#sorry I know I'm using this character a lot

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Nik tries to be upfront. Price throws a curve ball.

cw: severe body dysphoria.

"John, I want to have sex with you."

Nik watched John choke on his slug of beer, an eyebrow raised. By the time John had finished coughing, his eyes were rimmed red and his face was flush. "Fockin' 'ell, Nik. Jus' like that, eh?"

A line appeared between Nik's eyebrows as he squinted suspiciously. He had always believed himself to be quite smooth, with a respectable number of notches to his belt, but while John seemed to reciprocate sometimes, it never came to anything. Just homoerotic banter. "I have been flirting, making passes, but none of it seems to be getting through. I thought I would try a different method."

John wiped the beer from his mouth with the back of his wrist and scrutinised the half empty bottle. His fingertips tapped the glass rhythmically, and for a foolhardy second, Nik thought he might be considering the offer seriously. "Naw, Nik, ya don't want that."

"I do," Nik replied. "I would like... more, too. A date."

John shook his head. "Ya don't understand, there ain't nothin' below the belt that'd interest ya." He shifted in his stool, his face collapsed in a scowl. "Truth is I weren't born right. Deformed."

Nik's mouth opened and closed like the guppy in John's kitchen fish tank at home. He had thought about how good it would be to fuck John on the counter next to it more times than he could count.

"Ya know, I take medication for it, but a gay fella like you needs it all there, right? A real man. So it's a non-starter."

"John, there are many ways we could..."

"Answer's final, Nik. S'not somethin' I'd put anyone through. Least'uv all a decent bloke."

Nik deflated against the bar. "Of course."

They sat in silence for a while, Nik staring at the tumbler between his hands while John watched the frothy bubbles pop on the inside of his bottle.

Nik bit the inside of his cheek and glanced up. "So, you have never..."

"Once. I was a teenager. Hated every minute."

"I am sorry to hear that."

John shrugged. "Maybe in another life 'll get t' see what all the fuss is about." He tapped his fingers against the bottle again, and then lifted it to knock the rest back. When he stood, he didn't meet Nik's eye. "Listen, got reports to finish. Morning briefing's at 0700."

Nik wanted to call him back. Apologise properly. But John was already leaving the bar, his shoulders slouched forward, hands deep in his pockets. It was so out of character that it bothered Nik enough to ring up Laswell half an hour later.

"Nik, it's late..."

"Sorry, I... It is about John."

"Is he okay?"

"I am not sure."

Kate closed whatever she had been working on in the background and gave Nik her full attention. "Shoot."

"I... propositioned him. And he turned me down."

"I'm sorry, Nik. He might need some time to think about it. You know what he's like with this type of thing. And he's always been a bit... shy." It sounded strange to hear Laswell use the word 'shy' for John Price, expert in the field, thrice decorated for valour.

"I am not sure he will. He said he was... born wrong."

Laswell's face hardened. "Mhm."

"He used the word deformed. I tried to assure him that I didn't mind, but I think I... I think he was upset."

"He used the word deformed?"

"Da."

"Said nothing else?"

"No. Just that he was on medication for it but a gay man needs a real man, and--"

"That fucking asshole."

Nik blinked at the screen. This wasn't going like he thought it would either. "Shto?"

"Leave it with me. Give me until the end of the week, I know he's got a lot on. You deserve a proper--" she rotated her hand in front of the screen, searching for the right words, "--you deserve the full story. But it needs to come from him. He... He likes you a lot, Nik. He just hates himself more. Which is a truly breath-taking amount."

Nik frowned. John was hard on himself, of course; he had high standards. But he was pragmatic and self-loathing served no operational or personal purpose. "I feel like I have missed something important..."

"Not missed. You haven't been shown. But... yeah, ok, give me time. I'll... talk to him."

"Will he be okay?"

Laswell smiled gently. "Of course, Nik. He's just a grumpy, stubborn git."

Nik returned her grin fondly. "But our grumpy, stubborn git, no?"

"Yeah," she tapped at the keys, "get some rest. Let me play the wingman for once."

Nik nodded and the screen went black. Part of him wanted to go snooping; ask the lieutenant, perhaps Gaz. But he knew that John would almost certainly find out and that would risk any possibility of getting him on a date. Nik closed the laptop lid and sighed. Well, John was worth the wait.

[pope-codys]

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop” and Robby for the smut sentence prompts

Anon, your mind! I love this combo. Please don't be put off by the way I used the prompt, I ended up using it twice in this.

Also I'm insane and can't stfu so this is officially a fic.

send me a smutty sentence prompt + a character and I'll write a blurb

please don't stop - michael robinavitch x reader

summary: you and robby share a moment

pairing: michael 'robby' robinavitch x fem!reader

words: 2.5k

Tags: 18+, MDNI, power dynamics (attending x intern), smut, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, reader has hair, pet names (kid, sweetheart, babygirl)

authors note: this one goes out to all the 'robby's stomach' lovers and 'robby's hands' lovers (I blame this gif for how often i talk about his large hands)

You hadn't meant to find Robby on the roof, it just happened. After the long 12 hour shift, you needed a quiet place to take a breath while you waited for your roommate to get off work and pick you up. The roof had sounded like a good idea, far from the Pitt and away from anyone who might pull you back into the fray, asking for your help.

Your sneakers came to a sudden halt on the gravel when you spotted the large frame of your attending leaning against the rooftop railing. You stood for a moment holding your breath, hoping your lack of movement would keep your presence unknown. There were lots of reasons why Robby might need some time up on the roof-some perspective, some contemplation, some quiet-and the last thing he'd likely want is his intern intruding.

Despite your deer in the headlights approach, Robby glanced over his shoulder to look at you. Of course he heard you.

"You gonna stand there all night, kid?"

"I-" You took a deep breath, contemplating your words. "I don't want to disturb you Dr. Robby. I can leave."

"Ooh, there's plenty of roof to go around." Robby motioned towards the railing with a nod of his head. "C'mon." Without another word Robby turned back to look out at the Pittsburgh skyline. Your feet lifted after a second, moving you forward to stand next to him. Robby's forearms were braced on the railing, his hands loosely clasped together, which made him hunch a bit as he leaned his weight on the cold metal. You copied his stance, not needing to hunch since you were nowhere near as tall as Robby.

You both stood together in comfortable silence, elbows brushing slightly. Since the sun had disappeared about an hour ago, and the October air was edging towards chilly, the streets were mostly quiet. Eventually the silence lead you to speak, not exactly sure how to interact with Robby outside the ED.

"So, you come here often?" You asked, an innocent lilt to your voice. Robby looked at you suddenly, his eyes full of mirth, the crows feet by his eyes crinkling, and a surprised smile spread across his face.

"You flirting with me, kid?" A laugh bubbled up past Robby's lips as he asked. Your stomach dropped out of your body and your mouth dropped open in shock. You turned to Robby, waving your hands in front of you in panic.

"No! Oh god, no, I wouldn't-I mean-you're my boss!" Your voice rose in alarm and it made Robby chuckle more. He turned to face you too but he leaned his hip casually against the railing, clearly amused by your distress.

"That was a bad joke on my part, I'm sorry." Robby didn't look sorry in the slightest. "I know you wouldn't flirt with an old man like me." Robby's self deprecating comment was innocuous, his relaxed demeanor clearly conveying that he genuinely didn't expect a young woman like you to find him attractive.

The problem was that Robby was very wrong. You did find him attractive. So attractive that sometimes you found it hard to focus during your shift. It was everything about him-his voice, his commanding presence, his big, beautiful brown eyes, his glasses-he stole your attention throughout the day and you hung on his every word, absorbing all the knowledge he had. He was so caring and competent, able to switch between authoritative and compassionate like a good leader. And when his large hands encompassed yours during a procedure or he placed his hands on the top of his head in a moment of irritation causing his scrub shirt to rise up to expose his belly, it took everything in you not to faint on the spot. The man made you dizzy and lightheaded.

You nodded dumbly at his comment, silently agreeing with him-even though you didn't-and shivering when a sudden gust of autumn wind blew past you both. Your arms immediately went around your torso in a poor attempt to fend off the cold. Robby went from amused to concerned in the blink of an eye, standing up at his full height in worry.

"Hey, take this." Robby unzipped his hoodie, shucking it off and stepping into your personal space to toss it over your shoulders. Your body moved on autopilot as you slid your arms into the hoodie, putting it on. He was so close to you, you could feel the heat from his body, you could smell the detergent on his clothes-how does he smell so good after a 12 hour shift?-you could see the individual gray hairs in his beard, the beard you fantasized about late at night. Robby's hands, ever dexterous, connected the sides of the hoodie and zipped it up for you in a matter of seconds. His bare knuckles brushed against your throat as he let go of the zipper once it reached the top and something in you snapped.

In a moment of complete insanity, you pushed up on your toes, both of your hands rising quickly to grab the sides of his face, and you kissed Robby soundly on the mouth. Robby froze against you, going stark still as your lips pressed against his, his hands hanging in the air. You intended for the kiss to be quick, a fast declaration of how you felt but to your complete surprise and delight, Robby leaned into the kiss, his large hands coming up to hold your face, mirroring your position. He pulled you closer, your bodies finally touching. His beard scratched your chin as his mouth opened to push his tongue into your mouth.

Internally, you soared-externally, you whined into his mouth, pushing up further against him. One of Robby's hands left your face to snake around you and press his open palm against the small of your back, pushing you against his body as his mouth slid hungrily against yours. The strength of his hold had your knees weak and heat coiling in your belly.

You both broke the kiss to get some much needed air but you weren't separated for long. Taking a breath he leaned back in to press his lips to yours. His fingers curled into the back of your neck and you realized his hands were big enough to cup your face and reach around your head. God, you felt dizzy.

When your lips parted for another breath you sighed his name and that seemed to break the spell over Robby. He pulled back suddenly, hands on your shoulders to separate you two and force some distance.

"Don't stop, please don't stop." You pleaded breathlessly, your hands grabbing the front of his scrub shirt. Robby hung his head as he shook it, trying to collect his thoughts. You tried to pull him closer but his arms didn't budge.

"We can't, I can't." Robby brought his gaze back to you, his miserable eyes meeting your eager ones. "I'm your teacher, I'm your boss. We shouldn't be doing this-"

"You don't want me?" Your voice came out quiet and dejected, your chest aching as you felt your heart start to crumple. You let go of his shirt as your face fell into a look of sadness, your lips turned downward. Robby took one look at your sullen, pouting mouth and the way you physically deflated as you lowered yourself back down to flat feet, and he began to backpedal. The look on your face made him feel like a real jackass.

