#this bad boy can fit so much projection in it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

attonposting · 1 year

Text

Can we stop to talk about the conversation with Atton where he rambles about women and the idea of love? Because good lord can this man project like a movie theater. We're talking fractal projection. Give him a frickin' medal, because it's projection all the way down.

It's a very missable bit of dialogue. You can only get it with a male Exile, and only then if you've cheesed off Brianna by causing her influence to dip 30 points below Visas's. Unfortunately, this also causes Brianna to permanently stop talking to you, so this is something you're only ever gonna see by accident. I only learned that could even happen pretty recently, and that's with maybe 6 male Exile playthroughs under my belt. I guess I'm just very thorough about exhausting everyone's dialogue options all the time.

So. Brianna's permanently cut herself off as a companion, courtesy of Kreia whispering in her ear, and that sucks. But at least your trashman pilot has something to say about it... and whoa boy is it a consolation prize. Atton proceeds to launch into an arm-around-your-shoulders buddy talk that has exactly nothing to do with your problems and everything to do with his personal issues.

Exile: The Handmaiden lost her temper with me.

Atton: Oh, there's a surprise. Trust me, she's a handful - all warriors are. They're not used to dealing with things they can't punch, kick, or break. Look, I know how it is. Me, there's no denying that I'm a good-looking guy. You have it worse, because even though you might not be as good-looking as me, you have that whole tortured past, that command presence. Women want to save you. They think they can help you.

Exile: What are we talking about?

Atton: They think that everyone can be redeemed, and that they're the only ones who can do it. And you don't know if it's you, or the idea of you that they love.

Exile: [Awareness] Are we talking about me or you?

Atton: We're just talking. Like I said, I've never understood women. It's possible they don't love you at all. That they just want to help you... help you hear yourself if you've gone deaf to your own voice. We all lose our way sometimes, and we need someone to pull us back.

Exile: [Awareness] Sounds like you've had that experience before.

Atton: Don't remember. Truth is, I still don't listen to my conscience even when it's shouting. I think there's times I'd rather be completely deaf than hear it. But all this talk doesn't matter. I'm not qualified to give advice. Besides, when I open my mouth, I'm usually lying anyway.

Like. Just. Holy shit, Atton. Yeah, he's clearly talking about the Jedi who tried to save him, but there's so much more to unpack in here. Let's break it down.

“Women want to save you. They think they can help you.” - Atton wants to save you. He wants to be the hero to your story, something he projects at Mical (to the latter's confusion), but which can also be read into a lot of his actions – when he starts taunting the assassin on Telos to draw heat off you, when he runs out on Nar Shaddaa to give you medpacs and do the same thing with the bounty hunters. The hard evidence is on Malachor. If Atton dies, he says it outright: “Did I save you yet?” And if he falls to the Dark Side, he tells Mical that “he wanted to protect [the Exile], to help her” before he lost his chance.

“They think that everyone can be redeemed, and that they're the only ones who can do it.” - Yeah, it's not really about helping the Exile. Atton needs to be the one that 'saves' you, as a balm to his own lack of purpose and self-worth, and he gets real pissy if anyone else does a better job helping you – or god forbid gets close to you. He's constantly insecure, he's unhappy with most new party members when they join up and, and seriously, the only crime Mical ever committed was being a genuinely good dude in a crew full of misfits. Too bad the galaxy's greasiest pilot reads that as a threat.

“And you don't know if it's you, or the idea of you that they love.” - Atton's attraction to you in a nutshell, and that's before you get the question of Force Bonds involved. Like, seriously. Does he genuinely love you as a person, or is he in love with you as an ideal – as someone who could stop running and face the music for their unforgivable crimes, as someone who actually tries to fix the damage they did? As someone who can still find it in them to care about people after the war broke them down? As a Jedi that actually lives up to the ideal both the Council and Revan failed to? As someone he believes he can relate to, because he thinks he knows your reasons for what you did? Are you a stand-in for his dead Jedi and his hundred conflicting feelings over her? Is he just in love with the idea of having a purpose and wants someone he can bury himself in? Is the idea of martyring himself and finally dying for a reason what he's really obsessed with? Pick your flavor, because who knows! He certainly doesn't!

“It's possible they don't love you at all.” - While this has a lot to do with him wondering why the hell anyone would have tried to save him, I also think this is him reflecting on his own confused feelings towards the Exile. They might not be romantic with an M!Exile (or if they are, he's having intense bi denial), but they're absolutely there and he does not know what to make of them.

