#they observe so many shenanigans

[singswan-springswan]

zutara aladdin au you know I'm right

[ficsiwontwrite]

I like the stories where bingge goes dimension hopping to find a ‘kind shizun’ for himself, those are great, I like them even better when he ends up with other characters instead (usually shen jiu, but it’d be a great setting for binghua too)

Now, in a sy x lqg au where sy transmigrated in a npc, that world’s binghe grew up admiring his shishu (lqg) and his cultivation partner but they where never close so he just got a puppy crush in his past but he’s over it and thats very embarrassing to remember, actually

Binghe grew up learning to be a kind and smart cultivator, the hero worship made him subconsciously emulate sy, even if he’s still a bit of a manipulative and snarky little shit at heart

Meanwhile Bingge already knows the soul he is looking for is not always reincarnates as sqq and learned after many worlds to keep a eye open, last time the kind shizun was just getting into a committed relationship so he won’t be slow next time!!!! He’s pissed

What I’m saying is soft (but not really) binghe x bingge who’s very proactively trying to seduce him

[moviecritc]

✦ ˚ : · PUBLIC RISK · : ˚✦

pairing ☆ bruce wayne x fem!reader x clark kent

word count ☆ 3.5K

summary ☆ after being well received (and a tease) at a gala, bruce and clark remind you that you are theirs.

warnings ☆ mdni, teasing, threesome, double penetrating, subby!reader, petnames, dirty talk

a/n ☆ they're back!! can be seen as a part 2 of morning shenanigans or stand alone

main masterlist | letterboxd

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

The moment you step out of the bathroom, Bruce lifts his eyes from his cufflinks and freezes.

The black satin dress hugs you like it was stitched onto your skin. High neckline, open back, and a slit so high your thigh teases with every step. You’re not wearing any underwear.

You watch Bruce’s jaw tighten. His hands slow. His eyes linger on the line of your hips like he's calculating how many steps it would take to get to you.

Clark’s whistle comes from the bedroom. “Damn, darlin’. You're gonna kill someone tonight.”

You glance over your shoulder, a little smirk on your lips. “That’s the plan.”

Clark walks closer. He’s in a fitted tux, bowtie still undone. He cups your waist, palms warm and heavy, noticing your lack of underwear. “You’re not really gonna go out like that, are you?”

You tilt your head. “Why not?”

Bruce clears his throat from behind you. “You’re not wearing anything underneath.”

“Observation or complaint?” you ask, not looking at him.

Clark chuckles low. “She’s testing us.”

“She’s succeeding,” Bruce mutters under his breath, then takes a slow step forward. “We’re already running late. Let’s go.”

✶✶✶

The ballroom is vast, golden and glittering like a dream. The chandeliers shimmer with refracted light from the champagne flutes, and every laugh or polite murmur is softened by the delicate strains of a live string quartet in the corner.

And you? You're a vision. Dress clinging like silk poured over you, lips glossed in something dangerous, eyes sharp behind a lazy, confident smile. You’re not arm candy. Not tonight. You're the storm people pretend they don’t notice until it's overhead.

Bruce knows it. He walks beside you with the quiet, self-assured calm of a man who could crush every one of these people if he wanted to. But you feel it, the tension in his fingers at your waist. The way his jaw tics when another name drops yours with too much familiarity.

Because they all know who you are now.

The pitch you led last quarter shifted something seismic in your industry, and now they can’t stop talking about you. They want to know where you’re headed next. Which company you’ll disrupt. Which alliance you’ll shatter. They smile too wide when they ask. They lean in too close.

You know exactly what you're doing when you laugh a little too loud at someone’s compliment. When you touch a shoulder as you walk away, or rest your fingers on a lapel to admire a tie you don’t actually care about.

You can feel Clark’s presence just behind you, like heat, like gravity. He’s always close, always watching. You catch his gaze once as a young tech mogul with a little too much cologne tries to impress you with a half-drunk TED Talk summary. Clark’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. His hands are in his pockets, but barely.

And then it happens.

A sharply dressed Japanese investor steps in front of you, blocking your path like you’re the only person in the room. His English is flawless, his smile even more so.

“You’re even more beautiful than the articles say,” he says, voice smooth, eyes warm. “No wonder the boardroom feels a little colder without you in it.”

You laugh softly, tilting your head, playing with the stem of your champagne glass. “That’s a dangerous thing to say to someone with this much leverage.”

“I’m a risk-taker.”

He lingers. A beat too long. His gaze drifts, lips, collarbone, hips. Just enough to make Bruce’s fingers dig into your waist, almost imperceptibly.

And then Clark is there.

No rush. No drama. Just sudden proximity.

“Everything okay over here?” His voice is velvet-wrapped steel. Calm, too calm.

The investor tenses. Smiles, awkwardly. “Of course. Just admiring brilliance.”

He excuses himself with a nod, vanishing like a puff of smoke.

You glance over your shoulder, just in time to see Clark’s eyes tracking the man’s retreat. His jaw is tight. His shoulders are tense.

“You two are gonna get us kicked out of here,” you murmur, a wicked little grin on your lips.

Clark looks at you. Really looks. His gaze drops to your mouth, then lingers on your throat, your dress, the slit at your thigh that keeps shifting every time you move. His voice is a low threat.

“You think I won’t put you over my lap right here?”

You lick your bottom lip slowly. “I think you won’t.” You lean in, voice like a secret. “Because Bruce would get there first.”

You feel Bruce’s breath at your ear before he speaks. “Sweetheart,” he says, a hum beneath his words, “You know I love sharing. But if you keep this up, I’ll make sure you’re walking out of here with my handprint on the back of your thigh.”

You bite back a grin, the rush of adrenaline blooming beneath your skin. “Maybe I want the attention.”

Clark steps closer, blocking you from the rest of the room with his body. “Then you better enjoy it while it lasts.”

Bruce’s fingers slide down to the curve of your hip, grip firm. “Because once we’re home,” he says, and his mouth brushes your ear, “you’re not getting anything else until you beg.”

You shiver, not from cold, but from the thrill of control shifting between them. Being the spark between two storms.

“Tease,” Clark mutters, but his voice is hoarse now.

You raise your glass. “You love it.”

Bruce leans down, pressing his mouth just below your ear. “Not as much as you’re going to love what comes next.”

And suddenly, you’re not sure if you’ll make it to dessert without starting a war.

✶✶✶

You’ve barely stepped through the door when the tension snaps like a pulled wire. The click of the lock is loud, Clark slams the door shut behind him, hard enough to make the walls tremble. You don’t even have time to take a full breath.

Bruce doesn’t say a word. He shrugs off his suit jacket with deliberate slowness, muscles tight, controlled, as he tosses it onto a chair. His eyes never leave you.

You turn to walk toward the bedroom, pretending you don’t notice the way your heels echo against the floor, how your dress clings to the shape of you, how every movement is calculated, designed to provoke.

You can feel Clark behind you. Not just his footsteps, his presence. Big and hot and crackling like a live wire. He doesn’t let you get far. One step. Two. And then—

“Take the dress off,” he growls, voice low, rough, and entirely too close to your ear.

You pause. Not defiant. Not disobedient. Just savoring it.

But apparently, not fast enough.

Fingertips brush your zipper. Slow. Precise. He drags it down your spine like he’s unwrapping a gift he’s been waiting for all night. Maybe he has. You exhale, just a little, as the fabric loosens. The dress falls down your body like water, pooling in a soft shimmer at your feet.

You step out of it. Deliberate. Bare.

Bruce’s gaze rakes over you. He’s undone the top buttons of his shirt and is working on his tie, knuckles flexing. His voice is dangerously even when he speaks:

“You knew exactly what you were doing in that dress.”

You tilt your head, meeting his eyes. “Of course I did.”

Clark’s hand slides up your bare stomach, his chest pressed against your back. His breath is hot against your ear.

“You think those bastards at the gala deserved to look at you like that?”

Your breath catches. “No.”

His arm wraps fully around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“Who do you belong to?” he asks, voice darker now. He already knows the answer. He just wants to hear it.

You lean back into him, heartbeat thudding. “Both of you.”

Bruce steps closer, slowly, eyes darker than you’ve ever seen them.

“Say it again.”

“I belong to both of you.”

His lips twitch. Approval. Possession.

“Good girl.”

He crosses the room without taking his eyes off you and opens the drawer beside the bed. There’s the soft sound of fabric rustling, and then, in his hand, a sleek black blindfold.

He holds it up between two fingers. Smirking.

“Let’s see how well you behave when you can’t see who’s touching you.”

You swallow. Heat blooms low in your belly.

The blindfold dangles from Bruce’s fingers like a promise, or a threat. He steps behind you, trading places with Clark, and you feel the shift in the air, the difference in how they touch. Clark is fire, always, but Bruce is all precision. Cold fingers grazing your jaw, tilting your head back.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs.

You obey.

The fabric comes down over your eyes, soft and cool, cutting off the light in a single breath. Your world narrows to sound and sensation, footsteps on hardwood, the rustle of clothing, the weight of their presence.

Then nothing for a moment.

Just anticipation. The kind that prickles up your arms and sends a shiver down your spine.

You flinch slightly when warm hands cup your breasts from behind — Clark. He brushes his thumbs over your nipples, and they harden instantly. You gasp. He chuckles.

“Sensitive tonight,” he murmurs into your neck, and nips at the skin just below your ear.

Bruce’s fingers trace your ribs, then your hip, then lower. He doesn’t touch you where you want it, not yet. Just brushes his knuckles along the crease of your thigh, slow and maddening.

“You wore that dress without any underwear,” he says quietly. “You wanted people to stare.”

You nod, barely able to breathe. “Yes.”

“And you liked it,” Clark adds, nuzzling into your shoulder.

You whisper, “I only wanted you to see me.”

There’s a pause. And then Bruce’s voice, right in front of you now, you can feel his breath against your lips.

“You’ve got our full attention now.”

Clark’s hands guide you backwards until your knees hit the bed. He urges you down, slowly, making you sit. The sheets are cool under your skin, and you reach blindly, but Bruce catches your wrists before you can touch either of them.

“Not yet,” he says, calm and stern. “We’re going to enjoy this.”

They take their time.

Clark’s lips against your thigh, working higher, higher, never quite where you need. Bruce kissing up your chest, tongue flicking against one nipple while Clark palms the other. Fingers spreading your legs apart. Someone’s mouth teasing you, too soft, too slow. Every nerve in your body sparks like it's being played like an instrument.

You writhe. You whimper. You try to move, but Bruce holds you down with one hand on your stomach, firm and unyielding.

“Where’s that patience you had at the gala?” he murmurs.

Clark laughs against your skin. “She used it all up making us jealous.”

You feel teeth at your inner thigh, and then a tongue. You moan, back arching. Still blindfolded, still bare, all you can do is feel. Mouths, hands, the press of fingers inside you, stroking slow and then faster, rhythm syncing between them like they planned this.

Clark’s fingers curl just right, and Bruce’s tongue draws a slow, devastating circle, and you shatter with a cry you don’t even recognize as your own.

But they don’t stop.

Bruce kisses your inner thigh as you tremble, one hand stroking along your hip, grounding you. Clark hums low, pleased, as he eases his fingers from you and kisses your stomach, your ribs, the curve of your breast.

“Already shaking?” Clark teases, lips brushing your collarbone.

