#and this whole “actually posting instead of just lurking” thing

[ko-existing]

https://www.tumblr.com/ko-existing/787662538590584832/do-you-ever-grieved-for-the-dream-once-you?source=share

how so?

You're "grieving" because there's still misidentification happening — a sense that you, the person, are watching something meaningful slip away. But if it’s really seen that it was never real to begin with, not even for a second, what’s left to grieve? It doesn't matter if you use the words 'illusory''. It doesn't mean you see it like that.

It’s like realizing a shimmering oasis in the desert is a mirage. Once you see clearly that there was never any water, do you walk away heartbroken? Of course not. There’s nothing to mourn because there was nothing there. Just like you wouldn’t wake up from a dream where you were famous or in love or flying and grieve it the next morning — it was a passing appearance. It never had weight. It never actually happened.

The phrase “I grieve the illusion” sounds poetic, but it doesn’t make sense when it’s seen clearly. If the world is illusory and the person is illusory, what is grieving what? It’s just thoughts looping on themselves, trying to find ground in something groundless. The grief arises only if it’s believed something real was lost.

But here’s where a big misunderstanding shows up for a lot of people — especially if they’re just reading and reading without truly seeing it for themselves: they start thinking I’m saying you should feel nothing, like you should become some robot or mountain monk detached from all emotion, sitting silently in the Himalayas next to a snow lion or something. That’s not it at all.

Look — feelings come and go. Happiness, grief, laughter, joy — they appear, they stay a while, and they subside. That doesn’t mean they’re “real” in the solid, lasting sense. They’re just part of the play, like weather passing through an open sky. No one needs to suppress anything. No one can — because there’s no person doing it to begin with.

I mean, just yesterday (actually not even 24h ago) I found a rare jacket I’ve been wanting for months, and I was grinning like someone who solved a centuries-old math puzzle. If it had sold out before I could grab it, I would’ve been devastated. That’s how it plays out sometimes. It's all spontaneous and planned at the same time. One big Paradox for no one experienced by no one. The difference is: none of that touches what 'I Am'. The joy or devastation is a movement within the field, not evidence of a solid “me” living a life. "Awareness" isn’t being stoic or detached. It’s not a monk. It’s not a robot. It’s not even something you become. It’s simply what is — beyond description, yet effortlessly present.

So — PSA for everyone, not just that anon — stop turning this into some mental maze. People message me all the time saying “I’m so sad my family isn’t real,” or “so if I’m real and the world isn’t, what’s the point?” But that’s not it either. That’s still personal identity trying to survive by splitting reality: “I’m the special one and the rest is fake.” No. If one thing is unreal, everything is. If one thing is real, everything must be. It’s not pick-and-choose. This is total. Either the whole dream is a dream — or none of it is.

And yes, it can be very simple. People don't believe that when I say it didn't take me long. They ask, “Then why does it take others years?” How would I know? Go ask them! Maybe they keep reading instead of seeing. Maybe they overcomplicate. Maybe they want an experience. I didn’t. I wasn’t even lurking on Tumblr or endlessly scrolling. I just stopped and looked.

So stop thinking reading will save you. You’re not trying to collect information — you’re trying to notice what never stopped being here. And for that, no books, posts, or teachers can do it for you. Just look.

[mega-wonsz-rzeczny-9]

Amazing webcomic!

The "tag in tag out" AU

https://tagintagout.webcomic.ws/comics/1/#content-start

I'm pretty sure that the creator is also on Tumblr, but I found out about this so long ago that I can't remember their name.

Spoilers below!

Regardless, I really love this comic! It's about Loop coming back looking exactly the same as Siffrin. He wants to help them talk to the party, but they refuse to reveal who they are, so they both decide to switch the role of "Siffrin", which leads to many shenanigans. (There are small differences between the two, mainly their eyes, so as the reader you know who you're looking at.)

Right now only the prologue is out, but it looks incredible, and I find the premise very interesting.

[thewandererstories]

I still try to arrange the thoughts in my head but one thing I kind of dislike from the moment it was presented and I still dislike now is the deux ex machina script with armand’s director comments. I think we can do just fine with Daniel being an investigative journalist and digging the truths out in those last moments of the interview. It’s just too blatant of a nod to the tv universe amc is attempting to develop and I get that the rights to what essentially is anne rice’s literary body must have costed them a pretty penny but I don’t have to like it. I know it’s the tiniest thing to get hung up on but I prefer it when great tv gets to be self-contained and not having to wink at some external franchise.

[doubleedgemode]

@followers/whoever reads this: Please feel free to metaphorically wallop me if I say an absurd badly-reasoned take about the series, and also correct me. Thank you

[yourstrulyamelie]

Part 1 of 𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡 𝘼𝙩𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

Summary: A therapist is assigned to help August Walker, but breaking through his defenses proves frustrating. He meets every question with deflection and flirtation. As tension builds, she wonders who’s really unraveling—him or her.

Pairing: August Walker x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Future smut, tension, and banter

A/N: hello!!! this is my first ever story that i'll be posting on tumblr. enjoy!

The office is silent except for the steady ticking of a clock on the wall. The late afternoon sunlight filters through the window, casting a soft glow across the sparse room, wrapping it in a warmth she secretly welcomes. His sharp blue eyes lock onto hers, sending a shiver down her spine—just like every time he sat across from her, that familiar glint of mischief lurking beneath his gaze. A faint blend of jasmine, aged paper, and something unmistakably masculine lingers in the air—his cologne, she’s certain of it.

She straightens in her chair, notebook open, pen tapping idly against the page. Across from her, the CIA agent, August Walker, lounges like he owns the place—legs stretch out, one hand tapping lazily against the armrest as if this whole thing bores him.

She breaks the silence first, “You missed last week’s session.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. Thought I’d do you a favor. Didn’t want to bore you with my lovely personality.”

She doesn’t react to the joke, instead she continues, “There’s a lot we need to talk today.”

"Go ahead. I’m enjoying the view," he replies smoothly, his gaze drifting from her lips, down to her chest, before settling on her bare legs. She knows that look. Knows the way his eyes linger a second too long. Today, she’s wearing a crisp white blouse tucked into a form-fitting knee-length skirt. It isn’t the first time she’s caught him stealing glances, and he doesn’t even bother hiding it.

She wills herself to stay still, trying to ignore the heat creeping up her cheeks. Instead, she swallows and his smirk deepens—because of course, he notices. He always does.

She exhales. “How have you been sleeping, August?”

His lips curl into something amused. “Straight to the pillow talk, huh?”

She doesn’t catch the bait. “That’s not an answer.”

“I sleep just fine.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Fine?”

“Fine.”

She doesn’t buy it. “No nightmares?”

August clicks his tongue. “You know, you have this bad habit of asking the same question in different ways. Feels a little desperate, doc.”

“I wouldn’t have to repeat myself if you actually answered, August.”

His smirk widens, lazy and knowing. “Maybe I just like hearing you say my name.”

A long heavy silence stretches between them. This therapy session—like all the others over the past month with him—feels like a game of cat and mouse, an endless loop of avoidance. No progress. No breakthroughs. It shouldn’t be this difficult, she thinks. She’s good at what she does. This isn’t her first time handling a damaged agent. The bureau hired her for a reason, it is because she fixes people like him. And yet, August Walker remains an enigma, slipping through her grasp like smoke.

How can she help him if he refuses to let her? If he keeps dodging her questions? If he challenges her methods at every turn?

Eventually, she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We’re not doing this today.”

“Doing what?” he feigns innocence. “Having a normal, healthy conversation between two consenting adults?”

She meets his gaze, unamused. “Dancing around the real topic.”

Resting his elbows on his knees, his voice dropping just slightly. “What if I told you I’m not much of a dancer?’

“I’d tell you that’s a lie.”

He lets out a short laugh. “Alright, you got me. I’ve been known to move my hips pretty well, under the right circumstances, of course.” His eyes flicker to her lips for the briefest second before returning to her gaze. “Care to test the theory?”

Another warmth creeps out to her cheeks but she ignores it once again, trying to compose herself straight. “This isn’t a game.”

He leans back, stretching and exhaling dramatically. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Another silence, a short one this time. The tapping of her pen on the notebook is the only sound in the room. She continues, “You deflect when things get uncomfortable.”

“Or maybe I just don’t like being predictable,” he counters smoothly.

The gears in her mind turn, searching for the right question—one that might finally crack his defenses, even just a little.

She studies him carefully, noticing how the sunlight catches in his blue eyes, making them seem even sharper, even colder. How his tall broad frame dominates the space, making the room feel smaller, making her feel helpless. And God, she hates that. More than anything.

She tries again, “Do you want to talk about the last mission?”

“Not particularly.”

“Do you think about it often?”

He shrugs. “I think about a lot of things.”

Giving up is not in her dictionary. She keeps pressing. “What about what happened in Paris?”

He exhales through his nose. “I think I liked it better when we were talking about my dance skills.”

“You can’t avoid it forever.”

“Watch me.”

With those words coming out of him, her patience is fraying. She shifts in her seat, adjusting her posture. “Why are you fighting me on this?”

“I’m not fighting,” he replies, but then he tilts his head. That familiar playful glint appears in his eyes. “Though, if you’re offering—”

She shoots him a warning look.

He grins and just like that, she’s hit with one of those infuriating moments where she hates him because he looks annoyingly attractive. She can see his dimples. He continues, “Come on, doc. You don’t really want me to spill my guts here. You like this little game we play.”

“This isn’t a game,” she repeats, firmer this time.

“Then why does it feel like one?” he studies her now, gaze sharper. “You push, I pull away, you try to break down my walls, I make you blush instead.” He leans in slightly, voice low and smooth. “Starting to think you might enjoy the chase.”

She feels her pulse quicken and hates that he can probably tell. She mutters before standing up. “You’re impossible.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Where are you going?’

Avoiding his gaze, she smooths out her skirt. “Excusing myself.”

