixture in a pink bowl making Gulab Jamun, while chatting with Ganke. "Huh, yeah. I never liked Cricket. I told her I rather do something like Yoga, or Kalaripayattu."

"I always liked playing basketball but my mom thought it was to violent." Ganke sips his White Claw. Billie leans over to smile at Ganke, "Hey, Boo."

The five year old happily helps her big brother add the chocolate chunks into the batch of cookies. "Hi-hi, Key!" Little Billie giggles as her brother helps her pours brown sugar into the bowl. "Yum?"

Ganke went over to sniff, "Mmm, yummy!"

Miles let him have a taste of the cookie dough, "Good?" His best friend took an extra spoon filled with cookie dough to try, he chews it for the moment then his eyes gleam with joy.

"Mmm, yo this is fire. Did you use vanilla bean paste? And the chunks are good?" He said licking his lips.

"Hahaha, the secret is a mix of milk chocolate and a lot of dark chocolate." Miles smiles widely at his best friend.

"You would add a lot of dark chocolate." Gwen hums, which got Hobie to smile from ear to ear.

"OPP!" Pavtri giggles.

"Duh, I do love dark chocolate." Miles playfully wink at his boyfriend who turned pinked by the flirtation.

Hobie chuckles as he mix his Sweet Potato into pudding in his own mixing bowl. "I know you do, Sunflower." He lick his lips can't wait for later when it's Billie's nap time, so he can have a full make out session.

The four year girl eyeing at Hobie with a squint in her eyes, she will put a stop to any of his devious thoughts. Her big brother is a sweet and she wants all of his attention.

Miles let his little sister stir the batter while he helps her, "That's right, boo-boo. Good job."

"I'm helping!" She happily said with her high pitch voice, she did a little dance.

"Yeah, you're amazing at this, Billie-boo!" Miles cooes at her as they saw the dough and chocolate chips are perfectly mixed. "Oh, now we can make them cookies, boo-boo."

"Oh yay!" She can't wait for these cookies, "Umm.. Umm.." Her head turns back and forth with her finger on chin, and her braided hair with butterfly clips at the ends made clinks sounds. "Remem-bur daddy wants some cookies."

"Oh, I almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me, Boo!" Miles smiles at his little sister for being such a big helper. "You're always my best helper!"

"Hehe, I am!" She proudly puff her chest being pleased for getting praised by her big brother.

Pavtri smiles at Miles, "Awe, Billie. You're so adorable."

Miles look at Gwen's bowl, "Um, Gwen. What is that? It's so green, and you're using cottage cheese?" His eyes widen at the tub of cottage cheese.

"Yeah, this is Watergate Salad with a twist. My mom use to make this for my dad then he would make it for us on Christmas." Gwen open the cottage cheese to dump into the bowl with the green J-ello, legumes and marshmallows. "It's good! Trust me!"

Pavtri and Hobie share the same look of concern, yet they are willing to try for their friend. They knew how much Gwen tries to cook for them and put so much effort even if some meals are questionable.

"Okay..." Miles tries to force an excited tone but had a a straight face.

"What? It's not gross. Look I'ma add the Cool Whip!" Gwen open a big tub of Cool Whip, "And this is super easy to make! I don't need to bake or use the stove. All I need to do is add it into the fridge once I'm done!"

Miles got a tray with parchment paper on it, while Billie happily hold the bowl. She saw the ice cream scoop being covered in butter to scoop the thick dough. "Ohh! I wanna do it, hermano!" She holds her hand out having her fingers reaching out.

"Wait, let me show you first, okay?"

"Okay." Being perfectly behaved, the four year old had her hands together as she watches her brother showing her how to scoop cookie dough on the tray. Miles slowly show her then place the dough on the tray seeing how Billie nodded. She's such a well behave girl.

Without out the Black Latino knowing, he felt cold cream on his cheek. "BAM! Gotchu!" Gwen giggles having to put cool whip on her friend's cheek, "Your too slow!" Miles took the hit without feeling bothered, since this is how they play around.

But for Billie, she did not like that. She took it as bullying on her big brother, and seeing how hard Gwen put that whip cream on his face got her feeling some type a way. She stood quiet as she saw her brother left the cool whip on his cheek being focus into teaching her to make scoops of cookie dough.

Every now and then the four year old would give Gwen the side eye, this was a declaration of war. Hobie stood quiet, too. He didn't like how Gwen sometimes plays too rough or too much with his Sunflower, and he knows Miles wouldn't mind. Yet, the punker never like rough play something about seeing his boyfriend getting hurt gets him enrage.

"Awe, you upset lil Boo." Ganke said out loud noticing the little girl quiet giving that serious Mr. Morales look. Crazy how much of resemblance she had on her dad. The way Miles look a lot like his mom.

Miles chuckles as he wipes off the cream off his cheek with a wet rag, "Awe, boo-boo. It's okay. Me and Gwen were playing." He wasn't one to play as much as Gwen.

Billies said nothing but side eye at Gwen again, she had her lips puckered with a serious look on her face. Hobie burst out laughing seeing her pissed off as him. Pavtri teased, "Ohhh, Gwen. You made her mad-mad."

"What? What did I do?" Gwen laughs it off, she knows Billie is protective of her brother. No one would expect what's gonna happen.

When everyone finished making their dessert leaving them to take a break. Gwen lay on the L shape part of the couch while texting her other friends and being on her Socials.

Hobie talking to Miles in the kitchen being a bit close with his hands apart holding the counter, sounding a bit flirty. The Black latino chuckles with his arms wrapping around his punker as the two kiss.

Ganke and Pavtri playing video games and talking about the lore of the game. Little Billie was by her dolls and small table for coloring, she saw her chance to get pay back. The four year old sneaky crouch toward Gwen's without being noticed from the two men play video games, her brown eyes saw some blond and colorful dye hair.

Billie took her chance to get pay back for her big brother, she grab a fistful of Gwen's hair and yanking it. "OW! Ahh, Billie!" Gwen felt a sharp yank on her head, her blue eyes saw Billie grabbing her hair.

"AH! NO!" Billie huffs, she jumps back seeing her brother's friend trying to get her to let go. The rest of her friends noticed.

Miles quickly turns to find his little sister yanking his best friend's hair. "Boo-Boo?"

"Ow, Billie!" Gwen got up seeing that was one way for the little girl to let go, yet it didn't stop Billie from throwing hands. The little girl's tiny fist hitting the blond woman's thigh and legs, then she climbs on her to fight. "What's with you?" Those punches didn't hurt Gwen, in fact it felt like pats and it made her laugh a bit.

Pavtri laughs, "She's picking a fight with you? What did you do to her?"

"NOTHING!" She said out loud being in shock that her friend put the blame on her. Gwen grab the little girl having to pull her away from her, Billie kept throwing her punches on her hands.

"No-no! MMM!" Billie whines having to use all her energy to fight Gwen.

"I dunno she seems pretty mad." Ganke winced at the little girl.

Miles quickly went over to get his little sister, "Boo! Billie Mariana Morales! What's gotten into you? Oye, escúchame, niña!" Using a firm voice while speaking Spanish, sometimes his little sister understands Spanish more than English. He hugs her trying to calm her down seeing how she's furious she is.

"Ella te golpeó, hermano!" Billie struggles from her brother's hands still wanting to fight, "Venganza!!!" She throw her fist in the air.

"What did she say?" Pavtri asked.

Gwen fixing her hair putting into a messy bun, "Yeah!"

"She said revenge, and she thinks you hit me with the whip cream." Miles couldn't help but let out a snicker, seeing how cute his little sister is willing to protect him.

"Ohhh! Opp, so she wanted payback?" Gwen asked with her hand on her hips, "But I didn't hit you."

Billie huffs, "Hmph! No toques a mi hermano!" Her hands cupping her brother's face being protective then crossing her arms, "Nonono!"

Pavtri rub his chin, "I guess if it was innocent or not, she doesn't like it."

"Well, Billie never like anyone picking on Miles, so this shouldn't be a surprise." Ganke pointed out.

Hobie stood quiet through the whole thing, he went to stand next to his Sunflower. "Still... Billie, don't pull Gwen's hair. She means no harm, and no fighting or I have to tell mamí you were misbehaving." Miles lecture his little sister.'

"Pero... Pero..." Billie sniffs with big tears forming already sad for upsetting her brother. She did what she thought was fair.

"Ehh, let her off of this one. I get it. She loves you too much." Gwen shrugs it off, "Besides it didn't hurt me."

"Still... she needs to know it's not right." Miles hugs his sister, "Billie Boo, it's okay. Don't cry. I know you're a good girl." Wiping her tears away with his right hand.

Billie sniffs feeling bum out, her brown eyes landed on Hobie who gave her a sincere smile. "You git me?" She asked the punker.

"Yes, luv." Seeing how Billie wanted him to hold her, the punker took her in his arms and gave a solitary smile. "You did an excellent job, lil Boo."

"Hobie!" Miles pouted but seeing Billie sad face turning super happy made him slide it off. Little Billie proudly nodded at Hobie.

"Yeah! She hu-wt Miles!"

"I know." Hobie gave her thumb ups, "Good job for getting yer lick back!"

"YEAH!" Billie said in a loud cheer tone.

Gwen snorted, "It was like a pinch."

"Shh, Gwen! Little Billie don't play." Pavtri said out loud.

Ganke nodded, "Yeah, now you want her to pull your hair again?"

"No..." The blond woman answered.

Miles began scolding his boyfriend for allow Billie to be okay with this behavior. Everyone knows to never mess with Miles if his sister is around. Who knows what she'll do? Hobie and Billie had a close friendship whenever it comes to Miles, they have the need to protect him. They never understood why.

The little girl happily learns a few moves from Hobie, she can't wait to try it on any enemy near her brother.

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #across the spider verse

[prettyflyshyguy]

Happy April 1st, I have no new joke but here's a really good old one.

Buckle up.

Alright. Can't remember if I posted much about this before, but at my old job I produced this videogame. It was pretty cool!! It was set in the future, you're a super soldier who piloted remote robot drones called Espire.

(Violent little robot Sooty, my beloved. The shotgun pump in the trailer is still my favorite bit.)

I had my fingers in just about every pie that made up this game, and it was extremely cool getting to work with the team. April fools rolled around, game hadn't released just yet, we were finalising into the certification phase.

Every friday we had something called 'demo friday' where the team would show off something they worked on that week and we'd celebrate. It was charming to let everyone have a chance to show off their contributions, from every department in the company. I never really showed off anything because the spreadsheets I worked with, everyone already saw cause I would run around showing people every day as part of my job.

