#First two drawings were done without reference

[tvntheatre]

OH MY GOD I CAN FINALLY FUCKING POST MY AXIS NONSENSE, LET IT BE KNOWN THAT I AM BIASED TOWARDS THE DISCARDED BOT!!!!!!!!!!!

If you think that the pink+yellow one is too bright and inaccurate, refer to the sixth picture in the post.

[just-a-gender-fluid-puddle]

Happy Glorious 25th of May to all who celebrate!

Have some sketchbook pages I did of various Night Watch characters

I've never posted my art on here before and I don't know if I will again but I'm actually pretty proud of these so I thought I'd post them for today

[remxedmoon]

your friends don’t know what to do.

so!! i redrew every single enemy in the game. in the span of like 9 days (excluding the king i made him right after the last update). that’s abbbout 79* drawings total, with only 3 custom ones for once!! i’m so normal. as always, these are free to use with credit!! go nuts!! spritesheets are included <3

got some notes under the cut, along with As Many Enemies As I Could Fit without making this post obnoxiously long. and i failed. i had to swap between the app and browser several times and i still couldn’t fit every drawing. open this post at your own risk (silly).

okay so first of all. what’s with the asterisk. well. I Drew A Lot More Than 79 Assets Actually. they’re getting posted separately, because this post is ABSURDLY long. you can find most of them in the miscellaneous folder, but for a bit of clarity, i added the teleport map and a bunch of ui elements that reference sprites from the icon sheet. and also the game over and loop back animations but i haven’t finished the spritesheets for those because they’re a pain in the ass so they’re not in the drive yet

if you missed my complaining a few days ago, a few enemies might look a bit crunchy in the actual game? specifically, calamité and désespoir were drawn at the wrong size, because their images in the files do not match the spritesheets! i avoided the issue with most of the other enemies, those two just blindsided me. sorry about that!

^sadnesses having inconsistent designs was actually a running theme with these. détresse rock has an unused design in the files (which i managed to catch before having to redo it thankfully), anxiété has extra spikes that don’t appear on the spritesheet (sorry i was too lazy to fix that one), even the version of the friend rescue in the files doesn’t match any of the frames in the spritesheet. hfjfhfj. sorry about the quality issues.

tangentially related to that, massive thank you to @riggedbones for grabbing the individual frames for the animations for me!! they made my life so much easier. vs friends would’ve been so annoying…

speaking of the animations! hi can you tell i’m not an animator. these were my first time doing Anything animation related since, like, middle school. super sorry for the Jank in some of these! the friend rescue looked way better when i drew it 💔💔.

bourdon’s hands also might act a bit odd, my apologies. the sizing ingame is SUPER inconsistent (why is one of the hands SMALLER than the other????). once i’m able to actually test the mod, i’ll try to fix it wauaua.

the 3 custom sprites are for the triplets! i ended up making two versions for each, one that follows the ingame art, and one with my personal designs for them. i like my own designs for them, but they’re a lot easier to tell apart? so if you want to use the ones that fit the gimmick better, they’re also in the drive 👍

this update. was originally going to have way more custom art. i’ve actually got an act 6 siffrin enemy asset in my art program! but school started and i decided it’d be better to just get the normal stuff done. so the mod can actually come out in a reasonable timeframe. promise that’ll all come out Later! sorry about the wait 😓😓😓

also adding this because i almost forgot: no i don’t know if these are compatible with sasasaap. i don’t have the game still and it’s not my main priority atm, apologies!

okay! that was a lot! and there’s a ton of art down here! thank you for reading all this, i’ll be back with the game over animations and teleport map pretty soon! like. within the weekend. enjoy!!!

[ssahotchnerr]

Could you write something where someone compliments Hotch for "babysitting" and "helping out" when hes out with his kids and he gets all 😑😑 do you mean parenting my children?

standard parenting

omg LOL cw; dad!aaron, reader is referred to as mom, a ton of domestic fluff, very light suggestiveness (hehe reader and aaron are soo in love <3) wc; 1.2k

"Jack." Aaron moved forward, spotting his son as he climbed up a curved ladder, at the ready if he were to suddenly slip. "Careful."

"I am." He took the last, big step, his hands gripping the supporting bars and landing on the platform safely. "I've done this two times already Dad."

"Help your sister down the slide, okay? I'll meet the two of you at the bottom."

"Okay." He confirmed, beelining down a rattly bridge in the direction of Ellie.

It was approximately 3 pm on a Tuesday, the park filled with the afternoon rush of children freshly out of school. A doctor's appointment had brought Aaron out of the BAU early, and after picking up Jack from school, Ellie from preschool, he figured there was no better way to burn off energy than the playground.

Hopefully it allowed for a quiet, relaxing night at home, with both kids in bed at a decent time.

Aaron stood at the bottom of the slide, peering upwards and squinting - he had regretfully left his sunglasses in the car. Ellie stood at the top, looking a bit lost once her turn was next, the slide intimidatingly large for a newly four-year-old.

"Jack's coming, honey."

It took some convincing; Aaron reassuring her he was right there, there to catch her if she overshot into the mulch. Jack would be right behind her. Further hesitation on her end: Do you want Jack to go first? No. Are you sure you want to go down? Yes.

Finally down came Ellie, giggling profusely and not paying a mind to the static the slide caused (Aaron mentally winced at the sound). Jack followed soon after.

"See, there you go." Aaron praised, hands moving to his hips.

"Again, please please please." Ellie whined gently, looking up at Aaron with her identically adjacent brown eyes. It was something she was beginning to master, the puppy dog look that could cause him to cave within seconds.

He was in for it.

"Sure pumpkin." Aaron grinned down at his little piggy-tail headed daughter. "Just a few more times though, Mom's waiting at home."

"C'mon Ellie. I'll race you." Jack suggested, kicking up dirt as he bolted off without waiting for a distinct answer. She ran after him, as fast as her small legs could carry her.

Aaron called out after him, "The stairs, Jack."

"I know!"

"Cute kids."

A mother - Aaron inferred - commented, falling alongside him. Aaron's eyes continued to track the two of them, ensuring they remained together and stayed far away from any arched ladders. They dashed up the stairs, into the depths of the play structure.

Aaron offered her a friendly smile in return, "Thank you."

"It's nice to see someone so attentive for a change." She huffed, notably an impressed breath. "Most babysitters just sit on the bench on their cell phone."

Aaron's expression dropped; a mix of confusion and dumbfound, his smile gradually fading. The only thing going through his mind: I'm sorry, what?

"Well, I'm not like most babysitters." He frowned, pressing his lips together and eyebrows drawing into a line.

"Good for you." She commended, not taking the hint. A child called out to her, causing her to move forward. "See ya."

She left, but scowl on his face stayed.

It hadn't put him in a bad mood, but rather, a dulled mood. The inference could've been an honest mistake, it most likely was, but it settled funny within him.

Only at Ellie's, 'Daddy look!' did his face brighten up. For them.

-

"Hi Momma!" Ellie bounded into the kitchen, nearly crashing into you and smiling from ear to ear. "We're home!"

Jack added to her status report, voices intertwining. "Dad took us to the park!"

"It looks like you two had fun." You grinned, using the pad of your thumb to swipe away an unblended bout of sunscreen on the side of Jack's nose. You also took note of his grass stained sweats, and the dirt scuff on Ellie's knees.

"We did! Jackers helped me down the slide and Daddy pushed me on the swings-"

"No one pushed me on the swings." Aaron commented, his hand finding the small of your back momentarily as he brushed past.

"That's 'cause you're big." Ellie made a face at her father.

"Can we go again on Saturday?" Jack asked, "I wanna bring my soccer ball."

"We'll have to see what we're up to, bud," Aaron answered, also fetching him a cup of cold water. The car ride consisted of Jack stating how thirsty he was, and how he refused to drink the lukewarm water his bottle held. "But I don't see why not."

Meanwhile, Ellie plopped herself onto the floor, pulling off her shoes and dumping the remnants of lingering mulch onto the floor.

"Hey hey hey let's not do that." You said, your nose scrunching lightly too; the normal kid-stink that followed after an afternoon spent in the sun. "And baths, both of you. Go on, I'll be there in a second."

Ellie's voice carried as she ventured up, something along the lines of bringing her mermaid Barbie in the tub with her. You ruffled Jack's hair gently as he passed, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head.

"You know what someone said to me today?" Aaron asked, turning towards the sink to wash his hands.

"Aren't you forgetting something first?"

He stopped, a knowing smile forming on his face. "How dare I."

Aaron moved forward, hands finding your waist to pull you near, placing his lips onto yours for a few seconds. Albeit how short it was, you savored it; coming home after a long, long day.

Satisfied, "Enlighten me."

He paused to actually wash his hands, flicking the water droplets off once he finished. You tossed him the hand towel that happened to be nearby.

"Someone mistook me for a babysitter."

"What?" You snorted out a laugh.

"Left me speechless." He exasperatedly rolled his eyes, wiping his hands and throwing the towel back onto the counter. "Can you believe that?"

"Well, you know how some people can be." You shrugged. Your statement wasn't much help, but what could you do.

"Oblivious?"

"What prompted it?"

"Standard parenting. I was simply keeping a close eye. The slide made Ellie nervous, Jack was being a bit adventurous today, and the playground itself was a nightmare. Everyone had the same idea I did, it was packed."

You hummed in response, dumping the neglected water from Jack and Ellie's water bottles out. Aaron continued to ramble on.

"And she saw the two of them. Jack - he resembles Haley a bit more, sure. But Ellie?"

"Your twin."

"Exactly." Aaron scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Babysitter. How in the world does that title come to mind before Dad?"

He shook his head as his eyes found the ceiling; utter disbelief.

"You know," you raised an eyebrow, regaining his focus, "you're hot when you're fired up."

"Am I?" Aaron smirked, pulling you in again just as he did before, arm winding behind your back.

"Mom!"

A whine drifted from upstairs, Aaron pulled away from your lips with a comically heavy, defeated sigh.

You shoved him at the chest playfully, grabbing a laugh from him, heading upstairs.

"She, huh." You teased, "Are you sure it wasn't some strategically formed ploy in hopes you were unmarried? Wouldn't be the first time."

He trudged up the stairs behind you, a chuckle shaking through his chest. "I doubt it. She seemed genuine."

"And you would know." You quipped, ends of your mouth turned upwards.

"With my profiling expertise?" He bantered back, playfully patting your behind as you reached the second level. "I'd hope so."

[ceruleanmindpalace]

Inktober No. 16 - Muddy + Wound Cleaning

Headcanon:

Sherlock in the bathroom of an abandoned hotel during his 'hiatus'. He was lucky it was a full moon because his torch's batteries were empty. Heating the water up in a fireplace took ages but it was worth doing it for the first bath in weeks. 

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

This the biggest step out of my comfort zone this Inktober I guess, which is working without exact reference material.

The reference picture for this was of a medium height woman and I had to change that into … well… male Sherlock. It was super hard to draw his body by educated guesswork. Having done two semesters of life drawing certainly helped, even if it was ages ago.

Big thank you @adorkastock for their vast collection of reference pictures where this was done from.

Promts from @bluebellofbakerstreet  and @whumptober 's promptlist for Inktober 2024.

I am flattered if you reblog, but do NOT post my art on other sites/social media or use in any other way without my written permission.

[xitsensunmoon]

They are having a tea party!

Artfight mass attack on @silvermizuki @venomous-qwille @chocolateseeds @ilsole @just-a-drawing-bean @nebuladreamz @garbagechocolate @darkxsoulzyx @smoljeanius

Close ups!

Did this attack kill me? Yes. I think I spent more than 5 days on this. Will I do more artfight attacks? Also yes :)

Process under the cut because why not?..

I used a reference photo of some random theater play. And I will be honest that reference literally started it all because it was perfect for multiple characters. You can see similar poses and lighting as well lol

It's funny you can't see Razzle here because I was trying hard to hide from Bean that I included him ahahaha

Me struggling with bg... And all the characters too hahha. Have no idea why I chose such complicated designs together (well, some of them are complicated yeah)

Lined and ready... My friends were like "you aren't going to colour it, right?" Right.

I finished rendering bg first, surprisingly it took me only two hours and one layer haha. I see some mistakes already but was too eager to finally be done with it. Not gonna show bg separately because I don't want it to be used anywhere but here <3 Then I layed out all the colours(the fact that some details died with final render always kills me from inside slightly<//3) and shaded the characters. Each character took me from 20-40 minutes, depending on how complicated their design and lighting were. I was really determined to make every character look good in their own environment, like on close ups, but also to make the whole thing work as whole too.