"That's-that's not what I said." He confessed. The thrill that shot through you at his words was almost comical. You immediately perked up, a brilliant smile shining across your face. You grabbed his shirt again as you moved closer to him, practically jumping with excitement. Robby, momentarily distracted by the beautiful look of exhilaration on your face, let you drag him closer. His large hands fell to your waist, his touch firm.

"Don't get any ideas." Robby said with an edge of admonishment when your fervent gaze fell to his lips and a voice in his head reminded him of the situation he was standing in-him (the attending) holding you (the intern) too closely on the rooftop of your work. He would be in so much trouble if anyone came upstairs in this moment. "I'm an attending, you're an intern," He said quickly as you continued to lean in closer. "I'm your teacher-"

"You say that like it's meant to deter me, when it's actually one of the most attractive things about you." You pressed your chest against him as your hands slipped up his board chest, over the sides of his neck, and to the back of his head to thread your fingers through his short brown hair.

"Kid…" He whispered in warning as you leaned in.

"It's okay," You whispered back, your lips brushing his as you spoke. "I want you too."

Robby groaned low in his throat as his hands gripped your waist roughly, dragging your hips against him. He leaned forward in the same moment, capturing your lips with his in a searing kiss. These kisses were hotter, more desperate than the last. It was like Robby was trying to crawl inside you and meld the two of you together. His warm hands slid over your back as his tongue moved past your lips, and your hands gripped his hair as you moaned into his mouth.

"We have to stop." Robby mumbled between kisses, his body acting contradictorily to his words. "Anyone could see us." You pulled back from him, your eyes bright with passion.

"Then take me home."

~

"Jesus fucking Christ kid, what am I gonna do with you?" Robby said, breathless. You pulled your mouth off his cock and licked your lips before speaking.

"A lot hopefully." You replied with a devious smirk before leaning back in to lick his leaking tip. Robby had done exactly what you suggested and had brought you back to his apartment (after you made sure to leave the Pitt separately to not draw attention and you sent your roommate a text to say you might not be home tonight). You hadn't been inside his home long before you dragged Robby to the couch, sank to your knees in front of him, and got his cock in your hands and mouth.

"Fuck." Robby groaned, his head falling back against the couch as you licked a line from his base to his tip. "You're killing me here."

"Great way to go though, isn't it?" You opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, sucking hard while one hand pumped over the rest of him. He looked back down at you and for a second thought about how he maybe died already and having you here on your knees between his spread thighs, sucking his cock into the sinful heat of your mouth with your lips stretched wide, was his heaven.

As you worked your mouth back down his length, one hand still pumped near the base of his cock and the other hand slid up and under Robby's scrub top to caress his stomach. Your hand spread wide over the bulge of his stomach, your nails scratching lightly as you managed (barely) to fit all of him into your mouth. When you swallowed, Robby saw stars.

"Fuck kid," Robby moaned, his hips rolling up and pushing his fat cock further down your throat. You gagged a bit and Robby leapt into action immediately as concern flared through his chest, grabbing your head to lift you off his cock.

"You okay sweetheart?" Robby's hands cupped your face, pushing your hair out of your eyes, and you smiled proudly at him while you took a deep breath. Your lips were puffy and glistening with spit, your cheeks rosy. You licked your lips when you made eye contact with him and nodded coyly at his question, your head leaning more heavily into his hand. The sight of you here between his legs, your eyes hazy with lust for him, made his cock ache and twitch. You reached up and took hold of one of his wrists to move his hand to the back of your head.

"I want to know what you like. Talk me through it. Teach me Robby." You pleaded, looking up at him through your eyelashes. You looked drunk off his cock, your face flushed and eyes begging. How could he turn you down? He was your teacher after all, just like he kept saying, and you wanted to learn.

Robby took hold of the back of your head and dragged your face back to his cock. You braced your hands on his powerful thighs, the anticipation of what came next sending fire through your veins. Robby direct you back to his tall length and instructed you to open wide. You obediently followed his instructions, like you always did, and took his hard, leaking cock back into your mouth. Robby guided your head up and down his cock in needy strokes as you sucked him off, your tongue pressing against the underside of him.

"Just like that sweetheart, good job." Robby complimented as he pushed you further down, inch by inch. The praise was like a lightning strike through you and you moaned around his cock. "Oh, don't stop, please don't stop babygirl." Robby knew he wasn’t going to last long, not when you were doing exactly what he wanted. One of your hands snuck up under his shirt again, roaming over possessively over his rounded stomach and the hair on his chest while you hollowed your cheeks around his cock. Lord, you made him feel desired.

"Look at you taking all of me, you're being so good for me." Robby moaned praises as his hips desperately pushed his cock up, fucking your mouth how he wanted.

"Sweetheart I'm gonna-oh Christ-I'm gonna come." You groaned something unintelligible around his dick, sucking harder. "You want me to come in your mouth babygirl? You want all of me?" You looked up at Robby through your lashes and lowered yourself all the way down his length in response, his tip hitting the back of your throat. Taking that as a yes, Robby continued to guide your head up and down his cock as his orgasm built and built and built until hot pleasure spiked through his spine and pelvis, and he was coming into your mouth.

"Oh, oh fucking Christ kid-" Robby grunted as he came down your throat, his cock twitching and pulsing in your mouth, his large hands encompassing the sides of your head while his hips thrusted up.

"Fuck, fuck-take it all babygirl, oh take it all." You swallowed him down the best you could before you pulled back, a string of spit connecting your mouth to the tip of his dick as Robby collapsed back against the couch cushions. Robby's chest rose and fell quickly, his head flopped back on the couch, as he tried to come back down to Earth after that orgasm. You smiled giddily at him while you sat on your knees, ecstatic at the good job you did.

When Robby came back to himself he looked at you smiling at him and couldn't help but smile back. He sat forward, reached past you, and grabbed a tissue from the coffee table. He cupped his hand under your chin and wiped the tissue over your mouth, cleaning away the spit and cum. You kept your eyes locked on him while he diligently and carefully cleaned you up.

"Thank you." Robby said softly. Your face split into a grin.

"Anytime Boss."

dividers by @ cursed-carmine

[lewismcqueen]

autumn in new york.

lh44 x black OC

summary: no idea what this is, you could call it a series of vignettes...? genre: fluff cw: suggestive, author has clearly never made pancakes before wc: 2.3k a/n: Sorry to Roscoe Hamilton for using u as a plot point. My first 'OC' fic! It's nice to occasionally use a name and describe a character without having to worry about it sounding universal enough ngl. Let me know if I should do more of these!

Lewis loves New York, but he always loses things while he's there: Sometimes it's a notebook, or a hair band. Maybe an entire phone case. Today it's his dog.

Roscoe had wriggled out of his reach when he took a visit to Central Park. Lewis doesn't remember when or how he got distracted, only that one moment he was staring at an oddly-shaped leaf on the ground and the next his dog had run off somewhere.

He looked out from beneath his Yankees cap at all the visitors—joggers, tourists, college students—and realized it might be a bad idea to go up to someone to ask for help. New York City was big enough to believably fake anonymity, but he was still on borrowed time. Lewis had no plans to break that spell early on and make finding his apparently stealthy pooch that much more difficult with autographs.

He set out walking along the main path again, careful to stay out of the way of bicycles and scanning the grass areas for a distinguished-looking English bulldog limping along, probably chasing a bird or something. He couldn't have gotten far; the dog was healthy but very old. Lewis just hoped to the heavens that he hadn't gone onto the road. He was soon relieved to hear a very familiar bark, underneath one of the big trees not far from where he'd been standing.

Lewis' eyes locked onto the brown-and-white shape of his dog with a precision known only by loyal dog owners and good human parents, and began to move immediately. Thankfully Roscoe had been trained well and hadn't tackled anyone; He'd plopped himself down next to a woman in a lemon-yellow pullover, whose face was obscured by the novel she was reading. The cover was worn, the spine cracked. Colorful tabs stuck out from the pages in all different directions to suggest that this novel was not a new purchase.

Lewis slowed down as he drew closer, a brisk autumn breeze nipping at his forearms where he'd rolled up the sleeves of a gray cable-knit sweater. She had a deep brown hand reached out by her side, scratching gently behind Roscoe's ear. The sight brought a smile to his face - it was good to know Roscoe would have been well taken-care of had Lewis taken a bit longer to locate him. Soon he came right up to where the woman's legs were crossed, the leaves crunching beneath his Timberland boots likely alerting her to his arrival.

"'Scuse me, miss? I'm really sorry about the dog—"

She looked up finally, meeting him with dark eyes set into a round, brown face. It was framed by a seventies-style blowout with voluminous feathered bangs, a mane of shiny coarse hair that was tussled by the wind. Lewis would remember most clearly the way that the top of her lips made a near-perfect 'M' shape, as if carved from expensive wood. The best part was when they parted in a smile. She had a dimple impressed into her left cheek that made Lewis want to thank whatever powers may be for causing his dog to run off. A smile like that, just for him. At least in that moment.

"It's alright," she removed her hand as she spoke. Roscoe's ears drooped as if disappointed. The sound of her voice sounded like it might be good for narrating audio books, Lewis thought. But only the lush, poetic kind of writing that matched the lilt of it. Books set in bayous and swamps, or anywhere with a lot of green. "He got a name?"

Lewis blinked, and remembered that he had just been standing there wordlessly.

"Ah—Roscoe. He's English like me."

He instantly began scolding himself internally. What kind of joke is that? She hasn't even asked where you're from!

Thankfully, this makes her giggle. "Where in England?"

Lewis knelt down and reached out a hand towards Roscoe, as if making an offer. "Well, I adopted him from—"

"I was…talking about you."

Lewis' eyes widened, and he cleared his throat.

"…Right."

One of the corners of those beautiful lips tugged upward into an uneven smile. He's too happy about the fact of her being amused by him to remember to be embarrassed. "Well, I'm originally from Stevenage. That's a little up North from London."

The woman hummed, then nodded. "You definitely haven't got that London accent I'm used to hearing. You know what I mean."

He raised an eyebrow. "You mean I don't sound like James Bond?"

"I mean you don't sound like Central Cee."

The woman's deadpan tone, combined with the idea of an American not knowing of any other British rappers, made Lewis burst into laughter as Roscoe trotted into his arms, accepting the subsequent scratches and pets as a reward. It really wasn't that funny. Maybe beautiful women just make him laugh harder than usual. The one sitting in front of him snorts.

"You got a funny laugh."

"How do you mean?" Lewis asks, still at the tail-end of chuckling.

She shrugs. "I dunno, it's like…weird. Cartoonish."