His smirk is back. “That flustered, huh?”

She doesn’t regard him with a response, turning on her heels and heading toward door. The second the door shuts behind her, she exhales sharply, leaning against the wall.

Damn him. Damn his smirk. Damn his voice. Damn his annoyingly handsome face. Damn his stupid porn moustache. And damn the way he makes her wants things she has no business wanting.

my first story ever!!! let me know what you think 🙂‍↕️

[letteredlettered]

Hey! I really enjoyed reading your comments on feedback and fanfic this week and would love to get your input on something similar-ish I’ve been struggling with. I’m recently back on Tumblr (lurking) and writing fanfic (secretly) after quite a few years away from fandom spaces. I’ve never posted my work on AO3 before but I’ve been considering pulling that trigger lately. I’d love to share my writing with anyone else who might enjoy it and admittedly I do dream of finding some community by putting myself out there like that. However, so intimidating to put myself out there like that. Do you have any advice for someone thinking of posting their fics for the first time? Anything you wish you knew before posting yours? Truly any perspective you can share would be very much appreciated :)

I posted my first fanfic probably about 24 years ago, so I don’t know if I’m the best person for these questions, but I’ll address what you’ve asked. At length, it seems.

1. I guess the first thing I’d say is search elsewhere than AO3 to fulfill your dream of finding community. As I said in this post, AO3 was built as an archive for community that already existed, and it doesn’t have robust community-building tools.

2. I’ve tried. I have literally posted fics partly to ask where the discord was, a question I have put in the A/N that was eventually answered but not without numerous follow-ups. I have often posted my tumblr handle in A/Ns, asking people to come scream with me about a fandom. While a flattering number of folks over the years have sent me asks and chats saying they really liked my fic, there have been striking few who have come to scream at me about the canon.

This is my fault, not theirs. I’m bad at starting conversations; I’m of an unsocial, taciturn disposition unwilling to speak unless to say something that will impress the whole room. But I am also a pretty popular writer, and I have made precious few connections this way; I think it should tell you something.

3. To fulfill your dream of finding community, as I said in the above-linked post, I don’t actually have great solutions. Since discord is basically hidden, the only way I know of to actually find community is to start cold-messaging people you vibe with through asks and chat on places like tumblr.

4. Re finding community through writing fic, @reads8hoursperday made an interesting addition to that above-linked post here, pointing out that in the journaling days of fandom, it was very common to write fics in the comments or even on your journal. They didn’t get archived and in that way were effectively ephemeral. While it’s nice to have a permanent archive, they were pointing out that the permanent nature of AO3 contributes to the feeling that there is some kind of status associated with fic.

One way to a) deal with nerves posting fic for the first time, b) shatter the feeling that your first fic must accrue beaucoup stats, would be to post on one of the other platforms first. If you post somewhere like discord, it feels less like a presentation and more just like part of a conversation you want to have: hey, what do you think about this fic? Is it good? Does it need work? Should I post to AO3? The folks there can help encourage and cheerlead you to post somewhere more intimidating, like AO3.

But okay, you also said you wanted to share your fics, and AO3 is an excellent place for that, and imo, the best, so here are some further ideas about how to post fic on AO3 without feeling like you might die of stage fright:

5. Title your fic something you would want to read. Write a summary for your fic that would make you want to click on it. Do not title your fic something you think the most people will click on. Do not write a summary you think will entice the most people. Giving your fic the title and summary that would attract you is setting up the expectation, for yourself, that this fic is for you, and maybe, a little bit, readers like you—instead of for a big audience that will accrue the most stats.

I say this as someone whose fic summaries have been endlessly mocked and derided. I’ve literally had people come into my comments angry at me because my summary wasn’t “eloquent” enough to let them know my fic was “good” and so they “missed out” on reading it for far “too long.” It’s a wild world out there, let me tell you.

But my summaries have also been complimented. They have been what made someone click. In the end I’m putting this out there for someone who likes what I do, and it’s been really liberating to say to myself, “You know what? I would read this. And the people who wouldn’t? Maybe they’re not the readers I’m interested in.”

6. I think setting both hopes and also setting expectations around that kind of audience—an audience who wants to hear what you have to say—rather than stats, is important. Ultimately, if you’re writing to be popular, or to attain a certain number of comments or kudos, you’re going to be disappointed. But if you’re sharing what you’ve written because you want to reach people who like what you have to say, if you don’t get comments and kudos, then the problem is that those people haven’t found you, not that what you have to say is worthless.

And I think bearing that in mind can soothe a lot of the heartache around posting a fic that doesn’t do well.

I posted a fic in a fandom that was new for me two years ago. It was the juggernaut pairing in a megafandom, the kind of fandom where even new authors get over a hundred kudos and a decent number of comments. But my fic was a little darker than what seemed to be the norm for the pairing on AO3; it didn’t have porn, and it didn’t have a very strong plot with an ending.

This fic tanked, stats-wise. But my conclusion is that the people who would’ve liked this fic didn’t see it, or even that the people who would’ve liked this fic aren’t even in the fandom, because they saw how much fluff there was on AO3, or the canon is too light-hearted for them. I didn’t conclude my writing sucked or that it was a bad story. Some people might think that! But what I told myself was I just didn’t find my audience.

You might say it’s easy for me to say that because I am a pretty popular author who does have an audience with most other things I write. I would agree I am a very confident writer, but I do think, even if you don’t have my kind of confidence, going into it knowing that not everyone’s going to love it can really help.

7. Relatedly, I think that loving what you’ve written, working on it and editing it and creating something that you care about and adore, something that is exactly what you want, can help with feeling proud no matter what. You might think that if, then, you don’t get a lot of comments and kudos also adoring it, it can feel demoralizing, and it can. It can definitely feel that way.

But there is something really liberating in creating a thing that makes you happy. And if you honest-to-god wrote something that you love, I guarantee someone else will love it. They might not find you on AO3, which can be really disappointing. But think of how many times you’ve loved something strange or unusual you thought no one had ever even thought about before, and then you read a book or saw a post or a video and realized there was a whole world out there that loved it too. There is a whole world out there, and they’re there for you. You’re sending a signal out there to the world. Maybe it can really touch someone.

8. Since I’m suggesting that the trick is really “finding your audience” some people conclude that what they really need to do is market their fic, really sell it to people, link it every chance they get, beg authors they like to read it, etc. I really recommend against this. People will think it looks gauche, but who gives a fuck what they think. What’s really detrimental about it is that if you go hawking your wares like that and you’re still not getting the attention and validation you’re craving, you’re going to be even more disappointed, and it’s going to feel really bad.

I’m not saying “let the universe do its work,” or anything mystic. Fic does require a certain amount of signal-boosting so people know what’s out there. Certainly, post a link to your fic on tumblr, mention it in discord, tweet it on bluesky, or wherever. My wife even tells me I have to reblog my fic posts on tumblr a few times so people don’t miss it in their feed. All of that is fine. But if you are giving your whole self to “finding your audience” and you don’t find it, it’s going to leave you raw and unwanted.

9. All right, so you’ve written the fic you love and you’ve prepped yourself for the idea that you’re just looking for readers to love what you love—and yet, somehow, you’re still concerned about stats. Don’t beat yourself up about it. Almost everyone is concerned about stats. It’s impossible not to fret over it in this economy environment.

People think I must never be concerned about getting a little kudos because I get a lot. I really think people think there’s some kind of popularity threshold where people must feel they have “arrived,” where they no longer care about being popular. I’m not sure where they are getting this idea. It’s just not true. Everyone wants praise and attention; they don’t stop because they get it.

So yes, I think about stats. I think about them a lot, and you probably do, too. That’s okay. Here are some more things you can do:

10. Set expectations around this too, and set them very, very low. One thing that people don’t understand about expectation-setting is that it requires some real time and imagination. Don’t just tell yourself, “I’m going to get two kudos” and that’s all. Imagine your timeline. Imagine looking at your fic’s stats. And imagine how you’re going to feel when you see that stat.

For instance, if I imagine two kudos is all the attention my fic will ever get, I don’t imagine that one minute after I post, I’ll see it got two kudos. I imagine that a week later, I will be looking at my fic, and I will see that it has two kudos. I check in with myself--how does it feel? A little disappointing, maybe. I thought more people would read it. What will I do next? Maybe I’ll go out for a fun coffee with my wife. Ah, it’s not that bad, really. It’s too bad only two people kudos’ed it—but in the end, it wasn’t the end of the world.

Now, imagine I set my expectations at two and I got three kudos—well, that feels spectacular! And if I get my two kudos, well, okay, maybe it feels a little worse than I imagined, but it’s still not that bad. But imagine if I was expecting five and only got two—I think I would be crushed.

11. I will make this a separate point because I think it’s important—really, imagine how your email will look. There’s a thing we do with our phones, where we get hopeful someone has messaged us, or we get hopeful that there will be something new for us, that someone will have paid attention to us in some way. Then we look at our phone and there’s nothing for us. It’s crushing. The chemicals in your body cause your whole being to plummet. And then the next time you look at your phone they cause you to anticipate, to get tense and stress again, and then when your phone has nothing for you, you’re that much more depleted.

You are putting your body through a roller coaster. Many people’s solution is not to look at their phone, but I don’t actually think this is a great idea for many people, because they will fail. They will fail, be crushed by whatever attention they didn’t receive on their phone, AND they will feel bad that they failed to stay away from their phone.

Meanwhile, if you say to yourself: what am I hoping to see when I look at my phone? What can I realistically expect from my phone at this moment? How will I feel when I see it? What will I do after that? Then you can manage these expectations much more easily.

12. Relatedly, I would suggest you have an activity planned that will start the moment after you post your fic—an activity that takes you away from your computer and, if possible, your phone for four to eight hours. Going to the cinema is a great idea for a few of those hours, because most people are really able to keep their phone off for the duration. I like to go out with friends after I post a fic, but I am not someone who really looks at her phone during social engagements.