Funny how ugly it looks without final effects too lmao. The final pic you have already saw. Thanks for attention<3

[the-monkeies-girl]

Berry Foraging. ( Planet of the Apes Imagines. )

Characters below includes: Ceasar, Noa, Anaya and Soona ( The Trio babey. ), Blue Eyes, Koba. Prompt: You've gone Berry Foraging. How would the scenario play out with each characters? Rating: T. ( Some language, primarily in Koba's LOL. ) Caesar.

The sun felt good against your skin now that you had shed your jacket, leaving you delectably exposed to the clean air. Caesar found it difficult not to watch how your shoulders move when you worked, when you shifted next to him to dive inwards towards the blackberry bush in front of the two of you. As simple as an activity it was, and as easy as it was for the Ape King to pin the task on someone else, to have you escorted to the Red Woods to pick berries, he did relish in the mild silence that surrounded the two of you as you intently placed your fingers against a vine and inspected it for ripeness, bringing it ever so closer to your face as your eyes narrowed at it. The way your mouth opened as you muttered to yourself, saying that it wasn’t ready before seeking another vine to inspect… Caesar found it difficult to actually focus on finding his own to pick. Like he would know how. Like he actively came foraging with the female Apes when they came out once a week in a group. Huffing to himself at that, he was careful to watch you.

You were surely faster than he was, deducing that the vine you had turned your attention to was more than good and you began plucking them berries off one by one, placing them delicately into the basket that was between your bent knees as you had crouched down to inspect the berry bush properly. Admittedly… This was something that Caesar had not done for years.

Well, at least since the Colony first took hold and he was demanded to be stationary there in case danger arose. Always easier to be in the same spot than to be missing in action and having tens of Apes out in the woods on horseback looking for their leader. Now, with Blue Eyes coming to age, and with the assistance from Rocket and Maurice, Caesar was able to take in moments like this, laced intricately with his favorite type of intimacy.

“No, no,” Your hands were suddenly grabbing at his own, the touch itself setting Caesar’s calloused hands alight as you grasped at them and pulled them towards you, “Do you see here?” Your pointer finger gestured at a berry at the very top of the vine that Caesar had figured was okay to pick at. Obviously not as you explained to him in a gentle voice, one that he would drown in if he was allowed, “They’re still a little green. Not ready yet.”

Were… Were you… telling him how to do this? Caesar narrowed his eyes, brow pulling in on itself as he looked at you, perplexity written completely over his expression. He chortled at that- At someone telling him what to do, how to actually do something correctly.

“Look here,” Lifting a hand up, you placed it against his bicep as your other hand reached and grasped it considerately as to not place any damage to it, “See how they’re colored? Darker?” Caesar looked at what you were referring to and gave a slight nod. Smiling at him, you squeezed where your grasp was placed on his body before pushing both hands forward and plucking the berries off with content, “That’s the color you want. Otherwise they’re going to be too bitter to eat. I don’t know any Ape who would enjoy that.”

Caesar tried to follow suit, almost mimicking your body language as he fell into a deeper crouch, inspecting the bush for what you had in turn told him to seek.

“Koba,” He said suddenly, the brazen and deep baritone of his vocals drawing you in without any regard for your other senses. He knew you liked to joke, in fact, Caesar found himself more prone to do just that when alone with you and it was a great way to put you at ease, to put you in a good mood - Or, if flirtatious in nature, enough to get you to lay with Caesar. This joke fell into the ‘good mood’ category as he finished his statement, “Koba would enjoy.”

That made you snicker, nodding in agreement. Caesar felt entranced momentarily as the sun caught your hair, giving the impression that you were ablaze as your gaze reached his own and you laughed in return, “Bitter berry for bitter Ape.” Noa, Anaya and Soona.

There were tears very visible at the corner of your eyes. Noa felt a small sense of panic wash over him at the expression, how you looked down at your feet in absolute defeat. Rested right in front of you were the remains of the berries you were so careful to pick, so careful to clean as you placed them in the wickered basket, scattered all along the floor of the woods. Now covered with mud and sediment and you were on the very verge of crying as a result. Anaya hadn’t meant to - He apologized the moment it happened, the moment the basket hit the ground and you let out a rather startling yap. Anaya swore to Noa he was just playing around, hiding behind a tree in a bid to scare you. In fact, your hands were still dangling mid-air out of shock like you were still holding the basket. Soona was silent next to Noa, her eyes looking between the raspberries and you, wondering why you were having this reaction. She then turned her attention to Noa in hopes that maybe he could translate. Unfortunately, for all three Apes, there was no clear translation. The look Noa gave her, the look Noa gave Anaya, biting around the edges but never enough to ruin a friendship, told them to back off slightly. You spoke - alerting all three of them that you were still there, not completely lost in the abandonment the poor berries must have felt being on the ground. “My… rasp… berries….” Shaking in tone, Noa tried to flank you so he could see your face but your chin was dipped and your eyes were now tracing the shapes the berries made. A few of them, in your mind at least, looked like a poorly drawn flower. You swallowed softly and looked at Noa with a distressed gaze, “They’re all gone.” Anaya yipped, “Sorry---” Noa placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. Removing his hand just as quickly as it was placed, Noa reached down and grasped the basket in front of you, crouching on all four in front of you to obscure the vision of your now wasted forage. The pads of his fingers lined the wickered basket, catching here and there against the rough nature of his skin as he attempted to hand it back to you, his arm extending before dropping at the crushed visual of your face. The twist in his stomach was incredibly uncomfortable as the basket was placed on the ground and suddenly, Noa was encapsulating your entire vision. He placed a hand to your cheek first, caressing the smoothness of your skin before bringing his head in to rest against your own to comfort you. You didn't move in response and Noa took a step forward in a bid to captivate your attention.  “A… A lot of bushes here, can pick more.” A small sniffle hit your nose as you nodded in agreement, suddenly aware of your mated love’s closeness. Of course there were more. You were in the middle of the woods, your favorite spot in fact, and were surrounded by many bushes, riped, lush for the picking and taking.

You sniffled again, finally breaking the awkward stance you were holding and raised a hand to wipe the underside of your nose before you grasped Noa’s forearms, beckoning him nearer, to keep him close to you so you could have a speckled moment of privacy in front of Anaya and Soona, who were entangled in their own argument about the entire situation. You could vaguely make out Soona telling Anaya to apologize again. “T-They were for you,” Noa’s eyes widened at the declaration and with that, he held you a bit closer, almost to the point where it felt like a headache was forming where your foreheads were cusped. “I picked them for you, you-you really like raspberries and we-we never have enough at dinner and I---” Anaya shifted towards you and Noa, looking at his friend first who stepped aside slightly. Anaya  offered you the basket that was against his back, half full. He never went back with a full one, often picking some out to eat while plucking subsequent berries from the bush and often indulged on the journey back to the Clan. He gave you a gracious smile, extending his arm out with the basket. “Can… can take Anaya’s.” Swallowing gently, you grabbed his basket delicately and gave him a half-hearted smile as he apologized under his breath again, “Th… Thank you.” Noa watched the encounter and softened his gaze at that. Just one more thing; the Eagle Clan leader stepped forward and lightly brought his thumb along the top of your right cheek to catch a tear from falling. You smiled slightly at him, looking down at Anaya’s basket and finding yourself maniacally entranced in laughter. 

“He ate all the raspberries.” Blue Eyes.

Cornelius was so… Small. You tilted your head at that thought, hands full of fuzzy blackberries. You found it difficult at the moment to find a better description. But, it was beyond true. The berries in your hand found a home in the basket in front of you. Incredibly cute and so very small. Fragile, almost. That was not the case at all; if anyone even looked at the baby Chimp with the wrong indentation, Blue Eyes was prone to attack out of protectiveness. Watching with bated breath, Cornelius brought himself to cling a little further closer to his older brother, splatted along his back as Blue Eyes was crouched next to you, Ash on the other side. They had gotten you to go fishing, it was only fair you got them to go berry picking.

The added bonus? Cornelius was under Blue Eyes’ care today, and the little stow-a-way was eating the berries right out of the basket that his older brother was trying to fill. You chuckled at that, watching the small frame dip himself down Blue Eyes arm, onto the ground and then quite literally, into the basket itself. The quaint hoots and small howl at a blueberry warmed your heart, but the absolute chaos of Blue Eyes' gaze on his baby brother was universally known. Wise older brother, annoying little brother who got in the way. It was not more evident than in the moment as Blue Eyes grasped him softly, placing him outside of the basket before Cornelius jumped right back in. A growl escaped the older of the two before he repeated it and signed at his brother, ‘stay’ with one hand. Smiling at him when he made eye contact with you, you were flushed and eager to turn your face back towards the action of your hands.

Funny how that worked. Sibling annoyance was truly known across all creatures. Smiling at the Ape Prince when he made eye contact with you, you were flushed and eager to turn your face back towards the action of your hands. Pulled into a state of lulling day-dreams, you slid your fingers along the vines that held the berries and found a mild prickle sitting at the base of your spine when Blue Eyes’ fingers brushed against yours when you went for the same bunch. You apologized quietly, letting him have his fill, Cornelius’ small eyes watching the berries fall into the basket with intensity. He raised his hands to grab one but Blue Eyes simply ignored it as if it were second nature to deflect the annoyance that rose when Cornelius ended up in his way. Truly siblings, you thought to yourself with a small chuckle.

You were being nudged--- Humming under your breath, your focus turned to Ash who was peering down at your basket with focused intent. You blinked, swinging yourself back into reality, right out of the nice thoughts of Blue Eyes and his baby brother. Wh--- You blinked again, the munching sounds overtaking all of your senses as Cornelius shoved the freshly picked blackberry into his mouth before looking up at you.When did he get there? How long were you daydreaming? There was a mild stare down between yourself and the younger of the two brothers. It felt like you were enthralled in each other’s presence but it was quickly shot down when Blue Eyes finally took notice and pulled his baby brother out of your basket and placed him back onto his shoulder silently.

‘Sorry.’ Blue Eyes signed at you, digging into his basket and placing a few of his berries into your own as recognition that Cornelius had eaten some of your own. His were okay to eat, but yours? Off limits.

Koba.

“Human,” The gruff nature of Koba’s voice was more than grating enough to take you out of the quiet day-dream you had going in your head as your fingers were quick to push blueberries off their twig home and into a basket laying beside you. Groaning to yourself, you dropped your head before looking up at the Bonobo who had been so graciously blessed by Caesar to take you into the woods to forage for berries. He didn't even bother to dis-mount his stallion and rested on it for the last thirty minutes. “Almost done?”

This was the fifth time he asked you if you were ready to leave in the last ten minutes. Your patience felt like it was teetering between an insane breakdown, which you resisted waging that yelling at Koba was not going to earn you any favors, and quite aggravation. You drove with the second choice and smiled sarcastically at him, “Do you think my answer is any different than it was two minutes ago?” Silently, Koba fell back on his saddle, the action in itself rather reminiscent of a child who wanted to leave the grocery store but was placed in the shopping cart of a prison to ride the remainder of the trip in disappointment. Without a doubt, he was going to have words with Caesar about this later, figuring it to be just a punishment for causing mutiny without a abandonment. You laughed at that to yourself, knowing that Koba’s complaints were going to fall of deaf ears.

Bothersome silence ensued beyond your capacity. It felt bubbling, the way that he looked at you with his one good eye. The sweep against your entire body as you moved to another bush, content with what you had foraged from the previous. The glare against the back of your head as you began diligently working the new bush. You quipped sarcastically at him, looking at the berries in your hand before letting them slide down your palms into the basket, “You know what would make me go faster?”

Koba tilted his head in thought, though you knew what he was thinking with reckless care. He’d surely say something like ‘you… to be dead’ or a rather clever ‘Koba… threatening you’. Smiling at the sudden wash of familiarity at the fact that despite his best efforts, you knew how he could respond, the grin you gave him was more than shit-eating as you grumbled, “If you’d get off your horse and help me. I need to fill the basket.”

The narrowing of his expression was something you could write a book on. The tense nature of his muscles, gleaming it seemed as the sun vibrated off his fur, the permanent scowl of his brow and mouth. Koba had to be the metaphorical poster child for ‘human hater’. Not that it was a problem most days, but right now, you wanted to be left in some semblance of peace to pick your berries without having to hear him complain over and over again about wanting to go back to the Colony. Without his absolutely relentless dry inquiries about whether you were done or not. He hummed - deep in his chest and the sound was brutal to your ears. “Koba does not…”

The grimace on his face tempted you to double over in laughter, but you were positive that would be interpreted as a threat and you’d be pinned to a nearby tree with his teeth in your jugular. Bringing your knees together, you bounced in your squatting position and looked up at him, almost asking with your eyes to finish his statement. “Koba… does not… pick berries.” No shit, you wanted to say but refrained. You filed away the response to be used at a moment when you were around others who would ensure your safety. “Just thought I’d throw the option out there. If two of us were doing it, we could go back in like… Ten minutes.”