Lewis is no longer laughing, but he's not particularly offended, just confused. He tilts his head. "I don't follow."

"I like it, is what I mean. Your laugh."

Lewis' chest got warm with those dark eyes floating over his form. Considering him. Judging him, perhaps? He wants whatever verdict she comes to to be a good one, so he asks about the novel she's reading. It's by Toni Morrison, and he thinks the woman has a suitable voice for narrating a book like that.

She tells him that her mother loved Morrison's books so much that she nearly named her 'Sula' before having second thoughts and deciding against it. The name the woman's mother decided on officially is Deborah. A judge's name for judging eyes. Black and not just dark brown, he realized. Lewis keeps thinking that he'd like to stay beneath her gaze like this forever until Roscoe's indignant bark snaps him out of his reverie.

Lewis rises, lifting the dog into his arms with practiced ease with an apologetic smile. "I should get going. Thanks for…not kidnapping my dog, I think?"

"Hold on a second," Deborah interrupts, "I gave you my name, what about yours? So it's a fair exchange."

The dog wriggles a little in Lewis' grip. "Right, where are my manners? Lewis."

Deborah smiles warmly. "Cute."

His very own name. Cute. Gosh.

Without thinking, Lewis blurts out, "Could I call you?"

There's an excruciating pause as she blinks slowly, registering the request.

"Oh, you want my number!"

"I-I mean, only if you want. You don't really know me, and—"

"I don't mind."

"Huh?"

There's that amused look again, with an arched brow and tilted grin. "I said I don't mind. You wanna give me your phone now?"

Lewis leaves Central Park after that. With his dog, his cap, and a new number in his contact list. He looks back on this day and thinks that the yellow pullover the same shade as his helmet was a sign of fate.

-

"You're gonna chew a hole through your phone case if you keep going like that."

Deborah lay on her stomach over top of the blanket, swinging her bare legs back and forth absentmindedly as she watched Lewis gnaw on the corner of his phone case (the third one this year). She was meant to be finishing this novel she bought, but found observing her husband to be far more interesting.

He made a noncommittal sound, eyes glued to the screen of his Mac Book which balanced on his blanketed lap while he sent an email. Or that's what she guessed he was doing. Always emails to send. She sent her manuscripts back and forth between herself and her editor, Lewis answered messages from brands and sent mood boards. When the world ends, there will still be fuckin' emails to send.

Lewis guffaws suddenly, still as funny a sound as when she first heard it. Deborah realizes that it's because she had spoken that last thought out loud. His eyes crinkle at the corners when he looks at her.

"Are you bored?"

She waves the book in her hand. "Never."

"So what's with you looking over my shoulder and nitpicking me all of a sudden?"

"I'm not nitpicking you," Deborah reaches out across the bed to touch the bun Lewis has pulled his curls into. "Your hair's gonna break if you leave it tied up for too long, y'know."

Lewis lifted an eyebrow. "You are bored."

Shutting his laptop closed, he sets it aside and leans in to kiss her - on the forehead, then on the cheek. She giggles and rolls onto her side facing him so that she can pull him down by the collar of his t-shirt and peck his lips.

"I just wanted to bother you."

"Yeah?" Lewis rolls over so that she is caged between his arms as he hovers over her while she lay flat on her back. He leaned down and plucked the book out of her hands. "You've got my attention now."

He said it again between her gasping as he kissed and sucked at her neck, then when he pulled off her tank top before his own shirt. Lewis made it all the way down to her navel, not worried about tasting whatever fragrant lotions or body butters she'd slathered on that made it shine like that.

Deborah smirked beneath him, and ran a hand over his bicep. "I like your tattoos."

His eyes get murky. "I know."

She'd said it back when they'd first begun dating, clearly interested in more than just their meaning. It's become a dirty inside joke of sorts. Code for "take me home and put me through the mattress". Now she watches with half-lidded eyes as Lewis makes quick work of her cotton underwear. When they got married, she remembers, he pulled them down with his teeth when he was only meant to get the garter. Something in her shudders and melts when she thinks of it - the white of his canines against the brown of her flesh.

With both hands on either side of her hips, Lewis rests his chin on her stomach and looks up at her with sparkling eyes. "You know what your problem is, Debbie? You talk too much."

Rest assured, she wasn't going to do any more talking.

-

Lewis notices that Debbie's ring isn't on in the afternoon, while she's typing out a rough draft. She uses a bulky black Lenovo laptop that's older than his Mac Book and twice as grimy between the keys, but she won't ever get another one. He's standing behind her chair at the table as she writes, staring at the crumbs and flecks of dried paint between the 'L' and semicolon keys when her ring finger moves to tap the semicolon. That's how he notices. His brow furrows, a tiny pit growing in his stomach.

Maybe she's mad at him. But he doesn't remember what he did, working memory be damned, so he decides to make it up to her the only way he can: with pancakes.

The clanging of utensils and pans makes Deborah jump, and she whips her head around. "I'm writing, Lew. Can it wait?"

Oh, yeah. Definitely mad about something. But the pancake mix is already out and he's already greasing the pan with olive oil butter. Lewis turns and offers her a gap-toothed smile, like a scheming child.

"Nope, too late. Already making the best pancakes ever."

Debbie's eyes narrow, but he can tell she isn't annoyed anymore because her mouth twitches in the attempt to keep frowning against its will. She sighs—making sure he can hear it—and gently closes the laptop.

Lewis has tried a new trick with the pancakes, something he learned online. Steam and cover the pancakes to make them rise a bit more. Deborah seems to enjoy them as he watches her eat from across the table, and she doesn't seem to be eating begrudgingly. Her eyes narrow again when she pauses, and meets his nervous gaze.

"Why're you staring at me like that while I eat?"

He shrugs, and just grins weakly. "Just wanted to see what you think."

The sides of her lips quirk up in amusement. "They're alright. Could use a little maple syrup."

The reply comes a little too quickly, "I could always run down and get some. I mean, it's obviously way better in Canada - fresher, obviously, so maybe the next time I'm there I'll—"

"Lewis."

Deborah looks at him intently, halting his train of thought. "What are you so worried about? Did you do something? Your words are running together."

He exhales, visibly deflates like a hot air balloon that's been punctured, and runs his palm over his face. "That's what I'm trying to figure out."

Her brows knit together in confusion. "Baby, what—?"

"You took your ring off."

Silence.

Deborah's mouth falls open in near-shock, then she covers it with her hand. Then suddenly she's doubled over on the table. Laughing. Lewis does not look amused.

"Well, what's so funny?"

"I took it off to paint! I took out my oil paints this morning, Lord have mercy."

Lewis stares at her blankly for a moment, which only makes her cackle even harder until tears are forming in her eyes.

"…Oh."

Deborah sighs, swiping the tears away with her finger. "Go check my nightstand and see for yourself. Really! Assuage your fears."

He rises slowly from his seat, a more genuine grin forming on his face. He really is a doofus. Lewis enters the master bedroom and—sure enough—there it is, diamonds catching the sunlight and reflecting little rainbows onto of dark wood. They're inlaid throughout the entire gold band, with one square gemstone smack right in the middle. Of course she didn't want to get paint all over it.

Lewis comes back to the dining room table with it carefully between his thumb and index finger, and sets it beside her. His eyes glint mischievously as he rests his hand on the back of her chair.

"It'd really assuage my fears if you put it back on in front of me."

Deborah turns to him, rolling her eyes at him as she picks it up and slides in onto her ring finger. "So theatrical."

He leans down to press a kiss to her cheek, then behind her ear. "You're a writer, so it fits."

She leans into his touch, and hums contentedly. "It does."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Home Grown 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Cole Turner

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Cole and Eartha.

Summary: loneliness can drive one to desperate measures.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

"Can you be here tomorrow?" Cole has one arm across his chest, his other hand clutching his phone. "It's an emergency."

"Bud, you gotta understand," the man on the other end, the one who calls himself the Contractor, grunts as he speaks. "I'm a busy guy."

"I know. I'm sorry. I wouldn't call if it wasn't important--"

"HEY!" The man yells. "Gimme a second."

The line goes quiet. He's on mute. Cole waits and looks back at the men milling around his property. He's in too deep. He should never have gotten involved with these weirdos.

"Sorry about that." The Contractor picks back up, breathless. "Business. But you know what, I just finished up early so... I'll see what I can do."

"Really? Oh thanks. You're a life saver."

"Damn right, I am, farm boy." He scoffs. "Well, if I gotta haul ass to Buttfuck, Nowhere, I bet get moving."

"Alright, thanks..." The line clicks.

Cole blacks the screen as Peter emerges from the bunker door. He doesn't like thinking about it like that. It's a hideaway. Home. A haven.

"Not too bad in there. The one room should do for now." Peter says.

"I hope so." Cole chews his lip. "That girl okay?"

"Sy has her under control now. Dude," Peter grins. "Why didn't you tell us about this?"

"It's not done," Cole mutters.

"We coulda helped. We can. Sy has construction experience. Curtis too. I'm pretty handy myself."

"Maybe, yeah."

"Thor will be here soon. Just got the message. The girls can share." Peter says.

"Sure." Cole nods and turns away.

"Dude, it's gonna be alright. This place is perfect. Just tell us what we can do." Peter nudges his arm as he steps up next to him.

"Money." Cole says. "I need money."

...

Cole doesn't feel any better. The woman that Thor and Loki brought back looked sick. She wasn't even awake. And they dragged a walker in with her. He snuck some extra pillows past his mother for her but he's not happy about leaving her in there.

Peter and Sy agree to stay and watch the bunker. Thor is almost crying as his brother lectures him on the way out. Jensen and his friend, that man in his important suit, promise they'll figure it all out. Steve and Bucky leave looking distracted. Curtis drives off alone.

Cole doesn't sleep. He can't. He checks the feed over and over. Nothing. Her room is dark and she must have her phone face down. Fair enough.

He tosses and turns until the sun peers in. He gets up and showers. It's going to be a long day.

What the hell is this? They could get in a lot of trouble. Abduction. Really?

Sure, he was preparing but that's all. He never really thought it. Never even tried to go see her in person.

His phone buzzes on the nightstand. The noise is jarring in the soft morning. He swipes it up. Private Caller.

He answers. It's probably another ventilation salesperson.

"Hello?" He croaks.

"You better have coffee ready, farm boy." The Contractor growls.

"Huh?"

"Dark roast. Black." He hangs up.

Cole's stomach twists. Okay. Keep yourself together. Jeans, a shirt. Socks. One thing at a time.

He goes downstairs. He doesn't have any dark roast. He brews a pot. Dad will want some. If he gets up today.