You try to speak —something clever, something biting— but all that comes out is a whimper. You’re floating, undone, your body not fully yours anymore, not when it responds this easily to them, to this.

The blindfold stays on. You don’t even think to ask for it off.

You feel movement, the creak of the bed, the rustle of a zipper, the sound of a belt sliding free.

Then Bruce again, at your ear.

“Hands and knees, sweetheart.”

Your breath stutters. You obey.

The sheets are soft beneath your palms, the air cool on your back. You can hear both of them behind you, Clark’s rough breath, Bruce’s quiet composure unraveling at the edges. Hands trace your spine, your hips, reverent and greedy at once.

You feel Clark first, thick and hot, his cock brushing against your folds. He groans, low and deep, as he slides just the tip in, then pulls back, teasing you with slow, shallow thrusts that make you gasp and rock back, wanting more.

“You’re soaked,” he growls. “You ready for both of us?”

You nod desperately, words lost.

Bruce’s hand tangles in your hair, pulling gently, just enough to tilt your head back. “Use your words.”

“Yes,” you whisper. “Please.”

Bruce moves behind you, his hand guiding himself as he presses closer. Not inside yet, just nudging against you, against Clark, against the tight slick heat they both want.

You freeze, overwhelmed. But Clark’s hand strokes your lower back, grounding you, and Bruce kisses your shoulder like a promise.

“We’ll go slow,” Bruce murmurs. “You’ll take all of us, sweetheart.”

Clark eases in again, deeper this time. You bite your lip, moaning. Then Bruce, pressure, firm and steady and you feel the stretch, the fullness, the raw overwhelming more of them both.

They don’t move right away. They wait. Letting you breathe. Letting you feel it.

“You’re doing so good,” Clark says, voice thick. “Fuck, you feel incredible.”

“Perfect,” Bruce mutters, and then he thrusts. Slow, deep, counter to Clark’s, and the rhythm begins.

You can’t think. You can barely breathe. The blindfold is soaked from tears you didn’t know you shed, not from pain, but from the raw flood of sensation.

They move together. One thrusting as the other pulls back. Building. Tension thick in the air. Clark’s fingers grip your hips, bruising. Bruce strokes your spine with surprising tenderness, even as he fucks you hard enough to make the bed creak.

You moan helplessly, caught between them.

“You wanted to tease us,” Bruce grits out. “Now look at you.”

“So cocky at the gala,” Clark adds. “Couldn’t shut your mouth. Can’t say a word now, huh?”

Your only answer is a cry, hoarse and wrecked, as heat builds again, fast, blinding. Your body clenches around them both, and they feel it.

“Gonna come for us again?” Clark growls.

“Beg for it,” Bruce demands, hand tangling in your hair again, forcing your head back.

“Please,” you gasp. “I need it — I can’t — please, please—”

They thrust together, deeper, harder. The pressure builds, impossibly tight.

And then you break.

You scream, body pulsing around them, hips jerking as your orgasm crashes over you like a wave. They follow seconds later, Bruce groaning low and rough, Clark cursing as he grips you tighter. Filling you, burying themselves to the hilt as they come undone inside you.

For a moment, everything is still.

The only sound is your ragged breath, their heartbeats pounding in sync with yours. Then Bruce eases back, sliding free with a groan, and you collapse onto the bed, boneless. The blindfold slips off, and warm hands catch your face. Clark’s.

“You okay, darlin’?”

You nod slowly, eyes unfocused, dazed and glowing. “Never better.”

Bruce is beside you a moment later, tucking the sheets around your body like it’s instinct. He presses a kiss to your temple, his hand gentle on your waist now.

“You were incredible,” he murmurs.

You smile, slow and satisfied, eyes drifting closed.

“And you,” you whisper, “are both mine.”

Clark laughs softly. “No argument here.”

Bruce just kisses your shoulder, silent agreement.

And in the quiet aftermath, tangled sheets, trembling muscles, the burn of claimed skin.

You’ve never felt more adored. Or owned.

[wakayrd]

you may be able to tell I'm still trying to figure out how to draw Odile- I have so much in my brain for like. community theatre au the siffrin doodles yesterday wasn't even the half of it. I'd love to talk about it more and more lol Like my local theatre I imagine all people do a little bit of everything because there's so many roles to fill and only so many hands so if you're ready for my silly ramblings look below lol

Odlie has to be a SM- I can't not picture her as one she'd be so good at it- She's really detail oriented, observant and organized. Maybe sometimes she acts too, but that's a very rare occasion. She likes the organization part of it very much. Sometimes she receives gifts from her crew which is a bit "???" to her because she's just doing what she likes to do, not realizing to others its so much more than that. The crew tries to guess what sort of job she has outside of the community theatre lol Isabeau does a little bit of everything!!!! Isabeau shows up for set construction, works backstage sometimes and recently has started going onto the stage too! He also loves to help with costumes and especially making things for historical pieces and doing the research on historical fashion. Siffrin's favourite hobby during rehearsals now is to try and get Isabeau to break character. Sometimes it works and Odlie has had to tell the both of them to cool it a little (it's all good fun though and never too disruptive- both of them do love the theatre and have respect for it!). Once Sif made a joke during a performance and Isa wasn't able to hold back the laughing that TOTALLY got picked up by the mics (and the audience heard it). The two of them got the appropriate scolding for it after from Mirabelle and Odile. I do have little ideas for Mirabelle, Bonnie and even Loop (teehee) and some more shenanigans I wanna doodle lol .... maybe even Siffrin as an actor teehee. In my head they haven't taken an acting role yet, but may in the future once he's a bit more comfortable

[yandere-romanticaa]

icon credit.

Thousands upon thousands of kisses were exchanged in the bathhouse as Phainon held his beloved in his arms, a loopy grin on his face, his lover not faring any better. The water rippled beneath them as they shamelessly slobbered all over each other in public, much to the bewilderment or amusement to any onlookers.

And Mydei was most certainly not amused.

"You two disgust me." Mydei seethed as he took a handful of the nearby bathwater and brutally splashed the two lovebirds. Happy little noises turned into shouts and complaints, the couple now completely drenched from head to toe as the handsome blonde crossed his arms, an annoyed look on his face. His red eyes gleamed with putridity as he mumbled Krenoan curses underneath his breath, before he finally decided to speak once more in the common tongue.

"Sick freaks..."

However, the pair only ignored him, Phainon in particular as he immediately reached out to his sweetheart, big strong arms enveloping them in a sickeningly sweet embrace as he kissed the crown of their head, his soft blue eyes gleaming underneath the many lights.

Mydei continued to observe the pair as he stood tall in the bath, water dripping down his toned body as he thought back to all the times he caught the stupid lovebirds in their shenanigans. He felt a vein wanting to pop at how he had to drag his rival by the ear in order for him to just listen to common sense or how he sometimes had to cover your mouth with his massive hand in order to get you to just keep quiet for a few moments.

Frankly, Mydei found himself being a little bit... disturbed at how inseparable you two were.

It was normal for a couple to want to spend every waking breath together, he knew that much. Endless gifts, ridiculous proclamations of love, petty spats, it all came into the territory known as romance.

However, his keen eye noticed that the line of sweet romance would be crossed one too many times.

Mydei kept track of how jealous you'd get of the attention Phainon would receive, how petty you would act towards the people who would even try talking to the man. At first he chalked it up to regular jealousy but one time he found himself literally stopping you from verbally clawing out another person's neck for simply giving Phainon a compliment.

With the way your hands were twitching, he was not even so sure that it would have been just a verbal assault...

He also recalled how he caught Phainon tracking you in the city as you did your daily rounds in the market, and he would naturally explain it all away as pure coincidence. Phainon was the type of man who could fool anyone - sharp words, kind eyes and frankly, a handsome physique made him easy to trust. And besides, a doting lover always looks out for the apple of their eye, right?

Even if that lover in question would linger in the shadows like a phantom in the night? Even if he always looked as though he was ready to slash anyone who got too close to you for his own comfort?

Mydei suddenly felt his blood run cold as he broke out of his dazed state. The white haired Chrysos Heir gave him an eerie look, those haunting blue eyes boring deep into Mydei's scarlet ones like the sharpest daggers known to man. He looked less like a person and more like a wild animal ready to lunge at him at any given moment.

The heat of the bath did not soothe Mydei's worries either as the thick fog of the warm air only made the gut wretching stare even worse than it ought to be.

Mydei carefully tracked Phainon's movements as he noticed him grabbing his black cloak and putting it over you, shielding you fully now from his view. Mydei raised an eyebrow at that until he realized the heart of the issue.

He should not be looking at you.

With a slow gulp he turned his head in a different direction, trying to look nonchalant but he knew that he was caught red handed.

Mydei wondered if Phainon was going to do something right now in the bath.

Even with his head turned he still felt that horrible gaze on him, almost swallowing him whole as he caressed his darling in his arms, as if he was daring him to glance back once more.

Mydei did not dare as a matter of fact.

He was worried about where this was going, how this strange saga even started or if it was even going to end at all. Never in his lifetime had he witnessed such a disgustingly clingy couple, two people so obsessed with each other that it almost wanted to make him run for the hills.

For now though, it was in his best interest to act like he saw nothing. He was still going to keep an eye on the pair just in case someone gets hurt but...

With the way things are headed, it's bound to happen sooner rather than later.

[padmerry]

What people often get wrong about young Ford

Strong title, I know. By “young Ford,” I mean baby and teen Ford.

When people think of baby Ford, what kind of personality do they envision? Many times—as I can attest due to fanfic reading—they seem to picture him as shy, sweet, quiet, and, in Stan’s words, “Mr. Good Nerdy-Shoes” who couldn’t stand up for himself nor think of disobeying adult authority. Look at his adorable little face.

When they think of teen Ford, he is not so sweet anymore, true—but he still contrasts greatly with his adult self, who is so assertive and confrontational, and even with young Stan, who looks extra brash next to him. That is ostensibly why Ford couldn’t stand up for Stan in the principal’s office, even though he would have had if he had more courage.

Is this general portrayal faithful to what we’re shown in canon? My own answer would be a firm no. I’ll elaborate why, exactly, below the cut.

The first thing we have to establish, imo, is that young Ford isn’t a completely different creature, a boy unrecognisable from the man he is going to become. That even baby Ford already shared, to a certain extent, some of adult Ford’s traits, and not only the most “wholesome” of them—the endearing fascination with science and anomalies and nerdiness, that is.

We can notice, for example, his ambition (back then):

We can notice he’s apparently (from what is shown to us, which is not much) the one used to decide what the Stan twins did every day, the Phineas to Stan’s Ferb:

Stan asks him, and he answers—a perhaps unintended but still fascinating parallel to how Ford was also the one to decide their destiny in the finale, namely to hunt anomalies in the Arctic.

He’s the one who rides their bike in the two panels we see them riding it. Maybe an insignificant (and definitely unintended) detail but fitting, imo, with the pattern of Ford leading and Stan tagging along.

Despite these two observations being more my particular observations than anything else, the need to draw a visual parallel between baby Ford with his adult self was the whole point of dressing them in similar outfits, with the red turtleneck:

That said, let’s focus on two major things here...

Was Ford ever a goody-two-shoes?

I think nothing is more fitting than to start this topic with Stan’s little nickname for Ford in the comics: “Mr. Goody Nerd-Shoes.”