There was no processing your words, or at least, there was no clear indication that Koba actually considered them. More often than not, they slid right off him and he just ignored them, preferring to sit in petulant silence which was exactly what he was doing. With one more look at the Ape, you proceeded forward and found pleasure in how your fingers moved around the bush to find what you were seeking, all too aware of the heated scrutiny you were now being surveyed under. Looking right into his eyes, you smiled viciously as you popped a berry into your mouth and chewed painstakingly slow. For sure, you thought to yourself with a chortle, Caesar was going to hear about this from Koba.

[mossyswritingcorner]

Okay so, I’m kinda struggling with ViriPV Pt2, so if yall have any ideas for that, please send them into the ask box, but I did manage to finish Archivist!Reader x Professor!Sage of Truth Pt 2, with this one being a more meaty chapter, so please enjoy! ❤️

Pt 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Witches.

Witches witches witches witches WITCHES!!!

This was absolutely TERRIBLE news!

Why was he here? How did he find you out? What did he think about you now??? Did he think you were some kind of stalker creep??? Was he here to give you a warning before he reports you to your superiors???

Yet, he seemed all too chipper for that to be the case…maybe he still wasn’t sure. Maybe this was a test to see if you’d admit it. Maybe this was all just a big misunderstanding, and he wasn’t even sure of who was really behind it all. You just have to play your cards right and do everything in your power to make this disappear.

So you force a smile onto your face and draw a hand to your doughy chest, disguising your genuine alarm at being discovered as a simple startle from your unexpected guest, “Ah! You must be the Sage of Truth, my apologies, you…surprised me. I didn’t see any scheduled appointments during my office hours today and wasn’t expecting any…visitors. Excuse my negligence, your…uhm…” You trail off, oh god what do you call a sage?

You weren’t exactly in a position where offending the cookie by referring to him by the wrong title would go over well, and most intellectuals of his stature who come to teach at the academy place great importance on how they’re addressed to - much to your chagrin - so you shakily settled on a meager, “…your…sageliness…”

Which you regretted the second it left your lips…especially when the Sage let out an amused snicker in response.

“Now now, there’s no need for formalities. After all, we’ve been around each other more than enough to consider ourselves familiar - more than mere acquaintances needing prissy titles for each other, really.” He hums, his sharp smile stretching even wider as he eyes you eagerly.

Oh witches, he’s already jumping to accusations.

You were screwed…unless…?

No, this was good, great even. You get to make the first move.

This was your chance to clear your name. He was presenting a bluff, a goad to get a confession out of you, but this hard and fast approach won’t shake you. Just be calm, remember you haven’t done anything wrong, and keep it to the snippets of truth in this elaborate lie you’re spinning.

“Pardon? I’m sorry, are you thinking of another archivist? I don’t believe we’ve ever spoken.” You answer simply, with a steadiness in your voice that even surprises you. Well, it was technically true, so perhaps that helped your fibbing to not falter.

His blue and golden eyes narrow into thinly creased expressions of mirth, “Ah, well that’s because we haven’t, but I’m quite sure I’m in the right office. I even cancelled class without warning just to confirm. The head bibliosoph told me that you’re the only archivist who takes their lunch at this time, and consequently, you’re the only archivist who was missing from your office during the time I would be lecturing.”

Just double down, you’re not screwed over yet.

“…I don’t understand what you’re getting at…I was not in my office because I was on my lunch break, that doesn’t mean I’m…what? Spying on you?” You reply simply with a bit of forced indignation, though you can’t help the bead of sugary sweat that glides down your face.

“You’re right, it doesn’t. But the fact that you’re back here so soon does. You were gone for four and a half minutes, and notably, there’s a two minute walk from here to my classroom. Now, accounting for the time it’d take to walk to my class, read the note, realize it was cancelled, and walk back, that would take roughly four and a half minutes. Far too convenient to be mere coincidence, don’t you think?” He explains in that same matter of fact glee that tilts on the taut tightrope between a well of scholarly knowledge and a showman’s theatrics.

WITCHES.

You knew the Sage was clever, but setting a trap of pure intellect just to catch who was eavesdropping on his lectures was absolutely insane. You’d already been outwitted from the moment you stepped into your office, but you were in way too deep to stop now.

“…but…I…uhm…well…I only came back because…because…” You stammer out, straining your useless brain for any out here, yet the twisted truths you’ve been relying on fail you entirely, leaving you to talk out of your own ass, “…because…I forgot something in my office…”

“Lie.”

Your brows raise, “What?”

“That was a lie. Rubbish, hogwash, baloney~! I’ve found the truth of the whom, when, and where; I’m just waiting on that precious little why to show itself.”

“Well, how would you know?” You huff defensively.

“Great question, always question your sources,” He praises with that familiar teaching tone he saved for students, “You see, the role of Sage of Truth is a great one, bestowed to me by the witches themselves and manifests its power in the form of my soul jam. Now, since a little cookie like me is tied to such a big idea like truth, I’m privy to a few little details most cookies can’t see. The truth sings to me through my soul jam, and your little lie did anything but resonate with me as truth. Also I saw a cookie leaving my lecture in a hurry yesterday in an archivist icing with your frosting features, so the longer I look at you, the more sure I am that my hypothesis is correct.”

It’s over. You’re through. You can kiss your job, your research, maybe even your degree goodbye, all because you were the idiot who convinced yourself that lying to the Sage of Truth was a good idea

The words start spilling out before you can stop them, instinctively leaning into damage control with your speech, “I…all I’ve done is attend a few classes, I-I’m not some creep-“

The Sage hums in reply, “Yes, that I am also certain of. You only seem to have any interest in my lectures, which I will say, is quite flattering to hear that someone regards what I teach as so intensely intriguing that they resort to such secretive methods.”

“…I’m sorry…it won’t happen again. I won’t disturb your lessons anymore…and I’ll accept whatever punishment the administration deems appropriate for me…”

His iced brows raise at that, seeming surprised by the notion, “Disturb? Punishment? Now, what on earthbread are you apologizing for? You’re not in trouble.”

“…I’m not…?”

“Of course not. Why would I fault someone for seeking out knowledge? It’s exactly what I stand for.”

You blink at the Sage with thorough confusion, “…because it’s against academy policy for employees to attend lectures?”

“…are you serious?” He deadpans.

“…yes��?” You hesitantly reply.

“…that is the stupidest rule I’ve ever heard of. I just assumed you were were too shy to come into class in earnest when I clearly left the door open for you, but the Parfaedia Institute policy is the real obstacle in this case?”

“Wait, the door was open for me-?”

But it seemed the Sage of Truth was far from done with his tirade, blinded by passionate frustration, “Staff at an educational institution should constantly be committed to extending their knowledge to pass onto the next generation which they teach, yet how on earthbread do they expect their staff to continue to learn and grow as educators if they can’t even attend a lecture! Just the principle of barring someone from the truth for such a foolish reason is absolute nonsense! I’m truly sorry that you’ve had to endure that. Craving the truth is as natural as existing, and it’s not right to have that stifled by stiff procedures by crumbly old cookies.” He huffed with a righteous glower.

“Wait wait wait…you’re sorry for me??? You’re not going to report me and get me fired?”

“Fired??? They’d really fire you over this? Witches, that explains the secrecy. No, I am not reporting you, though I will be having a stern debate with the headmaster, that’s for sure.” He replies.

“Please don’t, really it’s no issue. I-I was going to stop listening in after today, and I don’t want to cause you any trouble, Sage.” You reply quickly, already imagining all the ways the higher ups would phrase your letter of dismissal.

Yet the cookie only waves his hand dismissively at you, “Nonsense! It is a crime to see such brilliant budding minds tossed aside and criminalized for their curiosity. You have the makings of a great cookie; I couldn’t help but take a small peek into the research drafts left on your desk, and these theories are really something worth pursuing, yet you’re not going to get anywhere with an administration like this.”

That had your head reeling, the Sage of Truth himself had read your drafts and believes they’re feasible? He thinks you’re brilliant?

“You…you like my theories?” You utter so softly, your eyes wide with that tentative hope so fragile a stray breath could shatter it entirely.

He seems to be tipped off the track of his tirade by your question, his fussy frown soothing into a gentle smile unlike the amused smirks you’d earned from him before - this seemed to be a more genuine mirth lining his iced features, and you’re not sure what to do with it. He takes your dough in his, gently clasping your hand with gentle reassurance, “Like them? They’re incredible. The key to true knowledge is often pretty small, and I think your research might be the linchpin that brings the whole puzzle together. We’re going to develop this idea to the fullest, because your concepts truly deserve to be heard.” He answers eagerly.

“We?” You echo, your eyes widening.

“Of course! Now, you can change your lunch period around easily, can’t you?”

You nod hesitantly, tilting your head a bit at the random question, “I…yes, but-“

“Perfect! I get off for lunch at 1:00, we can discuss your thesis further over tea. I really think we can finish this up in a few weeks before it’s ready to publish.” He grins, that eager tenacity returning to his gaze

“Wait…you want to help me with my research?!”

“Absolutely! This is just something I cannot miss!I noticed how you pulled some ideas from my own writings and teachings in class, and I’d love to be able to assist personally in your research…that is, if you’d allow it. I wouldn’t want to intrude if you’d rather be the sole author-”

“Yes!” You blurt eagerly.

He blinks at you curiously, “Yes, it would be intruding?”

“No no no! Yes, I’d love your help! It’d be an absolute honor to work with you, Sage!” You stammer out.

His smile widens at that, “Well then, I’ll be seeing you at 1:00.” He replies, beginning to approach the door, “Oh, and one more thing…”

“Yes?”

“No need for ‘Sage’ now that we’re research partners, call me Blueberry Milk Cookie.” He answers jovially before slipping out of your office.

By the witches, you were going to work with the Sage of Truth himself.

Or well…Blueberry Milk Cookie…oh witches you couldn’t wait until 1:00.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: So I took the liberty of making Sage of Truth’s real name Blueberry Milk cookie bc I’ve been seeing it floating around and it seems appropriate for him, also I hope it isn’t too OOC, I tried my best. There’s probably gonna be four parts in total for this one, so I hope you guys enjoy this one. Let me know any suggestions or ideas you have in the ask box, I always love getting inspo from ppl :)

[enderlovez]

Bloody

Spencer Reid x Vampire Reader WORD COUNT: 737

Summary: Doctor Spencer Reid is married to a vampire.

Content Warning: mentions of blood drinking, reader can go out in the sun but it's uncomfortable, reader has red eyes, reader is immortal and a few centuries old, brief mentions of murder and stalking

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

Spencer's not entirely sure how he ended up in this situation in the first place—you clinging to him like he's an oversized teddy bear—but he knows he wouldn't want it any other way.

Having a hungry vampire with her face pressed right up against his jugular should be enough to have him cringing away. And admittedly his pulse is racing, but for an entirely different reason, as his fingers absentmindedly draw shapes on the soft, exposed skin of your hip.

If someone had told Spencer three years ago that he would be happily married to a vampire he would have laughed in their face.

Yet here he is, holding his beautiful wife in his arms, and he can say for sure that he's never been happier.

How the two of you met? Well, that's something for another day, but to make a long story short, you found him while he was seconds away from being stabbed in the back of the neck by a psycho stalker.

"You awake?" he asks in an almost inaudible voice. Spencer feels the faint brush of your lips against his neck as you nod, leaving the softest of kisses against the delicate skin. It makes a shiver run down his spine, and he knows you can hear the increase of his heartrate.

Though you don't make any noise, he can feel the cool air on his neck as you let out a silent chuckle.

"Still hungry?" he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, his fingers pausing their tracing for just a moment.

You pull back slightly, your crimson eyes peeking up to meet his hazel ones, glinting faintly in the dim light. There's a softness there, a warmth that doesn't quite match the traditional tales of your kind, and one that only Spencer can see.

"Not for blood," you reply, voice laced with teasing affection. "I'm more interested in the genius who's letting me hog all the blankets, even when he knows I don't need them in the slightest."

Spencer lets out a soft chuckle, brushing a loose strand of your hair back behind your ear. "I think 'genius' might be overselling it. Most people would call this situation irrational, maybe even reckless."

Neither of you mention how nobody would even believe him, if he were to tell then he's married to a vampire.

"Most people don't know you like I do," you counter, resting your head back onto him, this time on his chest. "You're not reckless, Spencer. You're... curious. And kind. That's why you didn't run when you figured out what I was."

He smiles faintly, the memory of the night you met briefly flashing through his mind. It wasn't every day you met someone who saved your life and then casually admitted they'd (technically) been dead for centuries. "I'd like to think the profiling helped with that," he jokes.

"Oh, definitely," you tease, drawing lazy patterns on his shirt with your pointer finger. "Nothing screams 'trustworthy' like a man reciting the statistics about violent crime to a vampire."