So on this fatefull, April 1st Friday, I asked to show the team something special. I pulled up a powerpoint presentation and add-libbed a new game concept pitch.

I pitched Espire to Love, a robot dating simulator, to a room full of 25 odd videogame developers.

Now as you may or may not have noticed, I don't often dabble in romance as a genre. I've barely touched dating sims and I'd never mentioned them before at work.

"From Dreamy daddies to anime girls, KFC's the colonel and even dinosaurs, there's an incredible range of options in the dating sim genre" I said with a straight face infront of a room full of people who were crying with laughter. I was barely holding myself together.

No one was prepared for the fake screenshots.

Still remember how hard some of them laughed when I pulled these slides up. I packed a lot of in-jokes into these that I won't explain - I wanted this to hit hard and hit home for the people I'd spent two + years working with.

People loved it, I made my friends laugh, it was good. And then upon being told "Hey you should send this to the publisher!"

That's exactly what I did.

The response from our assigned reps at Tripwire (YES, THAT TRIPWIRE) said they loved it, and they too were asking themselves the question "why not!" the whole way through.

But this story doesn't end there, oh no.

Fast forward a year. The game is released, we're hectic busy working on post release content, I'm cooking up the next stage of the joke.

Unfortunately, it never came to fruition due to time and stress. But here's what it was going to be:

We'd had our community clammoring for merch - so I wanted to pitch something bold, new and exciting, and the kind of thing that'd make us stand out.

Body pillows.

Would have been incredible. Might've made someone faint.

The robots were called Bean and Sooty during development so yes. I was going to deadass say "The bean bag and the sooty sack" (I mean what I say)

Unfortunately I didn't make it in time, and then double unfortunately, I lost my job when the studio had to significantly downsize.

But that never stops me from posting a good bit. You all know I'm a committed freak.

Fast forward a bit more and I'm trying to learn how to make my own games! So I download RenPy since it's a good starting point. It's designed more for VN's, so to find my feet I figured I should make as VN right?

I didn't want to make to make new assets, as the point was me learning to code. What to do..... what to do....

Full circle babeeeeyyyyy

And that's where we're at today! Long post I know, but I'm real proud of this joke. I love a good laugh that hits you at home, that's just honest fun. Huge shoutout to my old co-workers for listening to my original presentation, their laughter filled my heart and I was fucking terrified at the time, it was worth the joke.

It became a running gag in the office - we were playing Jackbox for a work party and it was one of those question and submitted answer games, and without any input from me the team had made the question "What would the for the sequel to Espire to Love be?"

and the options were "Espire to Live" and "Espire to death"

Anyway, I hope you only have charming and well considered April fools jokes today - designed for you to laugh at as much as the person making the joke. That's the best joke. Peace out.

#my art #long post #happy April fools everyone! Look at how fucking intense I am about this #a good april fools is crafted and considered and designed to make YOU laugh as the 'victim' #and I stand by that I used to fucking HATE april fools #and then I realised its cause people were too cruel rather then trying to make others laugh as much as themselves #Youtube

[yourbestpalpercy]

Have another thingy from school!

Alright, I have…a weird couple of characters. I can’t even explain why I love these characters so much. So, to start: Pal Percy from Playtime with Percy. I want you to be prepared for this dummy. When I say Pal Percy, you probably think of a friendly little guy, right? A little buddy, a little friend, just a tiny little pal. Well, tiny and little are a few ways to explain one of my favorite characters. Now, he has a very pitchy and bit crushed voice that you’d hear from a kid’s toy. Okay, now we’re getting closer to this little guy. His voice is like a kid’s toy! Like a Leapfrog branded thing, how sweet…! He was designed to be your best friend. He’s a small toy that’s designed to be your best friend. He’s similar to a Tamagotchi so he can’t be dangerous at all. He’s just a little guy like Flowey from Undertale or Wheatly from Portal 2. Fun fact, that’s where his character came from!

Okay, now allow me to show you an image of our little buddy we’ve made^^! I made the words bigger so you have no true idea.

Okay, back to normal text. Wh-What do you mean he’s completely insane and is obsessed with being ‘Your Best Pal’ to the point where he’ll kill you if you deny him-? Not only that, he’s made creatures, has wires, is parasitic (a word that has lost all meaning for me because of the obsessive tamagotchi), and has taken over a large animatronic for his bossfight!

Now onto his little buddies! The TamaTerrorz ♥ ️ ✨. These little buggers are absolutely adorable. This isn’t a fakeout. I genuinely adore these tiny creatures. They’re aggressive in game but practically everyone in the Playtime with Percy fandom has fully agreed that these creatures would be adorable beans if Pal wasn’t controlling them. There’s 4 in total (5 if you count TamaMunchi despite him being an easter egg). I like them all. I actually have a list!

TamaBruti

TamaLanki

TamaRoachi

TamaMunchi

TamaOpti

And I’ll list my reasons after photos!

TamaBruti: I really like how silly TamaBruti looks with his extremely dilated eyes. I cannot take him seriously like that. TamaBruti represents the arms (Known as TamaBruti_Arms… in the fake credits before the fight). He’s also the living definition of a brute. The way he gets to you? Simple, he punches down the walls and enters your room like he’s the Kool Aid Man. Hence why I gave him the nickname: ‘TamaKoolAid’. Also, all of his models look extremely derpy. Ruined-Cade after you defend yourself from him? He sits down on the table and contemplates his decisions. Broken Storage? He’s just staring at the camera without a single thought behind his eyes. Gnawed Playroom? He is observing the hallway at a 45 degree angle. Does it make any more sense at that angle, bud?

TamaLanki: I just like his design. He lives up to his name; he’s lanky. I think of him as being rather violent and I think he screeches a lot when he doesn’t get his way. Some people hc him as trans because of the character on his screen (mouth?), who is a girl and I think that’s super cool. He is the body (TamaLanki_Body… in the fake credits). TamaLanki is super cool in my opinion. Also, they’re your ticket out and away from Pal Percy as he is connected to the power and you need to complete his minigames to electrocute Pal. So, naturally, TamaLanki is in your office at all times of the boss fight. If you ignore them, unlike Pal (IN THE EARLIER NIGHTS), he’ll just kill you. I think he’s pretty neat.

TamaRoachi: I don’t have a big paragraph to give about these bugs. I like them solely because I heard one of their funky noises and they sounded like a rabid bulldog. I thought this was funny and grew attached to these Roachies. They are in the false credits as TamaRoachi_Legs… that’s it!

TamaMunchi: This one isn’t even in the boss fight. He can appear in the custom night for the bossfight though. Only the custom night though. He doesn’t have a thing in the false credits but looking at concept art has him labeled as ‘Jaws’, which…yeah, he definitely has no doubt. I’m pretty sure everyone just agrees that TamaMunchi is dog-like and I really like this idea. Admittedly, I thought they looked more like a mouse at first. My eyes have opened though and Munchi is clearly a puppy doggo. Someone even added them into Minecraft and I have decided to switch Roachi and Munchi around

TamaOpti: …They’re…just neat. I honestly have no opinions on Opti (Sorry Opti Fans!!). They’re the smartest of the TamaTerrorz and I headcanon that they take control as the leader if Pal isn’t present. I also can’t give a big ol paragraph to this guy. They just exist to me. I like their design. Here, they’re labeled as TamaOpti_Eye in the fake credits. I apologize to the Opti fans again. I can’t tell a lot about this guy.

And that’s it! I have said everything! Mreh!

#playtime with percy #school assignment #i had to write about my favorite characters #and why #by the way

[astudyincontrasts]

A Kiss With A Fist  Chapter 11

Silco x Fem!Reader (SFW)

Synopsis: Lore faithful, reader insert as OC, set in the time skip between act 1&2 of the show.  Now fully plotted but started as pwp, no ragerts, Reader is a sex worker wearing out her welcome when Babette sends her to Silco as a gift.

Author’s Note: This chapter dedicated both to @abitohoney and @sherwood-forests , the two sweetest beans who have kept on loving this story and being kind, supportive friends even though my attention strayed from it for so long.  And thank you for the patience of all the readers while I focused on other projects.  It’s still going to be slow going here but I’m determined to see this one through.

TW:  Abduction, angst, torture, forced drug use, eye horror

"It's ...a key."

"As ever, your powers of observation are impeccable."

Silco did not look up from the book he had open, underlining a passage of note and marking a page.  He read a lot you'd come to realize.  Books constantly littering his desk and office in piles of disarray.  He had no respect for the things, but that wasn't unusual.  Actually quite in keeping with so much of what you'd learned of his mannerisms.

Sat there, perched on the edge of his desk, waiting to give him the usual injection, instead of pulling open his desk drawer and setting the brass injection device in your hand instead he’d surprised you with a little red lacquered box, the stylized violent slashes of his own eye design upon its lid in gleaming gold.  

Some bauble you'd assumed, pleased that he'd want to gift you some little decoration of jewelry.  Something to wear with as much delight as you took in the marks he left on you.  Instead within lay a little brass key.  Not even a chain attached to indicate it some manner of symbolic gesture.

His sarcasm earned him a cool stare from you over the lid of the box, and the kind of weighted silence he hated.  Had him finish his research and flip the book closed with one fine finger to look up at you, expression almost businesslike as he laced hands loosely, elbows upon the desk.

"I'm afraid if we'd like to carry on, our situation needs to change."

That didn't sound great, opened a cold and yawning pit in your stomach as you set the box back upon his desk.  Mismatched eyes tracked your relinquishment of the gift.  Lingered on the little box as he continued.

"I cannot keep being seen at Babette's.  It speaks of favoritism and makes things… vulnerable.  It's also not terribly safe for you."

Gaze flicked up to catch your own and hold.  Forcing you to swallow a half formed retort already at the back of your tongue. Fine fingers plucked the little box back up and set it in your hands once more, and of all things, he offered you the slow curl of a half-tilt smile, as if he were amused with himself at his offer.

"I believe it's called keeping a mistress.  Though I'm not sure how that term applies to the unmarried." He said quietly. Seemed to ebb in his delight as your silence stretched too long.

Your life had been a gilded cage since you’d met him, many fine things once out of reach now entirely possible.  Yet you hadn’t strained toward them or sought them out, simply accepted what came with the territory and treated yourself to a wardrobe befitting someone whose company he paid to enjoy.  A wardrobe you knew he’d appreciate, nothing else.  