I remember once I posted a fic and went directly to an anti-Dobbs protest; the friend who had informed me about the protest and met me there was a fandom friend. She said, “Did you really just post porn and then come to a demonstration about the right of a woman to choose?”

I said yes. This is the best way to do it. So here is my final advice: post on AO3 and then allow people with a uterus the right to choose.

[darrycurtisismywife]

Little Curtis brothers headcanons

I just made a post about little Darry so know I feel like making a post about headcanons on all the Curtis brothers as kids. I say all but this will mainly be Darry and Sodapop.

Darry used to be really scared of the dark, so he would either have to spend the whole night with the lights on, sleep in the same bed as his parents or his brothers, or his mum or dad would have to stay with him with the lights on until he fell asleep.

Sodapop was scared of the dark for a little bit but not as much and only sometimes, but he quickly grew out of that. The only times he was scared was when he heard Darry crying a lot, because he felt that if his older brother was scared off something, then it was serious, and there really should be a reason to be afraid. Other than that, he actually finds being in the dark calming, and it helps him fall alseep faster.

Ponyboy was also only somtimes scared of the dark, mainly when Soda or Darry was, because by the time Pony was like five, Darry still hadn't fully grown out of it, it was like a phobia. It was a chain reaction of kids being scared that their parents had to put up with, and sometimes they would all just sleep in the lounge together as a little sleepover, or at least the brothers would all sleep in Darry's room together and they would be fine. As Pony grew older, the only time he would be scared was when one of the other gang members, mainly Two-Bit or Dally would tell him a scary story.

When getting told off, Sodapop would almost always start crying immediately, and it would be full on bawling his eyes out. There are many headcanons of Soda being a little crybaby and I one hundred percent agree with that, it is pretty much canon. The telling off would turn into comforting little kid Soda and reasuring him that what he did wasn't that bad, and it was an accident or not his fault.

Darry wouldn't cry that much when getting told off, unless it was very serious when he was younger. He wouldn't really do anything or say anything and people sometimes mistook that as Darry not caring about what was happening. In reality he really did and would feel really guilty. When told by his parents, "We're not mad, we're just dissapointed," that would usually be when he broke down because he hated it since he didn't want his parents to be dissapointed in him.

Ponyboy didn't get told off that often because Darry would usally take the fall for him.

The name Darry came from when Soda was first learning to talk, Dary would sometimes play with him and try to teach him some words, including his name. Baby Soda couldn't say Darrel so he would say Darry instead and Darry loved it since he took it as Soda trying, and eventually everyone started calling him it.

Soda and Darry did the same thing with Ponyboy when he was learning to talk, playing with him and trying to teach him new words. When Ponyboy said Soda for the first time Sodapop was so happy he cried which caused Ponyboy to cry because he thought something was wrong.

When Ponyboy first started school he would be bullied for his name so eventually when he first met people and no one else that knew him was around he would lie and say that his name was Darry because he liked his brothers name a lot better and was sometimes jealous of it. When his family found out about this they had a long talk and Darry and Soda spent ages talking to Pony about how they loved his name, and the next day at school Darry defended Pony to be the kids at school.

Darry got into a fistfight at school once and got suspended for a week but he didn't care because he was protecting his brothers form more bullies

When Mrs Curtis was baking something all three of the brothers would lurk around the kitchen trying to steal some scraps when she wasn't looking. She was always looking and would hit them with a wooden spoon across their hands when they tried to steal some cholocate chips and cookie dough. One time she hit Soda too hard and made him cry so she had to give him some so he would stop, and then had to give some to Pony and Darry so it was fair

When Ponyboy started school he was really shy so Sodapop sat with him at lunch and introduced him to some people. Darry had showed him around the school and told him which people to stay away from because they were idiots

Whenever the family was going on a walk and they passed someone with a dog either Mr or Mrs Curtis would have to ask the owner if they could pet the dog and they would stay there for about five minutes so the kids could pet the dog. Sodapop would always be sulky when they had to move on.

They all love animal and would go insane whenever they see one. Especially Sodapop.

When Mr Curtis was doing some chores outside like mowing the lawn of when he was fixing the car Darry would always be following along and would always ask to try. He was always happy when he mowed the lawn and his dad said he did a good job when he let Darry help with the car

Darry was also always the one to sit in their dads lap and drive the car up the drive way

Darry used to sit in bed with Soda and Pony and read books to them, and a lot of the time at least one, or sometimes all of them, would fall alseep. There's a couple photos of them all sleeping in the bed with the book falling out of Darry's hand and it was taped to the fridge for a long time.

When Pony started learning to read he would try and read to his brothers instead.

Based on something my family used to do: Sometimes they would put music on the radio and all the three brothers woud dance to the music in the lounge and put on little shows for their parents.

Another thing my sister and I used to do: Sodapop and Ponyboy used to love eating frozen peas so sometimes their dad would sometimes pour them a small bowl of frozen peas and they would sit on the same chair together and eat peas.

When Mickey Mouse got sold Ponyboy drew a picture of him to try and help Soda. Soda was so touched that he started crying again and Pony panicked because he though he had made Soda sad but then he hugged him

Whenever Darry made Pony cry as a way to get him to shut up he would pick him up and throw him slightly up in the air, or give him piggy backs around the lounge and that would calm him down.

Ponyboy started over exargerating him crying so he would get free piggy backs

All the three of them have leaned back on the chair too far

Surprinsingly all three of them used to be picky eaters and it would be nearly impossible for their parents to cook a meal that they all liked that wasn't take aways or junk food. This is the phase they grew out of the most

Sodapop and Pony used to annoy the hell out of Darry by calling him Darry Queen whenever they went to Dairy Queen

Darry and Soda used to annoy the hell out of Pony by calling him horseman

During summer they would all annoy the hell out of their parents by begging them to set up the pool, buy them ice cream, or go down to the watering hole.

During the summer they would also have heaps of water fights and their dad would either turn the sprinkler on or just spray them straight with the hose

Second hand Darry clothes

I might do a part 2 if I can think of more but for now this is it.

[ace-disgrace-from-space]

Literally my first post in the CB tag, so: hello, hi, nice to formally meet you all. I don't post but trust me I DO lurk in this tag. Doing this post so I can share my deteriorating thoughts but also so that in five weeks when I've forgotten everything I can see if I was right or not and whether I've earned a treat. Fair warning: I only know how to write essays. Big long theses. My bad. Whoops. All of this is PURE THEORIZING. I have no idea what truly happens, all information I gather is from the free episode(s) or what's posted here. I am simply taking shots in the dark for fun. Please don't yell at me. only saying this cause I normally post in communities where everyone has the same information but you all seem very nice so I'm not really worried about it :]

OKAY! SO! As a very normal human being with very normal interest in this silly comic, I scroll through the tag and see what you goobers post (because you're all very funny, talented, and entertaining) and I noticed that this week's fast pass episode has people in emotions. Very MUCH in emotions. I also noticed someone mention parallels to this week's free episode- which I spent way too long agonizing over but that's IRRELEVANT -and so my brain got to thinking. I could just satisfy my curiosity by using money but the way my anxiety will just beat me up for that is crazy. So, instead of that, I've decided that it's time to rabidly theorize about what happens for giggles. Basing my thoughts on the idea of this week's episodes having parallels, I have a few different thoughts.

All of my ideas are parallels of things that happened in the dungeon in the free episode since that has the most content to parallel and was the most prevalent part of the episode. With that in mind, here we go and apologies in advance.

Idea Number One: My first idea is that maybe there's a parallel to the scene where Buddy saves Chase from the creepy guard. Perhaps there's a similar situation to what happened in the free episode or- an idea I'm more partial to -within this book there's a person, place, or scene that reminds Buddy of Ex-Libris which causes him to have some sort of panic attack or a clearly afraid reaction. He's placed in a situation where he's reminded of something from EL that he is afraid of or has bad memories of. Something that Chase has to pull him away or calm him down from, but something that Chase has to save him from. Like how Buddy saved him this week.

Idea Number Two: This idea is based on the statement about ulterior motives and hiding things that Buddy made to Chase- who we all know is hiding something. In this idea, maybe Buddy finally finds out about Prunella and isn't pleased with Chase's lying to him and hiding things. They aren't besties but there's a thin line of trust between them that Chase potentially breaks by hiding Prunella. A person Buddy thought was honest and open suddenly hid something from him, so who's to say he's not hiding more? So, the actual IDEA is that maybe Buddy parallels the statement he makes, but this time in a more hurt tone or accusatory. Instead of apologizing and admitting "you can't have ulterior motives and you're pretty honest", he goes the opposite direction of "I was wrong, you're a liar and blah blah blah" (sorry didn't wanna write more lmao). Still, for a parallel, the statements would likely have to be similar in structure and in nature, and a line that has been living RENT-FREE in my head since this morning is: "I was too dumb to think you didn't have ulterior motives. Too dumb to see that you were hiding something." Or something to that effect. Paralleling that previous statement.

Idea Number Three: This idea I'm less sold on but screw it, throwing it in for giggles because I can and that's one more idea I have lying around. This one is based more on the situation between Chase and Buddy (Buddy being like "wow! thanks for not hiding things" to Chase "definitely hiding a whole ass child" Hollow). A simple switch of roles is what my third thought is. Chase takes Buddy's role of "Wow, so honest" and Buddy takes Chase's role of "Hiding things". The reason I don't like this one as much and I'm not as convinced is because for it to have as much emotion as the Fast Pass episode clearly had, there has to be some sort of emotional investment to whatever the thing was. And for there to be emotional investment, we would likely have to know what exactly Buddy would be hiding from Chase in this potential scenario. As of right now, we have nothing of the sort since getting that kind of information would require a Buddy POV episode which I don't think we're getting any time super soon? So, unless we suddenly find out things in the next four weeks, I doubt it's going to be something like this.