“That they just want to help you... help you hear yourself if you've gone deaf to your own voice. We all lose our way sometimes, and we need someone to pull us back.” - This has nothing to do with the Exile, the Handmaiden, or anyone who isn't an ex-Sith assassin who had empathy forcibly shoved into their brain after years of progressively more fucked-up descent into all-consuming hatred.

“Truth is, I still don't listen to my conscience even when it's shouting.” - He almost gets away with this one, but Atton's deep in denial here. He doesn't want to hear it, but he can't turn it off, the same way he can't stop feeling things when he used to have total control of his emotions (because he barely felt anything at all.) It's all why he can't go back to who he was, even though he badly misses the certainty he used to feel. Atton is a pro at ignoring his conscience, which definitely has nothing to do with how much he hates himself, total coincidence... but as soon as the Exile gets involved, that goes out the window, because Atton's self-preservation glitches out. Their Force wound tugs on his better nature... or it yanks at his opposite. And if that happens, Atton is very aware of what's happening to him. He succumbs, but he has more to say on the Exile's fall than anyone short of Kreia. And light or dark, his (im)moral compass gets jarred from 'cover my own ass' to 'protect the Exile' and he repeatedly sticks his neck out for no gain, so yeah, I call bullshit here. He's smack in the middle of his biggest crisis of conscience since the Sith.

“Besides, when I open my mouth, I'm usually lying anyway.” Well, at least he admits it.

#kotor ii #kotor 2 #atton rand #disaster man extraordinaire #slaps ribbed jacket #this bad boy can fit so much projection in it #you can also get atton to say she woke him up inside and i cannot possibly react to this in any other way than yelling evanescence lyrics #happy may the 4th!#have some highly specific analysis on a 19-year-old game

87 notes · View notes

scatterbrainedbot · 6 months

Text

I AM SPINNING I AM PACING I AM FULL ON FROLICKING IM SO EXCITED

@d1sc0rd1a THANK U FOR THESE TAGS

okayokayokayokay so pretty much all of these questions will be Officially Answered properly in the character design/intro pages im working on but also i am physically vibrating with excitement about the fact that you noticed all these details and i have very little self control so! lore dump time!!!

(minor tw for mentions of leos self-harm/self-destructive anxious behaviors and unhealthy coping skills)

- mikey does indeed have curly fur! i believe he would be considered a 'rex' rat (pictured on the left) for this trait? though the curls can be more easily seen on mice (pictured on the right). or, at least it seems that way. have not delved too deeply into the details of rodent genes and husbandry, but id assume its the same sort of mutation considering curly haired mice are also referred to as rex sometimes? either way hes a extra floofy bby 🧡

-as for raphie, unfortunately being more fluff and less shell than the average rapheal comes with its downsides. especially if you and your brothers occasionally encounter things like territorial dogs, hungry cats, or sewer crocodiles while exploring places ur dad said not supposed to go. (most of his scars will have more ninja related stories, but his ear i think got messed up from something very animal. probably around age 11 ish? old enough to sneak out from dads protection but young enough to not fully know how to handle himself alone against real danger. thankfully his ear injury looks worse than it actually is for the most part, as the damage was largely to the outer ear. his hearing wasnt super affected, except that he now has a bit of a harder time being able to track/pinpoint noises origins if its on his right side.)

-also yep! dons got some glasses that just clip/rest on the bridge of his nose! theyre mostly just for home use, as they do fall off if hes knocked around. in the field he has some goggles he tends to use (theyre helpful as they have multiple additional functions like heat-imaging, extra zoom/telescoping, and recording capabilities. but also theyll give him headaches if he wears them for too long without breaks). contacts are theoretically also an option but he absolutely hates the sensation of putting them in. so sometimes when hes tired he'll just not bother with either clips or goggles and just squint and struggle. leo hates when he does that lol.