He shoves his feet into his work boots and walks out with them untied. He stands on the porch and waits. A Corvette blows up dust as it zooms between the fields. He squints. It can only be him.

The car swerves and nearly spins out as the driver slams on the brakes. The tinted windows keep Cole on edge. The door opens and a man emerges; dark shades, shaved sides, and a bristly mustache.

"Farm boy." The Contractor greets. "Coffee?"

"Inside. Uh ... I only got medium roast."

The man huffs. Cole spins and rushes inside. He pours a cup and comes back out. He nearly stumbles down the steps as his laces lash around his ankles.

The Contractor takes the coffee and sniffs it. He snarls but drinks it. He swishes it around and swallows.

"Gross." He sneers.

"I can go get the dark roast," Cole offers. The man waves him off.

"One thing at a time, baby boy." He gestured with a finger. He reaches in his pocket with his other hand and the trunk clicks and pops open an inch. The Contractor points as he derisively sips.

Cole steps up and opens the trunk. His legs nearly buckle. Stuffed into the cramped trunk of the sports car is... Her.

"What the..." Cole utters.

"You said it was an emergency." The Contractor slithers.

"What?! That's not-- what did you do?"

"A mild sedative. Hey, I didn't touch her. Not much." He snickers. "Hard not to when she's struggling so much."

"Holy Jeez." Cole blisters and grips his head. "What--"

"Now don't be ungrateful, Turner." The Contractor snarls. "I brought you your prize."

"How did you even..."

"You're fucking around on the wrong side of the interwebz. I can find out whatever needs to be know." The man shoves the empty mug at him. Cole grabs it before he drops it. "Now, where's the fuck bunker?"

"Thats not--"

"It's exactly what it is, asshole. You think this is my first go round with freaks?" The Contractor snaps. "Now, we need to get this snacks out away," he scoops up the woman as her head lolls. "Before mommy and daddy see what a cretin they raised."

[hyperspecial]

age regressor guest 1337 headcanons

NOTE: i'm SO sorry for how long it took me to get to this request.. i hope you enjoy this, i tried to make it longer. guest isn't a character i think of often, so it was nice getting out of my comfort zone.

• I personally view Guest as a younger regressor, maybe around babyspace, 2-3. He doesn't like admitting it, however..

• Guest isn't picky with whoever is taking care of him, though he particularly enjoys Elliot and Chance's presence a lot. Noob is also nice to be around. (And 007n7, but he never really brings it up.)

• Doesn't use parental titles himself but he really loves the nickname 'buddy/bud' (makes him feel small ok...)

• He definitely struggles with being the one being taken care of.. I mean, the man who has fought and looked out for other's needs his whole life has to lay back and let himself be taken care of? Totally foreign concept to him.

• He's not fussy about regressing, but he'll push it off. Guest tends to ignore the feeling when it's present, usually one of his caregivers has to be the one easing him into regressing.

• Doesn't speak when he's regressed. He's not too much of a talker when big either, but it's amplified by five when little.

•If Guest is around any other littles when regressed, he tries to take on the role of a big brother. He gives them his toys an things. He still wants to be helpful!

• Due to his want to be helpful, he loves doing little tasks that people assign him. If you word anything as a mission or something, he will 100% do it.

Elliot: "Hey, buddy, it'd be a huge help if you went and changed into your jammies and go to sleep, okay?"

Guest: Okay! (Yay, I'm helping Elliot out. C:)

• He's super physically affectionate, loves holding hands. If he could, he would want to be held by his caregivers. (Neither Elliot nor Chance have the heart to tell him that they're not strong enough to pick him up, but Guest already knows LOL)

• Obviously despises loud noises when he's little (war veteran and is just sensitive in general), he prefers there to be no background noise like music or TV when he's regressed. (He's not really fussy but he can become irritable when overstimulated.)

REQUEST STATUS: CLOSED

TAG(s): @kelpy-kiddo @travylovesplushies @simonsayspoop @l1m3st0n3h34rt

NOTE: ANOTHER 10pm post. fought the demons (writer's block) to write this.... hope everynyan is proud of me ^_^ i actually surprisingly enjoy writing dialogue?

[yourfaithfulauthor]

Hey I saw your post about your Soap fic and although I'm not in the area of Scotland that I think Soaps from (I'm wayyy north) I hope it brings a little reassurance that Americanisms in fics never bothered me outside of dialogue for non-americans. I mean obviously I don't speak for everyone or all Scottish folk but honestly I find poor use of gaelic or Scots to be more annoying than Americanisms.

Also, I would love to hear where you placed Soap? (Maybe just the general area to avoid outing Neil Ellice's home town, and ofc i understand if you dont want to reveal it at all). I always thought his accent sounded like it came from around Paisley or somewhere around the South West of Glasgow.

Anyway, it's really touching that you would throw yourself so thoroughly into researching Scottish dialects and Scottish Catholic mass. There's still a lot of damage here about dialects, accents, class, and colonialism - so it really does mean a lot to see your enthusiasm and dedication to appreciating the culture your writing about.

Sorry, this is probably rambly and a bit too over the top, but please, I promise I do mean what I've said genuinely. I hope you have fun writing your fic and that you get many comments and kudos, and I'm glad to be sharing the CoD fandom with you.

This is the first ask I've gotten in years that wasn't a bot, thank you so much T.T Also thank you for being so sweet!

One: I am absolutely enamored with Scottish culture atm. I was born in the 90s when the Irish cultural boom was big in America, so I know a loooot about Ireland. And I was in high school during the English Invasion on Tumblr (Dr. Who, Sherlock, Dan and Phil, charlieissocoollike, etc.). But I never considered Scotland. And I'd be lying if I didn't say it started as hornyposting for Neil because whyyyy does he purr those lines so deliciously?

ANYWAY

There was this excellent Reddit post going through the myriad Edinburgh accents, so I definitely went Edinburgh first. But listening closer I hear that broadness that Glasgwegian accents seem to favor. So I actually have to change the scene now. -sob- I considered looking further south to see if I can clock anything else but I'm so woefully out of my depth. I'd have to listen to hours of Scottish interviews with, like, footballers to finally pin it down. ...which I may do. Undecided how crazy I want my boyfriend to think I am.

Re: Neil's hometown, my comment was just because we're near the same age and I know I would personally hate being stalked online, so I googled the one query and left it at that. No info, no need to go looking further lol.

Re: bad use of Scots/Scottish phrases - it grinds my gears mega-ultra reading fanfiction with Soap sometimes because I find that when you get into writing accents phonetically, you tend to lean into unconscious bias.

Soap uses a few choice phrases, right? "Pishin it doon" (We use that description in America, too, "it's pissin' outside". We also say it's "spitting" for a very light rain where the drops are infrequent), "steamin' Jesus", and "creepin' Jesus." I'm trying to think of other phrases he might use but I'm too lazy to check the "All Soap's dialogue" YT video I have pulled up.

Point being (who's rambling now?), I think that Soap himself isn't overusing Scots either. Call it code-switching if you will, but if he's not canonically saying the phrases, I'm reticent to put them in my fic.

I'm big, BIG on research and since the CoD boys are basically "action figure with tragic backgrounds", I think what little crumbs of characterization we get are even more important. Depending on if you're a purist for characters (meaning OG vs reboot have separate pasts) or what I call "reform" (mix those shits together!), I think it matters even more. Since we got way more characterization from OG by way of supplementary material and more characterization from dialogue in the RB, I'm in the reform camp to allow for a far more fleshed out set of characters.

Anyway thank you so much for the kind words! I'm so glad my silly post reached you and heartened you, and thank you for buoying me! I'm having a ton of fun doing this research, even if it feels a leetle creepy to go and research someone's probable actual church or apartment to get the visuals for the scenes haha.

[bi-panicatthedisco]

Beyond The Screen.

Scarabia Part.

[Heya, author here! Love the scarabia dudes! Kalim may be my favorite out of them, but Jamil has grown on me so much haha. I hope I didn't mischaracterize them too badly lolol, this is one of my first times writing them this extensively. But as always, remember to drink some water and get some rest! And I hope you have a great rest of your day!!!]

One of the last things you would've expected after downloading a game like twisted wonderland, is for the characters to leave the dang game and show up irl! But things rarely go as you expect, and this is something it's nice to be wrong about.

It was a pretty regular day when it happened, just sitting down and playing twst. Only for an impromptu single pull on the banner, turning into SSR particles and a fancy coffin. Of course you're getting excited. But instead of showing your new card, you have the character fall right out of your screen onto the floor in front of you. Oh goodness gracious...

-----------------Kalim al-Asim-----------------

Kalim practically falls onto your lap, he looks excited to see you. He's been waiting a long time to meet the player! They've been really nice to him just like a friend, and he's never been able to say it back! As soon as he realized he was gonna see you in person, he became super happy. Obviously he wants to hug his friend!

"PLAYER!!! Ahaha I'm so glad to see you! This definitely calls for a party! Jamil? Oh, I guess Jamil couldn't come with. Maybe I can go back and bring him, since he really wanted to meet you too? Huh, I don't actually know how to go back though. Well no need to focus on that! I can throw a party just for us right now, then I can figure out how to get Jamil here too so we can all celebrate together!"

And throw a party he did! It might not have been as elaborate as his usual parties back at scarabia, but it was a heck of a time! Even despite the confusion that still is lingering from a Fictional Character showing up in your house. Who's currently setting up a game of mancala, and completely ready to teach you the rules if you don't understand. It's super fun!!

Kalim is having the time of his life, I mean he gets to hang out with the player for the foreseeable future? And they're being really nice to him? This is a dream come true! He knew they would be close if he ever got to meet them. I mean they were really nice to him even while he was just a character to them! He already knows they'll let him stay with them, and he can't wait to get to know them better!

-a few months later-

There's never a dull day with Kalim. Even when he isn't throwing a party, he's pulling you to look at some new thing he made, or a new pet he adopted. Even though he understands he can't buy you as many gifts as he'd want too, having given you his jewelry early on to pay for his stay here. He still makes you a lot of homemade gifts! Often based off the things you do together, when he insists you show him around your world.

Kalim has been having the grandest time as well! Not only has he gotten much closer to you than basically anyone else, but he doesn't have to worry about assassination attempts! Your world is so amazing! He wishes he could stay here forever! That doesn't mean he'll give up on finding his way back home, but... Maybe he put it on hold. And he has to admit he doesn't like the feeling he gets when you mention him going home.

"Huh? Home? Yeah, I've been working on it! I bet Jamil is worried sick about me. But I wanna focus on enjoying the time with you right now! Can we just do that for awhile longer? Please...? Sorry haha, I don't wanna bring the mood down!"