He laughs softly, and you join him for a moment, the sound mingling in the otherwise quiet room. Spencer's laughter fades as his eyes drift back to yours again, his expression growing thoughtful. "Does it still bother you?" he asks gently.

You know what he's referring to without needing clarification—the sunlit mornings he spends alone most of the time, the quiet ache of being different, the things you've done to survive.

"Sometimes," you admit, your voice quieter now. "But being with you makes it easier. You remind me that there's light, even for... someone like me."

Spencer leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "You're my light, too," he says softly. "Even if you do steal all the blankets."

You smile against his chest, your pointed teeth peeking out ever so slightly. "I think I'll keep you around, Doctor Reid. You're pretty good at this whole 'marriage' thing."

"Good," he murmurs, holding you tighter, "because I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."

"I think it's more like you're stuck with me," you correct gently, "you know, considering I'm the predator in this scenario. You're my prey."

His fingers resume their movements on your hip. He doesn't say anything, know that one way or another, you'll find a way to counter anything he says. Being alive for hundreds of years has made you good at things like that.

[blackened-angel]

I'm personally not looking forward to the Netflix adaptation of Devil May Cry.

With the new trailers, I wanted to share my opinions again but I will say that this post isn't recommended for those who only have praise and that any criticism is forbidden.

It's a pretty long post where I try to explain what is my main problem with the adaptation and that is the person who is directing it.

I highlighted some parts that I hope you can at least read those ones, but if I were to give you a TL;DR it would be this:

If you want to make an adaptation based on an IP that's been around for a while, even if you proclaim that you're fan, at the very least be modest and try not to cause trouble with your audience, given that you're supposed to be a professional in the industry and perhaps trying desperately to please everyone isn't such a good idea because you might be hanging with the wrong crowd and that will reflect on your image.

Sorry but I'm not interested to coddle that guy so if that brief summary is enough to make you displeased, I'm asking you not to read any further.

So, will talk about why it's difficult for me to praise Netflix Devil May Cry. It's because of the person attached to it.

I've criticized aspects of this adaptation before and while the majority will get angry because the show hasn't come out yet, thus any criticism is invalid, personally, what I have seen so far has been enough for me to have a disdain for it because one of my favorite series is being handled by someone who has never done anything with it before.

Proclaiming to be a fan doesn't automatically mean that it will be a masterpiece and for someone who is allegedly a professional in the industry, their conduct reflects on the product and others that are involved.

Also, just saying, that I refuse to use the word "anime".

Pseudo-anime perhaps but I'm sorry, DMC The Animated Series from 2007, that's the only Devil May Cry anime. I don't see any 'bishounen'/ biseinen' . Have you?

Anime, to someone like me who has been into anime and manga for two decades, is animation produced in Japan, primarily for the Japanese audience, with aesthetic that is different from Western animations.

So yeah I'm just gonna say Netflix DMC.

Ok, so, let's return to the subject, but first, I want to ask you and of course, you can provide examples because from my experience, I haven't seen anime studios acting so desperate like Shankar.

Please tell me if you have seen anime studios on their social media accounts being so friendly with people?

At most, there are some who on some occasions retweet fan creations like art or cosplay but in general they just post information regarding what they are producing, trailers or key visuals, but they don't engage much with the audience.

They are just working on the stuff they want to deliver to their audience, hoping they will enjoy it and look into feedback afterwards.

How many anime studios have you seen bragging like Shankar has been doing?

He actually said on Twitter "I never miss."

Oh and on a few occasions, this grown-ass man kept referring to himself in 3rd person, somehow thinking his fans will find it...cute? Yeah, so it was more like "Adi Shankar never misses."

It's obnoxious. You can tell me that he was joking, but he seems committed to his whole "I never miss with my projects" bit, so it's kind of hard to tell.

Oh and do you think it's also adorable when he reposted people's fanart without crediting? Even when some of them had watermarks?

Like I'm not kidding. If you follow him on Twitter, there were a few times when he was called out for not properly crediting artists and you'd think he'd stop after being told once but no.

In addition to that, one time when I was reading the comments on a reposted artwork, there were only two people that mentioned the artist while the rest of them didn't even ask things like "Hey did you draw this? Did the animation team do it?"

It seemed that even though they must have known it wasn't art made by Shankar or the ones doing the animation, they treated like it was no biggie if he was reposting.

As a professional, allegedly, he should have never done such a thing, but most of his followers seem treat him like "oh he's just enthusiastic, cut him some slack, don't be mean to him".

And we know that in general, anyone else who would do that sort of thing just once would get torn apart by others, but with that guy apparently we must be indulgent.

When caught in the act, he did apologize but like...shouldn't he know better? He most likely expects that everyone will forgive him for anything he does.

Thus, can you understand why I'm having a tough time to like something from that person? Who keeps bragging, promising the best anime ever, acting as if he invented DMC...

That's a person who is supposed to be a professional in the industry, yet he as only been acting like a redditor...And of course he promotes a lot of memes. Gee, I wonder who's the intended audience?

He's been desperately trying to please everyone.

This is why I like the way anime studios conduct their promotion for their projects. They are humble and want to avoid causing problems t and that's why they generally just post information, artwork, trailers etc..

That's something I personally appreciate.

Shankar has only been off-putting...Honestly, what the heck was Capcom thinking?

Apparently he wanted Dino Crisis, but Capcom was like, have DMC instead. It feels like they were saying "yeah do whatever with this IP, doesn't matter", as if DMC isn't popular, which was proven by the popularity poll they hosted.

I feel like this adaptation is mostly for the people that know DMC just from memes and I'm sorry for the long time fans that will most likely get insulted and told to shut up by the people who will only watch this generic Marvel/DC looking animation and be told that DMC is only good because of Shankar or think he should be in charge of other Devil may Cry projects.

So yeah, to me, above all is that narcissistic man who has been trying so hard to please everyone.

No, I don't think it's endearing when he spoke in 3rd person and claims that he never misses with his projects. I did not find it cute when he went on to say stuff like Vergil is a hero and other bullshit, because some people would believe those will actually be the characterizations in the show, only for Shankar to post something like "I'm joking, I'm just a troll" after those kinds of posts, wanting to gain sympathy from people, to see just how much of a fun guy he is and you must definitely watch his DMC "anime".

We already had the reboot that was supposed to appeal to the Western audience because Capcom thought the original series isn't appealing to westerners, but man were they wrong. Still hate it for the fact that they mocked the OG series and here we are again, another production that's mostly for the western audience.

So yeah, I'm just not a fan of how much that man has been boasting and assuring everyone how great the show will be.

Perhaps, for some of you, it will the greatest "anime" ever, he keeps telling you that! But not for me. I don't appreciate the shit I've seen him do on Twitter done and as much as he brags that failure never happens for Adi Shankar, not everyone is of the same opinion.

If it turns out that it might fail the expectations of those who only praised, what then? Will they keep praising despite being disappointed so that the series keeps getting content, even if it might be the same quality or even worse?

I think that will send the message to the bigwigs that those people are willing to consume anything.

Like I've mentioned thought out the post, I personally would have appreciated humbleness instead of someone trying so desperately to please everyone.

I'm not sorry for what I said and I know there must be others who share my opinions.

If you have made it this far, I thank you!

[change-name-later]

I am done. I am calling this thing done. I know this isn't perfect. It could definitely be better. And I am by no means a draftsman. This is just me with my silly little screenshots trying to make sense of the layout. And now if I wanna draw/write about the inside of the cafe in the future for whatever reason. I have reference of where everything is at.

This was supposed to be a small project meant to give reference to others that didn't want to rely on screenshots alone. Or were like me and didn't have a way to access any fanmade maps. (I do not own gmod). But it's done, enjoy. With and without the screenshot references. As a treat.

If you guys had been following me for a while. You know just how much I had struggled working on this during my free time. However it became so much easier when I realized the square exterior was just a vague suggestion to how things would fit inside. That's for sure...

Anyhoo. Below the cut, you can listen to me crazily ramble on about the issues/inconsistencies I found while making this. But it's fine if you don't read and just want the references. The cut is just me specifically venting out all the slight insanity I felt making this.

Hey you're still here? Cool. Awesome.

So before I begin. Just to avoid any confusion. When indicating direction in the ramble below. I will be referring them in the way I oriented the map. For example, North is the entrance. South in the shelf selling bombs. Etc...

Main Floor/Cafe

1. The East wall has a door leading to the bathroom ("SMG4: The Inspection"). But it exists in a space that is not there.

2. The East wall also shows two windows on the outside. But only one window on the inside.

3. Both the backroom and hidden elevator are also are in a space that doesn't exist.

4. Speaking of the backroom. According to the concept sketch. There are windows on the West wall. Which, yes, should not exist. As we do not see any windows there from the inside. Unless they are being blocked by the shelves. Or those windows are just decorative stickers...

-Though I'm willing to give it a pass since we haven't actually seen that side of the wall in the show.

5. The front window's decal is not mirrored on the inside (this one is just a small nick pick. But something I couldn't unsee once I saw it).

Evil Lair/Basement

6. Past SMG3's bed (East side of room). There's a unknown area that turns off from the left of the entrance. With a solid wall immediately to the right. The tiles could mean it's a bathroom/kitchen area. But we don't see much more of it past the view from the doorway. I point this out because in "SMG4: You Used To Be Cool". There's a part where SMG3 shoots at the fireplace. Creating a hole and revealing a shower behind it.

-It's very confusing how you would get there. Because since there's a wall in the east room that could have lead there. The only other way to get there is the hypothetical space (shown in map) past the elevator to get to this shower. But again, this is not shown. So cannot be confirmed.

Anyways, that's it. That's the ramble. This project was more chaotic than I first thought it would be. And unless the official map comes out and I buy gmod to explore it. I am not touching this thing again.

[lightlycareless]

I was thinking about what would happen if like Y/N or Naoya somehow turned into like a younger version of themself for a day and the other has to look after them. I think it’d be especially cute if the younger version only had memories up to that age. Like all I can imagine is little Naoya all shy with grown Y/N not realizing that’s his future wife or maybe little Y/N feeling a little intimidated by adult Naoya or maybe even overwhelmed since he probably dotes on her too much lol

UHHHH THIS IS SO CUTE????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Also, I had to rewrite this various times because I wasn't sure how to begin!! Like I had the idea, but I just couldn't translate it into words; but, here it is! Which I hope will be to your enjoyment :>

Warnings: fluff. you and naoya turn into kids but in different occasions. who knows if they happened in the same timeline lol. there's also references to other works which I will link once I update the masterlist. :') but you're always welcomed to search in my prompts tag.

Happy reading!

On one hand, we have a young Naoya that at first, doesn’t believe there’s a girl like you walking around the estate. And secondly, that the two eventually marry… in the future? Your relationship is somewhat explained to him; whatever he could understand it anyways…

But it still doesn’t make it any better.

It’s just—impossible! There’s no way he’d ever be with a girl that… that is so rude like you! Improper of the Zen’in standard!

Yet, makes him feel all warm up inside whenever you prepare his favorite miso soup, make sure that he’s well-dressed if the weather is too cold…or checking up on him between your duties, simply to see if he’s alright, if he’s getting adjusted to this temporary situation while reassuring him a solution will be found.

Something that was unusually done, without an ulterior motive, that is. Which instinctively draws him closer and closer to you.

And that’s without even considering your affinity for the same hobbies as him! Like watching anime, reading manga… Naoya couldn’t keep to himself anymore, he needed to know more of his supposed wife.

“How do you know all that?!” He exclaims, surprised by your vast knowledge in all his favorite series.

“Well, I had someone to guide me. An excellent teacher, actually.”

“Really?! Who???” Naoya breathes, growingly slightly jealous at the notion of someone else gaining your attention—guess that has always been the same.

“It’s you, silly.” You giggle, gently patting his head and making him blush. “You’re very passionate about these things whenever talking about them, how could I just ignore you?”

If the previous situations weren’t enough to warrant his complete devotion, this was. Because from that point forward he begins to follow you everywhere, but no longer with the intention of scrutinizing you—no; or learn more about the future the two shared, but rather, with the desire to impress you!

Naoya needed to hear more of lovely laughter, your warm compliments, and your bright grin whenever bringing you gifts—like those flowers he somehow knew were your favorite though you never told him (not in this age), but yet made sense for a pretty girl like you.

“I’m also a really good sorcerer, you know? I can protect you if you’re ever in danger!” Naoya proudly states, unwittingly making you laugh. “It’s true! There’s no one stronger than me!”

“Oh, I know you’re the strongest.”

“…And the most handsome one too.” He quietly adds, you smile.

“Perhaps, but you’re undoubtedly cute right now.” You then pinch his cheek, flaring his face even further before giving you a dejected pout, in disagreement of your words. “Ah, there’s no need to get upset—being cute is just as good!”