You’d committed to being, as he’d put it so many months ago, his creature.  And accepted the golden bars surrounding you; the bodyguard escort, the mark it left on you, the way it had separated you from your peers at Babette’s or downstairs in the Drop.  The way your time belonged to him and not yourself, to all of it.  Accepted it gladly and delved in deeper.  But the door to that cage had always been open, or so it felt.

Now it was like you’d stepped on a spring trigger and the grate of the cage had come crashing down.  Paradise flipped in an instant to a suffocating enclosure.  His mistress?  His kept thing.  Irrational panic closed the walls of your throat tight and the future flashed like photographic negatives across your mind’s eye.  

Locked away in some apartment alone waiting on him.  Days of domestic boredom stretching into months, years?  No freedom, no privacy, no ability to just pack up and go with no one to answer to.  Well, the ever present guard at your door had seen to the start of the end of that freedom anyhow, hadn’t it?  

And what would happen when he was bored of you at last, as all men became?  What then, when he had no more to take and you had nothing new left to give, or he found a new plaything, someone fresher to bend and break for his hand?  Out on the street, with youth used up and his mark still on you, no one willing to touch his leftovers with a ten foot pole, lest they risk his anger…  or worse perhaps, simply left there, alone, in empty, silent, cold comfort to succumb to your own bitterness and loss.  To be left behind like an abandoned pet in an empty home.

 Pet.

His derogatory little nickname chafed at the edges of your mind.  Just a little pet, kept in a little golden cage somewhere high and safe until the novelty wore off.

Your hands were shaking visibly as you stared down at them, and not even closing fingers tightly on the little box stopped the tremor.  Lungs refused to draw even a quarter capacity the air you knew they could, head starting a slow, hot spin even as you shook it slowly.

“No.”

It was barely a whisper of a word but you watched it stiffen every line of him in your periphery.

“What?”  Silco’s tone soured to sharp, though he attempted to keep the blade of it safe behind the fisted velvet glove of his voice.

Eyes turned up slowly from your shaking hands to him and you could feel the blood draining from your face as you stared back at him.

“I said no.”

It would strike you later that it was not a word you’d used with him before, not like this.  But now, in this instant, rational thought and detached observation were distant memories.  You were living heartbeat to hard thudding heartbeat as it drummed behind the burn of your brain and the wide of your eyes.

“I don’t… I don’t want to be kept.  Like some, some princess locked in a little tower all safe from the world.  I don’t even want your stupid meathead guards, you think I want to be squirreled away in some place somewhere all alone?  No.  No!”  

Like a dam breaking, the words started at a trickle and soon increased to a rushing flood, a tidal pouring drench that you couldn’t stop even as you heard your insulting tone and cringed, the agony of your own rude sharpness only making you more angry, more vicious, like there was nothing for it but to descend into the mire the second one foot got caught in its sucking pull.  

Sat back in his chair, Silco looked for a moment like you’d struck him before that dark thundercloud descended upon his expression, a livid and barely leashed rage rocking him forward as he planted a hand on the arm of his chair in a white knuckle grip, the other balled to a taut fist upon one knee.

“This was a gift -”  

Not even the harshness of his snarl through the clench of gritted chipped teeth was enough to stop your spiral or plug the terrible rush of all the horrifying words that came spilling out of you as you jumped from your seat on the desk, your own fists balled tight, the edges of that little box biting into the grip of one palm.

“A gift?!  Only you could keep taking and taking and call it a gift!  I don’t want your ivory tower, I don’t want your illusions of safety, I don’t want  your leash or your chains, I don’t want your money and pretty things.  I don’t want to be told what to do and where to go and when to speak and sit and sleep and eat and what to think.  I belong to me!  To myself! ”

Your hand stung with how hard you slapped the box back on his desk.

He glowered up at you.

“No one has ever said otherwise.”  Tone like a high tensile wire ready to snap under the strain, to cut free and whip violently in any and every direction at once.  “If that’s how you feel then leave .”

“Gladly.”  You spat back, and rounded the desk, your heart a hard stone caught in the sinking mud clogging your chest, a dull angry ache radiating outward so every hard pounding of it felt like a deep, stabbing pain.  Heat pricked at your eyes and all of it made you blind with bitter anger; the only familiar outlet to all these uncomfortable, unfamiliar and awful feelings.  You slammed the door as hard as you were physically capable of doing and stormed out of the Drop.

Fuck whatever idiot guard had to try to keep pace.

Back in your room at Babettes you stood there, shaking, recalling the last fit of anger that had caused you to do violence to your own things.  That had been his fault as well.  It took everything in you right now not to start smashing furniture into matchsticks.  

I believe it's called keeping a mistress.

You turned and put your fist straight into the wall.

Your knuckles were still screaming later when you pulled open the door to Babette’s inner sanctum.

The elderly yordle, though to be fair they all looked ancient no matter what their inestimable age, sat behind her desk wreathed in the smoke of the near finished cigarette dangling from the end of her silly long filter holder.  Two of your fellow workers sat lounging and drinking, enjoying the end of their shifts on both of her tufted velvet couches, so similar to the one in Silco’s office, if a bit more ostentatious and luridly red.

Babette took one look at your face and plunked two little bags of coins on her desk, tipping out her waiting girls.

“Give us the room, darlings.”  She took a breathlessly long drag on the last of her cigarette, watching you intently.

Both girls climbed to their feet, grabbed their shares and hustled out past you as you rocked a shoulder back to allow them by before shutting the door behind yourself.  Babette gestured to the seat before her desk and lit a fresh cigarette.  Not for the first time you wondered how many years off an impossible lifespan chain smoking could skim away.  The yordle regarded you with weary, rheumy eyes under all that garishly thick blue eyeshadow and summoned a puckered smile.

“What did you need, my dear?”

“My contract is over.”

Babette choked on her inhalation of more of that putridly thick smoke.  Not spiced and scented and fine tobacco like those cigars Silco preferred, but gutterweed tobacco, cheap and harsh and cloying in thick layers to every surface of her office in a nicotine yellowing haze.  She coughed, eyes watering as she gogged at you.

“Wh- what?”

“My contract.  It's done.  I’ll go back on the line tomorrow night.”  

She stared at you like you’d sprouted a second head and a few extra limbs to boot, blinking slowly as she hacked out the last of her coughing fit.

“I don’t understand.  We had everything ready to help you move out-”

That angry pounding in your brain doubled in tempo as you leaned forward in a sudden, sharp lurch.

“Are you… are you telling me you knew Silco was going to ask me to leave ?  And you were just… fine with that?  What did he do, come here and ask your blessing like you’re my parents?  How could you…  And you just agreed??”

You thought you were angry before.  Now you were seeing red, breath coming in hard, uneven, fast little jags, nails cutting into your palms and the knuckles you’d put through drywall oozing blood between clenched digits.  Head felt fit to explode, a wordless shard of a scream stuck cutting the inside of your throat.

The fact that everyone but you seemed to be conspiring to move you about like a little pawn on a chessboard or trade you like a slab of inanimate meat at market had you reeling in your rage.  Babette stared down your obvious fury, unflustered, those large eyes of hers narrowing slightly.

“Of course I agreed.  Don’t take this the wrong way, my dear, but did you leave your brains in the nightstand again?”

You bared teeth at her, feeling ready to split from all the fury squeezing you in ever shrinking tight bands.

“ What ?”

“Yes Silco let me know he intended to ask you to leave.  You’re my employee.  Are you telling me you spent all this time around him and didn’t pick up an ounce of knowledge about good business practice?”  She huffed a rasping, coughing little laugh and cast you an up and down appraisal in derision.  Utterly unimpressed with the cauldron of murderous anger you were currently simmering in.

“And I’m assuming instead of taking the best opportunity you’ll ever get to leave this life behind you threw his generosity back in his face?  I wish I could say I was disappointed in you, but that would mean I had expectations to begin with.”

Her words stung like a slap come across your mouth knuckles first.

“You always were your own worst enemy, kid.”  She sighed, dropping her gaze and attention back to her ledgers, giving you a little wave of her tiny lacquered nailed fingers in dismissal.  “You want to go back to selling yourself to whoever comes through the door?  Fine.  But our last conversation still stands:  One foot out of place, one single hair harmed on any customer that didn’t explicitly ask for such a service and you’re out.”

She glanced up toward the ceiling, considering for a moment, before she leveled that tired gaze at you once more and smiled unhappily.  

“Perhaps you should go ahead and pack the boxes we got for you anyhow.  We both know you’ll never be able to keep that promise.”

Stomach tied in hot knots and mind a livid blank, you rose and kicked the chair you sat in against the near wall before stomping out, Babette’s dry, mirthless little hacking laugh following you out the door.

No guard awaited you at your door when you returned, come to think of it none had been stood out there when you’d left to speak with Babette, either, but you were in too much of a snit at the time to notice.  Miraculous that in the ten fold grip of a full on tantrum you were able to register it now.  Well, good.  Fine.  You’d kicked the golden bars of your cage open and good riddance.

The longing to take your unfocused rage out on something, anything was coming in hot waves.  But if you were going to start working again tomorrow as you’d told Babette, you couldn’t afford to trash the place you’d need to do it in.  The salon had seen better days anyhow.  You’d let it slide into a comfortable, relaxed abode instead of the sultry parlor it should have been kept as.  Let it become your little private apartment where none of the frou-frou trappings of all the pretty fantasy rooms needed to matter.

Well, you’d fix that up tomorrow.  It felt a good enough use of the surplus of funds Silco had lined your pockets with.  You’d give yourself your own posh little bower and fuck whomever you liked in it, thank you.  You practically ripped the lovely outfit off you’d put on for him tonight and crawled into bed, suffering your anger in silence only to find the pillow smelled like him.  The sharp, unbidden urge to grab it and pull it close had you chucking it across the room as well as kicking the sheets and covers to the foot of the bed.  

Finding no irony at all in laying there cold and uncomfortable, you chased sleep that refused to come as each argument that evening replayed itself over and over again in worse and worse spirals.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

It left you exhausted and cranky the next morning, with a crick in your neck and a bitter stomach, but laying there being miserable wasn’t going to get you anywhere.  You climbed up and into clothes, grabbed your bag and as much coin as it felt safe to carry in one trip, along with your little knife.  In the bathroom you scowled at the little remnants of him left behind that confronted you.  His toothbrush, toiletries, straight razor.  You ought to have tossed them all into the trash, instead you yanked open a drawer and scooped them within, slammed the drawer shut hard.  You could toss all his stuff later, you told yourself.  Along with clothes he’d left there and anything else of his.

