#(he's trying and failing so hard xD)

[handsomethrowrug]

@musemelodies - Continued from here

-

Oof. Tetchy. For once, Scar was trying to be polite and sociable, and instead he gets greeted with raised hackles.

"Oh please. Take a deep breath before you pop a blood vessel from stress. I was merely asking out of curiosity. Like I said, meerkats aren't commonly found so close to Pride Rock." This was why Scar didn't usually reach out to chat. Animals always took it the wrong way. Wonder why that was?

"And it isn't like I'm deliberately watching you. There are only a certain few types of animals that pass this close to Pride Rock. Anyone who casts a glance out toward the plains would notice a new face."

[elektroyu]

Character design is haaaarrrrdddd 😂😂

[kiingbiing]

-

[adastra121]

Alon the Stray Hound

I redesigned my Touchstarved Hound!MC to have more of a showman-y vibe, since they’re a magician. Do you believe in the heart of the cards?

Pronouns: Usually uses She/They, but they’re honestly fine with any pronouns Birthday: March 20 Height: 4’11 / 150cm Personality: So a bleeding heart, unwarranted hero complex, and astounding immaturity walk into the Wick and see that their good friends, dignity and self-preservation couldn’t make it… Likes: Street food, dancing, rowdy taverns, making friends, pranks, adventure Dislikes: Rules, rich people, rainy days, boredom, bullies Fatal flaw: Would turn her self-destruction into a joke, but hey, at least it’d make for a decent stand-up routine in hell Other: She has a terrible singing voice that was once mistakenly reported as a Soulless attack — by the end of the song, the neighbours probably preferred a Soulless attack. Quote: “Look, buddy, I’m no stranger to failure — ideally, you don’t, but if you do, best to have fun with it, yeah?”

More about them below:

Alon is cheerful, mischievous, and outgoing. They love to make new friends wherever they are.

She’s restless, never stays in one place, and fidgets a lot, so she practised sleight of hand from a young age. It came in handy haha for thieving, but they’ve also become quite good at street magic. It’s not the real thing, of course, but it opens up busking as an option to earn coin (and get close enough to unsuspecting rich folks’ pockets in the process)

They specialize in street magic, which combines close-up, stage, and platform magic. They also do escapology (good at picking locks and getting out of sticky situations) and comedy magic (they don't shut up).

She has a lucky deck of cards that she usually shuffles and fidgets with.

As a trickster and magician, she tends to use tricks, jokes, and the unexpected in confrontations. They’re hard to catch, easy to miss—

Her fighting style is summarized by that one clip with RDJ as Sherlock where he keeps discombobulating his opponent (give or take ten hours).

Unlike my other MCs, Alon has no specific reservations about Monsters. It’s kind of hard to when you’ve been threatened, abused, and betrayed by humans your entire life. Like, at that point, what worse could a Monster do to you? Anything they try, you guarantee a non-Monster already attempted.

100% the kind of person to, at someone pointing a knife at them, go, “Well. This night just took a sharp turn.” or “What’re you gonna do, stab me? …Damn, they actually stabbed me.” *surprised pikachu face*

They have a knack for breaking into places they shouldn’t be, like a persistent raccoon that keeps finding its way into your trash or attic. Back with their old crew, she was usually the one who could squeeze into the tight spaces as the smallest thief. So yeah, the Senobium being locked to outsiders is a bit of a hiccup in her plans, but they’re not deterred.

You’d think Alon would be more reserved and distant because of their curse, but they’re actually a very physically affectionate person

Not to say they’re not cautious about it — she always keeps their hands bandaged or covered — she’s just found ways to give people physical affection without the use of her hands. They’d jokingly bump shoulders with someone. They’d lean on someone to physically comfort them. They nuzzle their head against their loved ones.

She doesn’t usually let strangers initiate physical contact, not necessarily because she’s uncomfortable with it, it’s usually for their own safety. Strangers don’t know them well enough to know her hands are off-limits. But if she’s known you for a while, she welcomes the physical exchanges.

They distance themself in their own ways. She hides pain or discomfort with jokes and charm. Good luck getting them to be serious about something she absolutely does not want to address.

Like their old crew’s betrayal. Some of them, they’ve known since they were a kid. They grew up together. And yet, when it came down to it, she wasn’t worth more to them than a fat purse of coin. “At least it was a fat purse of coin. Anything less and damn, they’d have really hurt my feelings!”

Direct questions about their cursed hands usually lead to jokes and misdirection, I wonder if you caught that, by the way:

“Want to tell me what’s up with the bandages?” “What bandages?” “Okay.”

“Pffft, you believe hands are real?”

“You’re looking at the aftermath of a super embarrassing tattoo I got one night while drunk as shit. Highly recommend the artist, though. Y'heard of Rahim?”

“Important piece of cooking advice, don’t put out grease fires with water! …Oh, that has nothing to do with my bandages, it’s just a good tip to remember.”

“I’m saving them for marriage.”

“Bad case of halitosis.” “That’s an oral condition.” “…Real bad case.”

Aside from that, she’s rather open and wears their heart on their sleeve for any potential new friend.

Eridia is a new beginning, a new world far away from the walls she's always known. It's supposed to be all she's ever wanted, but beyond the excitement of a new adventure, she feels so alone it's almost paralyzing.

They go back to the dream they've had since childhood, they go back to focusing on finding a cure, and they keep moving forward because if they stop for even a second for the grief and loneliness to catch up to them, they don't know if they'll survive it.