If you have read Journal 3—hell, if you have watched the show at all—you know that Stanford Pines is far, far from being a goody two-shoes, despite indeed being a huge nerd. (An important distinction! Ford doesn’t fit nerd stereotypes!) The guy stole radioactive waste from the government even before his portal days, became an intergalactic criminal described as “armed and dangerous,” lent a mind-control tie to a child... Stan is just living in the past and doesn’t understand that Ford changed, right? He isn’t that sweet little boy who could do no wrong anymore!

But... was he ever?

He found it hilarious when Stan mocked their teacher with an unflattering caricature, and doesn’t even bother to hide it.

He helped Stan cheat on tests/assignments (it’s not clear what exactly they’re doing here, but the fact Stan was trying hard to copy it from Ford and not from the blackboard tells us he wasn’t simply copying notes, but answers). Do notice that Ford doesn’t seem bothered, not even anxious or afraid of the teacher catching them. He’s smiling.

Both occasions seem to indicate that despite taking his studies seriously, Ford didn’t have a particularly strong fear of adult authority.

And of course—the best for last—he found it perfectly normal to impersonate two boys he mistakenly thought were dead:

Alex elaborates on the shenanigans those two would get up to in the commentary A Tale of Two Stans:

We played around with the idea that you would see them working together doing little science games or pulling little pranks. There was actually a scene that—I think some of it was even storyboarded—where they have a treehouse. And they’re in the treehouse together and Crampelter and his friends have tracked them down and are begging for their lunch money and Stan and Ford have used their jerkiness and geniusness to rig up like a water balloon throwing machine that knocks Crampelter in the head. I remember him saying, “oh no, my old-timey paper crown!” We were really hanging a lampshade on all these sort of Little Rascal cliches.

They were—both of them—an utter menace. I think Ford just happened to be way subtler about it than poor Stan, causing his misbehaving nature to be easily ignored by both the audience and, luckily, his father Filbrick.

Was Ford ever meek and conflict-avoidant?

I think many people think Stan was the protector and Ford the protected in their early years, but it was never as straightforward as this.

Young Ford is very sensitive about one thing in particular: when people mock his hands or imply he’s a freak. The way I see it, it’s because he believes that, deep down. He believes he’s indeed a freak. On top of that, he cares more about general public opinion than Stan does, since Stan is only ever shown to care about the opinion of his own family.

The insecurity about his hands is something that arguably follows him to adulthood:

(Of course, Ford doesn’t blush and doesn’t demonstrate any insecurity here, but he’s gotten way better at hiding and/or suppressing his feelings. I doubt Bill would have chosen this to pick up on if he didn’t think it would hurt.)

Outside of that, however?

He was quite confrontational! Certainly way more than I remember being when I was his age, as a conflict-avoidant child.

Quite angry, too:

(Notice how, in the original idea of Stan and Ford rigging up a water fountain described in the previous topic, Ford wasn’t afraid to pull a prank on Crampelter, either, despite being sensitive towards Crampelter’s targeted mocking of his hands.)

And most interesting of all—he was not afraid of stand up for Stanley, even when it would cost him to do so (considering that the Sibling Brothers had threatened to frame him as well and let him face Filbrick’s punishment along with Stan in case he made the wrong choice):

Not even when Filbrick was involved directly, instead of being used as the Siblings Brothers’ invisible threat! Pay attention to how Stan hides behind Ford as he tells Ford, “tell ‘im, Sixer!” basically using his brother as a shield, hahah. And, by the way, subverting the common fanon perception that Stan would often protect his twin from his father while a helpless, scared Ford would only watch and let him take the punishment. This is one of the reasons why he gets angry at Stan for lying: “I defended you!”

When Stan is being kicked out, he actively asks Ford for help, once again, just like he did as a kid!

Not even their mom, Caryn, but Ford!

And Stan knows Ford like the back of his hand! Why would Stan ask for Ford to defend him, to stand up to Filbrick, if he didn’t think Ford was capable of it? Ford’s protection was something that Stan thought he could rely on, if only this once, with such high stakes and urgency... despite...

... despite Ford completely failing to defend him in front of the principal, yes.

Remember how Ford always struggled to defend himself from comments that he believed deep, deep down? I think a similar thing was happening here, in the principal’s office. Of course, he wouldn’t have thought of Stan as “a clown,” at the very least not consciously, and he loved his brother, but at that point in their lives the difference between Ford’s and Stan’s accomplishments and abilities must have been undeniable, with the world at large pointing it out more and more often.

This moment in the series was also probably inspired by the real moment in Alex’s life that inspired the scene in which Mabel overhead Ford’s proposal to Dipper, according to the commentary of Dipper and Mabel vs. the Future:

This idea of Mabel overhearing Dipper and feeling left out actually came from a real thing that happened between me and my sister. This is a weird anecdote about me and my sister but we did this kind of like, sort of competitive improv games when we were in middle school, very nerdy. And we did pretty good, like, our team made it to the international competition every year, and there was this high school team... [...] We had a pretty good team, but there was a team above us, the high school team, that was like, legendary, that we wanted to be like. And when me and my sister went from junior high school to high school, like, this is going to be our last year to do this sort of competitive improv, and I got a call from the high school team saying “hey, guess what? we already raided your team for the standout members, we’ve taken the people from your team that always do good scores and we’re combining the high school team and the middle school team into a super team and we would like you to be on the high school team. And I was like, “what about Ariel?” And they were like, “well, there’s only seven members per team—” and Ariel was listening on the conversation and I remember her like, bursting into tears because they had basically been like yeah, we got two Hirsches [and] we only want one, and I didn’t even blink. I just said, “no, I refuse to be on this team.” Like, I couldn’t, it was just like, this is so messed up, you’re breaking this whole thing apart, like yeah, it’s a great team, yeah, you guys are awesome, but I’m not gonna do this without Ariel.

Based on Alex’s immediate and strong reaction to such a proposal, it’s not a stretch to think Ford’s silence here was indeed telling—especially because in Alex’s case, Ariel was never insulted. The principal, on the other hand, calls Stan a “clown,” says “he’ll be lucky to graduate high school.”

And because Caryn (who failed to defend Stan when he’s kicked out) did react about the way the principal was talked about him/did ask about him, in the two opportunities that were given to her, basically taking Alex’s irl role in the situation:

Dipper himself also asked about Mabel, even though he was being given an opportunity to learn from The Author of the Journals, whom he admired to the point of almost worship:

A significant factor I think could have changed for Ford to stay silent as the principal badmouthed Stan is: Ford’s priorities. Before, when they were children and more carefree and naive, it was Stan > the world (such as other people’s opinions and his ambition). Now, though, with a true opportunity to finally prove himself—one unlike any other he had before, capable of earning him the approval of even their “tough as a cinderblock” father—he was clinging hard to it.

And you might also be thinking, “but the examples you gave of Ford being assertive were only of baby Ford! Teen Ford could have grown more insecure. Perhaps Stan hadn’t realized that yet, or perhaps Stan was just desperate.” To that I say... fair enough! We don’t have enough canon material regarding teen Ford to decide how he behaved.

But we do have something regarding college Ford, just as he entered college, likely just months after Stan was kicked out—when he met Fiddleford, as described by Fiddleford himself on the TBoB website:

Lines such as “[...] my room mate, a freshman from New Jersey, barged in like he owned the place [...]” and “confidently declared” are very telling here. Of course, Ford didn’t stand up for Fiddleford in front of the whole class, but I honestly think that a) it was a different situation, considering the sheer amount of people/the presence of a public audience, and, partially due to that, b) it would have been a very unintelligent move if he didn’t have anything to defend Fiddleford with (to brag about something with zero backup, even if motivated by anger, is a very typical move of cartoon characters to create conflict for the plot... and also quite annoying to me personally, so I’m glad Ford didn’t go that route, hahah). Deciding to prove that Fiddleford’s theory was accurate first to shove it in everyone’s face second is a way smarter move and way, way more in line with Ford’s modus operandi, who—well—loves shoving the undeniable truth and/or his undeniable superiority in people’s faces. (From Journal 3, when Ford was already living in Gravity Falls: “I traveled to Northwest Manor to confront Old Man Northwest with the evidence of his family’s deceit [...]” and “Imagine the look on the dean of West Coast Tech’s face when he saw that the student he refused was now the next Einstein! Imagine how proud my family and hometown would be: the ‘Freak’ would return a hero!���) Personally, the vibes I get from this seem to indicate a very confident Ford already! A Ford who would have defended Stan if he weren’t already slowly internalizing and subconsciously agreeing with the things people said about his brother, or—at the very least—asked the principal about Stan’s fate, like Alex, Caryn, and Dipper did/would have done in his place.

We also have a clear parallel between baby Ford in The Jersey Devil’s in the Details and teen Ford in A Tale of Two Stans. Both have people telling them they’re better than Stan. One defends Stan strongly, the other listens quietly. Both feel betrayed by Stan. One forgives Stan, the other doesn’t. Filbrick was involved in both situations—one wasn’t afraid of being framed if it meant standing with his brother, the other didn’t stand with his brother even as his brother was kicked out of the house.

Let’s remember the Sibling Brothers’ words to him:

“One day you’re gonna realize that you’re too good for him.” Unfortunately, that prophecy came true! Way too true!

In the commentary of Dipper and Mabel vs. The Future, Jason Ritter (Dipper’s VA) suggested that Ford believed than “you can be held back by your siblings,” to which Alex agreed. It’s not necessary to accept Word of God to understand this fact, either:

I didn’t want to end all of this on such a bitter note, since my last intention with this post is to give people more reason to hate on Ford. He is actually my favorite character and, if the parallels between The Jersey Devil’s in the Details and A Tale of Two Stans teach us anything, it is that Ford did have reasons to distrust Stan/not believe Stan was telling the truth about it being an accident. (Stan lies really, really well when he wants to! See: Not What He Seems!) It is exactly because of him being my favorite character, though, that I am so fascinated by his characterization, and I think baby Ford’s loyalty and courage deserves more appreciation. Teen Ford, on the other hand—it was never courage that he lacked.