Back out in your bedroom you paused to grab your small knife off the nightstand and stopped.  Jinx’s little get well card that you’d framed sat there, staring up at you with its lurid colored little face and scribbled bright blue hair.  

Memory came back as unwelcome as a ghost.  

Sevika watching over you, having carried you home, and then never mentioning it again or looking for even so much as a thank you.  

Silco’s warm weight denting the bed, curled protectively around your broken body, blood on his hands.  For you.  

The little card, evidence he’d been so enraged and concerned even his kid knew something bad had happened to you.  And he’d brought it here, set it by your bed.

Made love to you like your face hadn’t been ruined with a black eye and swollen, split lip. Like you mattered more than your pretty.

No.  No, fuck it.  It was going in the trash with everything else when you got back.  

But you’d never had a get well card before.

Never had anyone who cared if you lived or died or survived the day.

Well, you’d never had it before so you’d get by just fine without it again.  

You slapped the framed card face down, laced up boots and left for the markets.

A thick, dark coffee and a pastry at one of the food stalls made a world of difference for your disposition, though didn’t do much for the persistent dull headache that stretched back across your scalp, the slow throb of it mirror to the ache you were steadfastly ignoring within your core.  An empty, hollow feeling to the pit of your stomach that you were determined to pay no mind to.

Instead you filled the void with shopping; picking out new trinkets and toys, new drapes to soften the ceilings and walls of your salon and multicolored crystal lamps to hang that would create a soft, seductive illumination and throw shards of color wherever the light pierced them.  Fresh sheets and a multitude of pillows to create an inviting nest of the bed.  Silken rope for restraints, because why not?  Lovely incense and an entire crate of candles, all ordered, packed and carted back to Babette’s by a few of the vendors’ helpful lackeys.

A new perfume was just what you needed next, and then perhaps some different outfits or lingerie.

The perfumer’s shop was tucked just on the edge of a crossway alley corner and the main strip of marketplace, ostentatious yet peeling yellow paint coating its facade, large glass windows decorated around their outset with frosted etching and leaded panes that curled and twined into various flowers evocative of the scents held within all the gorgeous little stoppered blown glass bottles within that lined the shelves like little jewels in an array of glittering colors, sizes and shapes.

The wizened old man at the counter ignored your presence save for a bored and sedate little nod of his head upon your entrance, though you felt the weight of his rheumy gaze track your unhurried progress around the room periodically as you sniffed the occasional bottle stopper curiously.

He waited until you were running out of options and clearly torn between two fragrances, neither of which you terribly preferred, to point toward the hallway past his counter.

“More choices in the back.”  He croaked.  “If you don’t like the blends there’s simple essence ones back there as well.”

Considering the two bottles in your hands and deciding neither suited you, you set both down and ducked through the sheer silk curtain dividing the front rooms from the further ones down the hall.  

You made it just through the doorway of the first room to open up to your right when a hand clapped over the lower half of your face and one strong arm barred itself around your middle, pinning arms in tightly.  

The shock of it had you inhale sharply, nearly sucking into your mouth the soft cloth that hand was mashing to your face.

The skin around your nostrils and mouth burned, and eyes watered. Sweetness flooded your senses, a pungent sweetness like fresh cut grass or greens.  The world swam as you kicked legs to stay afloat, everything heavy, so heavy.  Each limb and both eyelids weighted leaden, head rolling fit to snap on a neck that suddenly felt far too fine and brittle for its weight.

Then nothing.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

The cold woke you like a slap.

Gasping, dripping, blinking blearing drops of water from your eyes as you sputtered and sucked air.  Drowning?  No.  Firm floor under your feet.  Hard chair under your bottom.

Sensation and rational thought both came back slow, trying to build on shifting sands and sort out reality and the still humming, heavy buzz of that dreamless black void you’d just been yanked from.

Seated, yes.  Arms ached and the attempt to move them proved that pain due to being tied down, quite tightly, with little to no concern for circulation.  Fingers prickling at their tips as you worked them to get blood flow.  Another rope tight around the base of your throat and one across your forehead.  Another coiled round your midsection, stopping you filling lungs to full capacity.  And all the ropes curiously padded from full contact against your skin, lined with cloth or towels to prevent them biting into flesh or leaving more than faint bruises.

Water you’d been so rudely awakened with dripped off your nose and chin and eyelashes, down your throat and soaked the neckline of your shirt, making it cling uncomfortably to damp skin prickling with the chill.  

It was dark and the air was dank, even for the undercity standards, like a sub-basement with no circulation.  

Blinking in the dim light, a group of men came into focus; a semi-circle of perhaps ten or more before you, clustered randomly about the central point of one particular man sat comfortably in finery that could only belong to one of the Barons.  He was an older man, with a neatly kept goatee and thinly connected mustache gone white, opulently outfitted with a brilliantly yellow coat draped over his shoulders, with dark, cresting shoulder padding that added substantial bulk to his lithe frame, its studded black lapels disinviting the notion of touch.  Thinning, snow white hair was swept back in a severe ponytail that ran long down his back, and he watched you from the deeply crinkled, hooded amusement of dark, elongated, narrow eyes set over the warm copper cheekbones of his aging face.

His demeanor was far more relaxed than those around him, particularly the youngest man who stood beside him.  A boy still clearly in his teens with chill pale eyes that glared at you unblinking, both hands curled into fists at his sides, something vaguely familiar clenched half hidden in the grasp of one of his hands.  He grinned coldly as he watched your attention fall on the thing he held.

“So.  You’re Silco’s plaything.”  The older man began, the dry observation for some reason earning a tittering of unpleasant laughter from the gathered lot.  Fuck.

“No…” You repressed that natural inclination toward sass, but barely.  Hard not to let a certain irritation show at being unceremoniously abducted, knocked out, and tied up.  Still that ‘no’ drew out a bit patronizingly and the old man cocked a thinning brow.

“No?  You are a well known piece of decor in his office.  And while I would not put it past Silco to only keep such living art around as a hobby or an offering to his guests… I highly doubt he’d then make regular visits to that same glorified footstool at the brothel where she lives.  Or provide her a near constant escort.”

Well, he had you there.  Almost.

Mouth tightened in a hateful little grin back at him.

“Did you see my escort today?”

It didn’t even give him a moment’s pause.  He merely shrugged shoulders under the swallowing drape of that imposing, brilliant jacket.

“No.  A very fortunate stroke of luck for us.”

“Not all that fortunate.  I don’t know what you want, but I can make some guesses.  If the first name out of your mouth is Silco’s, and you think I’m ransomable or that hurting me will get to him, you’re wrong.  You didn’t see an escort because I’m not employed by him anymore.  Sorry.”

The young man stepped forward sharply and cracked his hand in an opened palm slap across your face that should have wrenched your head to the side, were you not affixed to the chair as you were.  

Apparently that had been a little too much sass creeping into your belittling tone.

The old man sucked his teeth and shot an unappreciative glance up at the boy as he returned to his side.  Cursing under his breath in a language you did not speak that heavily accented both their voices, the young man spat vitriol at you and the old man chided him in return.  

“I said no damage that might show, did I not, Finn?”  The old man asked hotly, staccato of his tone sharpening.

“Yes, grandfather.”

The old man sighed and turned back to you with an ironically apologetic lift and drop of his brows.  Kids, huh?  Whatcha gonna do.

You glared back, unimpressed, cheek and the corner of your mouth stinging harshly.

“You left his employment?  Or he dismissed you from it?”  He asked, slowly, carefully, in a way that suggested that there was a right way and a very wrong way to answer those questions. “Margot seemed quite convinced he’d never let you go, but I’d rather hear the truth of it from your own mouth.”

The exhalation of breath left you slow as you set your jaw stubbornly.  This was stupid.  They were stupid.  Only the profoundly stupid would attempt to use a working girl to get to someone like Silco, for whatever their ends might be.  And fucking Margot.  Of course she’d happily give you up as a little pawn to be played.  Bitch.  You were done with this.  You weren’t his creature any more and they could like it or lump it, same as him.

The old man looked more tired at your digging your heels in and stoic silence than he had at his grandson’s outburst.  

“I take it you’ve seen one of these before?”  He held open a palm lazily and Finn placed the object he’d been holding into it.  A very familiar brass object, with its little trigger and long guard to the open end.  It was slightly rougher looking than Silco’s injector, perhaps an early prototype or an unskilled reproduction.  

The swallow you made worked against the rope that ran across your throat.

The old man smiled grimly and toyed with the brass contraption, turning it over in careful fingers.

“You look quite healthy, if you don’t mind me saying so.”  He observed.  “I don’t imagine you’ve ever joined your, ah, boss?  In his addiction?  How ironic that so many of your fellow professionals have quite a taste for it and he’d pick one who didn’t partake in his stock and trade.  Not that I’d stoop to accusing Silco of getting high off his own supply, mind you.”

He handed the injector back to Finn and you watched the boy’s fingers curl tightly around the barrel of the thing as his pale glare stayed fixed on you.

“Did Silco ever give you a tour of one of his factories?  Show you his labs?  Was he ever kind enough to give you a post-coital lesson in the varieties of that lovely purple drug that’s put him on the top of the heap down here?”

You had it in you to continue to refuse to answer, but it felt a bit pointless, especially with the way that kid was eyeing you. And so you shook your head, insomuch as the ropes allowed.  No.

“Ah.  Well.  What he takes isn’t exactly what he ships out across the trenches.  There’s quite a few subtle varieties, all good for different things.  The least refined make excellent monsters out of good men.  A touch more refinement and a bit of clever proprietary mixing makes a wonderfully heady drug, and so on into medical research, healing properties or analgesics.  His good doctor really is quite a genius.  Terribly dangerous, as most men with a dream are”.

Said with the exhausted gravitas of a man toiling within the machinations of his own dreams.

“Suffice it to say the manner of product Silco enjoys is difficult to get ahold of at best.  You’ll have to forgive that we were unable to acquire it.  What’s in that little device will have to suffice instead.  At least for our purposes.”

He gave Finn a little nod and the boy grinned sickly as he stalked toward you again.  The chair you were lashed to was solid, heavy, and immune to your struggles against it.  His thumb dug into your upper eyelid, peeling it up and back as he settled the cage of that brass device over your eye.  Bile rose in your throat as the inherent urge to struggle waged war against the knowledge that if you were moving when the plunger of the needle came down you well could be blinded.

You barely caught the tightening of his fingers upon the trigger before the searing heat pierced your eye down to its core.  Half of vision cut out in a blinding purple shock as the shimmer burst through the gelatinous membrane and flooded fine veins that fed straight to brain matter.  The world dialed down to a pinprick before it exploded violently.  Every emotion a rage, every muscle a rictus of agony, the noise of the world a deafening, unceasing, clashing roar.