-speaking of leo, he is def an anxious baby :) he has a few patches of fur missing on his hand cos he has the tendency to tug on it while hes thinking. he yanked and chewed on his own tail a lot when he was younger too, which is why when hes older he usually wears some wraps to cover the scars left from that behavior. he finds those scars specifically to be kinda embarrassing and shameful because they werent from any battle or life-lesson, just his own 'inability to control himself'. all of his brothers have repeatedly called him out on the fact that that is not a healthy way to think about his anxiety or mental health, but leo insists hes fine. hes kinda convinced himself that a proper warrior always has control over his own body* and his own thoughts, thus he should be able to just like willpower-brute-force his way into 'being better'. (this line of thinking pisses raph off so much he has to leave and go hit something)

Splinter also tries to talk him through some of that internalized guilt/shame/everything, but splinters very metaphorical, poetic, and indirect when it comes to talking about Big Things, which combined with how much leo gets caught in his own head, makes it kinda hard to gauge how much these talks actually help

*this is made extra fun considering leos also ftm trans, so he is faced with a body that fundamentally disobeys him perhaps more than the average rat-man.

-and im still going back and forth between a few species for splinter, but im leaning mostly towards an African Spurred Tortoise! they have these beautiful if kinda subtle geometric shell patterns and are the third largest species of tortoise in the world. the only thing that doesnt fit perfectly with Splints is that (allegedly) their lifespan in captivity is around 50ish years, whereas im p sure Tortoise Splinter is well over 75, probably closer to 90 when the boys are born and hes mutated into Old Man Papa.

but maybe hes just a particularly long lasting African Spurred Tortoise.

the Hamato family has taken very good care of him for many decades after all. :)

(well. until everything all fell apart, that is.....)

#tmnt #rat sons #my art #tmnt au #literally bouncing around the room thinking about this all #my downstairs neighbors are gonna hate me #ask reply #sort of???#pats leos fucked up lil head #this bad boy can fit so much projection #get out of ur head idiot ur family loves and wants to help u #also looking at the chaco tortoise and ploughshare tortoise for splinter thoboth of those are smaller species than i think he is

417 notes · View notes

heyitsspaceace · 9 months

Text

crowley is for the gifted students who were told they were smart and special, only later to be cast aside and punished for “straying” from their expectations.

crowley is for the ones who were treated horribly so they became harsher on the outside to protect themselves.

crowley is for the people who worked so hard to change, only for others to say they miss the old version of them.

crowley is for the children who’s parents payed no mind to their creations and hung their crayon drawings on the fridge themselves, only for them to be taken down.

#*taps the head of a demon*#this bad boy can fit so much projection in him #crowley is so incredibly special to me u have NO idea #the love i have for them is INSANE #good omens 2 #good omens #good omens crowley #crowley #anthony j crowley #go2 #david tennant

494 notes · View notes

beannary · 9 months

Text

TW EATING DISORDER

*slaps tlp Donnie* this bad boy can fit so much eating disorder in him

#my art #tmnt #tmnt 2018 #2018 tmnt #tmnt 2k18 #2k18 tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #tmnt donnie #tmnt donatello #rottmnt big mama #tmnt big mama #tlp au #the little prince separated au #haha more like *slaps tlp donnie* this bad boy can fit so much projection in him #tw eating disorder #tw disordered eating

708 notes · View notes

dogtooth-sunday · 2 months

Text

Commentors on my fanfics: wow, the way you write mental breakdowns and anxiety and depression and dissociation are so realistic!

Me: haha yeah, how about that

#dog's desk #fanfiction #slaps roof of me #this bad boy can fit so much projecting onto characters I relate to #tbf I'm way better than I used to be it's just cathartic to be able to write out those experiences through fiction

76 notes · View notes

bucket-of-mold · 5 months

Text

I think one of my favorite things about saiki k and the reason i keep coming back to it is how it takes superpowers that we are so used to thinking of as something amazing and highlights just how awful something like that can be. It takes the extraordinary and flips it on its head and say "hey but wouldnt this actually suck if you think about for more than three seconds?" Its something i really like because it creates much more interesting characters imo. A lot of super powerful characters in media feel pretty flat because the focus is on how great and awesome their powers are, but in saiki k you just have this guy who is basically god but hayes it and is dead set on being as average as possible. One of my other favorite things is all the disability metaphor potential

#slaps roof of saiki kusuo: this bad boy can fit so much projection on him #it really takes the usual superpower tropes and throws them out a window #my third thing is the gender but dont get me started #i have no smart articulation for it saiki is just doing gender so crazy and i want that #it is late idk if any of this is logical but this show is in my brain lately #the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki k

69 notes · View notes

izzyzalezbian · 1 year

Text

Super Mario Bros Movie Headcannons

When Luigi was young, and learned about how the sun was destined to explode and destroy their universe one day, he would stay up at night crying, and worrying about it