[lara-cherriinie]

my personal sonadow headcanons in no particular order bc im procrastinating on writing a research paper right now and its either do this or throw myself off the roof:

Shadow is a few inches shorter than Sonic, but ONLY if he takes his shoes off. cue many years' worth of shenanigans with Shadow doing everything in his power to avoid going barefoot in Sonic's presence because he knows if Sonic finds out he'll never hear the end of it (hes right)

T4T SONADOW

Sonic was able to get top surgery, but Shadow's body healed itself too quickly for it to work on him. flash forward to when he gets his Black Doom abilities and one of his first orders of business is to fuck around with them until he's able to give HIMSELF top surgery

Sonic hates coffee beans (too bitter) and Shadow hates chili dogs (too heavy/savory). they've broken up over this enough times for Rouge to lose count

Sonic is so good at flirting with everyone EXCEPT SHADOW. HE GETS TOO FLUSTERED. HE TRIES SO HARD AND IT NEVER WORKS BUT SHADOW IS TOO DOWN BAD TO CARE

Shadow grew up on a space station, with no biological reason to eat, and no access to fresh food or a kitchen. Sonic literally raised both himself AND TAILS. Shadow is NOT the cook between the two of them please everyone keeps saying otherwise and i dont understand it you cant convince me shadow knows how to boil a pot of water PLEASE SOMEBODY AGREE WITH ME

Sonic ages. Shadow doesn't. 50 years down the line somebody asks Sonic if Shadow is his son. Shadow immediately gets payback for 50 years of short jokes.

they are both so smart and so capable and so dangerous by themselves but if you put them in the same room in any context outside of a life-or-death situation they become the two dumbest motherfuckers you've ever had the displeasure of engaging in polite conversation with

shadow bottoms what who said that

okay this one might be silly but I feel like they would both be good at chess??? like Sonic is surprisingly well-read and more observant than people give him credit for, and Shadow probably had a lot of strategy training from GUN + played games with Maria on the ARK. idk i just feel like it would be a fun way for them to challenge each other outside of just racing/combat yknow

they both wear jewelry with each others' colors :] i usually make it earrings but i think Sonic having bracelets to mirror Shadow's rings would be really cute too

autistic Shadow and ADHD Sonic yes please yes yes yes

Sonic is the most verbally affectionate and Shadow is the most physically affectionate IM RIGHT YOU CANT ARGUE WITH ME ON THIS ONE IM PUTTING MY FOOT DOWN GOODBYE

they like to beat each other up a little toooooo much and its kinda toxic maybe but also theyre both having fun so like. maybe its just a love language 🫶🫶

Tails is so, SO disappointed with Sonic for his choice in men. like he actively considers holding an intervention when he finds out that Shadow and Sonic started dating

theyre both somewhere on the aromantic and asexual spectrums because uhhhhhh so am i and i can project if i want to

Sonic is a chronic yapper and Shadow is a listener BUT. HEAR ME OUT. IT STARTS TO SWAP AS THEY GET MORE COMFORTABLE WITH EACH OTHER. shadow comes out of his shell and feels more at ease talking, and sonic appreciates having someone who doesnt expect him to be at full energy/optimism 24/7 and lets him be silent when he needs to be

[thewanderingkaya]

through depths and the shadows of adversity .

pairing: teen!gojo x reader

summary: your bond with Satoru has an intricate history together, starting from the former years in Jujutsu High.. 

wordcount: 1.6K 

a/n: g/n reader, I love teen Gojo, and I love friends to lovers, so why not combine the two?  this doesn’t have any suggestive just reader and teen satoru bullying each other. I feel like it shows a stronger and more intimate bond. this is mainly about the relationship and funny little shenanigans gojo and reader go through. Live laugh love high school sweethearts <3 

dividers : @vesearartistry

TEEN GOJO who pranks anyone and everyone in Jujutsu High, including you. Giggling as he crouches by the corridor; ready to observe your pitiable fate. Poor you falling victim to his stunts, stepping out of your room freshly showered and clean, that is until you step across the threshold. Water collected ina  bucket from - as you could guess - the ditches douses your hair, trickling down your shoulders as your frame freezes up. Your ears are pierced with cackles of laughter, looking over to spot the little nuisance responsible for this practical joke. White tufts of hair bouncing as he snickered away. Your response - simply the most mature thing to do - slip a few insects with one too many limbs into his pillowcase. Shrieking with laughter as you heard satoru’s own shrieks with pure horror, followed by thuds and unnerving crashes. The next morning, your sight is blessed with a mattress and a bed frame strewn about in the hallway, a very suspiciously bed-shaped hole in the wall of Satoru’s dorm room.

TEEN GOJO who slams the door to your room open without a care in the world, his stride unnaturally purposeful. You whipping your head around, battle ready, just to see a dumbass dramatically checking your shelf of trinkets. Unbothered by your presence as he snatches your possessions from the shelf. Shuffling through your personal collection of books, picking them out as if in a public library. Satoru strolls out of your room satisfied, his arms cradling several of your belongings. Leaving you staring at the door, wide-eyed with bewilderment.

TEEN GOJO who constantly flicks your forehead no matter where you are, staring at the blackboard as Yaga explained the consequences of overexertion in battle, practicing your cursed techniques in the courtyard, bickering in an abandoned building as you scout out a special grade… Managing to swerve and dodge inexhaustible attacks of First Grade cursed spirit you were able to maim quite competently.. Preparing yourself to land a killing strike, your engrossment in the battle was ruptured. A perfect circular cavity was present in the cursed spirit’s body, making its remaining flesh a simple hollow shell. Your eyes rounded as you peered straight through the sizable hole, a pair of blue eyes glimmering with complacency stared back at you through the corpse; now collapsed to the ground in a flourish of dust particles. Your mouth hung open as he made his way to you, the swagger in satoru’s pace made you grit your teeth. A frown pulled on your features as you stared up at the giraffe standing before you; a smug grin tugged on his lips and hands placed nonchalantly in his pockets. Your mouth flung open to scold him when you were interrupted; a forceful and sharp pain in your forehead made you flinch. You stared at him, baffled. He had flicked you. The twig fingered bastard stole your final blow and then flicked you. 

TEEN GOJO, who finds it unfortunate that your sense of emotional development hasn’t matured either. Every time the scamp would flick your head with his boney fingers, you stooped down to his level, reaching up to him to give him a taste of his own medicine. Only for him to veer from your vengeful attack. You made do with punching him in the gut every time he violated your poor forehead. Most times when you get caught up in your dispute, it compromises your mission. Earning a strong scolding and punishment from Yaga. 

TEEN GOJO who would constantly wear your clothes, prancing around campus pretending to be you. You would walk into a room and look up to see a sight to behold. Satoru flailing and mocking you with overzealous facial expressions, a high-pitched voice to top it off. You just stand there in the doorway as he performs for Suguru and Shoko, their giggles evaporate as they caught sight of your boiling fury. It takes satoru longer than it should have to notice his audience’s sudden silence, and even longer for him to turn around. When he does he does it with a flourish, halting in his tracks as he locks eyes with yours. Suguru and Ieiri take their leave swiftly as your hands balled up into fists. Not long after, satoru could be seen trailing you - or should I say being dragged by the ear - half naked, your clothes disheveled, assuringly ripped straight from his body. 

TEEN GOJO who would use his infinity every time you tried to hit him, he learned the hard way how hard your blows are. He turns his infinity on subconsciously, often forgetting he has such a power, or fearing your deadly blows and might would shatter her infinity somehow. Every time you try to hit satoru, he lets out a deafening shriek, almost inhumane. The first time he did it was during a class ridden with silence, satoru tiptoed from behind you, plotting to tip your chair back. A squeal made everybody turn around, beheld with the sight of satoru on the ground, hands up in frightened defense, and you on top of him, your chair held high over your head. He can never outlive that embarrassment of a moment. 

TEEN GOJO who would make unnecessary and stupid scenarios at the most random times. Including the less convenient times too. It annoyed not just you, but everyone else too. Satoru would scan the elders facial expressions contort as he asked about the effects of cursed energy during, uh… A mischievous grin appearing on his face as well as slowly appearing on yours. Respect for higher powers wasn’t Satoru’s strong suit, neither was it yours, although you knew when to shut up.. Satoru on the other hand obviously did not. You couldn’t count the number of times you shoved a hysterical satoru with your elbow - multiple times in fact - as a quite stoic elder stood before you. Yet he wouldn’t shut up, until Masamichi gave you both punishment. 

TEEN GOJO who would be weirdly affectionate to you. Coming up behind you and laying his head on yours, casually flopping onto the couch that you were sitting on laying his feet or his head on your lap as if you were merely a part of the sofa, leaning on your shoulder whenever he gets tired of standing. You could call it a blessing, until you had to deal with a lanky piece of dead weight on your back, or bring mercilessly dragged everywhere as repercussion from the leverage he has over you - with his height, leverage over everybody..

TEEN GOJO who would boast and jeer when you got injured, him being nearly untouchable only encouraged his nuisance behavior. He would be walking past the infirmary dangerously slow, purposefully and noisily gloating about how he didn’t earn a scratch on that mission. You just stared holes into the strongest with an unamused roll of your eyes. Satoru pretended not to notice you, snickering as he kept crowing down the hallway.

TEEN GOJO and you who would provoke each other with ultimatums - one would call it childish games. Who can chug the most sake without passing out? Who can take down the most cursed spirits in a limited amount of time? Who can make it from one side of Jujutsu campus to the other without touching the ground or roof? The latter would end up with destroyed walls, startled staff, and a very disappointed and exhausted principal. But none of it ever created a rift between you too, but it developed your chemistry. Competitive delinquency at its finest. 

TEEN GOJO who - you never thought would - listens to all your stories and every thought you had to share. Remembering even the littlest things that you forgot about yourself. Years of information accumulated in his head, down to your specific moods that made you fancy certain things. You always thought he tuned you out, or at least didn’t care about what you had to say. After all, your friendship was built off of bullying and smart remarks. You didn’t mind anyhow, you weren’t expectant of that. His mind always seemed busy, yet he recalls the feelings and opinions you had about foods, tv shows, behaviors. It baffled you every time he made a quick remark or joke you just had to stop and stare. 

TEEN GOJO who would drag you outside, far away from campus borders in the middle of the night. His hand seizing yours with a grip that makes it hard for you to believe that you could ever let go.. Not that you would ever want to. He takes you to an abandoned park, clear from cursed spirits in which he annihilated before hand, grass and other shrubbery peeking through cracks in the concrete, moss scattered across paths where residents once tread. He led you up a hill and into a clearing, pale moonlight poured into the open glade where a destroyed building had opened up and shrouded over with green, a sight to remember.. That night you didn’t get a second of sleep. Exploring the buildings and making quips at each other, only finally resting on the meadow when the moon departed and the sun bathed the surface. 

TEEN GOJO who after a long day, makes himself at home in your room, always seemingly searching for your presence. Helps himself to your cash of snacks hidden behind a cabinet while you’re asleep, he knows you keep a variety of his favourite sweet treats for him like you knew he would be rummaging through the stash. He finds comfort in simply lying with you, whether you are conscious or not, cracking jokes or having deep conversations. Satoru’s arms crossed, propping his head up to stare at the ceiling, his head turns to you. He notices the way your features fall as they sit relaxed, how peaceful your breathing pattern is. Soon, his eyelids feel heavy and he falls asleep with you, arm draped across your shoulders and his snores jumbled with yours.

© thewanderingkaya 2025, please do not copy, credit any of my work, or reupload or translate to other platforms.

[tare-anime]

After posting the observation that both Loid and Yor were injured at the same arm, during a kind of simmilar arc, I have a further contemplation....

My... my ... both TwiYor actually has bleed for one another 😲😲

Like... both has actually enduring a bleeding wound for the other. 🥹🥹🥹

I mean, if we look again during the Mole Hunting arc, Loid was shot on his arm because he was hesitating in hurting Yuri, because Yuri IS important to Yor.

He hesitated to hurt other people. That has been his nature all along.

But actually, during this particular event, he hesitated because he care for Yor and her wellbeing.

Even though he didn't understand his actions, because Twilight is a man of logic -- and none of this feelings shenanigans can be logical in any form or way -- Twilight cannot understand why he acted that way.

Eventually, he relucantly connected the dots, and reluctantly admits that he unintentionally has made Yor as his weakness.

And as a man who will always -- and has to prioritize his logic, Loid then choose to "nip the problem in the bud" (or a thing similar to that).

But as we can see from several chapters after that, especially at chapter 94 (the snow lodge adventure) and chapter 103 (the watching belle adventure), we know that no matter how many logic he pour unto stopping this ridiculous illogical feelings (or so he thought), his body reacts the other way.