OKAY, I'M DONE NOW I SWEAR! I am so sorry for how long and unnecessary this post was (whoops) but I need to scream somewhere! I'll revisit this in five weeks I suppose to see if I'm right or not and if I've earned my little treat (reward yourselves for things man. self-love). I'll still be lurking, as always, but I guess I'll see y'all formally once again in like five weeks. Have a lovely day! :]

[toomuchracket]

you're the only thing that's going on in my mind (d word matty x reader smut)

cocky mean d word matty post-show on glasgow night 1 because i left that gig Fucked Up (see below pic that i took). canon, so girly is pregnant at this point. he goes a bit simpy at the end, but... fork found in kitchen. VERY slutty. enjoy! <3

“what the fuck are you two doing here?” matty's voice - loud, so as to be heard over the people outro - and face are aghast as he exits b stage to find you and mrs mac, the two of you standing in front of the security line at the back. “couldn't believe my eyes when i saw you lurking from up there.”

“well, we do work here,” comes the reply from beside you. 

you laugh, leaning back to stretch slightly before cradling your bump. “and the baby wanted to be up close and personal for the final song. she’s her father's daughter, after all.”

“jesus christ,” matty shakes his head, but the little smile on his face is unmissable. he steps close to you so ross and adam can get out, pressing a quick kiss to the bump before pulling you into his bare chest. “wasn't just the baba that wanted to see me there, though, was it?”

“hmm?” you look up at your boyfriend, a smirk on his pretty face.

“don't act clueless, sweetheart,” matty slings an arm around your shoulders as you both start walking back to the main stage, leaning to speak in your ear. “saw the way you were looking at me the whole time. and the way you crossed your legs when i opened my shirt - that was for you, by the way. wanted to see how you'd react.”

you can feel your cheeks burning. “was it… a good reaction?”

matty laughs, not unkindly, and kisses your cheek. “oh, baby, you're such a fucking sub,” he coos in your ear. “of course it was a good reaction; the sexiest woman in the world’s all turned on and needy for me. s'hot as fuck.”

“you're hot as fuck.”

“too fucking right,” your boyfriend holds out his free hand and brushes it against some of the waiting palms of the crowd, still leaning in to talk to you. “look at them, how excited they are, how happy. look what i fucking did to them, did for them. me.”

“no one else,” you all but breathe, shuffling even closer to him. “just you.”

matty hums, leading you through behind the stage and pulling you into a darkened alcove. his lips are on yours almost immediately, tongue slipping into your mouth and making you whine. “you're fucking desperate for me, aren't you, princess?”

fuck.

“yeah,” you whimper against him. “want you to fuck me.”

matty groans into your mouth, pulling back to hold your jaw. he smirks. “nah.”

you blanch. “what?”

“you don't understand? fuck's sake,” matty rolls his eyes. “no. i don't want to fuck you right now.”

“but…” you feel your lip trembling.

“good girls don’t say but, do they?”

you blink, looking sheepishly at the ground. “no, daddy. m'sorry.”

“that's better,” matty strokes your cheek. “now, instead of us running off because you're needy, i want us to go and celebrate with everyone, because i think i deserve to be celebrated - you agree, don’t you?”

you nod.

“good girl,” matty smiles, a smile that widens when you perk up at the praise. “if you're good enough at the afterparty, then i'll fuck you. understand?”

you nod again.

“words, princess.”

“yes, daddy. i understand.”

matty kisses you again. “let's go, then, gorgeous.”

and thus begins the most tedious ninety minutes of your life.

it wouldn't actually be a bad night if you weren't so worked up, you think - everyone's in good spirits, pleased with how well the show went, and the room is soundtracked by a cacophony of laughs and excited tones. you try your best to get involved in the conversations with your friends, all of them interjecting with their favourite moments of the show, but your focus is so elsewhere that you end up just sitting back and nursing your soda and lime.

elsewhere being your boyfriend, working his way around the conversations in the room and soaking up the compliments like a cat in a patch of sunlight. he's too busy preening to have made a dent in his pint, but he's as animated as he is when he's tipsy; there's a permanent smirk etched on his face as he incessantly talks, and the combination of that and his almost-unbuttoned shirt has you clenching. you don't want to look away from him at all, but god knows what else might happen if he catches you staring at him so openly, so lustfully, teeth biting your straw to beyond the point of use just to stay sane. best to keep your head down every time he turns his in your direction.

it shoots straight up when he speaks from right beside you, though, squatting to take your hand and talk to you. “fancy some air, darling?”

finally.

“yes please,” you reply, biting your tongue to stop yourself grinning too widely.

matty knows how excited you are, though. as soon as you get into the empty hallway, he pulls you in for a sweet hug, but the relief you feel from him touching you is somewhat overshadowed by the way he laughs in your ear.

“what is it?” you lean back just enough to look at him, your brow furrowed.

“you're just so fucking needy,” matty shakes his head, still giggling. “you thought i was getting you alone so we could get each other off, didn't you?”

“i- no.”

“well, good. because that's not what's happening.”

you feel your shoulders slump slightly. “okay.”

“i'll tell you why, but i need to ask you something serious first,” one of his hands caresses the bump. “you're not tired, are you? or sore at all?”

“no, i'm alright.”

matty tuts. “so why are you sitting in there moping, princess?”

your jaw drops. “i am not fucking moping.”

“less of the backchat,” your boyfriend says sternly. “and yes, you are, sitting there looking at the floor and not talking to anybody. told you to be good, remember?”

“i am being good!”

“what did i just say, princess?” matty holds your jaw; not painfully, but firmly enough that you can't look away from him. he looks fuming. “keep answering back like that, and you won't cum for a week. you're already on thin fucking ice as it is, after the way you acted in there. sitting silently just waiting for me to stop celebrating my night so i can fuck you - what a brat you are. a needy little brat.”

you'd be lying if you said his words didn't send a burst of heat straight between your legs. but still, you're curious as to where matty's newfound dominance has come from. “why are you being so mean to me tonight?”

he smirks. “because, darling, you asked me to. remember?”

oh, fuck. a memory crosses your mind, hazy with post-sex fog, matty's jaw dropping when you shyly say you wouldn't mind him being meaner in bed with you, whenever he felt up to it. “ah…”

“you do remember!,” matty looks satisfied. “that's good, because i'm feeling very selfish tonight. in the mood to be… worshipped, i'd say. have someone else do all the work. how's that sound, princess?”

“so good,” you whine. and it does - you'd do anything to touch him right now. “i'll do it now, daddy, if s’what you want.”

“bet you fucking would, gorgeous,” matty's hands trail down your body, across the bump, and back up over your tits. “so desperate for daddy to fill you up again, even though i've already done it. never enough for you, is it?”

you shake your head. “never. need you all the time.”

“greedy girl,” matty grins. “but it's actually hot that you need me so much. just wish you were better behaved about it.”

you nod. “i will be, daddy, promise.”

“prove it,” his thumb pulls your lower lip down. “take what i give you, and you'll get what you want if you keep being good while i finish my pint, yeah?”

“yes, daddy.”

“there's my girl,” matty smiles, and you glow. “now - open.”

you oblige, dropping your jaw so your boyfriend can spit into your open mouth; he opens his to tell you to swallow, but you've already done it before he takes a breath to speak. he groans, rubbing his thumb over your lips and smiling when you suck the tip. “that's more like it. good.”

“thank you, daddy.”

“you're welcome, princess,” matty presses a quick kiss to your lips before pulling you into a hug and murmuring in your ear. “colours still apply tonight, sweetheart, as always - you want to stop at any point, just say the word. you're alright now, though, aren't you?”

“yeah. all green here,” you whisper into matty's ear in return. “i love you.”

“i love you, too,” a kiss to your cheek, and matty leans back. the smirk has reappeared on his pretty face. “m'excited to fucking ruin you later.”

“please.”

your boyfriend kisses you again, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and dragging it to release. “half an hour. best behaviour, you hear me?”

you nod enthusiastically. “i hear you, daddy.”

“alright. let's go back in, then.”

matty takes your hand and leads you back into the room of your friends, helping you to get comfy on one of the sofas before slotting in beside you. he's as self-assured as he was earlier, but your attraction to that is more manageable now that he's actually touching you - a hand on your thigh, lazily drawing patterns into your trouser leg - and you know you only have to endure another thirty minutes until he takes you back to the hotel.

as it turns out, that time flies by, so much so that you're almost surprised by matty leaning in to tell you it's time to go. you nod, and he kisses your head before standing and helping you up.

“is that the two of you on your way?” mrs mac jumps up to hug you, patting the bump affectionately. “take it easy tonight, love. s'been a long day.”

“yeah, i will,” you smile. liar.

“take care of her, healy.”

“oh, i will,” matty smiles. not a lie. “night, everyone.”

after the chorus of well done agains and goodbyes dies down, matty leads you to the waiting car. the journey back is quick, and quiet, the only sounds the humming of the engine and the noises from the late-night glasgow revellers you pass. in fact, aside from thanking the driver, matty's silent the whole time until you get into the room; only once the door closes behind you does he speak, leaning down to whisper in your ear as he takes your coat from you. “colour?”

“green.”