Mario would read him the same statistics about how the sun wasn’t due to explode until they were both long gone, over and over again whenever this happened, to help him calm down

Mario has a tendency to over-worry about Luigi, because he knows that his brother has an almost detrimental anxiety disorder, but also hand no idea how to help him

Luigi has a tendency to over-worry about Mario’s over-worrying

Mario talks with his hands- he waves and flaps them around while he’s talking

Luigi also talks with his hands, but only really when he’s excited, or talking with Mario

Peach doesn’t talk with her hands- in fact no one in the Mushroom Kingdom does. The first time she saw Mario and Luigi talking to each other while waving their hands around, she thought they were going to fight

Whenever Bowser sees Mario and Peach flirting, he makes sure to make some sort of fuss about it. Every. Single. Time.

Luigi pretends to throw-up whenever he sees Mario and Peach flirting

Bowser appreciates this, and thinks they have some type of commorodority in hating their relationship

They don’t.

Peach loves to bake, but she’s horrible at the decorating part. She can never get the frosting through the pipping bad without a mess, and fondant is never smooth. The treats themselves are delicious

She’s too stubborn to ask for help, so her and her treats just suffer in silence

Luigi, the Penguin King, and the rest of the prisoners keep in touch after they escape, and sometimes they’ll all meet up to play cards

Luma is not invited.

151 notes · View notes

ekho-ekho-ekho · 1 year

Text

so keeping in mind that my knowledge of the Silm is heavily adulterated with fanon tropes and secondhand snippets from the Unfinished Tales and other sundry scraps from the Professor’s archives—

what if the reason Maeglin seemed upbeat and friendly after returning to Gondolin post-betrayal was a form of malicious compliance?

like not for nothing, but if I went backpacking in the mountains for a few months and came back an extrovert of all things, my friends and family would be suspicious as hell. so if Maeglin was tortured/conditioned/bewitched to not let on that anything was amiss—as many interpretations seem to suggest—could he have found a loophole in the simple fact that he was (probably) clinically depressed to begin with?

just. imagine Maeglin exploiting this glaring psychological oversight (here at last his gloomy disposition might actually do some good!); just laying it on as thick as he can, smiling till his face hurts, all but banging pots and pans together in the desperate hope that someone, anyone, will see that this is not normal hey I’m not being normal hey guys something is horribly wrong. . . .

and practically the whole city, including his uncle, barely questions it except to express relief that he’s acting Normal for once.

#lotr #tolkien #Maeglin #Gondolin #Silmarillion #silm fandom #probably I am not the first person to think of this theory probably I am not the hundredth but I do have Feelings about it #*slaps roof of elf* this bad boy can fit so much projected trauma in him

294 notes · View notes

jayelves · 9 months

Text

✧.* age regressor! diluc hcs 🦉

diluc regresses to 0-2 yrs old !

mostly communicates through babbles or short sentences/words.

when diluc's regressed, he acts pretty distant at first, but once he gets more comfortable, he becomes super clingy.

deffo loves to have his grape juice in a sippy cup !!

his favorite activity to do when he's little is to draw/colour, especially birds!

he absolutely will infodump about the different types of birds in a rapidly spoken way followed by him excitedly showing off all the bird drawings he made.

he even has a main favorite owl plushie that stays beside him whenever he does anything.

definitely not a morning little one - he acts pretty cranky in the mornings and always wants to sleep in some more before he gives in and reluctantly gets up. (though he still ends up acting pouty throughout the whole morning.)

warm bubble baths are his go-to whenever he wants to feel relaxed.

jean is his cg! <3

she uses nicknames like little bird, sunshine, little firefly and sweetheart on him, while in return, diluc calls her mama.

diluc and kaeya sometimes have playdates together when they're regressed, and they still fuss over things when little, but luckily jean always manages to sort things out for them.

loves to and has a habit of chewing or biting things.

he'll chew on his fingers, his shirt, his hair, literally anything but his teether or pacifier.

he only ever uses his pacifier when he's about to go to sleep.