He can't help but listen, and relax whenever he is with Yor. He might be won't admit it out loud, but his body language shows how much he appreciates Yor being by his side.

But...... (I think) Loid will not act upon such thing.

Nope.

He prefer to keep things working the way it has been.

He prefer to maintain the status quo, because it's comfortable.

The logical question would be: Why would someone try to move things that have been working properly as it is, and overcomplicated things?

Now, Twilight might be not as extreme as Hemlock or Nightfall in embracing loneliness, but as Matthew has said, someone gain power from "have nothing to loose".

I think, Twilight has put himself in this category.

Yor, on the other hand, is different.

As a character, she is already different -- if not opposite of Twilight by design.

While Twilight will try his best not to hurt people (I say he might even try to push them away if it means they will be save), Yor will not hesitate to hurt those dare to hurt her few -- but very important people.

As we can see it from the early days of the series, Yor has been, and always will be this way.

She will act first (to help, to protect) and think of consequences (especially if it "only" endangered herself) later.

That is why, as seen from the Cruise arc, only when she has found her resolve-- her goal -- that Yor will fight back, and never hesitate in enduring several "unfatal" injuries if it means she can punch down her enemies, and at the end ensuring the safety of her most precious people.

The same happen when she was facing Hemlock.

But during this Garden Introduction arc, there's been something that has been bothering Yor.

Unlike Twilight who always think things through, Yor leans more to feel things.

She knows that there are somethings different in her heart right now.

Somethings that's not as "simple" as continuing her role as Anya's mother, or her role as the sharpest thorn Garden has ever had.

It is something more deep, more alien to her.

She wants something for herself.

Apparently this wants is not just a "status", or a "safe place to stay".

Maybe it's more deep than that.

We know it is acceptance that Yor has been wanting for so long. But it seems Yor herself cannot pin point what she actually wants.

As we can see from chapter 114 (the Briars day out), we can see (and assume) that Yor never act to fulfill her own wants. She will always put other's wants first, and never address her own.

This time however, it's different.

She wants to be accepted -- openly -- for who she is.

And for some reason (we know what the reason is 😏) Yor wants it to last forever -- if possible.

So, I guess, I agree with the discussion with several discord moots, that with Matthew's push, Yor will finally act to find out -- to hear and see it by herself -- to know where does she stand in the Forger family (or in Loid's heart) as a wife.

This will be a development of Yor questioning her role as a mother during chp 35.

Because, considering the danger nature of her job as an assassin, "hesitation will end up making everyone hurt".

And that is one thing that Yor will do in whatever power she has to prevent.

So, in different way than Twilight, this time, once again Yor will act and find out....

I also love the insight from other reviewers and moots, that said, this time -- for the first time -- Yor will once again push the balance (or status quo) of Loid and Yor's relationship.

She will be the one brave enough to knock on Loid's room door (or a metaphore of Loid's heart) -- a place so private -- so cold and calculative and full of logic -- to find out whether her feelings are true and can be reciprocate, or not.

And maybe depends on what Loid's answer will be, Yor will act accordingly.

Let just hope this bravery of Yor will have a happy result that she -- and by extension us the TwiYor shippers -- deserves 🥰🥰🥰

-------

TL;DR

While both Twilight/Loid and Yor has litterally bleed for one another, they act differently.

Loid by maintaining the status quo of their relationship

Yor by asking assurance of her question (uncertainties), by daring herself to knock / step into Loid's space.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Are there any people Nemu gets along particularly well with in the Gotei 13?

Is there anyone she avoids? Anyone she wants to get to know better?

Alternatively, would Yamamoto ever consider making a fourteenth division?

Nemu's primary hobbies are Aiding and Abetting so she is GREAT friends with everyone else in the Shinigami Women's Association. Girl loves her some shenanigans, even chicanery, but the SWA is providing her with outright machinations and the lab-grown henchwoman is THRIVING.

The most important things about Nemu in AEIWAM are:

1. She knows perfectly well that she is a lab-grown person, she's her father's seventh attempt, and she regularly looks after her likely successor Hachigo in her tank in the basement of the 12th. This doesn't bother her- if anything, Nemu is a bit smug about all the care and attention her father put into creating her, whereas many of her colleagues are the result of insufficiently durable prophylactics.

1.1: She is sometimes a little sad that Hachigo will not be raised to consciousness until after Nemu has been destroyed, as she would like the opportunity to talk with her "little sister" and make sure she understands all the prerogatives they share, because there are a sight more than Mayuri knows about, and also to play house a bit.

1.2: Nemu really likes playing house in which she has her collection of dolls perform arbitrarily assigned familial roles, but if you ask her why, she gets very agitated and tries to move on from the topic.

2. Nemu takes after Mayuri in quite a few ways that are not immediately obvious because she's not as vocal as he is, but she has the same mile-wide streak of pride and the ruthlessness of someone who can see the bright, shining line between her means and goals, and the willingness to disregard all else in pursuit of those goals.

Nemu has been in a personal quest to push the scientific boundaries of sanitation and disease eradication, quietly running her own experiments on the other side of the lab from her father and the occasional unsuspecting 12th division member. Her secrecy from Mayuri is not a matter of safety- being disassembled by him is a mere nuisance to her- but a matter of pride: for all his other accomplishments, Mayuri has never successfully eradicated a disease, so she wants to have eradicated at least one major pestilence before she presents her results to flex on him.

The only real difference between Mayuri and his daughter is that she can hold up her end of a conversation without immediately resorting to threats of violence to get her way, or falling for obvious jabs at her pride. You can neg Mayuri into doing something, but not Nemu.

...her problem is that she's extremely susceptible to flattery and the casual expectations of others. It took Matsumoto all of ten minutes to work out that she could get Nemu to do nearly anything if she started the request with "I'm sorry to bother you with this but frankly you're probably the only person in soul society who could handle it-!".

Nemu would rather die than fall short of the image others have of her in their minds, and it is a testament to Matsumoto's loyalty as a friend that absolutely nobody else knows this.

3. What social graces Nemu does possess, she has largely due to her fellow SWA members, but ESPECIALLY Unohana. Lady Unohana did not come by her social graces naturally, but instead by centuries of patience and analytical observation, and can now explain a great many social interactions from a unique outside perspective, often to the horror of her friends.

Nemu, who was not allowed to interact with people outside of the 12th until she hit puberty/mayuri's previous lieutenant escaped and he had to promote SOMEONE, Found these lectures to be invaluable, and took notes. This greatly pleased Unohana, who has the maternal instincts of a cuckoo but is a remarkably good teacher, and soon the two of them had formed an odd friendship people would lack the ability to describe until 2001 when Tatsuki Aikawa introduced soul society to the phenomenon of Autism.

3.1: At least some of Nemu's fascination with disease control comes from Unohana- the older woman was once verbally recounting a problem with hantaviruses at an SWA meeting more as a form of rubber ducking than anything else. Nemu realized and pointed out that the likely vector was probably not the fourth's lab rats somehow contracting the diseases through contaminated grain, but improperly sanitized interactions between the research medics in charge of the lab rats and the sanitation medics that were exposed to the sewer rats.

"...I think you're right." Unohana realized, then turned to Nemu, smiled and patted her head. "Good girl!'

Nemu has been chasing that high ever since.

4. Nemu is rather leery of Ukitake, actually.

The captain of the 13th has absolutely no problems with checking the behavior of the other Captain's, with force of necessary. He gets away with this kind of dominance play because he never does it unless he's damn sure he's right to do so, and if push comes to shove, he'll be backed up by the other captains.

Mayuri, chronic ethics guidelines violator, has been on Ukitake's bad side more than once. It's less that Nemu feels persecuted by proxy, and more that...

Well frankly, Ukitake is scary when he's angry. The man is a very heavy hitter among the captains and if he's genuinely mad he will not hold back. Mayuri is more death-resistant than most, and has gotten into more than his fair share of battles with his colleagues, but Ukitake tops the leaderboard in terms of number of altercations and closest anyone has gotten to actually killing her father.

...which makes the fact that Ukitake is so kind and friendly to Nemu all the more upsetting for her. The fact Ukitake can compartmentalize like that is what she finds most frightening about him. He WOULD kill her father and offer to take her out for ice cream afterwards.

So she keeps her distance from him. She knows it's irrational- she's heard more than enough horror stories about the Bad Old Days from Unohana to know that all the really successful captains are capable of this kind of extremely selective violence.

It's the fact that Ukitake is so goddamn NICE all the time that really illustrates the terrifying gulf between human nature and Nemu's understanding thereof.

---

Yamamoto was forbidden from expanding the Gotei-13 from its dimensions of 13 divisions, with no more than 200 members each by governmental fiat- the Central 46 kept the Gotei-13 obedient by keeping them overworked.

Yamamoto is perfectly aware that the Gotei-13 is being forced to do too much work for too few people, but is less of the opinion that he needs a fourteenth division so much as about half the division responsibilities should be someone else's job. Combat medics should not also be doing civil sanitation. Research and Development is key, but a waste of shinigami when there are so many other perfectly qualified nerds out there. After the events of TBTP, the 13th division was forced to take over the work of the Kido Corps, which pissed Yamamoto off because he had damn near foisted the burden of research from the 13th onto the Corps, and now they had to take on the whole thing!

So, no. Yamamoto does not want a 14th division. He'd like the 13 he currently has to be free to do their fucking jobs.

[mehrfh]

Art of writing a Good Male Character

I remember a reel introduced me to TAD and the scene that made me save the reel and watch the show was that Working in the Outer Court scene where Jinshi stalls other men from looking at MaoMao. My first impression of Jinshi was he is cute, possessive guy (in a comic way). I watched the first season an year after it was aired and around when the second season was announced. And the thing I fell in love with in the series was the mystery and puzzle-like approach in storytelling. I loved TAD not primarily because of the characters but how well it understands the art of storytelling. I liked MaoMao's eccentricity and Jinshi's shenanigans but it didn't become the fixating point. I also loved their chemistry but it was still in a nascent stage. It kind of reminded me of High School trope where you (and other observers) see two classmates who apparently bother and annoy each other having a magnetic pull between them and them not realising it. It was the storytelling mainly that made me open the LNs. And that is where I fell in love with Jinshi, MaoMao and their relationship. While MaoMao is evidently an exceptionally well-crafted female MC, I want to talk about how Jinshi is apparently a male archetype you don't see many people doing justice to. Below are some points from my end to analyse why Jinshi is a great example of writing a good male character.

Jinshi as a support, Jinshi as a System: I love how the author has played this aspect of Jinshi so well. A character like Jinshi who is as powerful as one could be in society at a given time, is perhaps the kind of quiet support to MaoMao very few would be able to be in his place. Jinshi, despite his status, never lets his support make unnecessary noise for MaoMao, especially after he realises her real apprehensions in being married into royal family. Jinshi understood MaoMao at a fundamental level. It was not just about taking liking to her intelligence or her quirks, Jinshi understood MaoMao as a human. He not only tried to satisfy her curiosities but he also tried to handle her family for her in a non-intrusive way. Jinshi never forced MaoMao to alter her relationship with anyone in her clan but he also did not blindside her clan for her. He did his part honestly, especially with Lakan. Similarly, Jinshi hardly interfered with MaoMao's social circle, be it in brothel or in rear palace (except, when it was a man, ahahahah). He never tried to pick her friends or people for her. This is quite remarkable that we have never seen Jinshi instructing MaoMao regarding his own relationships as well. Like with Ma clan, Jinshi never imposed upon MaoMao to get along with the clan members because they were important to him. Moreover, Jinshi has tried to change system for her without second guesses but I love how it never reaches MaoMao as some sort of public stir. I love how she is often surprised about Jinshi ensuing a big change in such a no-noise manner. Be it opening school, bringing Loumen back, opening medicine for women or something as personal as branding himself, she is often caught off-guard as to how Jinshi brings pivotal changes in such a non-sensational manner.