“No, as the great heir of the Zen’in I can’t be cute, I have to be handsome!” he protests. “Heir’s have to be strong and intimidating, command fear with every step I take!”

“And you’ll do just that, in due time. There’s no rush to get there.” You explain, shuffling the top of his hair. “Everybody is doing their best to get a solution for your situation, so why don’t you enjoy being a kid again? Not everyone gets a second chance like this one.”

“Because I don’t want to, I want—” he suddenly goes quiet, as if slowly accepting his face. Or perhaps still making amends with it.

“What is it?” you worriedly ask, leaning closer to him. “Is everything alright?”

“…Will you wait for me, then?” Naoya says, making you blink. “To when I grow up and become stronger, capable of protecting you and making you happy?”

You’re taken aback by his sudden declaration, a striking contrast from the unwittingly arrogant child that never missed a chance to show off and impress you… now doubting his own capabilities.

But you could see it in his eyes, even then, what you always suspected of him became true: Naoya longed to love, and to be loved. To feel important, cherished. That his life was more than just fulfilling his family’s expectations and obtaining power.

He wished to be part of something greater, and that proved to be a family with you.

A part of you aches knowing that, if you hadn’t met him, his destiny would’ve been vastly different. Stings understanding his childhood had been nothing short of lonely.

But what you weren’t able to do then, you’re capable of now. Given a chance to mend those pains, give him a sample of what’s to come…

Reassuring him that life indeed, gets better.

“Yeah, I’ll wait for you. So, do your best until you become just that!” you cheer, offering him your pinky finger as the definitive sign of dedication, which he intertwines with his own soon after. “But don’t keep me waiting too long, we still have lots of things to do together once you’re grown up, ok?”

“I promise!”

When Naoya eventually returns to his normal self, you expected everything to go right back to how it was. But much to your shock, he’s unusually… shyer. As if ashamed that you got to see the only part he wished to keep a secret from you.

Yet, his actions would soon disprove your assumptions, revealing that the truth behind his demure actions were nothing less that appreciation, gratefulness at your unwavering commitment to take care of him, even when he was nothing less than a wimpy child—a stage in his life only God knows how much he needed that. To be cherished.

Makes him realize how truly blessed he is to have met you, and share his existence with yours.

Even on his last day on earth, he’ll never forget that.

You, on the other hand, are the complete opposite—at least in the very beginning.

When Naoya was nothing short of a reserved, shy piece of work, you went ahead and portrayed a striking contrast: enthusiastic to know all about this cool, somewhat handsome man that diligent took care of you.

Sure, you were a bit confused (frightened) as to why you were surrounded by people you didn’t know since you essentially lived at the Zen’in estate by that point, but after managing to calm you down by the presence of your family and a quick rundown of what happened to you, you were nothing but glued to Naoya, always excited to know what he’ll do that day, what cool technique he’ll perform during training…

Or, of course, what sweets he’ll bring for you to taste. Mochi are your all-time favorite hands down, but you’re always open for other suggestions.

“Do you like these?” Naoya would ask even though the answer was quite obvious in the way you gobbled all the treats one after another, yet he still wished to know.

“Yes! I love them!” you nod fervently, grabbing another sweet, unwrapping it, and moving it into your mouth. “They’re my favorite!”

“More than taro mochi?” He teases.

“No, that’s impossible. Taro is the best flavor in the whole world. Maybe Ube too.” You state confidently, in such adorable way he couldn’t help himself from laughing. And naturally, making you blush. “What…?”

“Nothing, guess it’s good to know that you’ve always been this way.”  Naoya admits.

“How?” you ask back, tilting your head.

“Like… you.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“It’s perfect.” He smiles before winking. “But I’m sure you already knew that, little princess.”

“N—no…” you quietly answer, looking away in hopes of calming your thundering heart, but of course, that would prove impossible for the following days because as soon as he uttered those words, they were imprinted into your mind… leading you astray.

From a giddy, playful girl, you soon turned into a blushing mess whenever he was around, now quietly admiring him from afar instead of eagerly approaching as you always did. As if you’ve grown self-concious…

And this sudden change obviously caused Naoya to worry; fretting if perhaps he had done something to bother you, if not worse…

But all those worries disappeared the moment you finally gathered all the courage to ask him what has kept your thoughts busy these past few days: about the relationship you two seemed to have beforehand.

Eyes glistening with curiosity as you eagerly awaited his response, revealing to him the hopeless in love child he always suspected you to be, far beyond the Gengar-loving, mochi enthusiast everyone knew.

“How did we meet?”

“At school, Jujutsu High.”

“What did you think of me?”

“That you were pretty.”

“And what did I think of you?”

“…That I was bold.”

“Did you like me??”

“Of course, I still do.”

“Did I like you too?”

“Not at fir—yes.”

“How did you ask me to be your girlfriend?! Oh, did you bring me flowers and chocolates?!”

“Actually, it was you who asked me to be your boyfriend.”

“Huh??? I thought you were supposed to do that!”

And Naoya wanted to, but your eagerness and fear of losing him made you move first. Now that he reflects on it, it’s quite endearing.

“It’s a moment I hold dear to my heart.” He confesses. “And I know you did too.”

You blush.

“…And where did we go for our first date? Was it Disneyland?!”

“Not quite, we went to the mall first.” Or technically, the fair. You frown.

“What?” He chuckles. “It was a nice date.”

“I always wanted my first date to be at Disney…”

“I did take you for Valentine’s day, though.” Naoya says, fondly recalling the way you… appeared to have fainted at his revelation. Luckily, you remained conscious throughout your whole visit at the park to make it memorable. “And we’ve gone many times after, too. I always took you whenever you wanted.”

“Really?” you breathe, stars in your eyes. “Did you really do that for me?”

Oh, if you only knew how far he’d go for you.

“I even bought you that giant Gengar you’ve always wanted. Got you all the gaming consoles you can think of, with the newest videogames too.” He goes on, each and every word making your smile wider and wider. “And naturally, all the sweets you can eat. But not too many, or it’ll be bad for you. I’d say there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Yet, when he expected another question to follow suit, just as you’ve bombarded him these past few minutes, he’s welcomed by silence. A prominent saddened pout on your face as you seem to be… disappointed by his words. Or maybe the limits he’s had to place to your sugary addiction?

“Now, Y/N; it’s necessary for your health—”

“No, it’s not that.” You interrupt, shaking your head, before going eerily quiet yet again.

“Is everything alright, Y/N?” Naoya asks, worried at this point. “Does something hurt?”

“…I don’t want to be like this anymore.” You eventually confess, revealing the tears beginning to form at the corners of your eyes; it’s a sight that has his breath hitching to his throat, tightening his heart.

“Y/N—”

 “I want to grow up!”

“You will, we’re already looking into it, remember? There’s no need to stress about it.” Naoya attempts to reassure you, carefully wiping away the tears in your eyes that simply keep on flowing. “Just hang on for a little longer, I promise this will be over sooner than you expect.”

“But—but what if it doesn’t? What if I stay like this forever?!” you sob, causing something in Naoya’s heart to tighten. “I won’t be able to live all those pretty things again!!”

“Then I’ll just have to find whoever did this to you and turn into a kid myself.” His sudden words earn him a quizzical look from you, which he presses on with a smile. “That way we can experience all those things together again, like it was the first time.”

“Na—Naoya…”

“I promised we’d always be together, through thick and thin. Even if we turn into kids, or 100 years old.” Naoya continues. “So don’t cry, little princess. As long as you have me around, everything will be alright.”

The culprit is soon found after that, and you, with the work of talented sorcerers, return to normal.

However, as in both instances, you kept these new memories as a child—alongside a sentiment of nostalgia that hindered you from doinganything else that wasn’t being close to Naoya.

Such was your determination that it actually pushed you to do one of the things you least enjoyed, which was seeking him when busy, heading straight into the training grounds where you knew him to be at this hour—ignorant of who else was there—to pour your affection in a tight embrace and sweet kiss.

A demonstration that he doesn’t reject, though he is startled by it. Upon noticing your longing, Naoya promptly dismisses the rest of his entourage, before captivating you into his arms and deepening your gesture.

“What is the meaning of this?” He breathes, slightly flustered as he debates whether to lean in for another kiss or let you talk. Naoya choses the latter, he asked for an answer, after all.

“Do I need one?” you respond, a smirk appearing on his lips as you rest your face against his chest, pulling him impossibly closer to you. “…I just wanted to thank you for… taking care of me—No. For everything.”

“It’s my pleasure.” And duty, he once swore. “And I’ll do it again, if you want me to.”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” You give him a breathy laughter, looking up into his eyes. Remaining so, still, attentive to the gaze you fell in love with, before assessing your feelings yet again—your undeniable truth. “I love you.”

And Naoya smiles in response, placing a kiss on your forehead as he gives you the confirmation of what you already knew; for all eternity so.

“I love you too.”

This just made the two fall more in love with the other; also, when your kids eventually come along you can easily say "hey, they act like you!" and Naoya will no longer be able to deny it 🤣

As stated in the beginning, this was very sweet 🥺 Thank you so much for filling my life with a little bit of fluff—it's always necessary during these harsh times. Now I want to write domestic fluff jfc. Look what you have done... lmao 🤣

Anyways, thank you so much for sending me this ask!! I truly enjoyed writing it.

Now, take care and hope to see you soon!!!

[anim-ttrpgs]

I recently ran an oneshot for my friends in Eureka.

It was a lot of fun and went mostly smoothly! The charakter creation was very easy. It still took more time than I expected, but that was simply because the players needed it to decide on which traits etc. to pick.

The central resolution mechanic with 2d6 is of course tried and true (I assume. Never played one of the many other 2d6 games.) but especially the Eureka system felt really good.

I think I read in a recent post of your's, that you are overhauling the chapter on combat. That seems very important to me. Even though I read the whole book once before running the game, I had immense problems finding out how small details of the combat worked during play. The musings on game design (eg, "yes, the combat is deadly, thats on purpose heres why" and such) where really enlightening to read, but got in the way when searching for concrete stats.

I will run the same oneshot again for different friends. The game seems really promising to me.

My mystery took place on a single in game evening, and none of the players were monsters. Having therefore only scratched at the surface of Eureka, I am looking forward to running it more.

Woo! We LOVE hearing about this kinda stuff!

And yeah everything about how the combat-related rules are structured is getting overhauled. All of that was written like 2 years ago when I was a slightly worse game designer and MUCH worse at writing coherent paragraphs and hasn’t been touched since until now. Instead of being split across like four paragraphs (what was I thinking), there will be just two chapters on it: “Instruments of Violence”, which is mostly just a giant list of references for the stats and special rules of weapons and armor, and “Dangerous Situations”, which covers every rule related to how your investigators can get killed. Some of these clean-ups are already available in the latest patreon release, and the rest are coming soon to both patreon and the itchio beta.

Combat is a very rare thing in Eureka, but when it does come up, we want it to be tight and granular, but without wasting the players’ time, which I think we’ve done pretty well at.

Like the book says, combat is deadly and there’s a reason why: so it doesn’t waste the players’ time.

This is a twofold problem to solve. The first layer of it, we solved by making sure the numbers are low. Most weapons can take a character down in 2 to 3 hits, so a single instance of two guys smacking each other will never take too many rounds.

Secondly, well, combat is dangerous and deadly, and if the PCs approach it without a plan, they’re gonna die, or at least get their asses kicked fast. Otherwise, well, I consider that a waste of the players’ time. If it was predetermined that the PCs would win otherwise the story can’t continue, well, what did we roll all those die, look up all those stats, and track all that HP for? Why didn’t we just describe the PCs winning and move on? Combat matters because it can change the outcome of the adventure, and if it can’t change the outcome, why are you rolling dice? Of course with death being so possible, to keep it fun, we gotta include lots of “tools” like cover, positioning, different weapons, special melee attacks, etc. that the PCs can use cleverly to give themselves an edge, and *earn* their survival.

Oh and also yeah can’t wait to hear what you think about the monsters. Funny thing about that, everyone who has read the rulebook knows that monsters and other supernatural creatures are supposed to be really rare, like one supernatural person for every 3,000,000 normal people kinda rare, but, monsters are super cool and fun to play, and are one of the big draws of the system, so we were kinda worried that that rarity wouldn’t come through in play, everyone would just be monsters. We considered setting a limit on how many monsters can be in a party? But quickly decided against it, because then players would have to compete for the limited monster slots, and people might even feel like if they’re not filling in that slot every single adventure, they’re missing an opportunity, and so every party would max out their monster limit every time and there’d, again, be way too many monsters.