Kalim looks... Anxious? Just for a moment. He doesn't wanna go home if it means leaving you, but he doesn't even know how to say that. He just knows he won't leave if he can help it!

------------------Jamil Viper-------------------

Jamil manages to catch himself fairly easily, not one to be caught off guard by a simple drop. What does catch him off guard however is fully seeing your face for the first time, so close he could reach out and touch it. His breath catches for an instant before he regains his composure. Shaking his head before speaking.

"Ahem, sorry player. It's lovely to meet you. Although I have technically Met you before, through your screen I mean... Nevermind. in any case, I trust you'll let me stay here with you? Unless all those words of flattery were false~"

He has a sly grin on his face as he takes your hand in his, obviously already knowing how much you care about him. And believe me, he's ready to take full advantage of this. Please understand he doesn't intend to misuse your good intentions, but he does fully intend to exploit them as far as they'll go. I mean, you know better than most people who he is, and yet you still care about him. You're either naive, or just don't know what you're getting into.

Either way, Jamil loaths to admit he's grown (very slightly!!!) fond of you through that screen. And will not let that affection you have for him stray, even the slightest bit. Here, he won't have to hide anything or hold back. Here, he can be completely free. So he's not going to let that slip away. He's already planning how best to keep everything perfect, and he's not above using his unique magic should it become necessary. Although deep down, he really hopes it doesn't come to that.

-a few months later-

It's nice having someone around to help with the chores, Jamil knows that more than anyone. So of course he's been doing that for the last few months, and still getting up early to make breakfast before going to a job he was able to get. It was just at a fast food place, but he quickly become a manager. So it's not the worst? He'll never bring you food from there if he can help it though, he doesn't want you eating anything except for his cooking.

He's been becoming increasingly paranoid about you, a strange feeling in his gut whenever you leave your home without him. Worries and doubts just don't leave anymore, except for when you're near and have your eyes solely on him. He's not sure what this feeling is exactly, but he already promised himself he wouldn't hold back at all in this world. Especially when you come up to him and ask again about when he's going home.

"Sigh... We've had this conversation a hundred times, I'm working on it. Don't you trust me? And besides that, is there a reason you want me gone so badly? Here I thought I was one of your favorites. ...nevermind, I made dinner. It's your favorite. Let's just eat."

Hmph he might as well not start a fight, it'd be frustrating to have you upset with him. But he's never going back to that world, not while you're in this one.

[atopfourthwall]

On a less emotional note, I'm sorry if I already asked you about this and forgot, but I've been watching a few of SF Debris' vids about DS9 and Dukat, and apparently the character went through a very...odd shift. In that the villain gains enough layers and nuance to the point where people start seeing him as not a villain; only for the writers to overcorrect it and establish his villainy as undeniable, but tossing away all that nuance. I was wondering what your own view on it was? Are there other examples of this happening in media you enjoy?

See, I have no problem with the villain shift. I don't even think his ending arc is particularly bad like a lot of people do. No, my problem is two-fold with him: 1-There should not have been any connection between Dukat and Kira's mom. Just makes things squicky and weird given how he treats Kira over the series plus slightly contradicts some earlier minor continuity stuff. 2-Him becoming more overtly villainous is perfectly fine - just because Space Hitler has some nuance and respectable qualities doesn't mean he isn't still Space Hitler and it was important to remind people who were forgiving him that he was Space Hitler. Waltz is where the shift is supposed to happen. Dukat makes his big impassioned defense of his actions, that he wasn't so bad, that he was fair and just... while descending further into madness and reminding us "Oh, yeah, he thinks that murdering 200 suspected people - not convicted, just SUSPECTED terrorists - is justice and not really fucking evil." His delusions and self-aggrandizement gets stripped away, his excuses and justifications fall apart even in his own eyes until he realizes "Oh, I actually fucking hate the Bajorans and want to kill them all because they don't love me for being their superior!" And you see that conclusion evident as he screams at Sisko "I have unfinished business on Bajor! They thought I was their enemy?! They don't KNOW what it is to be my enemy, but they will! From this moment forward, Bajor is DEAD! All of Bajor! And this time, not even their Emissary can save them!" It's a good moment, it's the shift of his character to being dedicated to destroying Bajor... aaand then NOPE. At first you might think given his next appearance in the season finale with the Pah-Wraith statue "Oh, he's continuing his arc," except then he tells Damar and Weyoun "Actually, I blame Sisko for my daughter's death and not you, Damar, even though I called the Defiant to go pick him up instead of leaving him to die." And then he uses the Pah-Wraith to close the wormhole. But then suddenly "Actually now I want peace with the Bajorans and have started a Pah-Wraith cult!" Admittedly, maybe you could argue it's because these Bajorans are all worshipful of him like he wanted, but it feels pretty unambiguous to go "I SHOULD HAVE KILLED THEM ALL" to "Nah, it's cool - they like me so it's fine!" Sure, in the finale he's all "Mwahahaha, the Pah Wraiths will burn across the galaxy" but his anger was originally directed STRICTLY at the Bajorans and now his motives seem a little broader for no good reason but otherwise doesn't really care about his specific vendetta.

[neuroticpeach]

Curses' Break 3

Rui Mizuki x Reader

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Chapter 3: Embrace

GN!Reader will use they/them and (Y/N).

CWs for this chapter:

Rui has an anxiety again but it's ok

domesticity

date time!

help they're so cute

oh hey, another familiar character

huh. this chapter ended up longer than anticipated

anomalous creatures

author accidentally learned some things while researching

cheesy, fluffy lines (you know you secretly love them)

Click HERE to start at Chapter 1

✦•······································•✦•······································•✦

Chapter 3: Embrace

You didn't expect to wake up to a panicked yell, twisting and flying blankets, and the loud thump of a body hitting the floor, but maybe you should have. 

  “(Y/N)! Are you okay ohmygod–!” 

  Drowsily, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and looked up towards the culprit of your unconventional alarm. Rui's face was shocked-pale, sweat breaking out on his brow. You noted the lines the fabric of the pillow had left on his cheek–he must've slept without moving much–and the way the clothes he had worn the day before crumpled off-center on his form; it was quite a difference for someone who usually looked so well-kempt. 

  He was kneeling on the floor on the opposite side of the bed, legs tangled in a blanket he had taken with him in the abrupt fall, eyes wildly darting over where you lay.  

  “It's okay, Rui! It's okay!” you quickly consoled him as you sat up. “I'm okay!” He stilled a bit as he took in your words, his breath slowing. “I'm okay. It's okay.” 

  Seeming to gain a better idea of where he was, of what had happened in the still so fresh interim, he finally regained a more composed look. “...Shit,” he swore quietly, momentarily resting his forehead on the bed before looking back up to you apologetically. “Sorry. Sorry. I thought…” 

  You nodded. “Yeah. I understand.” You offered a small, sleepy smile. “It's… new for you.” 

  He wiped a hand across his face, pushing back blond bangs. “You're not kidding,” he muttered, then sheepishly grinned in your direction. “Sorry for the rude awakening.” 

  You shifted in the bed, bringing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. “I didn't have the heart to wake you,” you confessed. “And I could only get a sheet over you without touching you. Don't worry, though, I made sure the pillow wall was secure.” You rested your chin atop your knees. “I know you haven't slept in… a while.” 

  Color slowly returned to Rui's cheeks as he uncoiled himself from the sheet and slowly rose to his feet. “Yeah. You might say that.” He twisted around a bit, stretching in the wrinkled, day-old outfit, but seemed to be regaining some of his usual demeanor. He winked in your direction. “Better look out! If I get too much beauty sleep, I'll just be irresistible~” 

  You giggled. “I don't want to resist, though,” you quipped back, stretching some as well. “Plans for the day?”

  The (former?) Reaper effortlessly started to pick up blankets and sheets, moving into a tidying mode with practiced ease, fluffing pillows and even straightening the bedskirt. “Well, I thought I'd check on the rats and let them have some play time while I took a shower,” he explained. “Jiro was saying that as long as the room doesn't have a lot of wires or like… dangerous things for them, they should free roam for at least an hour a day. And there's a small study just off one of the bathrooms that could work well for that.” 

  “Mm-hmm.” You watched him happily as he moved around the room. He probably didn't even realize he had gone into chore mode, but watching him brought a calm to your thoughts. The word domestic came to mind, and not unpleasantly. 

  With a flourish, he spun back around towards you, leaning over and planting his palms on the bedspread as he looked levelly into your eyes. “Oh. And don't think I forgot about our date,” he added, beaming. “That'll be lunchtime for us.” 

  You tilted your head to the side curiously. “You still haven't told me what we're doing. Only to dress in something ‘water resistant, comfortable to walk in, and not a swimsuit.’” 

  He winked at you. “And I'm still not telling. Don't want to ruin the surprise. But I think you'll like it.” 

   “Even if I can't hold your hand yet?” You trailed your fingertips in circles around where Rui's rested on the bed, and he sighed, longingly watching your hands as he stood back upright. 

  He crossed his arms, less for a defensive posture over his chest than to keep himself from reaching for you. “Yeah,” he smiled back, but you could see the sadness simmer in his eyes. “I hadn't expected to be cured just yet when setting everything up.” The corner of his smile perks up just a little more. “Not that I'm not super grateful.” 

  Tossing another wink your way with a blown kiss that you caught from the air and returned in kind, he started for the door. “Love you, (Y/N),” he called softly, his cheeks and even ears dusting pink as he did so. “Thank you for loving me back. And for always…” His hand paused a moment on the door frame. “...waiting for me.” 

  “‘Love is patient,’” you quoted cheesily, drawing a laugh from him. 

  He sighed dreamily. “You must love me a lot, then.” 

  You grinned, tossing a pillow his way that he easily parried. “Go shower, Rui!” 

  “I'm going! I'm going!” 

  -oOo- 

  You were thankful for the advice on comfortable clothes as you followed Rui along in Obscuary's forest, delving deeper than you had before. His brown leather jacket was a thick enough layer that he didn't flinch when you grabbed the back of it for balance when traipsing over a particularly knotty tree root. 

  “Easy there,” he chimed, standing still for a beat so you could right yourself, grinning over his shoulder. “We're almost there.” 

  “How can you tell?” you teased, not wanting to let go of the jacket just yet. “There's no trails or anything this way.” 

  The blond tapped his nose and winked, causing you to close your eyes and sniff at the air. After a moment, you looked back at him questioningly. “Water? We're near a body of water?” 