#*bonks diluc on the head* this bad boy can fit so much regression in him #half of these are just me projecting oops #this had been sitting in my drafts for a while now LMAO but it's finally out #age regression sfw #sfw age regression #sfw agere #agere sfw #sfw babyre #fandom age regression #fandom agere #agere fandom #genshin impact agere #genshin agere #agere headcanons #agere hcs #genshin age regression

54 notes · View notes

a-literal-toaster-wtf · 11 months

Text

constantly fighting the battle between “rimmer is completely undiagnosed” and “he got a diagnosis when he was too young to remember but his parents never told him”. either way the inherit trauma of going for such a long period of time without the proper supports you need plays in heavily

#red dwarf #arnold rimmer #totally not projecting #this is about him being autistic btw just to clear it up #the secret third option: he is diagnosed and he knows he’s diagnosed but doesn’t tell anyone because he was taught to be ashamed of it #god. this bad boy can fit so much internalised ableism in it

84 notes · View notes

professional-termite · 8 months

Text

haha im so normal about him. just. sosososo normal. the normalest. i swear guys im not going insane

#father kent #*slaps roof of kent* this bad boy can fit so much projection and religious trauma headcanons in it #i need to have my writing privaleges taken away #my god #haunted mansion 2023 #disney haunted mansion #haunted mansion movie #haunted mansion #kent haunted mansion #kent haunted mansion 2023 #owen wilson #yes this applies to a lot of other owen characters as well but atm its mostly kent

48 notes · View notes

supernovaa-remnant · 4 months

Text

so I decided to write a """little""" snippet of my dreambur-centric university au but it ended up being 1.6k words, so it's going under the cut lol

uhh cw for panic attacks and mentioned pet death

Dream’s hand reaches blindly for his bedside table, searching through his haze of panic for his phone. His chest feels tight, and he feels like he can’t really get enough air in his lungs, and his stomach feels uneasy, and he feels vaguely like he’s going to be sick or pass out or maybe both. He feels like he’s a kid again, accidentally stumbling into a blackberry bush with the summer sun bearing witness, anxiety curling around him like the brambles of the bush, piercing and unrelenting. It’s an all too familiar feeling, and, though he knows the cause of it this time, it does nothing to alleviate it.

He’s going back to university in a few days. And, it feels stupid to be worried about it because his first semester had, quite honestly, been amazing. There are friends he can’t wait to see and classes he’s excited to take, yet the anxiety persists all the same. Because he doesn’t want to leave. Because the thing about going to one’s hometown during a break is that it’s so easy to float in nostalgia and pretend like time is stretching infinitely and that nothing ever changed. He can fall into the same comforts he used to, and he can pretend he’s the same person he was months ago; he can pretend he’s an exception to change.

But his childhood cat, Hope, died a year ago. And the holidays have only gotten harder the older he’s gotten. And he’s not the same kid picking blackberries with his parents in the summer. He’s outgrown his childhood home, and the ghosts haunt his every move, but he still doesn’t want to leave because he wants to pretend that nothing changed. He wants to close his eyes and open them to Hope laying on his chest and his friends waiting for him outside his house.

But Hope died a year ago. And he’s a university student and not a high schooler, but he wants to shut his eyes and pretend anyway.

And he’s scared of going back. Because he loves his roommate, but sharing a room with another person can be so incredibly draining, and he just wants the space to exist alone. And a part of him thinks the whole “journey of self discovery” thing that’s supposed to happen at university isn’t quite worth it if it feels like his future has been torn out from under him.

And Hope died a year ago, and the grief is hitting him in towering waves, and he really can’t deal with everything else on top of that.

So, he’s fumbling for his phone, because even with all the dynamics amongst his childhood friends suddenly and almost abruptly shifting upon people’s departures to different universities, Bad has always helped him with his panic attacks.

But it’s not Bad’s voice that greets him when he finally manages to call someone, and he curses himself for forgetting that Bad’s no longer the only contact saved under “B” in his phone.

“Dream? Why the fuck are you calling me at 3 am?”

Dream doesn’t have the focus required to remind the groggy and annoyingly pretentious British voice that it’s 3 am in England, not Florida.

“Dream?”

The voice says again, more alert and laced with worry.

“Sorry, I–”

But Dream’s breath stutters, and he finds himself unable to continue his sentence, mouth filled only with the saltiness of his tears as he desperately tries to pull air into his lungs even as sobs keep interrupting his attempts.

And, through the haze, he hears a calming sound. Slowly, oh so slowly, he finds the panic subsiding. The sound he hears isn’t counting—as he would’ve expected with Bad—but rather softly strummed notes on a guitar.

“Sorry,” he says, ignoring how scratchy his voice is.