“good. in that case - clothes off, on the bed, legs open. now. and don't even think about touching yourself.”

you're actually thankful of the order, because you're so wet that your underwear is starting to become uncomfortable. with a “yes, daddy” and a sloppy kiss, you practically sprint to the bedroom of the suite, kicking off your trainers as soon as you open the door and pulling down your jumpsuit so quickly you wouldn't be surprised if you ripped it. you chuck it onto the chair in the corner of the room, and your lingerie follows suit before you climb onto the bed as instructed, waiting as patiently as possible for matty.

he wanders in a couple of minutes later, can of coke in hand, and leans against the doorframe. the shirt he was wearing has disappeared, and you can't quite decide if you'd rather look at his chest or his smirking face. “can see how fucking wet you are from here, princess. jesus,” matty says, wandering over to you and looking hungrily at your soaked cunt. without warning, he brings his hand down harshly onto it; you yelp, and feel another gush to your core. matty giggles and repeats the motion, and the same thing happens. “you little slut, liking when i slap your pussy. dirty, dirty girl.”

slightly sickeningly, you don't think you've ever been so turned on in your life. all you can do is whimper as your boyfriend continues to slap your cunt, the noises turning to cries whenever he makes contact with your clit, and then to little mewls as he drags his fingers up and down your slit with a “so messy, princess, i think we need to clean you up.”

sighing with relief, you spread your legs even wider so that matty can comfortably get his head between them - you're surprised (and disappointed), then, when he holds a hand out and says “get up, and follow me”. but you oblige, of course, like the good girl you know you are despite what matty says and thinks. when he nudges you into the shower and takes the rest of his clothes off, you perk up slightly, and even more so when he removes the showerhead from the wall and kneels. “spread your pussy for me.”

fuck.

you oblige, but you must look terrified, because matty's eyes fill with concern. he strokes your thigh comfortingly. “colour, sweetheart?”

taking a deep breath, you reply in a shaky voice. “green.”

he doesn't seem convinced. “you're sure?”

“yeah. honest.”

“well, alright,” he presses a kiss to your thigh. “hold onto me if you need, yeah?”

“okay, daddy. thank you.”

“of course,” matty sits back on his knees. his face changes again. “now… let me clean my dirty girl up.”

aiming the showerhead at the floor, he reaches up to turn the water on, testing it with his free hand and adjusting the temperature dial accordingly. suddenly, with no warning, warm streams of water hit your clit; your jaw drops, and it takes everything in you to stop your legs doing the same. “oh my god.”

“tell me how it feels.”

“it's - shit - so fucking good, daddy,” you pant, eyes rolling back with pleasure, jaw shaking slightly. matty turns the water pressure up a notch, and you gasp. “fuck!”

matty hums. “d'you wanna cum?”

“yeah.”

“well, too bad,” all of a sudden, the water stops. you wail at the loss of stimulation on your clit, and matty scoffs. “what are you being like that for? thought you wanted me to fill you up again. you're telling me you don't want to cum on my dick?”

your legs nearly give out. “no, i do,” you whimper. “please, daddy, need you inside me.”

“hmm,” matty tilts his head, squinting at you. he sighs. “alright. you're doing all the work, mind you,” he stands and takes your hand again, before leading you to stand in front of the sink. “come on, princess. hands on the counter - wanna look at myself while you get me off.”

it's infuriating how hot you find your boyfriend’s arrogance - or, it would be, if you could think about anything other than the feeling of him brushing up against your waiting cunt. the desire spilling out of you isn’t helped in the slightest by the way matty’s eyes are locked onto his own reflection, as he moves and flexes and runs his hands through his hair and across his face.

god, he's fucking gorgeous.

and he knows it. “fucking look at me,” matty says - to nobody in particular, given that you're both already staring at his reflection. “no fucking wonder the crowd reacted the way they did tonight,” he laughs, tilting his head and opening his mouth slightly. “could've had any one of them, i reckon. bet everyone wished they could have me, just like this.”

envy draws your cheeks in. the thought of matty fucking someone else in your place sends a bolt of rage into your stomach, firing up your throat and shooting from your lips as a snarl. good girl be damned. “well, they fucking can't.”

matty meets your eyes in the mirror and smirks. “no?”

“no,” you grip the counter so hard your knuckles go white. “you're mine. besides, none of them could fucking take you like i do.”

he laughs. “oh, you're being a bitch. i like it.”

“just being honest, daddy.”

“well, show me how you take it, then,” with one hand, matty lines himself up with your hole; the other weaves itself into your hair, forcing you to keep looking in the mirror. “give me all you've got, you fucking bitch.”

you smile, saccharine. “yes, daddy,” slowly straightening your arms, you moan in harmony with your boyfriend as he fills you up. “fuck.” 

once you've taken a second to get used to the feeling of matty inside you, you bend your arms and pull yourself almost completely off him, before slamming back with no warning and watching in satisfaction as matty's jaw drops. “shit, princess,” he groans, steadying himself against the wall with his free hand as you repeat the movement, over and over. “yeah, you're fucking right - only you, my girl, only you can take me so fucking well. perfect fucking pussy, perfect fucking girl.”

you beam at the praise - matty notices, and laughs. “you like it when i tell you how good you are at taking my dick? little slut. but it's true. fucking built for this, weren't you? for me to fuck you and fill you up? you must be, to be so fucking greedy - already knocked you up and you still want my cum. fucking desperate,” he pulls you by the hair so your back is against his chest, bringing his other hand to your hip to use as leverage to fuck you even faster than you were already moving. “but i fucking love it. i fucking love you.”

“love you so much,” you whine, throwing an arm back and hooking it around matty's neck. “fuck, look at you. so fucking hot.”

“and all yours,” matty whispers in your ear, making you smile. his lips drop to your neck as he speeds up his thrusts, but his eyes never leave your reflection. he groans. “look at you, princess, my beautiful girl. all full of me. and those fucking tits - love them always, but i'm gonna fuckin miss the way they look right now when you're not pregnant anymore.”

“easy fix,” you giggle. “you'll just have to knock me up again.”

even if matty's hips didn't speed up impossibly more at your words, the noise he makes in response is almost enough to get you off. “i'll fucking do it, princess, if that's what you want. i'd do anything for you.”

“make me cum?”

“if you say the magic word.”

“please, daddy?”

he smiles, pressing a kiss to the side of your head and his fingers onto your clit; you moan as soon as they make contact, which only spurs matty on. “do it, then, princess. cum all over my fucking cock.”

your body reacts immediately to his command - all your muscles tighten and release, pleasure flowing through your nervous system and forcing a scream from your throat. matty groans as you grab hold of the counter again, the new angle letting him grab your hips and fuck recklessly into you, the syncopated rhythm a sure sign of his own imminent orgasm. “oh, fuck,” he whines, pulsing heat deep into your cunt and continuing to thrust into you. “fucking take it, princess, take it like the good little cumslut you are,” he stills inside you, still shaking from the aftershocks, resting his head on your shoulder. 

after a minute of mutual heavy breathing, matty looks up, meeting your eyes and beaming at you in the mirror. “i'm fucking knackered. worth it, though.”

“mmm,” you lean on your elbow. “thank you for indulging me, baby.”

“of course,” matty kisses your shoulder. “and you're unbelievably sexy when you're possessive, by the way. i'm getting turned on just thinking about it.”

you put your head in your hands. “oh my god, no, i cannot go for another round right now. i love you, but i need to go to sleep.”

“no, i agree, don’t worry,” your boyfriend laughs. “can you reach the tap, sweetheart?”

“yeah.”

“run that blue washcloth under the water and chuck us it, then, please?” matty inches out of you carefully, taking the flannel from you with a kiss and kneeling behind you with a moan. “christ, i'll never get over this sight.”

you huff out a laugh, hissing when matty gently wipes the flannel over your core with an “i know, baby, i'm sorry”; you perk up a bit when he stands and helps you straighten up, cradling the bump from behind you. “i love you, darling,” he kisses you. “both my darlings, actually. you feeling alright?”

“just sleepy. s'been a long day,” you snuggle into him. “proud of you. grateful for you. love you.”

“back at you, sweetheart.”

[maple-the-awesome]

You Sacrifice Yourself for Them Part 1/3

Part 2 || Part 3

Pairings: Legend, Sky, Time x GN Reader

Requested by anonymous: HIIIII OMG I JUST WANRED TO SAY i lovelovrloveloveeeee the way you write so much!!!!!!! ur recent loz post had me kicking and squealing in my sear hehehe T_T could i request a scenario with the chain in a situation where the reader sacrifices themselves to protect the boys? im imagining things begging the enemy to take them instead, protecting them from a hit or even something funny like taking the blame for a mistake they made!!! id love to see some angst from you!!!!! THANK U AND HAVE A GREAT WEEK!!!!!💖💖💖💖

Zelda Masterlist 💙 Fandom Masterlist

Shit. Shit. Shiiit.

This was not how this day was supposed to go. This was not how this dungeon was supposed to go! The group calls him 'Veteran' for a reason. He's done more dungeons on his own than the lot of them combined. He's quick on his feet, able to complete the most complex puzzles like child's play, and barely breaks a sweat against the foes that lurk in every damp shadow. Anymore, dungeons are easy (too easy, maybe, compared to some of the rougher...emotionally draining parts of his journeys). 

This was supposed to be just as easy. He had no shame in bragging or flexing his skills, yet all that has officially flown out the window in a way that one could deem quite literal, actually. A quick whiz of air and an echoed shatter that would've reminded him of the wonderful sound of broken pottery if not for how horrifying it was in true comparison. No, that sound was far from exhilarating, especially paired with the image of you falling sideways like a lifeless doll, pieces of tile bouncing off your head and exploding in the air like fireworks trailed by crimson. 

Legend isn't sure if he managed to catch you in time. He probably did, but in his panic he feared you might've hit your head on the floor as if that's not exactly what already happened to knock you out in the first place. Damn floor tiles! Usually they're just embarrassing annoyances when prepared for them, but that's the problem: he wasn't. When those dangerous squares came flying at him at a blurring speed, he expected to take on the hit, not for you to shield him with your own body. What in Hylia's name were you even thinking?!

For what feels like hours but is really only a few seconds, Legend's mind runs rapidly with petrified thoughts: Are you dead? Did he just let you die for his sake? It's supposed to be the other way around if anything! He's the world's punching bag, not you. You're…too special for any of that…

"Hylia, t-that hurt..." Legend snaps out of it only when you groan, barely able to open your eyes against the blinding light of the torch - the only light in the room - which has long been abandoned behind both of you. 

"Are you kidding me?! Are you stupid or something?! What the hell were you even thinking doing that?! Do you know what could've happened if you got hit hard enough or at the wrong angle?! You could've been given a concussion, put into a coma, o-or -"

"- But it could've ruined your pretty face."