It lasted perhaps thirty seconds, but felt like a week.

The chokehold grip of the drug released suddenly, like being dropped unceremoniously back into the puddle of your own pathetic existence, leaving you wrung out, weak and shaking uncontrollably.

“Hmn.  Perhaps a bit harsher than we were led to believe.” The old man observed as you struggled to fit the bits of yourself back together again, terrified to open your eyes, terrified that you’d find the vision in the one injected permanently gone.  

He waited for you to come around, waited until you worked up the nerve to blink eyes open and adjust to the fact that yes, you still had full vision, even if it felt like the injected eye had been salted, set on fire, and was now full of wasps.  He smiled mock kindness at you and rested his chin upon folded hands.

“Now then.  Which was it?  You left, or you were dismissed?”

Which was it?  He had dismissed you but it had been your choice, hadn’t it?  So hard to think, to set pieces straight, hard enough to know what lines went where with Silco anyhow.  No, no.  It had been your choice.  This, or rather, that had been your doing.

“Left.”  You croaked.  Throat felt like you’d walked several hundred miles through a desert wasteland.

“Oh good.”  The old man replied, almost gleefully, if such a term could be used with his staid and respectable demeanor.  “In which case, tomorrow, when you are recovered, you will return to his employment.  By whatever means necessary.  Do I make myself understood?”

Another self-important man telling you what to do.  

Teeth grit as you glared across at him, hawked back whatever little precious moisture still clung in your throat and spat.  It sailed in a neat little arc that landed well short of his feet.

Finn was already stepping toward you again and the panic that welled up played second fiddle to all the hot rage that boiled within.  You had a temper, yes, but this was something animalistic, something primal and insatiable and dangerous.

He came within reach and you kicked out.  The bastards hadn’t tied your legs down.

You got him, right in the balls, and hard.  He crumpled like a house of cards with a sickly wheezing sound that gave you no end of hateful joy.  

Out you kicked again and that little brass injector went flying.  All around you the other men were in a state of chaos, some scrambling for the injector others unsure what to do.  

One more kick, this one a rounding arc, and you’d leveled the young fucker.  He lay on his side at your feet gasping, hands clenched between his thighs upon the crotch you’d punted straight up into his pelvis.  It should have been enough, but you couldn’t stop.  Couldn’t stop that eruption of blinding violence that had nowhere to go but out.  Down to the only limbs that were free.

His jaw made a sickening crunch with the very first hard stomp of your boot heel.

The boy himself made a noise caught halfway between a broken steam whistle and a strangled cat.  

They’d managed to get him out from under your feet by the third stomp, two men dragging him off and away until the noises he made vanished into the surrounding dark.  The old man was glaring at you, all semblance of cordial warmth washed clean off that wizened face.  He nodded and two of the others, careful to approach from the side, closed in on you.

Again, and again, and again.  That little plunger of the needle came down.

Not in your eye this time, thank fuck, but that only spared the horror of fear.  It did nothing for the pain, the sickness, the disgusting inhuman sensation of the fleeting high or the overwhelming nausea welling in the pit of your twisting stomach.

They took their time about it.  Waiting for each wave to pass before subjecting you to it again. Found new, fresh skin to inject each round.  Leaving nothing behind but a miniscule little pinprick that would be invisible the second the small beading of blood dried and flaked away.

No marks, no evidence.

You were reeling by the time the old man held his hand up.  Weak and retching, tears streaming cold down your face and as plentiful as the glass of water they’d tossed on you earlier. Your fingers and toes felt broken in the intensity of their uncontrollable constriction, air a harsh gasping fire in the unwelcoming vacuum of lungs.

A small, quiet part of your brain wondered if they’d kill you now.  Hoped for it.  Surely the nothing of being dead was better than this agony.  

“Can you speak?”  The old man asked, patience returning to the timbre of his voice.

You gaped like a fish at him, mouth working to no effect.

“Ah well.  But you can listen.  And if you do not want to remain here… or find yourself back here again like this, you will listen.”  He watched you writhe in your misery, eyes rolled up toward the ceiling as you shivered from the marrow of bones and quick of teeth on out to the burning surface of skin caught cold fire.  “Nod.”

You nodded frantically against the ropes, swiveling gaze back on him.

“I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings here.  And while we have regrettably gotten off on a bad foot- “  He paused to smirk at his own turn of phrase, gaze drifting to the very boot that had pulped his grandson’s pretty face, “I’d like our partnership to be an amicable one.”

You huffed a breath he took for laughter and he smiled generously at your pathetic gogging.

“I bear no ill will toward your employer.  Far from it.  I think he’s doing an admirable job organizing the undercity.  But.  He is consolidating an alarming amount of power.  Such a thing is never good under just one man.  Inevitably something happens to them, control is as much a drug as that purple poison running through your veins right now and just as corrupting.  Silco plays his cards far too close to his chest for my liking.  And while every hand he’s dealt to myself and the other Barons have been terribly generous, there may come a time when that well runs dry.”

He glanced down, examining the cleanliness of his nails, picking at a spot lodged beneath one as he continued and you struggled to keep a grip on his meandering train of thought and your own slipshod sanity.

“All I want is information.  You are in a unique enough position to provide that, along with whatever other little insights you might glean.  You have access to him, his paperwork, his office, his conversations and meetings, and of course whatever he might let slip while in the pleasure of your…”  Dark eyes glanced up, cast you up and down disparagingly, “charms.”

He rose, resettled the jacket on his shoulders with a finicky little shrug.

“Do this, and live.  Do it well and I’ll pay you handsomely.  If you do not, then I can hardly see the value in keeping you around.  It would be better if you tell me now if you plan to reneg on this agreement.  I will make the end quick.”

He caught your eye once more and all that easy cheer evaporated like a fine mist.

“It will not be quick if you lie to me or choose to reneg later.  Do you understand?”

Slowly, you forced the muscles cramping in your neck to work a single nod.  Exhausting.

“Good.  Then, we have a deal?”

Another excruciating nod.

“A pleasure doing business with you, Miss.”  He dipped his own head in a deferential little nod back and turned to go, pausing only to address the pair of men still standing, waiting at either side of your chair.

“Knock her out.  Leave her somewhere she’s less likely to be accosted.  She can figure out how to make her own way home after what she did to my grandson.”

The stifling sweet burn on the rag held over mouth and nose was a welcome balm as the dark  nothing slipped in over the agony, drowning it in lapping, deep, black waves.

Tags List: @illegalcerebral @basichextechml @imalovernotahater @eriseffigy @sukurachiidee @go-flow-bro​ @velvetviolet​ @marvel-fangurl3000​ @nickiinator​ @somethingthatsaysbubbles​  @peonysink​ @lackofhonor​ @avid-main, @ironandglass​  If you don’t want to be on this tags list or want to be added just let me know in the notes or drop me an ask

#silco #silco x reader #silcoxreader #silco fic #arcane fic #AKWAF

[8107raptcustode]

So, let's go over my and my alters' Helluva/Hazbin inserts

Note: this is running under @nottapossum 's au to a large extent

Further note: given the day, I feel I must clarify this is *not* a joke post, aright? 100% seriousness here.

Running under them all having been distinct souls stuck inhabiting the same body in life. Still bound together in death via chains similar to the ones from deals, but at least they have distinct bodies now. All the chains really do is make it so they can't actually sell their souls. Not one has control over the others.

🐍👢 Vincent(Me!): Is a sinner with the appearance of a melanistic sidewinder (or desert horned viper as it's also known.)

He is in large part a snake regressor (60% easy) with most of the remaining percentage being little, and some traces of caregiver and guardian in there.

Favorite foods: raw veggies with buttermilk ranch, milk with barley powder, chilli, baked beans, and fruit smoothies

Takes a bit of a Western/farmboy aesthetic both in and out of headspace. In headspace it's taken up to 11, but even out of it he's rarely seen not wearing a plaid shirt, leather duster, and stetson hat. Talks the part too, having grown up in Texas almost his entire childhood.

He does occasionally work with Carmilla, testing weapons for accuracy, balance, ease of use, etc. Finds he's a better judge with firearms.

Very much a musician at heart. Often heard singing old folk songs and gunslinger ballads softly to himself. His singing voice is rich and sweet, but still requires practice to properly hit notes.

🦂🌼 Aster is 80% guardian, 18% caretaker, 2% neutral.

He's a sinner that takes the appearance of a South African deathstalker scorpion, with the ability to shoot venom from his tail included. He will spray involuntarily if sufficiently startled, but the venom is heavily diluted even with a direct sting and at most makes the victim really tired, burns a bit like peroxide if it touches a mucous membrane like the mouth or eyes. He's actually used it to sedate some of the others when they start getting panicky or excessively violent.

He speaks with a Middle English dialect, but don't be fooled, it's just an affectation. Sometimes the fact he has chelicerae in place of a normal mouth does make speaking difficult.

He does have pedipalps with slender claws. They sprout from between his shoulder blades like wings and are held above his shoulders when he feels there's a threat, otherwise he tucks them neatly behind his back. He'll hold them off to the sides if carrying anything with them. Besides those he has two pairs of normal arms, one of which he keeps folded over his midsection when not in use, and two pairs of legs.

He does have bad hips and occasionally requires a cane to get around comfortably.

In terms of fashion choices, he tends to lean toward a Victorian style. Button vest, lace-fly pants, cloaked tailcoat, long leather boots, and tricorne hat

Very much a bread and meat enthusiast when it comes to food, and has the gut to show it. If he's cooking it's all but guaranteed to be a roast, a meat stew, or a grilled cut/patty dish.

Before coming to the Hotel he spent most of his time in the Cannibal Colony. While he didn't get the opportunity in life, he did wish to try something more "exotic" to say the least. Helped run a butchery there for some time, left when the butcher ran afoul of Alastor. Doesn't have much rapport with Rosie, being relatively new to the colony overall, but does have a crush on her nonetheless.

Note: Do not try to shorten his name, and do not call him "Daisy." Assuming he's familiar with you he will cease speaking with you until he gets an apology. If unfamiliar you will be torn apart and eaten. An exception is made for sign language as the signs for "Daisy" and "Aster" are the same unless fingerspelled.

Like Vin he is very much a musical type, his voice being just a bit deeper, but also more rough and gravelly. Primarily he focuses on love songs, chain gang songs, and sea shanties.