Kindness that flows with the wind: Out of everything Jinshi could be, I am glad the author choose to make him effortlessly kind. Jinshi's kindness does not need a grand introduction, he is rarely shown bestowing kindness as a ruler upon his subjects. Jinshi is kind as a person. Numerous events and instances here and there show how casual Jinshi's kindness is. And that is perhaps why it is so easy to exploit as well. MaoMao seeing Loumen's naturally kind demeanor getting reflected in Jinshi speaks for itself.

Remorse as Introspection: I think this might be the aspect that actually made Jinshi one of my all-time favourites. I love how sincere Jinshi's remorse is. He is perhaps among very few male characters who intend to reflect upon their actions to do course correction without making it anyone else's problem or putting onus on circumstances. I love how Jinshi just simply doesn't romanticize his wrongs, and actually understands the need for introspection and how sincere that introspection is. Jinshi takes accountability without making anyone else look bad, and that is remarkable. Few times he has acted out of line, we have never seen him even attempting to justify himself in front of MaoMao or make it him+her problem. He inteospects and tries to do good to mitigate that. I think this is what sold Jinshi to me as one of his kind character.

A Very Human Pursuit: Jinshi doesn't want to relinquish power out of spite or to escape from responsibility (responsibilities are perhaps attached with Jinshi irrespective of his status). He wants to relinquish throne because he realises how lonely it will make him and deprive him of most human of connections. Jinshi realises the burden of throne and how isolating it is. He knows how lonely it is to stay at top. Jinshi wants to do his share of work diligently but he is not willing to pay unreasonable price for that— i. e. losing opportunities to form human connections without stakes of life and death being attached to them. He is neither rebellious hot-headed one nor serene compromising one, he is very human in his immaturity, sense of responsibility and pursuit of human connections. Jinshi's dilemma is not of a royal's but that of a human, just like many others in the story, who are trying to break free.

Understanding Love as a condition: People call MaoMao the practical one in the relationship and I completely agree. But it should be said that even Jinshi understands Love as a condition, even more than MaoMao. For Jinshi, main condition is to make sure MaoMao doesn't lose her life at the altar. He basically does everything he can to make sure MaoMao doesn't bear the brunt of it. Jinshi's devotion aside, he has displayed remarkable practicality in developing association with MaoMao. He is neck deep in Love but he is not an idealist, despite his power and status making him, perhaps, most eligible to be the one. He has his assessments and he is willing to take time for things to become better. Not only does he allow MaoMao her space, he makes sure his space is also not becoming non-existent. Jinshi acts in Love from a very sentimental perspective but he understands Love as a condition very well.

Despite everything, he is only a young man in Love: I love and love how his relationship with MaoMao forces Jinshi to betray his usual mature demeanor and noble finesse. He appears very composed and elegant and non-chalant but adventures with MaoMao make us realise how chalant and awkward and freakish and childish he is. His wild imagination and jealousy wrt any other man's even shadow hovering around MaoMao is simply spectacular. I love how the moment it comes to MaoMao, every mask and ounce of imperial manners leave his side and he becomes that needy, clingy teenager, and later on, young man in love. The way Jinshi unravels in front of (or because of MaoMao), we get to know that beneath the status and title and politics, he is just a teenager/young man trying to understand world. There are people who write male teenagers like mature adults or adult men behaving like teenagers but Jinshi is written in a way where his actions betray his age and his age makes him act a certain way. We rarely see teenage/young Jinshi in his mannerism, and we rarely see mature Jinshi in his actions. This is some good writing.

These were just some of my thoughts on why I like Jinshi so much. He is a complex character that never becomes complicated to follow, and that is some great writing. Jinshi is neither watered down to elevate MaoMao nor is he made into an ideal around which MaoMao's whole life revolves. His trajectory complements hers, and proves to be a catalyst. Best thing about Jinshi is that his presence is pivotal to the story and central to MaoMao's arc but he never himself becomes the whole story.

[transingthoseformers]

Something biting-adjacent: TFP Megatron freaking the Autobots out by walking around with a bunch of these perfectly circular 'bite' marks all over his frame - it's like he got chewed on by an overenthusiastic lamprey.

Ratchet freaks out extra hard because they are a dead ringer for the scars left by a kind of parasitic scraplet that's almost impossible to get rid of and Megatron brawled with Optimus before they noticed the marks. Off to quarantine with Optimus - poor confused OP gets soaked and gassed and irradiated with every kind of anti-parasitic Ratchet can throw at him before he could get a word in edgewise and ask why his medic is freaking out.

Ratchet doesn't find anything. No scraplets, no marks, looks like either Optimus got lucky or Knock Out isn't as incompetent as Ratchet thinks he is and managed to treat Megatron in time before the parasites could burrow into him and multiply or eat anything vital (although Ratchet would have been delighted if the scraplets ate Megatron's brain module so they wouldn't have to deal with him anymore. He'd deserve a humiliating death like that).

It's not over so simply, because the universe likes to laugh at Ratchet in particular. This turns into a recurring clown show.

Megatron keeps showing up with marks over and over again and not just him. They never sport as many bites as Megatron, but practically the entire high command and even some of the higher ranking vehicons are observed with a scar or two. It puts Ratchet on edge enough that he forbids the other Bots from getting into physical confrontations after a while, because that looks like one hell of a scraplet infestation and if a well-stocked ship like the Nemesis can't do anything more than keep it controlled, then their dingy little bunker with their shitty makeshift medbay would be overran in no time. The Autobots see how stressed he is over the situation, so they don't question him about the details, because they don't want to get yelled at.

Anyway, time passes, shenanigans happen, they somehow work their way into a ceasefire / provisional peace agreement (maybe Megatron doesn't get high on dark energon in this AU, idk, I haven't thought that far). After the first day of (surprisingly productive) negotiations, Optimus walks over to Megatron and Soundwave to join them for a chat and a cube of energon and as Ratchet watches them (still paranoid about the possibility of a scraplet infection) Soundwave casually reaches over with his data cables and chomps onto Optimus' arm.

Megatron acts like it's nothing out of the ordinary and Optimus is beaming like this is the best day he had in the last million years. When they are done, Optimus walks back to his own people with two very distinct bite marks on his plating, happy as he can be, and Ratchet almost blows a gasket and grills him about what the fuck that was.

Turns out that's just a thing Soundwave does. A kind of affectionate aggression. Also might be sampling their plating for mysterious carrier-mech reasons, but that's neither here nor there. It's a little weird and stings just a little bit, but it's a good thing, Optimus reassures Ratchet.

Ratchet is going to go back to the base, lock himself in the soundproof decontamination chamber and have a good, frustrated scream over it that his mysterious 'scraplet infestation' was the Decepticons' faceless weirdo all along. 🙂

FUCKING WHEEZING FHSFHFSHGEJEH SOUNDWAVE WINS

[viperbunnies]

"Nothing good ever comes out when I start hoping... but maybe just a little bit."

[Thank you to @.unfinished-projects-galore , @.ai-kan1 and @.stestylius-arts for the assets! Thank you as well to @jovieinramshackle for giving me the inspo to finally start on this, and to @crystallizsch , @angelwishess and @twstgo whose oc intros I took inspo for the layout 🫶]

An outlier from the school, due to his situation he was home-schooled for the majority of his first year. They have decided to accompany the Ramshackle prefect in their daily endeavors, serving as a guide and as a companion in the worn-down dorm.

BASIC INFO.

NAME: Oswald "Oz" Damarys BIRTHNAME: ???? ??????? ALIAS: Oz, Ozzie, Flashlight Fish (Floyd), Monsieur Porcelaine (Rook) Shortie-senpai (Yuudai) AGE: 17 BIRTHDATE: August 26 HEIGHT: 154 cm SPECIES: Half-human half beastmen GENDER: Demi-boy (Uses they/he and masc titles) ORIENTATION: Demisexual ALIGNMENT: Lawful Neutral MBTI: ISFP Voice claim: Here! (Stc)

LIKES: Stargazy pie, Seafood in general, Acrobatics, Crochet, Art in general, Reading, Fairytales, Music boxes, Classical Music, Card games, Mystery books, Sightseeing, DISLIKES:Wishmaking, Shooting stars, Crowded places, Performing, Being observed, People touching his birthmark, His "Luck", Basketballs

Unique Magic Your Next Line is! [ Flash Forward ] — "An indisputable future is what I see... Your Next Line is!" Oswald is able to take a peek into someone's future as long as they keep contact with his pearly white eye. It can be anything from 5 seconds from now or a day later - This visions manifests like rolls of film - Lately It appears his unique magic is going haywire, showing him visions without the need of eye contact. (They aren't pleasant visions)

TRAITS +  Easy-going; Flexible; Warm; Appreciative =  Tolerant; Perceptive; Witty; Impartial -  Overworker; Indecisive; Reliant; Worrisome

BRIEF OVERVIEW (STC)

Oz is a man of many tricks; he was raised to entertain the audience, which is why he is great at lightening up the mood of the room. The many tricks he can do reminds others of a puppy trained on how to play dead, or shake hands. Despite that, Oz actually struggles in actually expressing the his true feelings— used to being the brunt of many jokes growing up, he believes that he is simply a puppet used for the entertainment of others. He sees himself as a hollow doll with no real personality, only meant for display. He is confused about who his truly is, used to what others want to see and not what he wants to show. Slowly, he is realizing that he is merely human, and that he should live for his own sake. (Old info from my notes)

TIDBITS

Random Facts - Part-beastmen, specifically a rabbit beastmen but he lacks actual features aside for his tail that was cauterized off when he was younger - He doesn't look the part but he also likes getting into shenanigans, sometimes instigating Yuu and Adeuce with the pranks they do (No one really believes the trio when they say it was Oz's idea) - He's double jointed which is helpful with his Acrobatic hobby. - Love language is gift giving, and has a tendency to make crochets for other people. They're typically things that remind them of the other. - Has a lot of birthmarks on his face, but he started to cover them with foundation after Floyd made fun of it. - Has a terrible sense of direction so he gets lost easily, but he'd like to travel around the world someday. - He has terrible luck, and while he doesn't believe in superstitions he began to be wary about them. Doesn't want to get knocked out unconscious by a basketball whenever he passes by the gym. - Doesn't really mind being called Oswald, but he associated that to whenever he'd get scolded... so Oz is his more go to nickname.

TYPING QUIRK: - His friend got him into using Kaomojis, he likes the ones with bunny ears. - Likes sending voice messages to get his point across. - Usually types in sentence cases, (although when he isn't feeling well he types in lower cases) SPEAKING QUIRK: - Uses a lot of onomatopoeia to describe unknown things. - Speaks firmly when he feels strong emotions. - Sometimes bites his tongue when he rambles, or not focused. BEHAVIOURAL QUIRKS: - Nose has a tendency to twitch when he’s interested, or irritated. - He also unconsciously thumps his foot when he’s annoyed.