  “Yup, good call,” he agreed, then laughed when his stomach grumbled audibly. “Oops. Pardon me. Guess it's good I have this.” Slung on his arm was a large basket holding what you could only assume was your lunch. 

  Further confirming your guess, you soon could hear the telltale trickle of gentle waves at a bank. Like a magic trick, Rui grinned as his gloved hand (old habits) pushed back a large fern to reveal a picturesque scene. 

  The anomalous equivalent of weeping willows draped over a small pond. The water was clear enough in the dark of Obscuary's eternal night that you could see a slow fade into blackness that twinkled, creating an illusion of space completed by the moon's reflection. Vegetation flocked eagerly to the water's edge, its bioluminescent light reflected in every color of the rainbow. 

  “Oh, Rui,” you sighed contentedly, heat rising to your cheeks. “It's beautiful.” 

  The ghoul smiled back at you, clutching at his chest a moment. “Not as beautiful as my view,” he replied, eyes softening and focusing on you. Your cheeks reddened a little more, matching the blush that rose in his cheeks, too. 

  “Ah, Ojou-chan! Rui! I hope I'm not interrupting!” 

  You jumped a little at Haru's cheerful and loud voice as he came onto the scene, but Rui didn't. The blond greeted his friend with a wave. “Harurin! You're still here?” Rui looked around curiously as the redhead got to his feet, having been situated in a kneel at the water's edge, behind a large phosphorescent mushroom that had initially blocked him from view. “Everything go okay?” 

  “Yeah, yeah, fine!” Haru chirped back. “Just making sure the family was getting adjusted to their home, that they didn't need anything.” 

  “‘Family?’” You looked askance from one ghoul to the other. 

  Rui chuckled, giving you another knowing wink. “Part of the surprise for our date. You'll see.” 

  Haru squinted more (was that possible for him?) at the two of you for a beat before his own cheeks reddened in a blush. “Ah, yeah. You two lovebirds probably don't need a third wheel, haha!” he laughed. “I'll see you both later! Have a good time!” With a quick Bahnti! the redhead hurriedly disappeared. 

  Rui waved for a prolonged moment, then immediately set to work, gesturing to a spot that was relatively clear near the bank. He opened the basket, revealing some neat meals like you had guessed, along with a blanket and a couple cushions. “A picnic date~” his sing-song voice tilted as he spread the blanket and started unpacking some meals. “With a perfect spot for the show.” 

  One of those lovely fluttering and warm shivers that you were quickly growing accustomed to around this man went down your spine as you took a seat on one of the proffered cushions. “‘Show?’ ‘Family?’” You cocked an eyebrow at him. “You really went all out for me…” 

  “Not at all,” he smiled back, attentively setting a meal between the two of you. “I'd do even more if I could. But it's more the thought that counts, right?” Ruby eyes sparkled in your direction. “And you're always on my thoughts.” 

  “Keep talking like that,” you laughed, “and I will have high blood sugar at my next health check.”

  Rui stumbled dramatically back, feigning shock. “It isn't already? Because you're so sweet?” 

  “Rui!” You squealed a little bit with laughter. and his laughter joined yours. “That's laying it on a little thick, even for you!” 

  “Better get used to it, cutie.” Another wink. “I can't keep myself away from you.”

  “I wouldn't have it any other way.” Your voice softened as the two of you started to relax into your seats by the waterside. 

  As you both started on your meal, you let your gaze shift out onto the sparkling water. You watched as the wind blew through the willow-like leaves that hung over the pond, sending little ripples where the trees’ stems danced ever-so-lightly across the surface. 

  And then you started to notice the singing. 

  It was almost too quiet to hear at first, and it wasn't in a language you thought you had ever heard before. Gentle, sweet, and almost melancholic, what started as white noise soon seemed to envelope the both of you. You looked back at Rui, and he grinned, held a “shhh!” finger to his lips, and then pointed back out at the water. 

  Your first thought was mermaids, but you had seen a real mermaid before. Your second thought was sirens, but the music, while beautiful, wasn't mesmerizing or drawing you physically in. Then you saw them: 

  There were three, and they were humanoid in shape but little more than two feet tall. Seemingly genderless and ageless, the creatures seemed to literally dance on the water, holding what you assumed were hands in a circle. Their pale gray skin was translucent, almost ghostly, and they seemed to generate their own glow. 

  “They're called Asrais,” Rui whispered, just loud enough to be heard. “They usually come from Scotland. Someone had liked them so much that they tried to take them to Japan, but they were intercepted by one of our missions. They're sort of like a lot of other animals that people try to domesticate: seem like a good idea at the time, but taking care of them is much more difficult.” 

  “How so?” The Asrai didn't seem to notice you, continuing their strange dance. 

  “Well, they need water for one thing,” he explained. “And darkness for another. If they get even a hint of sunlight, they dissolve into a mere puddle.” 

  The Asrai separated, sinking a little lower into the water and flitting around in a way that reminded you of synchronized swimmers; the water didn't seem to interfere with their song. “So Obscuary is perfect for them,” you surmised. 

  “Yup. That's why even though they originally went to Jabberwock, Harurin helped us get them shipped here.” The three twirled and twisted in the water, their song picking up speed. Rui chuckled, allowing his volume to increase a little. “Sounds like they're getting playful now.” 

  He was right; soon what seemed like a ballet shifted, music and dance both taking faster and more cheerful crescendos. One of the Asrai seemed to take notice of you, and it flashed you a very human-like smile before skidding excitedly across the water towards you. It veered away at the last second, sending a spray of water in the air like a car near a puddling curb. 

  Both of you laughed in the sudden shower, and soon the other two Asrai mimicked the first, seeming to find joy in your reactions. 

  “That's why you said ‘water-resistant!’” Your laughter mingled with shrieks and squeals of joy as the beat continued to pick up. The Asrai changed course continuously, in no time spreading the water spray into measured consistency, making it seem like a private rainstorm. 

  Rui got to his feet, giving a little bow and holding out a gloved hand. “May I have this dance?” 

  “Of course!” 

  The ghoul held one hand low and one hand high. You stepped towards him, arms moving up as though for a waltz. Both pairs of hands hovering so as to avoid actual contact, you swayed and stepped with him in circles around your soon-to-be-soaked picnic blanket. At least at first, your little dance was loose but formal. 

  Then, you doubled over with laughter when Rui stepped back, switching to very silly and very exaggerated more modern steps, his hair and clothes clinging to his grinning visage. The Asrai seemed enthralled with the playfulness; even the translucent creatures let out tinkling, song-like laughter. 

  Eventually, everyone seemed to be tiring out, including the “family,” who soon sunk away into the pond. Soaked and red-faced, you and Rui peered at one another as you caught your breath. 

  “So.” His grin, you thought, could not get any bigger. “Not a bad show?” 

  You vigorously shook your head, grinning back. “That was amazing.” 

  An eternity seemed to pass between the two of you, but you couldn't stop smiling, couldn't look away. Your heart hammered against your ribs, and you were certain he must hear it. Of course, his heart was beating so hard, he thought he was going to melt. 

  “Can I hug you?” The request fell from his lips before he could stop it, his cheeks absolutely flaming. “This jacket is thick, and I still have my gloves, so–” 

  You practically threw yourself into his arms. 

  Shaking, he let his arms wrap around you, the pressure of your embrace, the warmth he could feel even through the layers, making his heart soar. 

✦•······································•✦•······································•✦

Chapters... Prev....Next

[starscream-is-my-wife]

Do you have a list of your ships or what ships you would draw?

I can try to make a coherent list!

I think they can work with anyone

Including each other

Listing them with all of the characters will take too long

I just wanna see them get railed

They are my favorite ship

Match each others freak

Gay baby jail for both

I used to ship them with more people but then I just started feeling bad for the other bot

The only exceptions are the universals + skywarp, they can enter the megastar prison

Ok making a chart for all of them will take too long here’s bullets

Prowl:

Jazz - I’m a simple man

Blaster- I like these three in a throuple

Constructcons- ngl I didn’t read the issues where this was a thing but the fan comics were funny and that’s enough for me

Jetfire:

Thundercracker- oh don’t get me started

Wheeljack - I think they are great working together plus identity drama

Ratchet- he’s always saving his life, cuties

Bumblebee - I like them together, also their size difference is comical

Optimus prime- I like them, even though I sometimes like to make them father and son, I can flip flop family or not family, this applies to Ratchet and Bumblebee too

Soundwave:

Shockwave - I’m a simple man

Blaster- he brings out the most emotion in Soundwave and it’s funny every time

Optimus prime:

Ratchet- of course

Ironhide- they’re like old college buddies who make out

Prowl- everyone thinks they’re having boss and employee relations

Jazz- everyone KNOWS they’re having boss and employee relations

Shockwave- I can see it, also completes the biggy titty gang

Wheeljack- they’re like. Everyone’s dad. Neither of them are the carriers children just spawn.

Windblade:

Chromia - even though I don't like the Windblade plot, I think they're neat

Arcee - I can explain, is it a crime to have my two fav femmes to fuck nasty a little

Bumblebee - I want them to married if they're both available at 30 for fun, but it actually causes a lot of drama

Other ships I like that I can think of:

Hound x Mirage - you wouldn’t know they’re making out because they’re invisible

Shockwave x Elita - kind of? I think they can be funny

Galvatron x Sunstorm - old joke on this blog

Starscream x Skelethor - actually I don’t remember if I shipped this or megastar first they’re both my favorite characters from old cartoons, but now Megatron and skelethor is the same person it’s all come full circle

Other shipping notes:

I’m not that attached to any M/F other then the two :(

If you request incest sorry, I can’t do it :(

I used to like megop, I don’t know what happened? did I get bored?? Shame, I usually like to get into the most popular ship because it has the most stuff, ik that isn’t the point but it feels like I’m missing out

Ngl more I liked Jetfire/ skyfire as a character the less I shipped skystar

Sometimes I see knock out x breakdown but since they’re always together i don’t know who’s who and at this point im too afraid to ask

There’s probably 4 or 5 male characters that I like a lot and I think would top 100% of the time, Optimus is one of them

If it's hot or funny enough I'm down

[burning-academia-if]

July Monthly Update

God, what a month, huh? (If you only want the game update skip the first paragraph)

So, July was a lot in a variety of ways. Part of it for me, was related to my health. If you don't want to read about health stuff, skip this paragraph! I'll try not to get too in detail either! Anyway, if you've followed me for a while you know every monthly update I mention I've gotten sick again. The reality is, they've been pretty bad episodes. And the long and short of it was I had to go to the ER in July. Tldr; my kidneys probably don't like absorbing potassium so my body shut down because of it. I am fine now, mostly!!! Like most of my other health issues, it's easy to manage with medication. Now I have to see the kidney doctor, neurologist, and maybe start physical therapy. The state of my health has 100000000% affected my writing pace for the past year or so, and is honestly why chapter 3 took so long to come out. I have a lot of tests to do going forward, and hopefully they'll figure it out why my kidneys started doing this. "But em, why are you also going to a neurologist and starting physical therapy?" You know what, this is already too long, don't worry about it LMAO I just thought I'd update y'all because obviously my health impacts my work output!