🕸🤘 Rhiannon: 98% caregiver, 2% guardian

Takes the form of a regal jumping spider. She does have fanged chelicerae at the corners of her mouth that fold over her upper lip and pedipalps that sprout from her lower mandible, but her venom is not significant and even if she were to bite (which would never happen unless she was protecting someone) it wouldn't have much effect beyond a slight blister and rash around the area.

Speaks with a slight Midwestern US accent, and her voice is usually bright and cheery.

Fashion-wise she tends to just stick with a t-shirt and pants or shorts with a loose fit.

Like Aster she has two sets of arms and two sets of legs, but she doesn't keep either set of arms folded, choosing to let them rest on her hips or hang at her sides most of the time.

Favorite foods are pasta bolognese, eggplant parmesan, and fried dill pickles.

She'll answer to "Rhi" or "RhiRhi"

Worked as a bartender in Club Kaiju for a bit, but found that she really just couldn't keep up with the size of the patrons. Still on good terms with Missy Zilla, though.

Not as musically inclined as the others, but does find herself tapping along to a random beat a lot of the time.

🐙💡 Isaac: 87% neutral, 13% caregiver

Looks a mindflayer with a blue-ringed octopus pattern, 5 tentacles hanging around his mouth. Can change colors to blend in somewhat, but the rings turn much brighter when excited, agitated, or frightened. Also sprays noxious ink when startled, though there's not any range on it, so the most that happens is he needs to change clothes and/or clean the floor under him. Can also summon tentacles from most surfaces and has some psychic influence to be able to calm people very slightly on touch.

He's *extremely* skinny. Unhealthily so. He deals with regular major depressive episodes that make him not have any appetite.

His favorite food, when he can stomach it, is crab rangoon, but he'll at least try to eat pretty much any seafood if given to him regardless of his appetite.

He doesn't really speak that much if at all. Finds writing and sign language to be easier, especially with the tentacles in the way.

Does do occasional work for Valentino, being able to summon tentacles has its uses in that industry, after all. And thus does have some relation with Angel Dust, albeit limited.

Like the rest he has musical inclinations. His longer, spindly fingers make it easier to play guitar, bass, harp, and piano.

🦈🐺 Gareth: 50% shark regressor, 50% little. Permaregressor as well.

Smallest of the bunch, he stands just a head over Niffty. Takes the form of a spurdog with a cerulean skin tone, complete with a venomous barb in front of his dorsal fins that causes extreme pain and swelling. Almost always wearing a specialized harness set so he doesn't accidentally prick anyone.

Besides his harness, he's usually wearing only a pair of jeans or shorts. Shirts press on the dorsal fin between his shoulders too much.

He was bounced around between the caregivers in the group based on who was the least busy at the time. There was one incident where Valentino pissed him off enough to try and bite a chunk out of him, but the other overlords he's met he got on fine with. Except Alastor, who seemed to only begrudgingly tolerate his presence. (He's a shark regressor, so major dog vibes) And especially Vox, who seemed to absolutely light up, both figuratively and literally, on meeting him.

Doesn't talk much, because he can usually get his point across just fine without words. Does bark and whine like a puppy. And when he does speak his speech patterns are somewhat robotic, unless he's quoting a spoken line, then he'll match the candor of the original speaker.

Favorite foods: jambalaya, black pudding, sweet potatoes, and fried mushrooms with ranch.

And, like the others, he likes to play music. Ocarina and tin/low whistle are his favorite instruments, and so long as he can play a song on either he's happy to do so.

#regression #pet regression #Shark regressor #Snake regressor #Caregiver #Caretaker #Guardian #Little!Hazbins #self insert #Alters #OSDD

[shitpostingkats]

8 and 18 for the YGO ask meme? P.S. Helloooooo ^.^

8. Favorite antagonist/villain

You know? Shoutouts to Brron! He doesn't get enough love. I really love his design and they way he's animated in the show, this sort of creaky dusty mummy that doesn't have any bones and joints in all the Wrong places.

18. A random headcanon

Ooh I can't narrow it down to just one so I'll do some for each series I've seen.

DM: Atem is stupid nearsighted and this is why he does the squinty squinty whenever he takes over. This is really impressive because he's the one who actually passed the drivers test for Yugi (Yugi's a fine driver, he just couldn't get through the exam without having a panic attack) and to this day no one knows how he did it because the man is coke-bottle-glasses-blind and needs help crossing the street most days. Yes, this means Yugi has technically driving illegally his entire life. No, he doesn't feel one bit bad about it.

GX: Listen to me. I am looking directly in your face. Tyranno Hassleberry would be an amazing principal/chancellor of duel academy. He's a friendly leader type who loves learning and being in charge of rowdy hooligans. He effortlessly takes command of the student body like three times in the series. He's weird and fun and would be utterly beloved by his students because yeah he talks like a retired army colonel but he also goes off on hours long tangents on the cretaceous period and lets any student who wants avoid going home over the holidays tag along on his archeology digs and/or camping trips. He seems to be friends with the entire work force of pro duelists and duel historians and duel physicists and regularly invites them to the island to give presentations. I know Shepard set the bar low but Tyranno Hassleberry is going to raise it.

5Ds: I haven't posted any art of it, but I like to draw Yusei with tattoos! He gets a new one for every person that's important to him, so he has a full sleeve on his right arm (though his tattoo for Martha is right over the scar on his stomach) and even gets the dragon head inked back on after the end of the series. Also as stated previously I fully believe in my heart of hearts that Carly Carmine is a lesbian. And I believe with certainty that she should go on a date with Stephanie (the server from blue eyes coffee). Stephanie opens up her own little queer coffee shop called "Les Bean" or smth and Carly becomes a full on investigative reporter who keeps getting in trouble with the cops because she and her six foot tall emotional support himbo investigate leads by picking fights with violent criminals and there's really nothing anyone can do about it.

Zexal: I haven't finished with the series yet but I am full to bursting with headcanons for what astral world is like and if the show wants to contradict me it is welcome to try. I think astral world is completely underwater and filled with bioluminescence and weird deep sea creatures. Everything is floaty and sways in the currents and an astral's hair is like the fronds of a sea anemone and it is customary/fashionable to have schools of fish swimming around in it. Some astrals decorate their bodies with coral and plants and are floating ecosystems. There's a good deal of Societal Value attached to how many creatures you are in symbiosis with. Astral himself doesn't know exactly why he feels so grief stricken when he sees Yuma fiddle with the beads in his hair, or feels so lonely when he looks in an aquarium, but he's working on it, and as far as he's got Yuma, then he's not alone at all :)

#I've gone in to depth on my favorite villains in each part in my part breakdowns so yeah shoutouts to Brron #GX season 3 really is such a specific brand of body horror #this kinda turned in headcanon central whoops #answered asks #ask game #yugioh dm #yugioh gx #yugioh 5ds #yugioh zexal

[autisticempathydaemon]

in a sky full of stars (I think I see you)

Chapter One: Le hors-d'œuvre

tags: Lasko/OC, nb!empathy daemon OC who uses they/them pronouns, background Freelancer/Gavin, mentions of disordered eating and unhealthy relationship dynamics in later chapters

It's the classic story of boy meets girl... except "girl" is more of a genderless being of pure empathy magic and "boy" is the sweet air elemental professor who literally doesn't know they exist.

There is a curated playlist for this fic for your listening pleasure!

Also available to read on AO3 Next chapter ->

For the longest time, Bee’s absolute favorite thing on Elegy was its food.

Sure, as an empathy daemon, Bee loves and depends on the people, the things they feel. Happiness and light and positivity are Bee’s bread and butter, so to speak; they don’t need human food to live.

Joy just doesn’t linger on the tongue like the savory saltiness of aged cheese. Giddiness doesn’t pucker the mouth in sour glee like a Meyer lemon. Even contentment doesn’t warm the body quite like fresh hot chocolate. If Bee is sustained by meals of optimism and pride and kindness, they live for the gorgeous things mortals make as dessert.

Excitement followed by freshly-picked strawberries. Happiness and then lavender tea. Wonder with a chaser of vanilla milkshakes. It’s a pleasant way to spend an immortal life.

One remarkable day in an unremarkable eternity, this day, Bee learns there’s more to life than “pleasant.” 

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

‘Iced, Lizzie- that drink is supposed to be iced,’ Bee says in a subliminal whisper. The redheaded barista stops and looks down at her hands. ‘Cold. You grabbed the wrong cup.’ With a blink and a little shake of the head, Lizzie puts down the ceramic mug and reaches for a glass.  

‘Right, right, cold. Get your head in the game, she thinks violently, glaring down at the espresso machine as if it was at fault for her mistake. Hovering in the air next to her, Bee can sense that isn’t true, can taste her bitter, acrid headache like coffee beans roasted in a volcano. With faith, trust, pixie dust, and a smidgen of healing magic, Bee takes away her pain and savors the honeyed, mellow relief she radiates instead. 

“One double shot Americano for Lasko!” she calls out, stepping aside to the pick up counter. “Sorry, that was supposed to be over ice, right?” Distracted by a service dog and its flavorless delight, Bee is all the more struck breathless when they get a taste of ambrosial, cotton candy contentment.

“Th- that’s right, thank you!” The raven-haired boy- man? Angel? Gift from Min’Ara?- says with a stutter and a smile that spreads across rosy, freckled cheeks. When he takes a sip of his drink, humming happily, his bliss drowns their senses in a flood of delicious, indescribable sensation. Bee thinks they taste cloying honey, fragrant pandan, rich chocolate, and heady liquor whipped together into a singular dish. It’s an overstimulating, overwhelming rush that has the empathy daemon figuratively and literally spinning. 

Lasko’s emotions sated them like a god’s banquet, could keep them fed for a fortnight, and he hasn’t even moved. When the man heads back toward his table, that jolt of joy settled into muted comfort, Bee can’t help but follow, drifting towards him like he is the sun and they are the earth, like he’s the moon and they’re the obedient tides. 

Sat down behind a laptop and a bevy of papers, dressed in scholarly browns and whites, Lasko Moore is unassuming, nondescript, and somehow wondrously, enchantingly beautiful. He’s a wallflower, and Bee has never felt more like their namesake- bewitched, blushing, bumbling- as they take their place in the seat across from him.

Author's Note: Please enjoy my first foray into a longer form, chaptered fic for RedactedAudio! Bee has been in the works for months (hence the url), and I just really wanted to give Lasko a partner goshdangit

Loving mention for @romirola who was lovely and sweet and darling enough to give Bee a cameo in her masterpiece, Packed with Love, which you should check out if you would like to see more of them or would like to read something magnificent~

#redactedasmr #redacted asmr #redactedaudio #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted #redacted fanfiction #redacted lasko #redacted oc #nb!OC #busybee writes

[lakanakana]

tag 9 people you want to get to know better!