“Don’t mention it,” Wilbur says, because of course Dream had to accidentally call Wilbur Soot of all people. “Why did you call me, anyway? I was under the impression that you didn’t quite like me,” Wilbur says teasingly, though a bit of genuineness shines through.

“I don’t hate you,” Dream responds despite knowing that wasn’t what Wilbur asked at all.

“I know,” Wilbur says, “but that doesn’t mean you like me either.” Something about his voice when he says it causes something in Dream’s chest to twist painfully, but before he has the chance to correct the Brit, Wilbur’s continuing. “Anyway, back to my question; why did you call me?”

“I meant to call my friend Bad, but I guess I misclicked.”

“Wait, what am I saved as in your phone? Because if my memory serves me correctly, the letters ‘B’ and ‘W’ are very far apart from each other.”

Dream mumbles a response, not really wanting Wilbur to hear the answer. Because Dream truly had meant to change the contact name after he’d actually gotten to know Wilbur a bit better, but he’d kept forgetting, and every time he did remember, he was in the middle of something else.

“Pardon?” Wilbur asks, because of course he wouldn’t just take Dream’s muttered words as a response.

“I have you saved as ‘British Cunt,’” Dream says louder, ignoring the way his face burns with embarrassment.

For a moment, everything is silent. Then, Wilbur begins laughing, hearty and genuine, and something in Dream loosens. He’s not sure he’s ever heard Wilbur laugh so freely at something he said, and he finds himself with the inexplicable urge to make the other laugh again.

“As hilarious as that is,” Wilbur says, “you wanna tell me why you were panicking?”

Dream’s throat constricts at Wilbur’s words, the reminder of his anxiety causing it to flair up again.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Wilbur’s quick to say upon Dream’s silence. “You can call someone else.”

“No, it’s okay,” Dream manages to say, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “I’m just nervous to go back to uni, I guess.”

“Why?” There’s confusion in Wilbur’s voice when he asks, but there's a hint of curiosity, as well.

Dream struggles to find the words. Where does he even begin? With his fear of change? With the anxiety about next semester’s courses? With the lack of a security blanket? It feels like there’s so much that he doesn’t even know how to articulate it.

“I’m seventeen,” he settles on, whispering and choking on the words. “I’m seventeen,” he repeats, “and I graduated high school at sixteen, and I don’t think I was ready for this.”

He hates how scared he sounds. He hates how vulnerable he’s being with Wilbur, of all people. Niki would have been a better person to have this discussion with, or even Techno. But Wilbur? Dream doesn’t know where he stands with the Brit, and he’s not sure he should be telling the other this at all.

He hears a sharp exhale as Wilbur mutters something unintelligible. Then, Wilbur says, “maybe you weren't ready.”

“It’s a big change,” Dream says, chuckling wetly. Change. He’d never really been good with that.

“It is,” Wilbur agrees. “But you can’t go back. Regardless of whether or not you were ready, the change has happened, and nothing you do will make that any less true. Sure, you could drop out or take a gap year, but that won’t magically make things go back to how they were.”

Dream makes a wounded sound, and he internally curses himself for doing such a thing when Wilbur would hear. A part of him wants to hang up. A part of him wants to hang up and cover his ears and pretend like this never happened. But, a bigger part of him, the part that admires Wilbur though he’d never admit it, is begging him to ask for advice.

“So what do I do?” He asks, voice sounding as unsure as he feels.

“You move forward,” Wilbur responds bluntly. “But that doesn’t mean you have to be alone,” he adds more softly. “You have Techno and Niki and,” Wilbur pauses, hesitating for a moment, before continuing. “And you have me, if you want me.”

And Dream thinks about it. He thinks about arguments and debates and biting words. He thinks about Wilbur’s pretentious attitude, and he thinks about everything about Wilbur that has gotten on his nerves during the past semester. He thinks about every conversation with subtle insults hidden under pretty words.

And then, he thinks about everything else. He thinks about Wilbur and Niki sharing make-up tips. He thinks about Wilbur joking around with Techno and Tommy and Tubbo. He thinks about Wilbur helping Ranboo with the subjects Techno isn’t as strong in. He thinks about Wilbur feeding the local stray cats.

He thinks about soft hands leading him out of a party and notes from a shared lecture given without ever having been asked for. He thinks about the soft strums of a guitar calming him from panic.

“Thanks, Wil,” he says. “We should hang out more.”

“I’m always up for hanging out with pretty boys,” Wilbur responds, grin audible in his tone.