Legend’s words choke in his throat as he stares at you as if you've suddenly grown several heads...that or he has just now realized you're the biggest idiot in Hyrule, who knows? Clearly, you're still in a daze yourself, head wobbling around as you blink rapidly with pupils dilated wide. Maybe the whole concussion thing can't actually be ruled out quite yet.

"...Stupid..." Legend mumbles under his breath with a click of his tongue as he looks away from you, "...What about your face then?"

"Awww. You think I'm pretty, too?" 

He huffs instead of answering, carefully helping you up before draping your arm over his shoulders and pulling you securely against his side where he can better keep you from stumbling off into something or, Hylia forbid, trip face first into the ground, causing more damage aside from the goose egg already bruising your forehead and the line of blood dripping down it, "We need to get you to the Traveler. ‘get you fix up.”

"Huh? But what...what 'bout the dungeon?" 

"We can come back later. The treasure at the end probably isn't worth it anyways if floor tiles are what's guarding it."

You hum distantly, dropping your head directly against his without any notice to the way this makes his cheeks flare unwillingly, "...Hey Legs?"

"What?"

"Can you please not tell anyone I got beat up by pieces of floor?"

Legend snorts and pretends to think your question over, "Hmm…In light of you saving my life, I guess I can keep that promise."

"Thanks, bun."

"You know, on second thought, maybe I won't."

Sky awoke in a pleasant mood that was only made better upon remembering his current whereabouts. He had a wonderful dream about being back home during peaceful times, and while disappointed to leave such a relaxing feeling, at least he found himself still in that cozy little inn the Chain decided to stay at for the night. What was better was that it appeared to be rather early. The sun was barely shining through the window, only barely peeking over the village roofs, and the room itself was silent aside from the sound of some snoring which confirmed that the rest of his roommates were still fast asleep, thus Sky figured there would be no harm in dozing off for a few extra minutes until he hears someone else get up for the day…That was his plan, anyways…

"...Hey Sky?"

"Mmm?"

"You, uh, know there's only ten minutes until eight, right?"

In a blink of an eye, Sky shoots straight up, suddenly not feeling so tired. Rubbing his eyes and bearing through his new headache, he's horrified to confirm that you must be right. The window is now glowing in a bright gold, showing a bustling little village outside. You, yourself, are already dressed in your tunic, hair done and ready to go. Legend and Wind, who had been your other roommates last night, must follow the same status seeing as neither of them nor their belongings are here anymore. It's just you and Sky.

In an instant, he leaps out of bed, nearly tripping yet recovering as he hurries to find his own belongings which seems a lot harder to accomplish in his panicked state compared to any other day. You, meanwhile, replace his spot upon the bed, sitting down there with an apologetic look, "I would have woken you up sooner, but I wasn't sure if you were purposefully sleeping in."

"You're alright - uh, thank you for waking me up at all," Sky backtracks when he remembers he had folded his tunic under his bed, kneeling down to grab it along with the rest of his belongings stuffed under there, "Where's the Vet and Pirate?"

"Already at breakfast. Wild dropped by a little while ago to say that it would be ready soon. I'm sure the others are already digging in."

"Crap."

"I'm sure there'll be enough left for us regardless. He always makes so much whenever we stay somewhere with an actual kitchen..." Despite Sky having worn an undershirt to bed, you still feel the need to awkwardly look away as he pulls the rest of his clothes overhead, "You must have a real talent for sleeping because the rest of us woke up to a loud 'thud' and cursing...'don't think Legend will be taking the top bunk at the next inn we reach."

Fully dressed, Sky's first order of business should really be to rush downstairs instead of testing his luck with angry companions, but he takes the time to spare you a glance instead, "Why haven't you gone downstairs yet?"

The question, once thought of, weighs heavy on his mind. You just said that you awoke with the others, however you chose to stay here and risk getting in trouble yourself for tardiness rather than joining them. 

You merely shrug as if it’s of no concern, "I figured I'd wait for you. Like I said, I didn't know if you were purposefully sleeping in and I would've felt worse if I fully gambled on that, leaving you to sleep until noon and suffer Time's wrath."

Sky fidgets and stares down at his feet, although when he opens his mouth to say something, you're standing again while pushing him towards the door, "But let's not push our luck too far, alright? Time was pretty adamant about getting out of here at a decent time."

Yes, he was. He had made a strict point of that last night which is further emphasized by the fact that he is already standing at the bottom of the staircase by the time you both appear at the top of it. It appears that he was just about to make his way up to scold you, but since you've so kindly met him halfway, he can do that from here, "I assume there's a good reason for sleeping in yet again, Skyloftian?"

Sky gulps under the Old Man's glare, prepared to take on whatever punishment that will soon follow seeing as he's officially reached his limit of making the entire group late, however as quickly as he begins to dread the thought of taking on an extra watch for the night or doing a supply run with his own rupees, you're beating him to an explanation, "It's my fault, actually. I had a rough night and didn't realize what time it was until Sky woke me. If he hadn't waited for me, he wouldn't have been late so don't be too mad at him, okay?"

"That's not -" Sky's head whips towards you in surprise, however he falls silent when you give him a look that commands it.

Time hums, glancing between the two of you without much sign that he believes your lie. He has no reason to considering that Wind had already mentioned you were up and at 'em this morning. Perhaps if you had crossed his path earlier for this conversation, he would’ve been more inclined then to point this out, forcing you to confess the truth, although it’s five minutes till eight now meaning he'd be wasting time none of you have to argue not to mention he really doesn't care so long as everyone’s ready to go.

"Well, since you're both technically down here before eight, I'll let it slide this time," He narrows his eyes at you both, taking some sort of pride in how you each bow your heads shamefully, however that's the extend of it before he turns his heel, "But it's up to you to savage yourselves breakfast before Wild packs it up and I still expect you all to be out in the lobby by eight sharp, not a second later even if it means you have to go without a starting meal for today."

"Yes, sir!"

"I'm okay. Worry about the Old Man first."

"Clearly you're not fine. Your arm -"

"- I've had worst -"

"- That doesn't matter. You're still injured."

This argument isn’t going anywhere. Anyone in the group could see that, but are they brave enough to point it out? Considering the fact that they all stand by in awkward silence, probably not.

The last battle was a tough one which may be a bit of an understatement considering Time and you both walked away with some serious wounds to show for your victory. Time had been knocked in the head by a Moblin club, thrown backwards where he then laid unconscious for several moments only to awaken with a gash in the club’s former place, although still a far less visible injury compared to yours. You didn’t miss the way Sky kept gagging when helping you back into camp, unable to so much as glance at the terrible result of a Lizalfos sword slicing through your arm. Provided the extent of these soon-to-be scars, everyone would expect (and hope) that the two of you would be eager for Hyrule’s healing magic, however they were quickly proven otherwise. 

“So? I’ll live.”

“Not without medical attention.”

“I’ll take a potion.”

“I thought you didn’t have any left?”

You curse to yourself before sticking your nose into the air with a stubborn change of subject, “You know, last time I checked, a head injury is a lot more serious than a simple cut!”

Time ignores your claim, feeling his face grow warm in irritation (or maybe that’s due to the fresh blood dripping down from his hairline), “You call that ‘a simple cut’?”

You merely shrug, readjusting the crimson cloth you currently press to the nasty slice that parts your skin directly down from your shoulder into your bicep. It no doubt burns like the fires of Death Mountain which you don’t hide despite your persistence in turning down any aid. Your face is scrunched into an expression of pain, a hiss leaving your hips whenever you move the cloth or your arm in any way, yet you still meet Time’s eyes with no sign of budging.

“Twilight, tell him he’s being ridiculous!” 

The poor farm boy leaps in place when you both end up turning his way. Although not another word is said by either of you, he understands that voiceless command of Time’s stone cold glare: he isn’t to say a word - not a word - that could be taken as a form of agreement towards your cause. He’s to be a good boy and point out that your arm isn’t going to fix itself, thus you should be the first to be tended to by Hyrule. Of course, he cares about your wellbeing and would definitely side with his mentor and his intimating ways if not for how the older male sways side-to-side with the wind, clearly struggling to maintain himself as the effects of a serious concussion start to take its toll on him.

“...(Y/n)...does have a point..." Twilight mumbles, gulping when Time’s glare darkens.

Thankfully for him and all the others who stand by with their heads down, including little Hyrule who’s been stuck between you both too fearful to make a peep, Warrior has finally had enough of this, officially having no problem taking charge with his annoyance made clear through his stern voice, “The longer you both argue about this, the longer you both go without medical attention, so please, for the love of Hylia, will one of you just swallow your damn pride and let Hyrule do what he needs to?”

There’s no instant reaction, neither of being too eager to see Warrior’s very valid point, however after glancing at you once more and noticing how tightly you’re holding onto your arm, Time sighs at long last, resulting in a chorus of others to follow, “...Fine. I’ll go first.”

This satisfies you, allowing you to relax your muscles and focus on keeping that cloth pressed to your arm while Hyrule begins working his magic to fix Time’s own injury, although as always, the Old Man has to have the last word, shoving his pouch towards you with a grumble, “At least take a red potion in the meantime. It should dull the pain.”

Thankfully, you don’t argue as he feared you would based on your initial hesitation. Instead, you huff, but ultimately dig through the pouch to locate the bottle which you pop the cork off of dramatically, “Fine.”

[chaotic-fandom-hoarder]

‼️ Heavy spoilers for Act 6 of In Stars and Time, plus the secret ending ‼️

I can’t stop thinking about an isat AU where the one thing that changes is that Loop’s appearance changes depending on how they view themself.

I don’t know how I would format writing this as a fic or how to make it fit with the game’s themes necessarily, or even how to describe it, but just imagine. The better Loop’s self image is, the more human they look. They’re never going to actually be human again, that ship has sailed, but they do have the chance to look kind of like they used to, aka they have a human looking head. It’s probably going to take a long time in a post-canon recovery arc for them to get to this point though, because. Well. Waves a hand at Loop’s Whole Situation.