I was tagged by: the sexy beast @thatlittledandere

Currently reading: a couple of manga I have on my anilist “reading” and “paused” lists, my faves being Otoyomegatari / The Bride Stories (a slice of life story about Central Asian women and their lives centering around marriage and chores etc and IT’S GOOD IDK HOW BUT IT IS AND I AM GAY FOR EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM and I know that like only 2 of them might be queer but still. I am having less bean thoughts for them) and Tongari Boushi no Atelier / Witch Hat Atelier (a fantasy story about a girl finding out that witches cast their magic just by drawing runes - yet they keep this a secret from the general populace - and she’s about to start a shitshow about it from the looks of it)

Favorite color: ourple.......

Last song: not counting the song on Dandere’s post, it’s Nu Shooz - I Can't Wait bc I’m obsessed with the shitty cgi in that vid and also the lady looks so 80s that I’m starting to bite my lip. She would probably drop and flop like a fish on dry land if she time travelled to the present day.

Last movie: Moeru Butsuzou Ningen / The Burning Buddha Man which was... uh. and experience. I watched it bc an acquaintance said that it’s his fave movie. Basically some girl’s parents get violently murdered right in front of her eyes by some Buddha statue and she goes into the fucking afterlife or something for revenge, only to slowly become a Buddha statue(?) herself.

Currently working on: fan art piece that I’ll be posting when the stars align. Fr I started it before christmas (I think?) and then just forgot about it bc it was harder than I expected and also I had to finish my courses, work on a coding project and most of all my mom was hospitalized somewhere around the new year’s eve and she passed away last week which has just halted my ability to even properly take care of myself or my apartment tbh. Yesterday I had a random inspiration to tidy up my room so that you could see the floor and idk I’m taking my time to recover.

for tagging I’ll pick the last 9 people from my notes >:3c @manillaroad @pajunkissa @flyinginanimeheaven @solemnrosary @mas-arte @moltenmountain @wizardchampion @stunks (i know that your Thing™ is like cute little animals but this is what you get for interacting with me) @parsakaalimato

[acertainmoshke]

Now that I have a LITTLE more time, care to tell me a little about "Fae and Brownie Draft 4 (JMR edit)" from the WIP Files game? <3

It's been a while so here a link to your post LINK

Oh, thanks! It has been a while and this is my most recent ask/mention but it's the easiest to answer right now (I will get to reblogging/doing all those heads up 7 up games I promise).

So, Fae and Brownie is actually done. It needs a better title but it is all written and I used my tax refund to have it professionally edited (JMR are the initials of the lady I hired). I actually originally planned to make it a series like Ivy and Bean, so every subsequent book would be "Fae and Brownie do X," but now I think it will be a standalone. Unlike basically everything else I write, it is not SFF but a realistic middle grade kids' book.

To go into a little more detail than I did in my intro post, Fae is 10 years old and autistic and ataxic (a physical balance/coordination disability that I have a variation of) and the ONLY kid at school to be nice to her is the new kid, Brownie (who may or may not have ADHD, you decide). Then Fae promptly gets in trouble for a semi-violent meltdown when she's pushed too far and is suspended for a week. She has one fabulous day free of school, and then her parents drop it on her that the aunt she hasn't seen in years is getting divorced and moving in with them. Aunt Lillian doesn't get along with her sibling-in-law, Fae's parent she calls Kiki, for political reasons Fae doesn't really understand.

To put off the inevitable struggle with change, Fae is allowed to go to a sleepover at Brownie's house the first night Aunt Lillian shows up, which leads to a week of adventure, friendship, accommodations, and realizing that even adults might need to learn some things.

This is one of my favorite excerpts:

Now Ms. Luna is on the floor in front of me, bent down like adults do to when they talk to little kids. Not 10-year-old kids, except they still do it to me. Mama says that if I stand up tall and smile and talk to people using the big words I do at home, they won’t think I’m like a little kid. I think she doesn’t understand school.

“Fae, we’re going to work on spelling worksheets. Can you come back to your desk, please?”

Ms. Luna doesn’t look angry. She doesn’t look sad. She doesn’t look anything. But I’m still scared to say no, because that can get me in trouble sometimes.

“Fae, come on. I know you like spelling, and I need you to participate, ok?”

I wonder if teachers ever get annoyed when they’re stuck with the really weird kids.

She won’t go away until I use words, so I say, slowly and carefully, “I want to stay here.”

“I know, but you’ve been here for over fifteen minutes and you can’t miss a whole lesson or you won’t know the words for Friday’s quiz.”

I’m tired. It’s been a long day. I peek over her shoulder and all the other kids are looking at me. Their eyes feel like lasers. I want to go home. And suddenly I’m angry, because it’s not fair. It’s not fair that I’m supposed to do as well as everyone else even though the world hurts me and not them. It’s not fair that people still talk to me like I’m in kindergarten. And it’s not fair that they always look at me like I’m a puzzle or a slug and not a person.

I hate being angry. My anger is red and liquid and fills me up until it overflows. I scream without meaning to. I want to scream “I hate you,” but the words are stuck in my throat, and that makes me even more angry. I know better than to throw things, but all I want is to do what I’m not supposed to. I want Ms. Luna to hurt like I do.

I was going to make a separate post for this later this week, but since this gives me the perfect chance to do it: I am looking for beta readers. It needs new title suggestions and some feedback on plot and flow, but shouldn't have any glaring holes or grammar issues. I'd be happy to do a beta swap if someone prefers. My only requests are that you have some interest in reading children's literature and see this as a disability empowerment story and not one about her learning to "be good" (a disclaimer I always include now after a really weird comment I got the first time I tried to move towards publishing this story).

#thank you SO much for asking about this! #gave me a chance to talk about it #it was a bit of a fluke when I needed to get some disability feels out amid college in the pandemic #but then it turned out kind of good #moshke writes #writeblr #fae and brownie #looking for beta readers

[everysongineverykey]

Prove it! Sing it right now without checking.

WOAH! if it isn't a LIGHT-NER! HEY H-H-HEY HEY! LOOKS LIKE YOU'RE all alone on a late night? ALL YOUR FRIENDS, Abandoned you for the slime YOU ARE? SALES, GONE DOWN THE [[drain! drain!]]? LIVING IN A GODD*MN GARBAGE CAN?? NYAHAHAHAHA! FRIEND, EITHER YOU'RE CLOSING YOUR EYES TO [Savings!] YOU DO NOT WISH TO ACKNOWLEDGE, OR YOU ARE NOT AWARE OF THE CALIBRE OF [Discounts!] INDICATED BY THE PRESENCE OF A [HeartShapedObject] IN YOUR COMMUNITY!

HEY, KID, LOOK AT YOU! RIGHT TIME! RIGHT PLACE! RIIIIPE FOR THE PICKING!RIGHT MONEY IN YOUR POCKET YOU'RE SO LUCKY VERY LUCKY OH SO VERY VERY LUCKY THAT YOU GET TO BE INVESTING IN THIS VERY SPECIAL PRODUCT FROM EVERYBODY'S FAVORITE numberoneratedsalesman! CIRCA1997 MIGHTY PROUD TO SAY IT! MIIIGHTY PROUD TO SAY IT YES I'M MIGHTYPROUDTOSAYIT YES SIR!

DON'TCHA WANNA HAVE A LITTLE FUN LITTLE SPONGE LITTLE SOMETHING TO PLUCK YOU FROM THE GLUM HUMDRUM LIVE COMFORTABLY (CAPITAL AT RISK) YUM YUM! LISTEN UP FORTHEOFFERONLYCOMESJUSTONCE HEY CHUM! I CAN SEE YOU'RE HAVING VIOLENT THOUGHTS BUT DON'TCHA WANNA WANNA BE A BE A BIG SHOT! INQUIRE TODAY WHILE THE SECRET'S IN STOCK! ALL YA GOTTA DO IS [[Hyperlink Blocked]]...

I used to be nothing but the e-mail guy, now i'm the [[IT BURNS! OW! STOP! STOP! HELP ME! IT BURNS!]] guy! NYAHAHAHAHA We've got never bettered bargains we've got deals you won't believe we can tell you what you want before you realize what you need if you'll pardon us the jargon here's our Darkner guarantee we take cash or card or credit but we'll take your heart for free...

ARE YOU FEELING DOWN? HAVE YOU LOST CONTROL? IS YOUR LIFE A MESS? DO YOUR FRIENDS DESPISE YOU? WELL HERE'S one weird trick discovered by a mom! and i'm sure NUMBER FIVE WILL SURPRISE YOU! ALL YOU'VE EVER DREAMED OF, SHINING, GLISTENING, GOTTA BUCKLE UP, GRAB LIFE BY THE [Silly Strings!] YOU CAN HAVE IT YOU CAN HAVE IT SAY THE WORD IT'S YOURS- NYAHAHA! i wasn't listening :]

see it says just here right here last year on the third of the fourth at five-oh-six you searchedcatpicsonline well that's just fine! ~Moist Delicious Cookies~ little tippy tap kitty catalyst now we have a list and we'll guess what every habit is:

wanna buy a cat flap, cat food, catchup, catamaran you'll be categorically catatonic at the catalogue of categories i have at my hands [A cavalcade of all your favorite brands!] AN ADVERTISM SCHISM CATACLYSM [Cash on demand!] YOU'D BETTER CANCEL YOUR PLANS! CASH FOR THE CRACKERS AND THE PICKLES AND THE FLYPAPER WANNA BUY A CAT PLUSH PLUSH TOY TOY BOX BOX WINE WHY WON'T MIKE JUST CALL ME BACK-GAMMON HAMANDEGGS EGG CHAIR CHAIR BED BED BATH BATH SPONGE SPONGE WHO HATES HIS FOURDOLLARNINETYNINE LIFE-BOAT BOAT SHOE SHOE STRING STRING BEAN BEAN BAG BAGPIPE PIPE BOMB BOMBER JACKET JACKDAW DOORSTOP STOP NO PLEASE DON'T TAKE MY FURNITURE- STOPWATCH WATCHDOG DOG COLLAR COLORADO ADDERAL ADS ARE ALL SEEPING PING PONG PONCHOS CHOKE CHAINS CHAINSAWS SWORDFISH SHISH-KEBAB BOBCAT- DO YOU WANT A CAT OR NOT???