In practice, though, most parties in Eureka seem to be comprised of all normal people, or all normal people and 1 monster at most, even without the limit. And I suspect this is both because monsters are kinda difficult to play despite their immense power, and, just to brag, because we made the normal PCs fun has hell to play too. :)

[lifemod17]

@sillycartoonhozier @shortqueershakespeare @justjeansmain all tagged me in such sweet posts I'm going to cry brb 😭💛

Woe appreciation post be upon ye!!!

favorite writer: @pastlivesxpastlie @daydreaming-in-letters @padfootagain @lovenliterature <- yes, you! your poems are so beautiful okay?? all super talented and super kind souls, i have no choice but to stan!!!

favorite artist: @a-s-levynn @effervescent-fool @sillycartoonhozier @thatjeanguy @elkkiel @fivewholeminutes eternally grateful for all of the wonderful art that you share with us 🙏

favorite person in general: @tonguetyd loml frfr guys idk what to tell you, and after all she is the reason why i came back here on tumblr. i followed her to another platform no questions asked. what can i say, i'm a simp 💛❤️

favorite random people: @whataboutyouisamascot @polteergeistt @foundationsofdecay @songbirds-sweet @glitterghost @hysteriamachines @hozierawakening @raspbrrytea @dearreaders-things @doperunawaybarbarian always a joy to see these people on my dash/notes 🥰

favorite shitposter: @deprivedmusicaljunkie and @bubacorn top tier shitposters 😍

favorite act done by someone: valentine's day 2024, i had only been in the Sleep Token fandom for a few months and didn't really know anybody except Drift. (because of timezone differences) i had woken up to two asks in my inbox: one was of @melit0n who had drawn me pink tulips and put my real first name on the little tag on the flowers, which is extra dear to me because only few people call me that name and when they do, it warms my heart. the other was @fivewholeminutes who drew me the cutest litol guy tripping as a reference to 'Fall For Me' which is one of my all time favorite song. it meant the world to me because i was a nobody at the time, and here were these two kind folks who thought i was worthy of spending some time and effort to dedicate a drawing to 🥺

someone who just gives good vibes: @loveinthemindpalace the goodest of all vibes!!! such a sweet soul!!!

favorite url: @lesbeansoups that is just such a fun URL you cannot tell me otherwise!

someone i think is nice irl: @littlequeenofthemangoes i KNOW she's nice IRL, and so very precious!!

someone i’d eat 28 chilies for: @daredevils-advocate i would put all 28 of those chilis and make it into a nice sambal 💛✨

someone who listens to my yaps and yap posts: @shortqueershakespeare @shatterthefragments @tonguetyd no IRL yapping or online yapping gets ignored by them <3 also Patch literally said the other day he goes through my blog even if he doesn't understand what's happening whenever i yell about ST god bless

favorite reblogger: @moonchild-in-blue i always say it and i still mean it: i never want to live in a world without Darya's tags (not even solely on mine, in everyone's posts she reblogs! it's the best) 🌻🐞🐞🌷

sigma: BAL- nope i'm sorry wrong blog to continue that joke. @neonflavoredbees do not fight me on this okay ily and my answer is final

no pressure at all if you wanna do this too, this is purely just me wanting to spread some love. happy timezones to all 🙏💛

[denwritesandcries]

Like a Movie Scene – V.P

Pairing: van palmer x fem!reader

Summary: Van Palmer should come with a warning sign. She invades your life with her crooked smiles and stupid jokes and draws you into her orbit without even asking for permission, as if it were something destined to happen. Which, you assume, it probably is.

Word count: 7,1k.

Content: No crash!AU, cursing, mentions of homophobia (it’s the 90’s), friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, a little angst, shitty families, LOTS of movie references, the yjs being normal teenagers.

Note: Van is a flirty little shit but also a complete loser and we love her for that.

English is not my first language.

Van Palmer should come with a warning sign or at least a 'no returns' marked on the tag of her football jerseys.

You don't think it would have done any good, though. Van draws you into her orbit from the first moment you met, like a bright and warm sun; allowing you to exist steadily in her life even though, technically, she has invaded yours.

You suppose then, that you wouldn't have it any other way.

It's likely you guys would never have really spoken to each other if it weren't for a mix-up between your practice schedules and a stupid argument between your coaches.

You see, the track team – which you were part of – always had practice right after the football team, because Wiskayok High School barely had the structure to keep both a girls and boys football team running properly, let alone a decent space for the few other sports the small-town school offered. Your practices took place on the same days of the week and one after the other, always at the same time. It was the implicit rule: from 4:30 pm the field is yours.

Coach Martínez didn't seem to care, however, because there he was arguing with your coach. Since apparently football practice had run late and the girls just needed to train for an hour and a half.

Your coach wasn't having any of it – your time was already too short without these changes –, and now both men were in the middle of the field screaming in each other's faces while poor coach Scott tried to calm them down.

“Dude.” you recognize Natalie Scatorccio’s tired and rasp voice beside you: “They could just cancel and let us go.”

You and apparently most people there, if the expressions of annoyance and crossed arms were any indication, couldn't agree more.

"Right?" You said. “Look at them, you think they’re gonna fight?”

Nat let out an amused snort, “They’re going to eat Coach Ben alive, that’s what they’re gonna do.”

You would have said something else if it weren't for a third voice coming from right behind you:

“They're gonna kiss, look how close their faces are.” It was Van Palmer, the goalie, with red hair swinging in a ponytail and a smirk on her lips. She shook her head in mock disappointment and crossed her arms, pointing with her chin at the scene, “In front of us, kids? What a lack of professionalism.”

You choke on a laugh and her gaze snaps to you, her smile widening with something like satisfaction in her eyes. The attention made you nervous. You weren't used to interacting with Yellowjackets members other than Nat, who was easy to talk to and was your lab partner as well as sharing cigarettes at parties, meaning that talking to Van Palmer was a completely new territory.

You joke back insecurely: “At least you have real coaches. Ours is the art teacher.”

That made her let out an incredulous laugh and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel pleased about it. Like almost the entire school, you also had a crush on the Yellowjackets.

Your laughter died down just as Coach Scott ran across the field to the two mixed teams with the most genuine expression of exhaustion you've ever seen. “We decided to share the space," he says. And that's all. Your first interaction with Van: a conversation that lasted less than three minutes mocking your teachers. You would never expect it to evolve into anything beyond that.

It's strange trying to do your usual routine of running through the poorly painted banners around the pitch – which looked like it had never seen better days – with a game taking place just a few meters away from you and your teammates. The fear of getting hit in the face by a ball was embarrassing.

Yet, as you wait for the relay, your gaze tracks the girls in action. You don't know the names of most of them, but recognize Taissa and Shauna fighting over the ball at one end of the field, the confrontation seems a little too intense, which makes you a bit nervous and your eyes go straight to the nearest goal, coincidentally, is the one Van is defending.

You notice how beautiful she looks with her expression completely concentrated and hands resting on the knees, waiting to act. Shauna overtakes Taissa and kicks hard the ball towards the goal; Van grabs it as soon as she crosses the white line on the lawn.

A giggle escapes you as Shauna turns around in frustration and the ball bounces back into the field and Van and Tai share a wry smile. The goalie turns her attention away from the game for a moment to look around and you swear she's looking for something – or someone.

Your teacher calls signaling your turn and you leave your thoughts while you line up with some other teammates.

You can do your relay routine for exactly fifteen minutes before something goes wrong.

You run on autopilot, so used to it that it's practically a second nature, letting your gaze return to scanning the field with interest when one of the players tries to score again and Van throws herself against the ground to catch the ball with a stronger and clearly exaggerated movement compared to last time. You thought this would be a one-time thing, seeing as the way Jackie and Nat rolled their eyes at her from where they were off to the side blocking other girls, but it kept happening the entire time you spent running until it was time for your break.

You choke on the water you drink when you realize that Van is the one staring at you this time, hands resting on her thighs, face sweaty and red, as if she doesn't have a game to focus on.

Shit, you think. How are you going to keep your head in training now? You wonder what you would have done to get a Yellowjacket's attention so suddenly as you return to your line.

You resume your run at a pretty good pace despite the sudden nervousness, feeling a little more confident when you hear a loud “Come on guys, no one has beaten L/N’s time yet!” coming from your teacher.

And then you're approaching the curve flush with the football field, the curve that gives you the perfect view of the goal.

Van is there, of course, just throwing the ball downfield again. Van, who rests her hands on her hips and catches her breath when Coach Scott blows the whistle and tells that her team won the game. Van, who turns around just in time and sees you approaching. Van, who removes a strand of red hair from her face that has escaped the ponytail and gives you a malicious toothy smile. Van, who winks at you. Van, who makes you fall. Literally.

It's all so out of nowhere, so suddenly that your heart misses a beat and you miss a step, tripping over your own feet as if your legs forgot how to work properly, falling in the middle of the curve and getting in the way of your colleagues further back in the lanes next to your side

Shit. Holyshit. Fuck. You just fell in front of the entire football team.

One of your friends bends down next to you to help and asks what happened, you blame the laces of your sneakers that untied when you fell because any reason is less embarrassing than what actually happened.

Your knee is bleeding and one of your arms is scraped, so the coach decides to have pity and leave you on the bench until it's time to leave. You make your way there with your ears burning and your head down.

If Van had any kind of interest in you, it definitely disappeared after that.

You remain alone on the bench, avoiding looking anywhere for a long time until Misty Quigley appears at your side with things to bandage your wound and you happily let her fill the silence with whatever she wants to say for the next few minutes.

Your night is spent tossing and turning in bed over the shame you've experienced and the next day as you walk through the hallways, the possibility of the goalie talking to you again doesn't even cross your mind as the first classes go by like a blur.

And then you're at your lunch table waiting for Nat to show up to talk like she usually does when she doesn't disappear around school, but after a few minutes a head of red hair takes over your vision instead of the usual dyed blonde.

“What’s up?” Van is sitting next to you, with the same crooked smile and her cheek propped up in a fist.

“Uh, nothing much really.” You have no idea what is going on; she is sitting with you, smiling at you and talking to you. Why is she doing this? You can feel a few other people's eyes on you through the interaction.

She introduces herself, even though you already know who she is, holding out a hand for you to shake – they’re rough, you notice, with calluses adorning the fingers –, probably just so you can introduce yourself too. “I’m Van,” she says. And that’s it.

She’s been Van since the beginning. Not Vanessa Palmer or the Yellowjackets goalkeeper, just Van. She says it so matter-of-factly that it would simply sound wrong to call her anything else.

You engage in a conversation about anything and everything after you introduce yourself – just your nickname too. You assume Nat already told her your name at some point yesterday – speaking as if you already knew each other, and somehow it doesn't feel weird.

Your eyes end up focusing on a black-haired girl crying at a table on the other side of the cafeteria with another girl a little smaller than her. You don't know either of them, but you know that they are both on the main team too.

“Hey,” you point with your chin: “What’s up with her?”

Van finds the source of your attention and raises her eyebrows, “Oh, you mean Mari?”

You answer with a simple nod of your head and that's enough for Van to invade your personal space with a devilish expression and a mischievous smile.

“She had a bad break up.” Van says and you tilt your head at her.

“But was it that bad?” You arch an eyebrow, “People don’t cry in such full places over nothing.”

Van moves a little closer to you and lowers her voice conspiratorially, as if she’s telling you a very important secret: “She were dumped," and then a dramatic pause, “For the guy’s half-sister.”

"What?" Your jaw drops completely and Van nods her head.

“Lottie told me, she knows about these things.” Ahe rests her face in her hand again, “She said she caught them kissing at her last party, Mari must have known.”

“‘The fuck?” The shocked look you give her only seems to amuse her.

“Oh, she's crying right now but boy, she was mad as hell in our math class today.” Van blows an exaggerated raspberry, “I bet she'll end up coming up with an absurd plan to get revenge and burn down his house just like in She Devil if the story spread.”

It will definitely spread, you thought.

An unexpected giggle escaped your chest – you might have felt a little bad for talking shit about a girl you didn't even know later, but not now – and your gaze found Van's face again.

“Yeah.” You start, “Except she was replaced by the guy’s own sister– half-sister, whatever, instead of a famous writer.”

Her face lights up completely as she speaks, bright green eyes like those of an excited puppy.

“You like that movie?” She asks.

“I love that movie,” you correct, “It’s iconic and Meryl Streep looks good.”

"She does.”

This seems to completely cement Van's interest in you, because she continues to sit with you at lunch for the rest of the week. When Nat finally shows up, she arches an eyebrow, but doesn't question it.

You and Van get closer in a surprisingly short period of time, but the way she seems to settle into your life is gradual and your silly little crush on the goalie seems to get stronger without even realizing it. Waiting for your lunches in the cafeteria, conversations in the hallways, glances exchanged during physics class – since you sat too far away to really talk – and the exchange of silly words about movies you like.

You have the habit of going out for a run every weekend in the morning – it's not easy to keep the best time in the routines, after all – and one day you decide to change your route by pure coincidence to a longer one that ends up near one of the trailer parks in the city; the fact that Nat mentioned one day that she’s neighbors with a certain teammate has nothing to do with it.