OK with that rant out of the way (sorry), a short update: Due to the above, I'm probably not going to be answering prompt or situation asks rn!!!! I'm sorry!!! It feels illegal to put a hold on them after almost 2 years, but I want to use any bandwidth I have on the game. When I feel better, they'll be back!! I might still answer them on occasion because I use them as a warm up sometimes, but they'll pretty much be paused otherwise until September or October. Honestly I might be less active in August in general!

For the actual progress report: I officially love chapter 4, but also, I lied when I said this is going to be shorter than Chapter 3. It's probably going to be around 70k as well, and I blame the tutoring side quests because those were. A lot longer than intended LOL I think those totaled out to 20k words alone. In part because it's a lot of MC figuring out what they can or can't do in regards to magic and necromancy. I got carried away a little but I was having so much fun I don't really care LOL I also hope people love the side characters as much as I do, or at least don't hate them (they're all Annoying, I say, with affection) because you'll be seeing a lot of them.

There's a lot of other stuff going on with this chapter that's very fun, too! I've mentioned before that I don't want to share much of it because it's spoilers, but you can at least have this for the monthly preview! The scene where ??? finally starts referring to MC as 'Little Moon.'

[ohburgee]

So, if you all are wondering about my long absence and not posting fics, there’s something I was going to tell. Actually, I ended up throwing the idea away. So if one of you saw the post I did, yes, I stopped writing that story. Because being a writer is not about having to write your own story. Being a writer is already inside. I don’t need to prove myself by writing my own story to be one. Even if I only wrote fanfics here for Block Tales.

I really wanted to be a writer before. I really wanted to write my own story, my own universe. But I already did create my own universe, which is my Roblox game. I wrote the lore, the characters, the world-building of the game. That’s what being a writer is. Because I used to think I needed to write my own story to be a writer, no. I was already a writer, because of my game.

I used to be a yandere writer, because I really loved horror and dark stories, so I became one. That’s where I started writing and slowly built my confidence. Until I lost my spark for writing yandere. I went to an old fandom I was in, WH40K, which inspired me to write stories because its lore amazed me, and the Primarchs lit up my passion to write fics for them. But I ended up feeling left out from the fandom. Even though some people supported what I wrote, I could see the fandom didn’t really notice new people. They were more into the older ones, or writers who had more attention. So, I left the fandom.

Then I found Forsaken. This game in Roblox brought me back to playing Roblox (actually, not just that, it was also because of Creatures of Sonaria). The game was really cool, and the characters too, so I started writing, especially for my favorite character, Mafioso. I didn’t expect so many people to love my fics, but they did, so I continued. I wanted to make people happy and entertain them with my writing.

But after that, my best friend told me to leave Forsaken and stop writing. I didn’t stop because of what he said, more like, I don’t play the game anymore. And if I did keep writing fanfics for Forsaken, it felt like I’d be using the game just for attention and fame. Also, I was losing my spark to write, so I left. And that’s when I turned to Block Tales.

Block Tales made me feel safe and comfortable writing fics for that fandom. So I continued. I expected that not a lot of people would read Block Tales fics, but I was wrong. So many people read, loved, and supported my fanfics. I didn’t stop playing, and I stayed in the fandom, not because of writing fics, but because I could see Block Tales. A childhood pixel game I loved most, just like Earthbound. So I didn’t leave. I stayed and supported Block Tales.

I know I said I quit, and I did say it officially because i lost the spark but i was in the middle of overthinking that time (I'm an overthinker). I really did. But I was wrong.

I realized that many people here, you, my stars, are still here. Still waiting for new fics from me, new writings from me. Even if I’m slow to post. Even if I’m never the kind of writer who writes fast, you’re still here to support and love me. If I just quit for a not-so-important reason, it would feel like a crime to me. Like leaving my children for milk and never coming back (hahahaha).

So I’ve decided to stay until my Roblox game is created and published.

Oh, and about my Roblox game, yes, I’m creating a Roblox game. After I left my group/team development in the past, I dreamed of creating my own game in Roblox. So I planned it. And now I’m working on it, slowly, but surely. So, when my game is finally created, that’s when I’m going to stop writing Block Tales fanfics. Not to quit and leave, but to honor myself. To honor my growth and what I’ve become. To honor what I wanted to be. And to make all of you, my followers, my stars, a part of my journey to become a small game developer all on my own.

I might post a sneak peek of my game when I start building it, because I want you guys to be part of this journey with me.

I’m sorry for being a slow writer. And a person who has remix thoughts, choices, and decisions. But sometimes, being someone who stays silent and makes the wrong choices is the best way to discover what you really want. So that’s what I did.

I’m sorry again to anyone who expected me to quit writing Block Tales fanfics.

But now, I’ve made my real and true choice.

I hope you all understand what I’ve been through. The thoughts about my dreams, and my reputation.

Speaking of that story, my original story. I actually do want to write one, but not a fantasy story. This one is connected to something I cherish and hold close (I don’t want to say what it is yet, so it stays a mystery). But this story will be something much deeper than fantasy, romance, or anything like that.

It will be something that people need to see. Need to read. Something that your soul needs to feel.

Mhm, yeah, I’m going to stay. Writing fanfics for Block Tales. Accepting your requests, your ideas, your support, and your love. I’ll keep working on my Roblox game, and along with my college. And soon, I’ll reveal what my original story will be :>

I know all of this might be confusing and misunderstood. So I’m keeping my inbox open for you, to send ideas again, and to ask me anything you want (about anything :] ). 💛

Gee: Thank you to my best friend, guy, for showing me and telling me about this and for telling me to find myself, what i truly wanted. Also, the tags for anyone, my followers to know what's happening to me, since i knew some don't check my blog, so they kinda like just scroll through the tag (I'm not a stalker, my overthinker thinks it is).

[ikamigami]

Shitty NOTICINGS ABOUT SPAMTON part 2

Part 1 is here

Spamton - Jevil

Spamton not only knew Jevil but he knew that Jevil also had the same knowledge he got from benefactor:

"I USED TO BE NOTHING BUT THE E_MAIL GUY, NOW I'M THE [[It Burns! Ow! Stop! Help Me! It Burns!]] GUY! <- here he talks about turning into puppet (which personally I don't think it was caused by acid)

[[Amazed at thi5 amazing transformation? You too can]] HAVE A [[Communion]] WITH [[Unintelligble Laughter]] <- see it was caused by something else hence the communion like in some sort of religion and we all know that Spamton believes in Heaven and that sponsor is a higher being

SOON I'LL EVEN SURPASS THAT DAMNED [[Clown Around Town!]]

BUT UNLIKE HIM I'M GONNA [[Shoot For the Sky!]] AND GET ON THE PATH TO ...

[[The Big One]] <- he wants to meet with god but not to become a god himself but to ask god to make him a real boy (the Big One reffers most likely to Gaster)

I'LL GET SO. I'LL GET SO. I'LL GET SO. I'LL GET SO. I'LL GET SO. I'LL GET SO.

[[Hyperlink blocked.]]" <- this I think means that he can be loved only as a real boy cause the way he is now he's unlovable cause why would everyone abandon him otherwise? (yeah I think hyperlink blocked means love/LOVE)

Anyway...

You see that part about clown?

It's about Jevil. Spamton had different idea of freedom. He wanted to be a part of Heaven.

But does it imply that Spamton was contacted by benefactor before or after Jevil or were they contacted at the same time?

This is really interesting to think about.

Another thing is that both Spamton and Jevil changed their forms after meeting or talking with a stranger - most likely Gaster (Mike was playing a different role) - Jevil is a Joker card but now seems to be a Jack in the Box while Spamton is a spam emails and he's now a puppet.

Spamton - Knight

Spamton seems to know who the Knight is.

Though he wasn't afraid even if he apologized for mentioning Knight cause he didn't lose colour in his cheeks.

The only time he loses colour in his cheeks is when he mentions Mike - and now we also know why Tenna said that Spamton was pale during last phone call cause he lost colour in his cheeks.

Spamton having red cheeks all the time except when he's really afraid reminds me once again of Ekubo who is called like that (Dimple) because he has permanent red dimples indicating constant smile.

Spamton also doesn't have colour in his cheeks when he's in Neo form. Probably because he doesn't have to smile all the time despite still having this huge puppet like jaw.

Sorry there's not a lot about Spamton and Knight (⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠) (for now)

Spamton - Mike (Friend)

Another interesting thing, Spamton seems to call Mike a criminal despite not wanting Tenna's crew to know anything about him:

"(...) WE DON'T NEED [[MIKE]]!!!

... ... Mike... <- he lost colour in his cheeks in this moment

KRIS!!! DON'T BELIEVE [[Anything You See On TV!]] THE MAN'S A CRIMINAL, I TELL YOU!! A CRIMINAL!!" <- Tenna seems to be fond of Mike but he doesn't know Mike like Spamton does hence why we shouldn't believe Tenna

I'm pretty sure that Mike is Friend and that Mike is right hand of Gaster who uses Mike/Friend to puppeteer Spamton (I'll try to explain it in different post cause I'm just sharing my thoughts here).

While Spamton might be calling Mike a criminal because it took everything from him my personal take is that he knows what Mike did - you know the whole thing with Dess' disappearance.

I saw some people saying that Friend is a spider and it'd still fit with him controlling Spamton cause Spamton looks like an insect.

Spamton - Gaster

While Spamton using Pipis as an attack is a parallel to Mettaton using eggs as an attack in Undertale, in Deltarune it is assumed that character associated with eggs is Gaster - another connection between Spamton and Gaster or just a coincidence??

Another thing I forgot to mention in previous post is that while Tenna and Ramb imply Spamton in their dialogue none of them say his name (even Seam doesn't call Spamton by his name while he says Jevil's) as if his name was somewhat forbidden to say aloud.

The only person beside Spamton himself who calls him by his name is Kris - if we choose to call him that ofc but I think that this is Kris' choice even if ultimately choice depends on us. (I believe it's important)

[yukipri]

Nezha has me in a stranglehold

the gay mythology Chinese boys are dragging me out of art slump, so have some quick sketches of Nezha & Ao Bing

(psST go see movies!!!)