Especially because this can also swing the other way.

If Loop starts to Really spiral, if they feel so disconnected from everything and everyone, if they really feel like a monster, then they’re going to look the part. The first thing that changes is that they get claws, and then a tail. And then their proportions start changing, they start getting taller, more spindly. And so them thinking of themself as cruel or not worthy of love makes them look more monstrous, which feeds into the idea that they are a monster, and uh oh I just created a physical manifestation of spiraling. Whoops.

Just imagine this AU with certain parts of canon. Imagine Loop appearing like they do in canon, but as the loops continue, they get claws, and a tail with a little star on the end that trashes from side to side when they’re agitated. Imagine the touch therapy event thing, but Loop has claws at every point except for when they poke Siffrin

Also, I imagine that this AU could be very fun for either ending. Imagine both of them where Loop isn’t gone, but rather a long, spindly creature of some sort that is lurking from the branches of the favor tree. Because they just saw a different version of themself succeed, while they’re left with nothing and slowly (or not so slowly) drifting further and further away from even looking like a human. Since they were Siffrin, I’d imagine the self-loathing would Not help the whole “how you perceive yourself is how you actually look” thing that Loop has going on here. Imagine Loop just watching Siffrin during the 1hat ending, and then staying at the favor tree after he leaves, because what else would they do? They’re at least 6’5 tall with claws sharp enough to tear tree bark like paper, and also I kind of imagine them sprouting wings like a dragon at this point, so alongside Everything Else, they don’t feel like encountering Siffrin. Loop doesn’t have these same reservations in 2hats ending though, and instead of just appearing under the tree, they drop out of the tree branches already ready to attack, all but snarling that Siffrin did this to them.

I have no idea how to make this idea fit with what we know about Loop and how Wish Craft works, but can anyone see my vision? Anyone?

[syncogon]

I don't wanna lose you I don't wanna hold back

Link Click Live Action "HOLD BACK NO MORE" MV

aka: if LCLA had an anime-style OP

director rambles below cut b/c this took so many hours:

I love this song so fucking much

This was much harder than my previous two MVs, because those songs (a) had a clear narrative and (b) only required clips from about four different episodes. On the other hand, for this one I really had to think about what kind of narrative I wanted to convey, and how I could incorporate clips from every story arc. Wish my editor tracked how many hours I spent on this...

I know that flashing through the episode title cards is not very anime-OP-typical, but I thought it was a cool effect, and I'd separately been wanting to study and think about the episode titles for a while. I love how they worked Stray Birds into this whole thing.

AFAIK they didn't release a "TV size" version of the OP, so I just fade out with the full version. I actually half-assed an edit that used the "proper" ending of the full version and it surprisingly didn't sound too shabby, but in the end it felt like the energy it'd built up to was too high for use here.

Although I wasn't too impressed when it initially dropped before the show's release, I think the main trailer is actually quite good in terms of what clips they used (it's well-spread out across the whole series) and how they edited them together (visual and thematic connections). But I do think the BGM they used for it is a little weak, especially in the latter half, and I'm also not a fan of ending on the fireworks like that.

.

This is hopefully self-evident if you watch this with context, but I roughly organized this as follows:

intro: darkroom, first meetings, title cards (slow)

verse 1: LG backstory, as the lyrics suit his situation. in general the song seems to be from his POV, so he gets more focus here than CXS.

verse 2: various backstories, light-hearted. focused more on visual flow than lyric matching, but it thematically relates to the "tens of thousands" of faces CXS can wear through his dives (and so this section starts off with the shot of CXS in one such dive)

pre-chorus: "a demon in my view"—something lurks in the darkness behind you... and then "to the sun" is a very specific lyric match <3

chorus: every refrain of "i don't wanna lose you, i don't wanna hold back" is matched to a shot of shiguang; the rest are all shots from their missions. semi-chronological.

post-chorus: we do the title card thing again in double-time, which perfectly allows us to get all 24. then, series of quick shots that all relate to the central case, before ending on iconic shot of our trio. let me say it is such a pain to do quick shots but it's so satisfying haha

.

Among many things that I'm bummed I couldn't fit in are the festival mask shots from the final arc. I would've loved an evolving OP where for the final two episodes, instead of the obscured shot of mask man, we get the reveal shot heh

I'm glad to finally make an edit that I can show people without risking massive spoilers :D if you watched this (and read all this nonsense), thank you!

[atrocioushaircut]

More on Sebastian Solace in a Little Nightmares (first game) au. It's a little disorganized, sorry

(continuation of this post)

So I still want to keep some key parts of his character.

He's trapped, and wants to get out

He (presumably) has very negative feelings about his transformation (used to be human)

He's not a hostile entity but the player is on thin ice with him at all times.

He is in this situation because someone (wrongfully) thought he deserved it

His name already fits the LN style of character titles: The Janitor, The Lady, The Granny... The Saboteur.

Location (and some mechanics)

I don't know if I want to make him an aquatic-dwelling creature in The Depths like The Granny, or have him lurk in The Prison's vent system*-- I remember seeing a post that talked about how Sebastian would not actually be a good swimmer--- and isn't that a horror all on its own? To have your body mutated and distorted until it's unrecognizable, and you aren't even able to move properly? And your bones hurt, because you haven't become accustomed to the new bend of your spine, etc etc.

*the vent system as seen in the game would definitely be too small for him. maybe in those tunnels? Idk I'll have to play the game again to find places he could be.

So maybe he's in the water but is a slow swimmer (like the Granny, who is just a very tall old woman), OR he's stuck in an empty space between the pipes and vents-- enough for him to move around, but the vent exits are too small for him to leave, forcing him to eat whatever comes by (Nomes, rats, etc). This could create an opportunity to play into LN's themes of hunger and Sebastian's shopkeeper mechanic, since he'd probably want to trade for food items (or books from The Lady's quarters instead of research, since magic is probably what turned him into a fish in the first place).

((Another option: creating a new area of the Maw altogether, and adding all the other pressure monsters as well)

Storyline/Mechanics

Maybe the player/Six needs to pass by his area several times during the game. He tries to eat them the first few times, but slowly realizes that this child is, somehow, surviving everything the Maw throws at them. If anyone has a chance to get out of here alive, it's this weird little kid in a yellow raincoat. So of course it's to his advantage to strike up a deal with them!

Or, if we want to keep the LN mechanic of enemies not talking to the player, maybe you free him with some puzzle shenanigans (breaking down a boarded-off vent with one of those minecarts present in the Lair, leading another enemy into the barrier to break it) and he becomes less hostile afterwards, either:

tossing the player some food when the hunger pangs hit

trading items silently

killing an enemy for you. Pressure!Sebastian would never do this for an expendable but mayyybe it would be different with a kid. Maybe a later boss fight has a chase scene that leads you to Sebastian's area and it ends with him dragging the monster underwater and drowning them. wee!

Possible Backstory:

Could be left ambiguous, like The Granny's,

Mayybe was turned into a fish long before reaching the Maw? Maybe he was one of the Doctor's patients in the Pale City, to fit the whole science experiment thing

[honkthehenry]

unnamed slime game - part 1

Masterlist

The way you suddenly snapped into awareness without realizing you drifted off at all was something akin to having a bucket of ice-cold water thrown into your face.

You... dozed off in class again. In hindsight, it was inevitable – the last time you got hours of sleep instead of something in-between nothing at all and a 2-hour-nap was last Saturday. You've been running on nothing but bitter, cheap coffee and sheer spite for almost a week now, it was high time you finally crashed.

Still, you should have woken up at Uni. You should have woken up to your professor huffing and puffing and glowering in your face about your terrible conduct, about how your generation had no respect for his generation, about how such a complicated and beautiful science like Robotics was not a place for slackers like you (which, fair, you had no idea what you were doing in Robotics either), not... alone and certaintly not in the middle of a forest.

You ran through a bunch of scenarios quickly, but none stuck.

Kidnapping? Far-fetched at best. You lived alone, only barely making ends meet by running yourself into the ground as you tried to marry working retail with being a full-time student, so ransom was out of the question and being kidnapped for the sake of doing bad things to you... Why bother? You didn't know anyone nearly well enough to be kidnapped due to personal feelings and you were neither good-looking enough (perpetually tired goblin that you were) nor famous-, connected- or skilled enough to be kidnapped randomly.

Besides, you were at the University, on the 5th floor, in the middle of the city that had no forests for miles! You were surrounded by 20-odd other people, there was no way someone would be able to kidnap you with so many witnesses around.

So, not kidnapping.

Dream then?

Also unlikely. Your dreams were few and far-between and when they did happen, it was either you being surrounded by characters from the show you happened to be fixated on at the time or it was you getting repeatedly chased and swallowed whole by a dinosaur on a loop, until the dream finally ended (probably Jurasic Park childhood trauma, now that you thought about it).

Still.

This was so weird, because you knew for a fact you were much too aware of everything to be dreaming and yet the things you saw didn't makes sense at all!

You didn't have any arms for one!

And your body was purple!

You could feel electricity zapping at your body and it didn't hurt, it was more like being swallowed in a blanket burrito and nursing a comforting mug of hot chocolate, while watching your favourite show with no worry for deadlines or money!

You weren't supposed to feel like that, you were supposed to be tired and grumpy and irritable and not nice and not toasty and certaintly not so comfortable!

Drugs? Hallucinations? You never partaked, you didn't drink alcohol either, so that was a no—

—A purple crystal you were under zapped at you again and you positively melted on the spot, basking in the feeling and letting the troublesome train of thought go like the wind, before it inevitably derailed and caused you undue anxiety as it always did.

...it was very nice actually.

Maybe losing opposable thumbs wasn't so bad if you got this in exchange.

You could live like this.

×•×•×•× Honk!!! Corner ווו×

You know that one post lurking on Tumblr where OP is turned into a frog by a witch as revenge? And just vibes? Basks in the sun without worrying about life? This is MC now.