Dream scoffs and says, “get some sleep, idiot,” instead of responding to Wilbur’s playful flirting.

“Yeah, you too,” Wilbur says with a yawn. “And Dream?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. I’ll always pick up.”

Dream smiles. “I’ll keep that in mind. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. Sweet dreams.”

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid. I’m hanging up now.”

Wilbur’s giggles are abruptly cut off when Dream hangs up, but he can’t shake off the fond smile that has found its way to his face. And, most amazingly of all, he finds himself more excited to return to uni than dreading it. The anxiety is still there, of course, but he thinks that maybe he’ll be able to find ways to manage it, after all.

#madduo #c!dreambur #writing from the void #I don't have a name for this au yet #I think I wanna make it an actual fic tbh #also haha can you tell I'm anxious abt going back to uni lol #*gesturing to dream in this fic* this bad boy can fit so much projection #also I'm still figuring out the ages so don't look too closely at everything #cdreambur #tdcc au

14 notes · View notes

shitty-miraak · 1 year

Note

Miraak, do you have a crush on any dragonborn oc? 👀

POV : you and Miraak are having a sleepover and you're both burritoe'd in blankets and having a good time

Real-ish answer is I think it depends on the need of whatever fic/art/daydream you're reading or writing or drawing or thinking here. So yes, kinda ?

#this is a no-ldb blog i am not putting my or anyone's OCs here so really #it's anything you want to project onto him #(slaps roof of miraak) this bad boy can fit so much shipping #tes #miraak #thanks for the ask!#anon #tes fanart #i forgot what my usual tags were but EH #drawing miraak blushing is incredibly entertaining

74 notes · View notes

noxexistant · 1 year

Text

i now have thoughts about (modern au) delanceys and photos. they don’t really have many taken of them - parents take photos, and they don’t have those. it’s usually just the classic awkward foster carer or social worker photos, making the boys stand there beside each other and smile while they’re on stupid day trips or doing stupid tasks like baking or painting.

oscar doesn’t smile. what the hell does he have to smile about? because someone who’s paid to pretend to care about him is telling him to? just to prove that they’re doing their job of pretending to care? he glares instead, right into the camera, and he’ll walk away if whoever’s taking the photo gets too insistent, so almost every photo of him has that same expression. he hates having photos taken of him anyway - he hates his face, his dad’s face.

morris smiles. that’s what you’re supposed to do in photos, he knows. he’s been told. and he does as he’s told, when the person behind the camera orders “smile!” and holds it up, obscuring their face behind the lens. he’ll cling to oscar’s side or throw an arm around him, just like he used to do when they were little kids in photos, and he’ll smile. an expression only oscar recognises as totally strained and false - morris doesn’t really smile like that, but he doesn’t really smile at anyone but oscar. his face scrunches up when he really smiles, and he shows his teeth, and his eyes squint almost closed. it’s nothing compared to how he smiles in photos, so oscar hates that too.

when pictures of them get put up in the foster home, oscar’ll pull them down and tear them to shreds. only sometimes stopping to save morris’ half of the photo, to keep for himself tucked away somewhere, but otherwise destroying all evidence. until, at least, he sees the first candid picture of them - taken during some stupid task, baking or making art or on the beach, but taken without any attention brought to the camera or orders of “smile!”. neither of them are looking at the camera. morris is looking at the task at hand, face all scrunched up in his real smile, and oscar’s not glaring. he’s looking at morris, and he’s smiling too, soft and tender.

he still doesn’t let the picture stay up. he pulls it down and leaves the empty space where it was, a gap on the wall filled with all the other kids. but he doesn’t tear that one up - he keeps it, whole, for himself and morris. it’s the first thing he ever puts up on their bedroom wall, after countless years of so much moving and leaving that he’s reluctant to even unpack their clothes when they enter a new facility.

morris smiles when he sees it. “it’s us!” he says, and rushes up on oscar’s bed to get a better look. “you’re smilin’.” morris is beaming, the same expression as in the photo. the expression that’s always just for oscar. so, when he turns back to look at oscar, oscar manages to smile back at him. and, when they inevitably leave that facility too, he tucks the photo safe in his ratty little rucksack of belongings, and puts it up in their next bedroom too.

#[slaps roof of characters without parents] these bad boys can fit so much projection in em #newsies #oscar delancey #morris delancey #my writing

20 notes · View notes