It surprises you that Van is awake at 8 am on a Saturday, but you find her – by pure coincidence, nothing more than that – outside a sad trailer watering an even sadder small garden. When she sees you, your hair is a mess and breathing is a little out of step, and you give her an awkward wave as you catch your breath. It's the first time you've seen each other outside of school.

“You’re stalking me now, weirdo?” Her crooked smile tells you that there's no real bite behind it.

"No," You place your hands on your hips, kicking some loose pebbles on the floor with your sneakers. Yes, you liar, “I always run around here, how come we’ve never seen each other before?”

Fuck it, you think. If Van can just show up for you because she wants to, then you can do the same.

She seems happy to abandon her garden chores when you ask her to go for a walk and she agrees to make you company once there’s no running involved; a walk, because no one deserves to be running around like Rocky Balboa at this time of the morning.

You walk together side by side through the neighborhood with your shoulders brushing against each other as if you've done this many times before, Van whistling a random tune carelessly.

Talking to her when the initial nervousness passes is one of the easiest things you've ever done and you find yourself enjoying and listening to everything Van tells you. This potential friendship – maybe more. Maybe, just maybe – it's the most fun thing that's happened in your year so far.

Your walks together also become a habit after that. You just come back the next day and Van is there with a smile on her face, so you keep coming back and she keeps smiling.

You also start walking home after school. Neither of you have a car, so why not?

You crave her company and she craves yours, you stay for Van's training and she stays for yours – no one else on the teams has the energy to complain about exaggerated movements or stumbles on tracks – and then when you're ready, you head off to your ways together and it makes your heart warm every time.

Everything about Van just makes you want to know her even more; the way she gestures with her arms and declares with the utmost disgust how she keeps distance from any musical that isn’t animated – “But you only watched Cats!” “And that was enough!” –, they way she tells you about how she and Taissa are watching Sabrina the Teenage Witch every Friday, or how she makes fun of any weird thing Misty said during practice that week.

You listen and absorb everything with an stupid drunk smile on your face, letting her entwine your arms and chatter to her heart's content.

Keep talking, you want to say. I love your voice, seeing you happy makes me happy. Keep talking, keep talking, keep talking.

You invite her to your house for the first time under the pretext of studying, after she throws herself on the chair next to you with a tearful expression during physics class.

“I’m gonna fail,” she whines, banging her head dramatically against the open notebook on the table, “The teacher hates me.”

You start teasingly: “Maybe he would hate you a little less if you actually paid attention in his class.”

"I do!" Van protests. “It’s personal, he must think I’m strange or somethin’ and lower my grades for it.” She crosses her arms with a pout and a roll of eyes.

“Of course." You agree with an exaggerated nod, “And you, yourself, are strange and unusual.”

“Yes!” She exclaims, ignoring the looks she attracts, “But that’s not the point, don’t quote Beetlejuice to me now, woman, this is serious.”

“Oh, wow, okay then.” You shrug.

Van looks at you before resting her head on the table again. She seems so hopeless that you give in.

“Hey, c’mon,” you say, letting your hand rest on her hair and stroke it gently: “You can come to my house today. I’ll help you study for the next test.”

Van's shoulders tense suddenly and her head snaps up so fast it makes you jump back.

"Really?" Her eyes are wide, face as red as her hair: “I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

That's strange. Van is usually the one who makes you nervous, not the other way around.

“You won’t bother me at all,” you reply without giving it much thought, “There won’t be anyone at home anyway.”

And then there's silence, Van's face turns impossibly redder and after a second of confusion, you understand.

You just invited Van to your house. Alone. There is an innuendo there. Several possibilities that neither of you will mention, but that you both know are there.

Your face starts to heat up, so you clear your throat and stutter a confused “Are you coming then?”, because you can't let her realize what you just thought about.

Van responds with a squeaky “Okay, sure." and hurries back to her usual seat when class finally begins.

When you adjust yourself in the chair and think about finally releasing the breath you didn't realize you were holding, your gaze finds Lottie Matthews staring at you three seats away with her eyebrows raised. Shit.

Lottie says nothing, just wrinkles her nose contemplatively and faces forward, but she knows. She always knows. You feel your hands sweat and shake with nervousness at the prospect of becoming the new school gossip like Mari last month. The queer who fell too hard for a Yellowjacket only to get it wrong and ruin everything.

You shake your head. No, Lottie wouldn't do that. You weren't exactly friends, but she’s not mean, there was no reason for her to mess with you, your thoughts were just talking too loud. Plus, it's not like she actually saw anything. You didn't do anything forbidden. Friends go to each other's houses all the time. Your crush is not obvious.

That's stupid, you think, it doesn't matter. But you don't really believe it. Yes, it matters, at least in this little town at the end of the world.

You just hope you don't end up crying in the cafeteria too.

There is no training that day, so as soon as classes are over, you leave school together and make your way home. For the first time, the silence is awkward and makes you feel bad for making the invitation the wrong way. Maybe Van just doesn't swing that way and you made her uncomfortable somehow. It's a possibility; you're not exactly in the closet to the rest of the school.

Still, the way her hand brushes against yours gives you hope that this isn't the case.

When Van enters your house, the first thing she does is look around.

“Wow,” she begins. “Its really…”

“Small?” You complete, feeling somewhat conscious. Your house wasn't a trailer, but it wasn't anything compared to the houses of Van's cool friends. Definitely nothing like Lottie or Jackie.

“Empty.” She corrects.

Huh. It's true, your house was praticly always empty, not only because your parents spent as much time as they could out of it, pretending they didn't have a kid to still take care of, but also because of the lack of furniture and personality. It didn't seem like a cozy place to a family live. As a whole, it could be really lonely most of the time. Van seems to have noticed this with a single glance.

You choose to ignore the comment, suddenly thinking that this might end up becoming too intimate. In a vulnerable way.

When Van enters your bedroom for the first time, she gives the place the same curious look as the rest of the house, but her jaw quickly drops.

“You got a TV in your room?” She sounds completely shocked.

“Yeah.” You snort in amusement, “My uncle runs an appliance store, he fixed one that no one picked up last summer, so now it’s mine.”

Van still looks very impressed as her eyes roam the rest of the room. Your bedroom was, perhaps, the only place in the house where someone actually seemed to live. Posters and photos adorned the colorful walls and it seemed like every little thing in the room was directly a part of you, from an old stuffed animal on one of the shelves to the small pile of messy clothes on the chair next to the study table because you weren't planning on receiving no one to remember to put it away.

The tension from before seems to be dissipating and you can see from the expression on her face the exact moment Van notices your small VHS collection up ahead.

“Okay. That's it. We're only hanging out here from now.”

And that awkward moment passes completely.

In a matter of minutes you both are comfortable in your bed with books and notebooks spread around, after convincing Van to start studying with the promise that she could choose whatever movie she wanted for you to watch when you were finished.

Van seems to dedicate herself twice as much, eager to fulfill the agreement and the hours pass quickly as she understands the concepts you explain about the subject and then all you have to do is say that it's time for a break for her to jump out of bed with a smile from ear to ear and choose a movie.

She puffs out her chest holding the tape in her hands and proudly declares that you're watching Jurassic Park and you don't even think to question it when you return the smile and takes on the task of making popcorn.

Van ends up leaning against you throughout the movie, reciting all the lines from memory along with the characters close to your ear – she knows all of them – and your heart remains racing with blood rushing in your ears until she leaves.

The two of you keep hanging out at your house again and again, just like she said it would be. Sometimes you study or watch something together, but most of the time Van simply keeps you company while you do your chores around the house, following you around like a puppy while you cook or do the laundry. Your home has never been so fulled or welcoming.

You go home after classes and practice – occasionally with Nat in tow – and stay together until it's late and dark, every now and then you say that she could just sleep over as a joke, but she never accepts it. You gulps the pang of sadness and rejection each time it happens.

And you guys talk a lot. You've never been so delighted to hear someone blab about anything.

Van spends days talking about how excited she is for summer while helping you chop the things for dinner. She and Natalie always get jobs together and she’s dying to buy a car – “You’re the runner here, lady, not me.” –, an old dark green pickup truck. She shows you the leaflet with a smile so proud that you don't have the courage to admit that you thought the thing was horrible; she tells you about how she wears the clothes of her older brother who apparently left town as soon as he finished school while helping you fold the freshly washed clothes, some of her own included.

It's so domestic that you wonder why this didn't happen sooner, depriving either of you of a routine together like this for so long seemed mean.

One night you’re sleeping soundly when you are startled awake by a loud knock on your window and you turn to find a face pressed against the glass. You almost have a heart attack.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Van!”

She's standing there with a pout and big eyes, pointing at the lock and you consider leaving her outside for the fright she got you. One look at the alarm clock on the table next to the bed tells you that it's already past 2:00 am.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice rasp and tired from sleep, letting her come in, but only because you don't want her to get a cold outside.

Van sneaks into the room, suddenly shy, playing with the hem of the oversized t-shirt she's wearing and avoiding your eyes. She gives you an awkward smile.

“I was just wondering if we could have that sleepover today?”

She looks upset. Something happend. Something that upset her enough that she decided to run to your home in the middle of the night.

“Van,” your expression softened, worry flooding your voice, “Are you okay?”

“Yep.” She clicked her tongue, still not looking at you in the eye.

Okay, you won't get anything out of it then. Van likes to talk, but not when it comes to problems like this. Problems at home.

The thing is that you and Van have a lot in common, like your dubious sense of humor and your love for movies, but are opposites in many others; the main one: where your house is always empty, hers is always full. Full of people who take away the smile that you always try hard to keep on her face.

“Okay." You sigh, taking her hand and making your way to the messed bed, “Let’s get some sleep then.”

“Oh.” She looks even more embarrassed, her sweaty hand in yours, “I can take the couch or the floor. I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m sorry.”

You let out an outraged huff. “You run to my house, climb in through my window, ask me to have a sleepover and now you want to sleep on the floor?”

She drags her feet on the floor, “...Yeah?”

You choose to ignore her answer, practically dragging her over to the bed and making her lie down. When she does, Van moves to the other side of the mattress, clearly trying her best not to disturb you, but in a fit of courage and exhaustion, you wrap an arm around her and press her against your chest. She lets out a squeak of surprise at the action.

“Go to sleep, Van.” You mumble against the back of her neck, burying your face in her thick hair.

Her body is still tense against yours, but Van allows one hand to rest on the arm you keep around her waist.

You lose count of how long you spend lying awake in silence cohabiting in each other's space, but when you wake up in the morning, Van is still asleep, her hand never leaving your arm.

You guys don't talk about it and you never find out what really happened to make her feel so bad that day, but Van shows up more often to stay the night. She never tells you when she's coming and you get scared every time when you hear the knocking on the window – you swear she does it on purpose, that little smartass.

You realize that you really love her, not just as a silly high school crush, in the middle of a hot May. When Van makes you stand in the line at the cinema ticket office for two and a half hours and miss the day of school to get tickets to watch Jurassic Park - The Lost World. Because if you saw the first one together then you should see the second one too, obviously.

You're sure you wouldn't put yourself through this for anyone else – but don't let Natalie know that.

The whole situation feels a lot like a date and you try to ignore the anxiety that washes over you as you rummage through your closet for an outfit that you think is good enough for the night. The way Van's jaw drops when she looks at you when she meets you at the front door makes the effort completely worth it.

She spends the entire movie almost bouncing in her seat with excitement and swearing at the parts that don't make sense. Because apparently the movie is also really bad, even though she's so happy watching it, and you manage to be bold enough to hide your face on her shoulder during the “scary” parts and leave your head resting there until the end.

You're not proud at all to say you spent seven bucks on a squeezy dinosaur for her on the way back, but it's your senior year, damn it, let the girl have fun with her silly toy before college.

You go back home – ‘home’ you think now, not ‘your house’. Your home. Your home with Van. – with her ranting about special effects and scenes you don't remember because you spent more time looking at her than the screen and you end up on the balcony before you know it.

“That was so good.” Van is just inches away from you, looking at you with bright eyes full of happiness; your hands are sweaty, so you put them in your pockets so she doesn't notice.

“Yeah, it really was.” You return with a playful smile, “Even though you convinced me to spend hours under the sun for it.”

“Hey!” She protests, moving impossibly closer, “What would the experience be worth without a little effort, huh?”

“Sure.” You giggle.

She's so pretty, you think. Hair down and a black jacket draped over her shoulders, looking at you as if she actually saw you. Knows you. I want to kiss her.

“You had fun today?” Van asks, unable to avoid the small tone of doubt that escapes her voice.

I want you to kiss me, you think.

“Yes,” you answer instead, “Yes, I did.”