RELATIONSHIPS (WIP)

(Might put a brief overview on their more notable relationships in the future!) Note: - Main Oc x Canon is with Jamil (ignore that pink on silver and jade) - Divus is his foster parent

PNGS BELOW:

p∀ƎH ⅄W NI פNIH┴ƎWOS SI ƎɹƎH┴

[innerfare]

Threesome Headcanons - Part 1

Summary: a random collection of threesome headcanons with a menagerie of characters; probably the filthiest thing I've ever written

Pairings (all x afab!reader): Robin and Law, Law and Zoro, Zoro and Perona, Zoro and Sanji, Sanji and Nami, Sanji and Ace, Ace and Sabo, Sabo and Koala, Sabo cucking your aristocrat husband while he watches, Robin and Koala

Genre: pure smut

CW: NSFW // threesomes (obviously), sex toys, lots of oral and penetrative sex, some anal, devil fruit shenanigans

——— 

Law watching you and Robin make out, and Robin watching Law fuck you, amazed by how well you take Law’s thick cock, finally deciding she’s brave enough to take it, too. Robin coming between the two of you and bending over for Law, holding your legs open so she can bury her face in your pussy while she gets fucked by the doctor. Robin getting lost between the two of you, drawing countless orgasms out of you and giving several of her own to Law. Law cumming inside Robin first but not neglecting you, fucking through the exhaustion so you can have his load inside you, too. 

You getting drunk and asking an equally inebriated Zoro and Law to join you, fully expecting the swordsman to agree but the captain of the Heart Pirates to scoff. And Law does scoff, before promptly joining both you and Zoro in bed. These two seem so domineering but you’ll actually be able to call the shots if you say, “pretty please,” and pout; they’ll roll their eyes but do whatever you want, so long as you let them between your legs. Jerking Law off while you ride Zoro, sucking Zoro off while Law fucks you from behind, riding Zoro again while Law fucks you in the ass. Hot and heavy, but pretty chill vibe. Will definitely happen again. 

Zoro hushing Perona as he brings her naked pussy down on his face, yours already quivering around his aching cock. Zoro breathing a sigh of relief as he finally gets a sense of control over the pink haired pirate, you already on your best behavior like he taught you. Zoro letting Perona lick your pussy after he cums in you, but only if she promises to stop laughing at him when he gets lost around the castle. Zoro fucking Perona while she eats you out, then fucking you again for good measure. 

A threesome with Zoro and Sanji would be absolutely exhausting. These two have a nasty habit of turning everything into a competition. Sanji makes you cum once? Zoro has to make you cum twice. Sanji finishes in your mouth? Zoro has to finish in your mouth and cunt. You’ll have to jerk them both off simultaneously when you start to avoid hurting any feelings. Sanji prefers fucking your throat and Zoro prefers your pussy (or your ass), so it does work out in the end. They’ll definitely fight over who gets to hold you in their arms afterward. 

Nami going down on you while Sanji watches, jerking his cock to the sight of you, eventually getting up to massage your breasts and suck on your nipples while the navigator works your first orgasm out of you. Riding Sanji’s face while Nami fucks herself silly on his cock, Nami making you face her while you do so the two of you can make out and grab each others’ tits. Poor Sanji would cum so many times, but he’d keep getting hard again and again just to please you and Nami. He’d be thanking you both the entire time, would probably orgasm at the mere suggestion of putting it up your ass. 

Sanji inviting Ace to join the two of you. "You want me to give you some pointers, huh?" Ace leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and observing as Sanji fucks you, then stepping in to show Sanji how to make you obey him, training you up a bit and teaching you some proper manners. Ace is just a little older and way more experienced, as well as a bit more domineering. He doesn’t let you get away with things the way Sanji does, doesn’t let you flip him on his back and ride him or cum whenever you want. He’s an easygoing dom, but a dom nonetheless, and you will be getting spanked if you mouth off. Ace even makes you bend over so he can demonstrate proper spanking technique on you for Sanji to use later.

Ace and Sabo would run you ragged. These two have boundless energy, and don’t think for a second they won’t be grinning and high-fiving when they get you on all fours, Ace rubbing his hand up and down your back while he fucks your pussy, Sabo holding your hair back for you while he fucks your mouth, both of them praising you for taking their big cocks like a champ. They don’t compete like Zoro and Sanji but rather work in tandem to draw as many orgasms out of you as possible. They show off, but not necessarily in a competitive way. “Sabo, check this out.” “Whoah, Ace, so cool. Let me try.” When you’re all finished, they’ll cuddle you between them, Ace with his face buried in your chest, Sabo asleep on your stomach. They might wake you up in the middle of the night to go again, but only after they eat everything in the fridge. 

Sabo may not compete with Ace, but he would definitely compete with Koala. It would be a constant battle between the two, Koala sick of Sabo bedding everyone attractive without giving her the chance, Sabo unwilling to relent (greedy motherfucker). There would be a couple of toys floating around, too, Sabo only allowing Koala to be the one to hold the vibrator to your clit while you have his big cock in your mouth (it neutralizes him) and complaining when you two share a dildo because his cock is right there. Sabo fucking you both silly and then passing out immediately after, Koala giggling and cuddling you. 

Sabo making your husband watch as he fucks your brains out- you, a pretty aristocrat, and your husband, a pampered lord. He’s done this countless times before, knows damn well how many noble wives are just starving for a young bull to rearrange their insides and how many lords are willing to watch someone do it for them. Normally, he’d refuse to do anything for those sniveling bastards, but in scenarios like this, he’s willing to help them out. Sabo holding your legs open while he fucks up into you, making your husband watch as he cums several times inside you, reminding you he’s the second in command of the Revolutionary Army and now he owns your royal pussy. Sabo arriving late to meet Koala with swollen lips and a mischievous gleam in his eye that Koala is well aware means he was just naked between some satin sheets. 

Robin using her devil fruit to hold down both you and Koala, Robin’s many hands twisting your nipples and holding vibrators to both of your clits while Robin giggles, you and Koala whimpering and whining. Robin going down on each of you after you cum. You and Koala working together to hold Robin down like she held you down and making her cum. Riding Koala’s face while she shares a dildo with Robin. You holding a vibrator to Koala’s clit while Robin fucks her with a dildo. So many sweet kisses and orgasms shared between the three of you. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[cannofsardines]

HELLO! Sorry if I bother you but I have something stuck in my head and I can't get it out- HEAR ME OUT- Bot!Reader that is programmed to report/ban exploiters created by an admin to make their work easier. One way or another, he arrives at Forsaken, getting to know and befriending the survivors, especially 007n7. Reader gets so attached to 7n that when they find out he is an exploiter, they are like:

For some reason, I can't stop imagining bot!Reader walking away to a deserted area with a pillow so they can scream into it out of frustration for not being able to report/ban their new friend Because they feel that they would be betraying him after he has been so kind to them. Sorry for making this too long, schizophrenia hits hard at night/j

: 007n7 & GN!Robot Reader

:this request sounded cute, I couldn't help but entertain the idea immediately

Content below : Fluff , Reader becoming more sentient , Platonic relationship

There was no denying that after Builderman and Shedletsky's disappearance, everything went to hell. The Roblox Hq? Not even a speck of the previous organized place it was in sight anymore. Papers? scattered all around the office, the neatly organized files are now disarranged. Admins? They were too busy to bother to help around the place, mainly because the disappearance of the head of Roblox Hq encouraged nasty exploiters/griefers to become more bold in performing their once in a while shenanigans

Hell even the most positive admins of all who held her head high in every despair they found themselves in could no longer keep up her usual charisma, she may be able to convince the others and herself that everything will be fine but there was nothing passing your keen eye and observations. So what did this all mean? From your previous gathering, the quote 'The world is in chaos' more or less fits this exact circumstance.

Turning a blind eye to the miserable state of the team as of now, you were tasked to capture an uprising hacker. Or how the admin team would like to put it, 'a nuisance becoming of a bigger headache that is comparable to a brain tumor.' Which your program translated to: stress and frustration, one thing you were meant to help with if the source of the emotion was from an exploiter

Thanks to your trusty tracker built inside of you, you were quick to locate the nuisance with little to no issue. Or you thought until you felt your vision go static and then next was darkness..

Luckily that's not where your story ended and you found yourself rebooted back up, only to meet face to face with Builderman. The man that many, many many were desperately searching for. But his face didn't hold his signature smile, in place of it was furrowed eyebrows and narrowed eyes. He looked exhausted, which was an unusual look for the old man

"There.. think yer all good to go"

"No way! Is that the good ol' bot that saved us a ton of time back then?"

You turned your head over to the source of the voice and was met with another recognizable face, Shedletsky. Though he didn't seem to share the distress Builderman clearly was in, he actually looked the same as he was. Save for the fact that he lost some weight according to your scanner yet the smile he wore stayed the same

RETURN WITH THEM IMMEDIATELY. The thought popped up in your mind and followed through the command with not a second wasted. You clasped both of your hands and offered the idea of going back to the Roblox HQ, relaying the distress the admins have been in and the chaos that was barely under their control. But a half minute in your speech, you detected clear signs of discomfort and sadness on their expressions. This left you confused, did they no longer want to serve the robloxians? Leaving citizens to suffer?

This cannot be, you had to beg them to come back if so. Your mind registered, though before you could attempt to convince the two, they had already beat you to it. And it seemed like they read your mind because before you could vocalize your concern, Builderman held a hand up and shook his head

"No can do.. if we had tha option to do so, we would've been back a long time champ"

Sensing your confusion, he went into detail about the circumstances you guys were stuck in. And from what you understood, the two along with more have been stuck in this.. cabin for some time now, or well they couldn't give a specific time because there wasn't even a calendar!

The news obviously left you in disbelief and a state of denial, the concept of it sounded otherworldly, impossible even. This wasn't adding up in the coding you had and you could've sworn trying to even entertain the smidge of the idea had your circuits frying. You hastily exited the cabin, or what they referred to as the 'safe zone'.

This couldn't be..! Your program desperately tried to deny the unbelievable, you profusely scanned the area multiple times in an attempt of searching for retrieving the name and place of where you currently were but to no avail, it was a failure. You could feel heat pooling up within your body from overheating and you needed to calm down now before it got worse and you were left in the dark again

But before you passed out, you heard a faint echo of a timid voice behind you, calling out to you. You turned around but from the sudden motion, you instead collapsed. The last thing you saw was worry and shock etched onto that person's face, along with a burger hat with a noob on top that made them easily different from others

REBOOTING.. You woke up to a place unfamiliar again, yet there was someone who's face was mere inches away from yours. Seeing you come online caused a nervous smile to grace his face. From the small bar of signal you had, you managed to gather basic information about him online. Such as his name and age

"Oh thank telamon— y-you're alright.. I wasn't sure if my skills were enough in the predicament you were in.."

"You should uh.. be good now though! I fixed some lines in your coding"

He let out a sigh of relief, before he leaned back, bit his lip and scratched the back of his neck. A series of mumbling left his mouth mixed with criticism towards your creators skills, you couldn't help but feel clear disdain yet you obviously couldnt vocalize them. Not when you owed him one for helping you back there

Although your distaste for his choice of words was obvious as he felt your glare pierce a hole in his head. The air suddenly grew heavy. 007n7 Stood up hastily, a spew of incoherent words that sounded like apologies before ultimately trying to leave. Yet you denied him the option so, you clutched his wrist in a tight grip that had him trembling. The brunette was expecting harsh words but what came next was far different from it, instead the words that left your mouth was a request.