I don't care how long or how short chapters are, they're just gonna vibe as they are because I am a goblin with a short attention span and no actual ability to write.

Something to get you thinking - MC is an electro slime for a reason and that reason is electro immunity.

I wonder why?

*smiling like a particularly smug cat*

Did I mention I can't draw lightning/electricity? Because I can't, so I didn't.

Also fvck me, my tags didn't saveeeeee 😭

[angelwishess]

Random funfacts about the Floyra kids bcs I need to ramble abt them!!!!

And Idk when I’ll be able to make their intro posts HELP

Just like her mama, Alora attracts creatures too! …Except, they aren’t cute, little forest critters, but instead terrifying monsterous beasts. Yeah…

She took the “Beast Tamer” thing literally it seems, because anytime theres a magical beast lurking around, Alora can somehow always manage to tame it. She thinks they’re “cute” and likes to dress them up! Just like how Kyra used to ask for assistance with the critters, Alora does the same with the beasts!

Alora is actually very talented in wrestling, and she may or may not have a sleeper build… (This was inspired by Japanese wrestler Mizuki!)

Evelio is actually the most prone to mood swings amongst the Leech siblings! Though he may be able to hide his emotions better than his painfully honest siblings, he’s still the most moody of the bunch.

Growing up, Kyra taught the kids to play chess. But not the traditional kind of chess, no— She taught them how to play ‘Chess Anarchy’. A silly version of the game where there are basically no rules. The only way to win was to create a better excuse than your opponent for the ridiculous moves you do.

Because of this, Marven used to always win at chess against Evelio. After all, he’s always been too creative for his own good!

Both twins were suprised when they found out there was a tradition version of chess and, surprisingly, even Evelio disliked it. The Leech siblings found the original game boring. The only reason Evelio even likes it a little bit, is because its the only time he can beat Marven at chess lmao

Chimere dyes her hair ALOT. Im talking new month, new hair color!! She just cant stick to one thing, and that goes for style, too! Her aesthetic is constantly changing, and its just as restless as she is!

Chimere is a busy body who likes to burn energy by taking on odd jobs around campus. Anyways, shes a Jack of All Trades and a ridiculously quick learner, and she uses that to her advantage all the time!

She’ll do a favor or two for you as well, if you have a good payment! …Money? Pfft! Of course not! She expects something cool or fun in return, maybe a part of your soda cap collection, or a random playing card. Your choice, just don’t make it “boring”.

Chimere is also a total party animal, and enjoys any kind of festivity! Honestly, its like she brings the party wherever she is though, her endless energy is simply infectious!

Chimere dabbles in ballet, too! She loves all dancing in general though, and thought it’d be fun to try a new style! Dancing is her favorite thing to do, after all!

Chimere is a Ribbon Eel! Yeah, Chimere was actually adopted by Kyra and Floyd! I decided to give them one more just because RibbonEel was one of Floyra’s possible other ship names, and thought the idea of Kyra and Floyd just randomly snatching up a kid with no parents was too funny to miss out on.

Maven is a flirt. It probably ties in with his whole ‘wannabe rockstar’ thing, but he just loves the swell of pride in his chest when he knows someone is charmed by him. Don’t get him wrong, he’s not a playboy! He won’t ever pursue any of the people he flirts with (well, except for one…), he just likes to flirt!

…However, Marven is actually quite ashamed of this ngl WHAHAHAH, only because he feels guilty when the thought of what his mama would think about it crosses his mind. He may be a flirt— but please don’t tell his mom!! He’d rather die than let her know!

Whenever shes around, Marven straightens up immediately! Buttoning up his blouse and acting like hes done nothing wrong… But Evelio knows. And he uses it as black mail 😭

While the twins are both in the Spelldrive Club, Marven has his own band! Hes a vocalist and plays electric guitar— his favorite! (Mostly because it makes him ‘look cool’.)

Marven… Really just likes anything that makes him look cool. Thats his reason for most things he does, honestly… (Evelio says hes pathetic LMFAO)

He may look rough around the edges but the truth is Marven is probably the nicest out of his siblings! No matter how tough he tries to act, if you ask him enough he’ll probably eventually cave and ‘bregrudgingly’ help out.

Alora may be eager to help out— but her unpredictability and eccentricity usually makes the whole situation go completely wrong. She does try her best, but… Her methods are rather strange.

Evelio is actually very unorganized. He can never find whatever he last put down, especially in his room.

Marven, on the other hand, is amazing at finding things! Its like he can find anything, really. (Evelio always has to ask for his help). His own room is unorganized too, but its more like organized chaos. He knows where everything is, he just doesnt bother to clean up if he doesnt feel like it HAHA

Marven is clingy as hell. He’d be one of those kids that check on his parents’ location on an app and call them if they leave without telling them anything😭😭

Evelio is actually the same way, but he just wont admit it.

Chimere is always on some random side quest. You can barely find her in the same place as before, always running off to go on some sort of adventure elsewhere. She seeks out fun and adrenaline just as much as Kyra did!

Alora loves LOVESS to jumpscare people. She’ll appear out of nowhere and spook them. Its all in good fun, though! In her eyes, they’re all just playing.

[elina-sakura]

Happy Birthday to Yakou Furio! I haven’t finished the one shot, but I figured I’ll just post the first half instead. Spoilers for Master Detective Archives: RAIN CODE by the way.

It surprises Yakou how much looking out the window can change in a year. For one, he is not in his submarine this time, but the very building that has loomed its glaring light over him for three years. He never thought he would see the day where he can see all of the city from up above like he’s in heaven (ha, like he would go to that place now). But the biggest change for the city has to be how the rain has never been a curse that has matched the hellscape they were living in. Instead it is a protective shield from the rain to keep the Homunculi from going berserk from the sunlight.

Homunculi…like him.

Yeah, that was not a fun truth to learn about. That he is not the man he always thought he was, but an immortal clone called a Homunculus. When he first heard the word from Yuma, he had thought it was an actual monster that Amaterasu was planning to use to level more control over the city, or maybe take over the world. Who knows with this company and its greedy admins?

But as it turns out, the monsters have been walking alongside him this whole time.

He has been one of those monsters, long before he took up a knife.

It makes a chuckle escape Yakou whenever he thinks that. How much blood had he spilled long before he went after the doctor? Were they innocent civilians that were going about their days, or were they one of the criminals that lurked in the shadows? Did he tore down his original human he is based on, or did he finally rip the Director a new one after everything he’s done?

Perhaps it’s safe to say I’ve always been a monster? Yakou smiles bitterly.

The door squeaks open without him needing to glance at the reflection to see who's coming in. A good thing when he hears the too familiar voice loud and clear. “Good evening, Yakou. Lovely night tonight, isn’t it?”

Whenever the CEO is present now, a string forms and ties around his emotions. It helps to keep his body still, and his eyes from wandering. Anything to not look at the physical reminder of the truth of his reality. Or meet the face of one of his dear friends he stabbed in the back…

“Not feeling talkative?” Makoto’s voice grows closer, and Yakou’s body tenses up to not move his eyes.

“It’s the same as every other night, Mr. Makoto.” Yakou finally said, keeping his voice steady.

“The city may be the same, but the days sure don’t.” He can imagine Makoto just moving around exaggeratedly, arms out in showboating. “Isn’t today a special one for you? Don’t tell me you have been sitting around the entire time?”

Yakou shrugged again. “No different from my last birthdays.”

“Not even last year?”

The string snaps. He whirls his head around, baring his fangs with a sharp growl, before his breath hitches seeing Yuma’s the CEO’s face. He had to grab onto the bracelet on his wrist. It’s not him. It’s not him.

Makoto sighs, bowing his head to give room for his blonde hair for him to focus on instead. “My apologies. I don’t mean to rub salt on your exposed nerves, but I do not wish to have to keep talking to a literal Fuzz Head, as someone once called you.”

“What do you want?” Yakou growled, not bothering to try to be polite anymore.

“The doctors and I are concerned about your health. Your mental health, more specifically.”

“I’m fine.”

”I used that excuse enough times myself. Try again.”

Yakou huffs and throws his arms up. “I’m talking to the therapist. I’m taking my medications. What more do I need?”

“Get out of this room.” Makoto lifts his head to make him meet his cold purple eyes. “You’ve been stuck in here for an entire week.”

He can’t argue against that. He has been sticking to this room for days now, with only the doctors visiting to give him his checkups. “Fine, I’ll get out again. Maybe I can check out another view of the city.”

“Oh no, that won’t be necessary.” Makoto claps his hands and gives a cheeky smile. “Tonight, the doctors and I are giving you special permission to do something you haven’t done in a while.”

He doesn’t immediately say what it is. Yakou rolls his eyes. “And what is that?”

“Go outside, of course!”

Yakou coughs against his own saliva. “Wh-What?! I thought I’m not allowed outside!”

Makoto only waves his hand. “As long as you’re not wearing your iconic coat and keep your hood up, you should be fine.”

His mind tries to wrap around the CEO’s words. He has once begged to be let out of this place when he first woke up here, before learning the truth of how he came here. The only places he’s ever been in since he woke up is the Amaterasu building and Makoto’s apartment on occasional business.

“Where do you even want me to go?” Granted, he has a few ideas, but he doesn’t feel up going to those places at all.

“I don’t know.” Makoto shrugs as he turns away to the door. “Maybe stroll down memory lane? Or see how much the city has changed up close? As long as you’re back in a few hours, I don’t care.”

“But-”

“No buts!” He holds his hand up. “This is for your own good. Now go get ready, unless you prefer going out in your hospital gown. Perhaps you can start the newest Kanai Ward’s trend.”

The CEO’s chuckles echo even after he shuts the door between the two. Yakou releases a heavy sigh and lets his head fall to his hands. Knowing him even as Makoto, there’s no stopping him. What is even out there that he will find in the city that will never want someone like him again?