One night Van simply comes in through your window and you don't even react anymore, leaning into her body under the covers.

“You gotta stop coming in through my window,” you grumble.

“Then stop leaving it open,” she huffs, “Someone might break in, you know that?”

You can feel her smile against your neck and you're about to fall asleep again when you hear her voice whispering:

“You’re gonna go to my games, now that we actually have a chance to go to the nationals, right?”

“Of course,” you mumble with a comforting pat of her hand on your stomach, “I’ll be the first one in the stands cheering you on. You’ll be embarrassed of me.”

Van buries her face in your shoulder, “Good.”

You get sick the exact same week that her last game until the nationals happens, lamenting the stupid flu that left you feverish and stuck at home for days.

You can't go to school and Van can't come to see you because Coach Martinez has increased the training routine as the team advances in the championship. You assume it must be really tiring because Van doesn't show up at night either. It's embarrassing the way you can't sleep properly without her.

The worst of all: you lose Van's game.

You resign yourself to spending the afternoon on the couch brooding in remorse until you hear a knock on the door.

Coming across Van's sad face with her clearly trying not to cry was not what you expected when you opened the door, knowing for sure that you would only be greeted later – probably after a victory party – with excited screams and bright little dog eyes asking for help to pack her bags.

"We lost." She says, eyes glued on the carpet.

“Oh." You say stupidly, “Oh, dear.”

Your voice seems to turn a switch inside her, because Van lifts her head to you with her lips trembling and the next moment you two are on the couch with her practically sprawled on your lap and crying. Crying hard. You've never seen her like this before.

You hear something about Jackie hitting the post at the last moment as she sobs, but what seems to make her really upset are the balls she couldn't save during the game. Like it would’ve make difference.

Comforting was never really your strong suit, you can't say you're really upset that the Yellowjackets lost, the idea of having Van so far away from you even for a few days didn't please you at all. A bad feeling in your chest told you that something could go wrong.

“Well,” you run your fingers up and down her back, “You know one good thing about this? We can go to Homecoming now.”

Her breathing hitches, but if Van notices how you say 'we' instead of 'you' she doesn't say anything.

She's on your lap, nose close to yours, eyes swollen with tears but with the same look from that night at the movies, the one that makes your hands sweat and leaves your heart weak.

Unlike the movies, however, she kisses you. Like, she actually moves forward and kisses you.

Her lips are wet and soft against yours and you tilt your head to pursue them only for her to pull away with a panicked expression.

"I'm sorry!" Van exclaims, scooting toward the door as if her skin had burned: “I’m sorry! I– I shouldn’t– I’ll see you at school.”

And then she leaves. You don't even have time to react, she runs out the door and gets into that horrible pickup truck – which she had parked in the driveway for the first time less than two weeks ago, wanting to take you for a ride to celebrate the purchase – and you're left standing in the doorway like an idiot after the car disappears from your vision, as if you were waiting for her to come back – you were.

You don't see her at school for the rest of the week. She doesn't show up in class or practice and she certainly doesn't show up at your house, Van is avoiding you and it's so obvious that you feel like crying the entire time you're there, trying to catch a glimpse of her through the halls.

Fuck. You knew this would happen, that you would screw up and make the person you care about the most hate you.

You huff in frustration, letting your head fall against the table feeling someone's gaze on you, someone who isn't Van.

Lottie Matthews isn't skipping physics class, she has no reason to be, so you shouldn't have freaked out as much as you did when you looked up and saw her towering over you next to your desk.

“Shit–” You gasp, jumping back in your seat and almost hitting her chin.

Lottie tilts her head, completely unfazed, with a look of false innocence and curiosity on her face. The look of someone in search of an information.

The vision of Mari crying at the beginning of the year comes back to your mind and a shiver with a line of sweat runs down your spine. Oh no.

“Did you guys break up?” She asks and it's the last thing you expected.

“What?”

Lottie sits next to you, smoothing her skirt over her legs, completely at ease.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she starts with an anxious air, “But please do 'cause I really want to know.”

"Know what?" God, your head is already hurting from this conversation.

Lottie seems to realize that your confusion is genuine, because she stops and frowns at you.

“Didn’t you and Van break up? I thought you were together.”

What the fuck?

"...No? We’re not?”

“Are you asking me?” Lottie arches an eyebrow, also confused.

"No." You clear your throat and roll your tense shoulders, “We’re not.”

“Oh,” she doesn’t seem to know what to say after that, strangely disappointed – just like you.

The period passes with the two of you in an awkward, resigned silence and as you're leaving, Lottie follows you down the halls, attracting glances as you pass by, which was the last thing you wanted at the moment.

“What now?” You sigh.

“I think you should talk to her and sort things out.” Lottie says, “She seems so sad lately, without her usual sparkle.”

You could understand where Lottie was coming from, seeing Van upset was truly heartbreaking, but you couldn't help the bitter pang in your chest. She ran away after the kiss, not you. The kiss she gave you.

“She’s hiding from me." You admit begrudgingly, “Where else could I talk to her, anyway?”

“In the Homecoming, of course!” Lottie nods at you sagely, as if couldn't be more obvious.

“Of course.” You agree, because, the hell, why not?

The Homecoming is on the weekend, the same weekend the team was supposed to be away for the nationals, which must be why the girls are there, to try and lift their spirits.

You recognize Jackie talking excited to Taissa about something near the tables at the back of the gym, next to a grumpy Shauna with a glass of punch in a hand and the other placed on her waist – in a definitely more then friendly way –, but no sign of of Van in sight.

You end up outside with Natalie, smoking against a wall, as always happen at every party you're at together. She's telling you about how she saw Jeff and Randy with a bottle of liquor before coming in and that they would probably baptize the punch, you both talked about ratting them out to one of the teachers in charge after sneaking a few cups and you probably would’ve done that if Lottie hadn't joined you – coming from who knows where – to ask for a cigarette too.

Nat joked about how it probably wasn't like the expensive brands she seemed to prefer at her parties, but she handed one over without a hitch and the three of you sat there, looking up at the dark and starry sky for a moment.

“You haven’t seen her yet?” Lottie breaks the silence, casually breathing in the smoke.

Nat looks at you sideways and all you do is shrug, not wanting to admit the defeat.

“You should try it near the stands.” She declares.

“What are you, a psychic or something?” You scoff, but go anyway because like Van said, Lottie knows about these things.

She is there. Of course she is. Sitting in the stands staring out at the empty field, wearing a light blue suit with a white shirt and a matching shiny tie that you have no idea where she could have gotten, because there's no way her mom would have let her buy it.

Van notices you approaching by the sound of your footsteps on the ground, her head turning to watch you and for a moment you're afraid she'll run away again.

She doesn't, so you approach, trying your best not to run towards her.

“I gotta quit smoking soon,” you say, stepping on the cigarette your hand was holding and making an overly dramatic effort to sit next to her with heavy breaths, “Or I’ll end up being kicked of track ‘till year is finished.”

Van snorts, “Right, Ponyboy Curtis.”

For a moment it's like anything hasn’t changed between you both, you bet that if you tried with conviction you could almost pretend that nothing had happened. Almost.

“You ran away from me." You say.

“I did.” Van lowers her head, quietly. Embarrassed. You’re not sure of what exacly.

"Why?" You ask, because that's the question that's been running through your mind for days.

“I–” Van looks away from you, “I thought you wouldn't want that.”

“And I thought you knew how much I wanted it." You say and Van lifts her head to stare at you with wide, hopefully eyes, “What do you want, Van?”

Her jaw drops and she looks like she was expecting everything but that, her hands twitch on her thighs, as if she wants to reach you.

“You look so beautiful right now." She sighs softly before steadying her voice, “You look so beautiful that I want to kiss you again.”

"Do it."

And she does, hard and desperate, crushing her nose against yours, as if she's hungry and can't get enough; you wrap your arms around her, hands touching her with the same need.

The lack of air is too much, so Van pulls away from you to immediately start distributing quick kisses down your neck, as if it could all disappear in a second, becoming confident when you tilt your head to grant her more access and only stopping after the hiss that you let go because she bites.

“So…” she laughs nervously, “What now?”

"Now?" You’re out of breath, “Well, can we go back inside and help Nat steal liquour to screw with Jeff and Randy or…”

"Or?" Van arches an eyebrow in amusement.

“We can go home and I can show you how much I missed you.” You shrug, casually tightening your hands on her waist.

“Hm,” she pretends to think about it, “I guess I like the first option better.”

Van laughs at the sound of your offended squeal and avoids the slap you try to give her shoulder.

“Careful, baby,” she intertwines your hand with hers, “I’m gonna start to think that you love me.”

“Oh, you better know that.”

You pull her by her stupid shiny tie and kiss her when she laughs again and let Van guide you to that hideous truck staggering laughing through the crowd of students.

Yeah, you think. I wouldn't have it any other way.

[animalsalvationassociation]

[ DO NOT REPOST, ALL ART & CONCEPTS WERE MADE BY ME ]

✨ Old Design ✨

Professor Emma (Em) Jade

Species: Maned Wolf

Accent: British (Born in South America, raised in Britain)

Role:

Zoologist

Animal/Forest Activist

Cofounder of Safari Solutions

Agent of A.S.A.

Relations:

Adopted Daughter of Captain/Professor Samara Jade & Professor Marin Kelp

Kwazii (Boyfriend)

Freya & Voyager (Best Friends)

Abby, Trench, Slye, Max, Cardamon, & Prof. Inkling (Samara’s Team, First Gen of the Octonauts, helped raise her)

Director Peggy Scratch (Old Friend of her Mom’s, Fellow A.S.A. member)

Professor Cornelius Chaplain (College Mates)

James (Jim) Lanagan (Kelp’s Assistant, Friend)

Captain Barnacles (Old Friend)

The Octonauts (Friends / Family)

Her Team Family:

Harley (Right Hand, Head Engineer)

Slye (Resident Getaway Driver/Dendrologist, Former member of the Octonauts)

Atticus (Wildlife Biologist/Medic)

Amarri (Environmental Biologist/Professional Diver)

Alannis (Tracker/Geologist)

Bandit (Apprentice/Medic in Training)

Personality:

Level Headed/Reliable

Follows her gut to get things done

Cares deeply about the environment and the people affected by it.

Mama Bear/Big Sister

“Touch them and you die.”

She seeks the thrills life

Sometimes that gets her in a bad spot.

She really needs to step on the breaks once in a while.

Kwazii’s Yang

They’re so alike yet completely different.

Natural Jokester

Pretty casual too

Not much bothers her

Always the one to say “jump”

Emma dedicates her love to the safety of others

Sometimes that means she sacrifices herself in the process.

Chaos Queen~

Emma’s “Feral” Side:

As of recently, it’s proving harder and harder to figure out what kind of Emma you’re going to get that day. Where before, you usually would get the silly, quick witted, older sister figure. The woman who was always making people smile, and lifting them off their feet. But nowadays you can only see glimpses of that past. Most of the time she’s agitated in some way, always on her toes as they’d say.

It’s getting more difficult for her to seize control of situations. Missions are growing more dangerous, there are more stakes involved. She’s no longer the laid back jokester, but now a control hungry conservationist. It’s not a win if the bad guy gets away.

This “feral” side I’m referring to, is a state of being of which Emma has begun to slip into during high intensities. As if she’s forgotten that she’s meant to be saving people, saving the forest, not hunting men and putting them behind bars. She’s forgotten her “humanity” (in a sense ofc).

The earliest we see of this side is in, “It was Emma all along”.

Her eyes are sharp, ears pinned back. She’s breathing heavily. Something painful has just happened to her yet she has no control of her body. All she’s focused on . . . is her victim. That’s not Emma behind those eyes . . . it’s something else. Something otherworldly. Something . . . carnal.

[ “Everyone has their days . . .” / “Kwazii Headcanons” / “For any of your Oc’s” / “Who was behind the assassin?” / “Who is the strongest member of the A.S.A.?” ]

(Emma is a very complicated character and it’s hard to explain just in words what she’s like without showing you through my drawings and context from the story. So above I listed a couple of posts where her portrayal shows through, if only a little.)

I think it's fitting that Emma was my 200th post. By complete accident mind you. I didn't notice until I was literally about to post this. Em has been with me for two years now which is honestly astonishing. I never imagined this blog growing as large as it is now in just the year and a half that it's existed.

At this point it's become a passion project. I've literally abandoned all of my novels, my other fandoms, just to see this story through to the end. It's an honor to have gotten this far, thank you. Really. And I mean all of you, because this wouldn't have happened without any of you supporting me along the way. You're all so amazing, I can't express how grateful I am to be here now.

200 Posts, 335 Followers, and a whole lot of love.

Thank you.

~ MR

Digital Illustration Time: 4hrs 39min

[ This is a Octonauts AU, in no way is this canon to the OG storyline. ]