A request that asked for his knowledge about this 'Hell' Builderman claimed it to be, which ultimately shocked you too. Those words came out without your usual logical line of thinking, the thing that aided you in unpredictable times like these

Fortunately for you, or thank telamon above as they say, 007n7 agreed to do so. Definitely because of the vacant stare you had at the time followed by the tight hold you had on him. Totally not.. Well whatever, he agreed to it nonetheless and he surely couldn't back out now!

A few.. Days? Weeks? Months? It was difficult to tell even when you were made out of advance technology, but you don't believe you're at fault for that, not when majority of your programming required a strong connection at the very least. All you knew was that minutes were passing and every second you weren't nearby your now friend, 007n7, the familiar heat was building up in your system

Speaking of 007n7, after awhile he seemed to finally ease up around you, which was good news! The bad news? You had to go against your program majority of the time which was to never lie just to be around him. Why, you may ask? Well simply because he was the only person who made you feel.. What robloxians referred to as 'Happy'. Despite having 'befriended' the other survivors and them being decent company, they couldn't replicate the feeling of friendship 007n7 supplied you with

This was surely against your codes but you didn't care. If anything, it only made you feel like a robloxian, not a hunk of steel that could only understand emotions but not feel them. Desires outside of banning exploiters were definitely outside what you were made for, but it only proved you were anything but just a walking vessel for the admin team. Something outside endless lines of binary codes and programming

Well, the feeling didn't last for long. Not when you found something out about your dear friend that would leave you in a wrecked state.

Builderman could no longer stand seeing a creation of his and his team hang around somebody they were coded to ban, especially when it was obvious the pair were getting closer to each other every round. So he did what he felt like he was supposed to do

You were sat down by Builderman in the living room, and the words that left his mouth had left you stunned. The person you were getting attached to, 007n7, had.. history of hacking? That wasn't something your line of codes could ignore or let pass. A surge of banning methods entered your head and your hands itched to execute them on 007n7 with no hesitation. Your hands clenched to a fist before it opened repeatedly and you felt your eye twitch

But instead of acting out on the thoughts, you held onto any semblence of self control a robot could possibly have and the good memories you were able to make with the former hacker. You grabbed a nearby pillow, walked away from the cabin filled with survivors and burrowed your face onto the plush item before you released the pent up frustration and anger you managed to gather in one sitting. Now the real question was, how were you supposed to deal with the aftermath..?

.

.

.

:My phone died half way so I had to write a new ending for this because i couldn't save it..

[cherryobx]

Tomorrow

request: here

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

summary: your best friend Rafe picks you up from a party and takes you home

warnings: drunk shenanigans, mentions of alcohol, one sexual innuendo, Rafe being a gentleman (lmk if i missed anything), not proofread

wc: 1.9k

“Where is she?” Rafe grabs the arm of one of your friends and stops her in her tracks. He got many drunk texts from you in the past couple of hours which seemed to become more and more intelligible as time went on so he made the decision to pick you up before you did something you would regret in the morning.

He knew how anxious you were to come to this party but since it was your best friend’s birthday, you couldn’t exactly opt out. He had offered to accompany you but you insisted you’d be fine even though he knew you didn’t do very well in big crowds and were more comfortable with smaller groups of people or with him. Your best friend.

The house is almost shaking because of how loud the music is and he can barely hear himself think. There are so many people and he can’t spot you anywhere.

“In the kitchen, I think,” your friend answers before she’s pulled away by a group of girls who are excited about the song blasting through the speakers, claiming it’s their song.

Rafe pushes himself through the open space where people are dancing and goes in the direction he thinks the kitchen is in. When he finally makes it to the kitchen, you’re nowhere in sight. He frowns. Where the hell are you?

Then he spots you through the kitchen window in the backyard. You’re sitting in the hot tub with all your clothes still on. There’s a drink in your hand and you’re laughing at something someone said next to you.

Rafe takes a moment to take you in. It’s almost weird seeing you like this. You’re shy by nature and chatting with strangers is something you never do, so he’s almost starstruck by how stress-free you seem to be while conversing with the people sitting in the tub with you. 

He likes how you’re a more confident version of yourself when you’re drunk but he likes shy you way more because it’s just so authentically you. He likes when you hide behind him in social settings, using him as a shield. He likes when you make him order your food because you’re nervous to do it yourself. He likes how you’re quiet in front of people but start chatting his ear off once you two are alone. He likes how observant you are, always surprising him with stuff he himself didn’t even notice. He just likes you.

“Rafe!” you happily cheer as he walks through the patio door and towards the hot tub where you’re sitting.

He smiles ear to ear at your excitement. “Hi!” He greets you as you place your drink on the edge of the hot tub and wobbly stand up, exiting the water.

He grabs your arm gently, not wanting you to fall over as you climb out. Water drips from your clothes and he feels it hit his shoes and soak through the sneakers he’s wearing. But he doesn’t mind.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, looking up at him as you cling to him in an attempt to stay upright.

“I’m taking you home,” he states.

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Why?”

“Because you’re drunk.” He brushes a wet strand of hair out of your face and behind your ear. You subconsciously lean into his touch.

“So? I’m having fun.” You grab your drink and attempt to take a swig of the liquid in your cup but Rafe snatches it from your hands.

“You’re going to regret it in the morning.”

“I’m an adult I can make my own decisions,” you contended, placing your hands on your hips. Rafe can see how you’re trying your hardest to maintain your balance but the slight back and forth rocking gives you away. You’re really drunk.

“Come on, let’s go home.”

“I wanna stay.”

He says your name in a warning tone which leaves no room for argument. 

“Fine.” You roll your eyes. “But I’m choosing the playlist.”

“Deal.” He victoriously places his hand over your shoulders and leads you out of the house.

“Wait!” You halt. “Where’s my phone?” Patting over yourself, you feel it in the back pocket of your jeans. 

Realisation dawns on you. “Fuck.” It was there when you were in the tub.

You pull it out of the pocket and examine it. Attempts to turn it on are unsuccessful and you’re frustrated. “It’s not working.”

Rafe grabs it from your hands and puts it in his own pocket before you start freaking out over it. He doesn’t need a drunk meltdown right now. “It’s okay. I’ll buy you a new one.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“It’s not up for discussion.” He says matter-of-factly as he starts leading you around the house and to his car which is parked on the street due to the driveway being full.

He buckles you into the passenger seat before he walks around the car and sits in the driver seat, turning on the ignition.

Rafe hands you his own phone which is already connected to the bluetooth in his car. “Put on that playlist you wanted.” He pulls onto the road and starts driving towards your place.

You happily take his phone and pull up your own account on Spotify and press play on one of your playlists which you love.

The whole ride you dance in your seat and sing along to the songs loudly, occasionally leaning over to sing in his ear and annoy him which he only laughs at.

“Let’s get you to bed, princess.” He opens the door for you and offers you his hand to help you out of the car.

“I don’t wanna go to bed. I wanna dance!” you jump around and he smiles at the sight. You’re so care-free.

“You need to go to sleep.”

“You need to go to sleep.”

He rolls his eyes. “Very mature.”

“Thank you.”

He chuckles at that and places his hand on your lower back, guiding you towards your house.

“Where are your keys?” he asks once you reach the front door. Your parents are sleeping and all the lights are off in the house.

“In my pocket.”

“Take them out then?”

“You take them out.”

“Stop being difficult.” He shakes his head as he sighs.

“I dare you to take them out of my pocket.”

“For Christ’s sake,” he says as he pinches the bridge of his nose before he gives into your antics and reaches into the front pocket of your jeans, pulling out the set of keys and finding the one which unlocks the front door. “What do I get for doing your dare?”

He opens the door and ushers you inside, locking it behind him.

“What do you want?” 

“I want you to go to bed.” He leads you towards your room and even opens the door for you, letting you enter first.

“Boring.” You boo him and give him a thumbs down which makes him chuckle.

“Put something dry on before you jump into bed, please,” he demands, making you groan. 

“These are just fine.”

“You’re literally soaking wet.” He regrets his choice of words immediately when he sees the smirk forming on your face. “I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.”

“Do I, Rafe? Do I?”

“Put something dry on. Now.”

“Yes, boss.” You straighten your back and raise your hand to your temple in a mock-salute. He just shakes his head.

You find your pyjamas and he turns around as you change out of your wet clothes. 

“No peeking,” you warn him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“You totally would.”

He laughs and shakes his head. You’re impossible.

When you’ve changed your clothes, you sit against the headboard and shove your legs under the warm covers. Rafe sits on the edge of the bed beside you.

“How are you feeling?” There’s a hint of worry in his tone as he looks you over.

“Fantastic.” Your smile is wide.

“Of course you are.”

A moment of silence passes between you two before he notices you’re fidgeting with the rings on your fingers, indicating you’re nervous. He has picked up on your nervous habits over the years and this is one of them.

“You okay?” He places his hand gently on your thigh. Even with the covers separating your skin you feel your cheeks heat up at the contact.

“Will you stay?”

“Stay?”

“With me? Will you spend the night?”

He tilts his head, a soft look in his eyes. He doesn’t even have to think about his answer because he could never say ‘no’ to a request like that, especially coming from you. “Of course.”

He crawls under the covers with you and you curl up against him. Your faces are close and you’re breathing each other’s air. His arms are wrapped around you and he holds you as close to him as possible, warming you up with his body heat.

You bring your hand to his face and touch his face with the tips of your fingers, skimming over his eyebrows, nose, cheeks and then lips.

“What are you doing?” he asks out of curiosity.

The alcohol has given you courage you would never have sober. You’ve been hiding your feelings for him for so long and in this state it feels almost impossible to keep them to yourself any longer.

You lean in. Before your lips can touch his, he pulls back slightly. Looking at you with almost concern in his eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asks again.

“I wanna kiss you.” You admit, eyes drifting from his lips to his eyes and then back to his lips. God, he’s gorgeous.

“You’re drunk.”

“So?”

He scoffs. “So? You’re not in the right condition for this.”

“I’m exactly in the right condition for this,” you argue, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his chest.

“No, you’re not.”

“Why don’t you wanna kiss me?” The disappointment is evident in your eyes and it breaks his heart. He would kiss you without thinking twice if you were sober while asking this. But you weren’t.

“Believe me, I want to kiss you more than anything but I’m not gonna take advantage of you in this state.”

“You wouldn’t take advantage of me. I know what I’m doing.”

“I know, sweetheart, but I’m not doing it when you’re drunk.”

“Please?” You make puppy-eyes at him and as much as he wants to kiss you dumb right then and there, he stands his ground. He’s wanted this for a long time but he’s a gentleman with morals after all.

“I’m sorry, no.”

He pulls you closer against his chest and you hide your face in the crook of his neck, your shyness returning. “I’m sorry,” you mutter.

“What are you apologising for?”

“For coming onto you like that. We’re best friends. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Hey.” He grabs your chin and makes you look him in the eye. “You’ll always be my best friend, even if whatever it is between us evolves into something else. But this is not the right time to have this conversation. Let’s talk about this tomorrow, okay?”

You give him a small smile as you agree. “Okay.”

“Good. Now, off to sleep you go.”

“Asshole.”

“You love me.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head as you drift off to sleep between his arms, feeling safe and secure.

part 2