WELL YOU WANNA BE A BIG SHOT DON'T YOU? DON'T YOU WANNA BE THE NEXTBIGTHING! YOU CAN DO IT YES IT'S TRUE IT'S REALLY TRUE THERE'S NOTHING TO IT I CAN PROVE IT HEAR THE REGISTERS RING! RING RING RING RING RING RING RING RING RING-

YOU'RE KIDDING. IT'S FOR YOU.

Wanna know a secret...?

[[Hyperlink Blocked]]

YOU TOO CAN HAVE A Communion! WITH NYAYAHAHAAA! SOON I'LL EVEN SURPASS THAT DAMNED [[ClownAroundTown!]]

We've got never bettered bargains we've got deals you won't believe we can tell you what you want before you realize what you need if you'll pardon us the jargon here's our Darkner guarantee we take cash or card or credit but we'll take your heart for freeeee-

HOLY CUNGADERO THERE YOU FUNKY LITTLE WORM YOU SEEM UNAWARE OF ALL THE MONEY YOU COULD EARN IF YOU WANNA GET THE GOLD WELL THERE IS STUFF YOU GOTTA LEARN MILK THE HUMANS OF THEIR KINDNESS THEN THERE'S BUTTER TO BE CHURNED, YOU WANT. IT. NEED. IT. DON'T. YOU. SEE? BUUUT IF YA WANNA MAKE YOUR SCREEN GREEN, YOU'RE GONNA NEED MY KROMER KEY-

AND WE GOT TROUBLE, MY FRIEND WHADDAYA TALK RIGHT HERE IN CYBER CITY! SEE I USED TO BE A [Top-notch!] [Big Shot!] BEST DEALS! BEST WHEELS! BEST [Best prices in the tri-state area!] BUT YOU CAN GET IT BACK! NYAHAHA YES YOU CAN! ALL YA GOTTA DO IS FOLLOW THROUGH MY [[Twelve-step plan!]] BIGGER, BIGGER, BETTER LIKE THE TELEPHONE WAS TELLING MEYOU GOTTA KNOW THE TERRITORY! SPEND A HAND, LEND A GRAND-

WHO'S GONNA PATRONIZE AN ITTY BITTY TWO-BY-FOUR KINDA STORE ANYMORE? GOTTA GO! GOTTA GET! GOTTA GET ON AND GO! MAKE A DEAL! [[Big deal!]] [[High score!]] OUR STORE IS CLOSINGHOT TIP DROP SHIPPING FOUR THREE TWO ONE NOT SKIPPING OFFERS WIRED INTO YOUR INBOX SWING BY THE GIFT SHOP THINK OF THE [[Big shot!]] ALL THIS AND MORE, CLICK [[Hyperlink Blocked]]

...can anyone hear me? help...

...mike...

...mike?

hahah!

We've got never bettered bargains we've got deals you won't believe we can tell you what you want before you realize what you need if you'll pardon us the jargon here's our Darkner guarantee we take cash or card or credit but we'll take your heart for freeeee-

[[INSURANCE!]] KNOW THAT I'M THE BESTINPOLICY! HONESTLY! DO YA WANNA END IN POVERTY? BUDDY I'M THE ONE TO HELP INVEST IT PROPERLY! I'M HERE TO TALK ABOUT EXTENDED WARRANTY!!! IT'S A SUPER BUMPER LIQUIDATOR LAST CHANCE FIRST DAY HALF PRICE FIRE SALE LIKE NEVER BEFORE! WHEN IT'S THERE TO EXPLORE! WHEN YOU STEP IN THE DOOR THE VERY MODEL OF A MODERN MAJOR GENERAL STORE-

ButTheFactIsEverybody'sGottaHaveItGottaHaveItThosWhoHaveItReallyHaveItIfYouHaven'tWellYou'veHadItCouldn'tHackItNowTheHaven'tsHaven'tHadItAndTheHavesAreVeryGladIt'sJustTheHaven'tsThatAreLackingWhatThey'reHaving! NOW THE ADS HAVE GOT THE TRAFFIC AND WE'VE GRABBED YOUR DEMOGRAPHIC SO YOU'RE PACKING UP YOUR BASKET CAUSE YOUR DAD HAS GOTTA HAVE IT (He'll be sad if you don't wrap it with a tag! It'll be tragic!) SO YOU'RE MANICALLY GRABBING AT THE SHELVES AMID THE PANIC, SEEMS THAT EVERYBODY HAS IT, MAN, YOU REALLY GOTTA HAVE IT, SO YOU GET IT, YOU'RE ECSTATIC, BUT A CRACKLE IN THE STATIC AND THE IT IS OUT OF FASHION, JUST A FAD, A PIECE OF PLASTIC, SO YOU TRASH IT AND YOU GET BACK IN YOUR CAR CAUSE YOU DON'T HAVE IT AndTheFactIsEverybody'sGottaHaveItGottaHaveItThosWhoHaveItReallyHaveItIfYouHaven'tWellYou'veHadItCouldn'tHackItNowTheHaven'tsHaven'tHadItAndTheHavesAreVeryGladIt's, HOCHI MAMA, WHAT A MOUTHFUL!

IN THE ENCYCLOPEDIA OF Being afraid! THERE AIN'T NOTHING TO BE SCARED OF TIL THERE'S FEES TO BE PAID! THERE'S DEALS TO BE MADE WITH [[Seasonal Savings!]] REGIONAL RATINGS ARE LETHALLY FADING, SCREAMING AND RAVING, CEASELESS APPRAISING- Neat little plate with a needless engraving! LEGALLY GREY BUT SWEET WITH THE PHRASING, FEET IN THE GRAVE BUT GLEEFULLY TRADING!

FEEDING THE CRAVINGS, EAT, LITTLE PLAYTHING- Deals so good I'll $!#& myself! FEEDING THE CRAVINGS, EAT, LITTLE PLAYTHING- DOWN TO THE CRACKER BARREL, PICKLE BARREL, MILK PAN FEEDING THE CRAVINGS, EAT, LITTLE PLAYTHING- I can feel that Smooth Taste already! FEEDING THE CRAVINGS, EAT, LITTLE PLAYTHING...

[[Hyperlink Blocked]]

#drops dead #i realize you have only my word that i did not check while typing that. but this took me like a good ten to twenty minutes. #i would not lie to you

[shattered-catalyst]

In creating cat I strove to showcase traits and responses to trauma in teenagers: specifically young soldiers and trafficked youth (they were my focus in grad school) and how actually yeah it takes a lot to be around someone with so many non uwu traits

Hes frustrating. Emotionally constipated or emotionally fluid. He goes back and forth between what he wants constantly. He has shifting faces and identities he's never really letting anyone in IN and if he does it's questionable what he's doing/how much of which persona of his he's letting slip in. He cares in weird abnormal ways qnd even the -nice- things he does aren't done out of being nice they're done for survival purposes.

He's a complex little chameleon and I push his character a lot through ooc and ic and background stuff like his imaginary never seen counselor because I like having a muse that's dynamic and flip flops around a lot.

And I deeply appreciate the writing partners that allow me to hammer them with these traits because people are people and react to traumatic environments and experiences in ways that do not make them precious little beans

Cats a person who when he hurts he channels it by taking it out on other people or himself that's how he was raised and while he's learning other ways that's still ingrained.

Also Jealousy? Fucking huge. He gets so jealous so easily it's hilarious. It's comical. It's a problem. Green is his favorite color and it is very accurate.

I was thinking a lot about that yesterday for some reason and it gave me a good chuckle like yes definitely a type to zelf isolate and not talk to someone for weeks because he is mad or to be very verbally closed off in conversation.

He cannonically doesn't yell when angry , he doesn't like that and especially doesn't do anything violent towards people he isn't about to fight.

I feel like he collapses into self destruction because he cannot tolerate the somatic and emotional feelings the behaviors bring up

#me rambling about cat for an hour

[estarllita]

levi and/or jean 💛

Omg, i love your blog so much. Thank you 💛

Levi

First Impression: I literally went "ew, people think he's hot???". I was so confused why people liked this man.

Impression Now: I love this little mean bean so much. He is the one exception to my "I will only like someone if they are taller than me." rule. Season 3 Levi in that slutty grey shirt had me sweating 🥵

Favorite Moment: Kenny fight scene, hands down. Not only is it one of my favorite anime fights ever, Levi is gorgeous the entire fucking time.

Idea for a Story: I want a Levi x reader fic where levi is a secret billionaire, but hasn't told the reader. Like, they keep wondering why levi is able to take them to dinner every week if they are both broke ass college students, but levi is actually from a family of old money.

Unpopular Opinion: This is mostly about who people ship him with. I don't like LevixHange. It feels forced to me, but I know there is canon evidence for the ship too.

Favorite Relationship: Ooooo, I love this question, but I'm going to take it the shipping route. I love a good selfship. I'm a sucker for Eruri, but the AO3 fics for Ereri are soooo good. The Little Titan Cafe by pocketsizedtitan is a comfort fic for me.

Favorite Headcanon: I headcanon that Levi's love language is physical touch, but it also makes him very uncomfortable. He's been fighting his whole life so physical contact was alway in a violent manner, so once he finally falls in love with someone and they touch him he looses his shit a bit.

Jean

First Impression: I didn't hate him. He was fine when I first saw season 1. Honestly, he didn't make too much of an impression on me.

Impression Now: Oh how I love this man. Especially, post timeskip Jean. o m g. I'm dead. Not only is he a great character, but he is also. He's probably one of my favorite characters.

Favorite Moment: The funny moments with Jean always warm my heart, but I also love the moments when he realizes his strength as a leader. It's not really a a specific moment.

Idea for a Story: I'm craving a good slooooow burn jean x reader fic in a college au. I am also down for a domestic high school sweetheart going to university jean x reader fic. I need pain with the second one. I've been reading Respectfully, an Absolute Mess by Ercthesloth and o m g it's the best jean x reader fic i've read so far.

Unpopular Opinion: Post-timeskip jean is superior. fight me 🥵🥵🥵

Favorite Relationship: I'm gonna share my ships. idc. Jean x reader, obvi. I'm a sucker for jearmin and jean x marco.

Favorite Headcanon: Jean always has to be touching his partner. Always. His love language is physical touch- 100%. He also bitches like a baby as soon as he can't be touching them. "hold my hand" "babe, not right now." "hold. my. hand." "jean, no." *lightly grabs his partner's arm*

#estarllitaasks #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #levi ackerman #jean kirschtein #jean kirstein