~~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, TRANSLATE, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. To share, please reblog! Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!!!

❀ You can see the rest of my art through the Masterpost pinned to the top of my blog!

[beargregor]

wait i'm curious, what makes you say that gregor doesn't like everyone else (if i read that post right)? just curious since i've never seen anyone else say that

i don't necessarily think gregor dislikes everyone else at lcb but i do think that gregor is an incredibly petty person that isn't nearly as close to the rest of the sinners and even outright dislikes some of them cough cough rodya cough cough which a lot of people just Refuse to see because he's as much of a doormat as he is. there's several examples i could get into to try and prove my point however i'll just focus on what i personally think to be the biggest ones.

additionally, this is going to be kind of long, so i'm adding a read more. read more! read it. sorry for being so wordy. i have several diseases.

Pt1. gregor is the type to try and get along at least decently with everyone, especially if he gets a good first impression from them.

this is less a point in favor of gregor's distance w/ the rest of the sinners and more just a contributing factor to it. once again there's several examples i could point to here but i think the most in your face one happened in canto I with yuri, as several people have pointed out. even before gregor comes clean about growing attached to her as quickly as he did because she reminds him of his sister, we get this interaction.

i'll go ahead and make the disclaimer now that i don't necessarily think gregor is the most reliable of narrators, especially when it comes to his feelings and interactions with most people, but from the way he acts when the topic of yuri comes up (and the way we still see him act even all the way up to c7, nearly a whole year after yuri's death) i don't see reason to question his sentiment here. gregor immediately got that aya and yuri were close, potentially even taking note of their traded belts, and went out of his way to get something nice for yuri despite hardly knowing her.

i feel like a lot of people have forgotten as much, especially since it's been so long since c1, but gregor actually spent a good bit of season 1 doing the exact same thing with the other sinners! gregor reads a connection between him and ishmael pretty quickly despite getting off to a rocky start

mostly because gregor can tell that ishmael is pretty sardonic in a very similar way to him. there's been multiple instances where ishmael and gregor have essentially expressed the same sentiment at different moments, most notably gregor's little argument after ishmael got shot with a decay ampule in c4

and ishmael's response to pilot talking about self-sacrifice in c5

i could go ahead and pull up more examples, but in general pm has gone out of their way to show us that gregor and ishmael are pretty similar, so it makes sense for gregor to assume that they're friends, right?

this will be pushpin 1. keep note of this for Later.

ishmael's only the first sinner we see gregor trying to do this with in s1, we also see him try it out with heathcliff, sinclair, and ryoushuu

he's tried to get along with charon, being one of very few sinners that we've seen actually try to establish a connection with her at all

even rodya, despite my insistence that gregor doesn't like her nearly as much as the fandom thinks he does

all of these seem pretty fine and dandy, right? sure it frequently leans towards self-degradation, micromanaging, and commiseration, but gregor can at least be pretty chummy with most of the sinners, can't he?

Pt2. hell's chicken was more than just comic relief guys please

i'm fully aware that this is quite the hot take, but i think hell's chicken deserves a lot more credit for character writing than the fandom gives it. hell's chicken gave us foreshadowing for several events, such as the donqui bloodfiend reveal

heathcliff's distortion in c6 (as well as hong lu's highly speculated distortion at some point in the future)

and ryoushuu and sinclair's continued connection by making him the odd one out on her team

which, hey! that implies something about gregor's odd one out, don quixote, too, doesn't it? yes. yes it does. that's pushpin 2. keep note of that for later.

speaking of pushpins, hey! that's pushpin 1!

splitting into teams is one of the major events in hell's chicken, and most of the sinner's choices are either motivated by very little, backhanded, or motivated primarily by not wanting to be on the opposite leader's side. i didn't include all of the picks, just because i feel like including most of them already gets this across, but i think gregor took one major thing from this: most of the sinners, when push comes to shove, will only side with gregor when they refuse to or can't take his opponent's side.

now, don't get me wrong, i'm fully aware that this is primarily intended to be comedic relief, but when gregor is being described as having his trust broken by ishmael or nearly crying because no one on his team properly sided with him for him, i feel like it's pretty fair to read into this.

something that i think is pretty important to remember in conjunction with this is that we know that gregor is the type to hold a grudge, both from his general attitude towards the G corp soldiers in c1 as well as his continued distaste for vergilius

even beyond the splitting into teams of hell's chicken, the sinners have given gregor plenty of reasons to feel bitter. i feel like this is something people have noticed but haven't really put a finger on, but it's kind of wild just how often the rest of the sinners make gregor the butt of the joke

and sure, we could argue that a fair few of these aren't really made with any ill intent. quite a bit of it could have been meant as harmless teasing, but with gregor being more sensitive than most, it coming from nearly all sides, and as often as it does? yeah, i think he's prone to taking it a bit personally.

Pt3. yes i do still think gregor was the third most important character in canto VII you guys gotta hear me out okay

of course, all of this leads up to the bit of the story i highlighted, doesn't it? c7? i totally get why people haven't really picked up on all the gregor things i did in it, seeing as they were mostly not *directly* said about him or by him.

personally, i think that gregor's distaste for talking about himself on any serious level and thus leading to him getting sort of "sidelined" narratively (which i take issue with that claim, but still. it's effective for getting what i mean across atm) is supposed to lead players to take a deeper look at the times gregor gets held up to other characters and compare and contrast what's being said about them by the matchup. as i showed earlier with his immediate latching onto ishmael, i think this is something gregor himself is at least partially aware of too.

so, that begs the question, who was gregor compared to in canto VII that makes me think it's one of the most critical pieces in understanding his character?

really, i'd like to avoid getting too lost in the analysis of this canto specifically, since i'd like to do a proper post about this later, but i figure i can bury the lede a little before doing it properly.

c7 features several characters being made to perform in sansón's play, acting out the relevant backstory for this segment of the plot. a lot of these characters have rather direct, degrading reasons for playing the roles they do.

outis, a character with an inflated ego who wants her journey to have a purpose, is made to play an aimlessly wandering villager with a single line.

hong lu and ryoushuu, two characters for whom families and the expectations placed upon them are likely going to play a major role, are made to play bloodfiends.

rodya, a character who resents her lot in life and is constantly shown to be eager to leave her destitution behind her and become someone special, is made to play a helpless villager that's too poor to even offer any money to the hero that saves her.

heathcliff, a character that has spent most of his life getting dehumanized by comparing him to beastly animals, is made to play a literal bear whose sole purpose in the plot is to get beat up and then quickly left by the wayside.

sinclair, a character that has two opposed parties essentially treating him as a macguffin to procure for their side, is made to play the character who was arguably the catalyst for this entire canto, not to mention playing a decently major role in ruina.

our star don quixote is made to play her father, the first kindred, but there's someone by their side the entire time, isn't there? don quixote's dear, steadfastly loyal companion. a character which don quixote has tasked themself with getting to come out of their shell?

hello again, pushpin 2.

gregor has been made to play our unreachable star, sancho. someone had to, of course. you can't really tell a story without it's main character, now can you?

now, i should once again give a disclaimer. i am not trying to say that i think adapting what happens to donqui/sancho in c7 to gregor is the road pm is going to take here, not only would that toe a bit past the line of foreshadowing, but it'd also just amount to rehashing that plotline again, which i don't think would make for a particularly exciting story.

what i DO think is that we can take a lot of the things that are said to either directly be the case for sancho and use them to inform how we see gregor.

and god, does playing sancho have some fucking implications for our favorite ossan archetype.

starting off, the earliest moment we get to see of sancho is quite literally her just waiting for death to take her in a pile of ashes.

which, i should remind everyone, is actually pretty damn close to what happens to gregor's literary counterpart at the end of the metamorphosis. gregor samsa experiences one final breaking point that pushes him over the edge and makes him decide to just wait for starvation to take him.

gregor and sancho both consider themselves to no longer be human, something which sancho goes out of her way to highlight repeatedly throughout the canto and gregor is quick to get defensive on her behalf for when outis starts really tearing into her

sancho spends quite a lot of this story denying herself the joys of community and friendship, despite knowing that, even with the rest of the sinners frequently making jokes at her expense and outright insulting her, they were things that she desperately craved.

and, while this is getting into my "outis is a red herring meant to distract us from gregor's eventual betrayal" theorizing, i also think it's worth noting for this discussion that sancho's fellow kindreds, her family, all seem to be under the impression that she dislikes them and ultimately her departure was an act of betrayal

and that, despite gregor being one of LCB's resident mood makers and attempted conflict de-escalators, one of the sinners that's most prone to making appeals to the bonds they've all forged together, only him and faust remained silent during everyone's speech

so yeah, i think there's quite a lot of little details and hints building up to the reveal that gregor's not quite as fond of everyone as he presents himself to be. i do think a lot of this ultimately comes down to gregor getting in the way of his own happiness, similarly to donqui, particularly because he's been frequently portrayed as something of a self fulfilling prophecy, especially by giving him as many christ allegories as they have by way of priest and garden of thorns. gregor is convinced that the rest of the sinners don't like him because he's not convinced anyone could like him, so he convinces himself that he hates them because why should he care if someone that he hates hates him too?

a lot of this ultimately ties back to my personal interpretation of what happens in the metamorphosis as well as my own theories regarding all the times gregor has made weird callbacks and references to lobcorp and ruina, but yeah. i think about this guy and his deeper characterization a fairly normal amount, i think.

to end this off i'll highlight one of my favorite little "gregor is fucking seething and trying so hard to keep it cool" moments, in the credits CG for c7 we see rodya teasing him by drawing a little horse on his window and actively pointing and laughing at it, which gregor really doesn't seem all too pleased about.

i personally think this ties into the other cruel part of sansón forcing gregor to play rocinante, which is the more literal "he's actually just straight up playing rocinante" side of things. gregor was quite literally made to play something less than human, less than even animal really, as he was reduced to nothing more than the shoes don quixote wore as she got to play the leading role. sansón directly makes jokes about gregor being nothing more than shoes in the play twice, which adds to this reading, i think.

this, imo, really plays into the adaptation of the metamorphosis! i've seen a lot of readings for the book that posit that, despite being the protagonist, gregor samsa can't really be considered the main character due to nearly everything he experiences in it being used to further his family's character development at his expense, which i think fits nicely with limbus gregor seemingly having the most said about him through indirect means by holding him up to other characters. also it's rodya carelessly making fun of His Big Major Insecurities™ again like she did in c1 which i always find fun. rodya i love you but god you're the worst.

[halflifebutawesome]

genuine question am I the only one around here that sees the gman as actively antagonistic or am I the outlier