Her zodiac sign is Pisces

MBTI is ENFP

Enneagram is 7w6

I also updated their character playlist. I associate her with more energetic music, like electro swing, songs that you could hear someone running away from the guards to:

“Monsoon Nights” by Sekai no Owari

“One Jump Ahead” by Brad Kane

“All Star” by Smashmouth

“The Hand that Feeds” by The Crave Wives

“To Noise Making (Sing)” by Hozier

“Curses” by The Crane Wives

“Tears of a Clown” by Smokey Robinson & The Miracles

“Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen

“Good Life” by OneRepublic

“Lost Boy” by Ruth B

“On Top of the World” by Greek Fire

“Good Riddance” Cover by Annapantsu ft. IdrysLTS

"Tavern Crawl" by Runesmith, JoCat, Annapantsu and friends Okay, I have, like, a vision. Alon is giving a tour through Eridia’s best spots. The first tavern is the Senobium’s gates. The second is Elyon's brothel (mostly because of the singer being unable to pay and how fitting “Rail-Away” is for a brothel). The third is the Seaspring (“Don’t be surprised by what lurks on inside and really, don’t fight it. Believe me, I tried.” to describe our pal Ocudeus). The last one is the Wet Wick and it’s their favourite because it’s got the Bloodhounds, always ready for a show (“This tavern’s my favourite, it’s got its own band, and they’re always more than happy to lend me a hand!”)

Here’s their new full character design!

I changed it from the original, which had a more swashbuckling pirate feel, since I wanted to incorporate more of the magician and performer aspects of Alon into their design. …It’s giving Wonka, lowkey. I did consider giving them a top hat but…yeah. XD Edit: I added a diamond pattern to the inside of her vest! I like the new addition.

As with my other MCs, I incorporated their backstory symbol into their design. In Luneth, the Unnamed symbol is in her bodice. In Jin, the Alchemist symbol is in his medallion and spellbook. In Alon, the Hound symbol is in their cards.

I also tried to include the specific shapes of each backstory symbol in each MC so Jin’s design has a bunch of circles, Luneth’s has diamonds, and Alon has several triangles.

Here are the bios of my other Touchstarved MCs:

Luneth the Reluctant Unnamed

Jin the Abandoned Alchemist

[notsodailycake]

Part 3 for the fitclet I did for @keferon 's mecha pilot jazz au! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

For those who missed it:

Part 1 || Part 2

This is probably the longest out of all the 3 parts, dear god, I went all in. It came out bigger than I ever expected it to be. I was not expecting it to go this far honestly, but the parasites in me, they begged for more. So here we are! :D

Again tho, idk how in character they will be here, but I tried my best ＼(*T▽T*)／. Also, kinda bullshitted my way through in worldbuilding bc idk how things work exactly- and I had to come up with stuff on my own, even tho I'm not that good in mecha world stuff, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies ^^;;

Now, to give credit to those who so desperately deserve it:

My sister @saltynsassy31 for helping me when I couldn't write out some of my ideas and doing it herself (so consider this as a bit of a frankenstein monster of both our writing styles, mainly during intense scenes. If there is any fancy words in this, it's cuz of her) and being my beta reader for this part. Seriously yall, this wouldn't have been as coherent and well written without her help!

Also huge thanks to my online sister @yayadrawsthingz for helping out when I hit a few road blocks during this!

And finally, a huge huge thanks to my honorary online uncle @hexyz09 for helping me finish off the final fight scene when I got stuck during some plot holes and road blocks, or generally just writing myself into a corner and having to help me leave it, despite not knowing jackshit about the au, let alone the ship and characters themselves, but was still willing to help me through in working on the plot, in this crazy obsession of mine XD

Yall have no idea how much help these guys were. Probably wouldn't be able to finish without either of their help ᕦ(òωóˇ)ᕤ

Oh and an honourable shoutout to the song "Headlock" by Imogen Heap! Kept listening to this on loop as it kept my drive up to write this.

Now onto the fic!

---

Prowl ignored Jazz's various attemps to push out his servo from the cockpit. Despite the mech being weak himself, the human was still no match against thousands of pounds of metal, especially in his own weakened state.

Which was a matter of its own at the moment. Prowl knew he had very little time to be able to run ahead before the other humans caught on to them, having noticed the alarm bells ringing through the facility.

So he ran towards the exit Jazz had initially pointed out, the only plan they had at the moment.

...

"Prowl! Prowler, hey! I know you can hear me! Prowl!" Jazz shouted as he slammed yet another fist in a failed attempt to nudge the bot's servo out of the way. He hasn't said a word since picking Jazz up, and he wasn't sure how long that was, maybe not that much, but it felt too long yet too little at the same time (what a headache).

Sliding down, he gently hit his forehead over the protective servo and let out a sigh of defeat. No way he could get him to move like this.

Why was he trying to anyways? Didn't he want to be with Prowl? He certainly did, but somehow, something in him made him feel like he shouldn't just be accepting this.

And maybe Prowl also knew this, which is why he took off and hasn’t said a word since. Both held conflicted feelings about the whole thing. If only things didn't feel so blurry right now!

Suddenly, a hard shift made Jazz stumble a bit, grasping at whatever he could so he didn't fall back, loud noises of metal scrapping metal could be heard as something got kicked open on the outside. Jazz scrambled over to the small crevice that opened between Prowl's digits, not enough for him to fit anything over other than his hand, but enough to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

Prowl had kicked down the exit door to the lab ('not like he had the hands available to properly open the damn thing anyways' Jazz thought to himself). It was meant for mechas to exit the room after they finish off whatever it is they do in here, that Jazz knew, and if he was right, just down the hall there will be another exit leading to the backroom where they stockpiled the mech suits. No one but the technicians were usually supposed be there, it would be an easy fight to get to the big gate that lead to the outside training grounds, which is why Jazz had pointed for the mech to go down there in the first place.

There shouldn't have been a problem besides giving him time to leave unscathed. Which Jazz assumed would not be the case as he was currently inside Prowl and not buying him time to escape. But, to Jazz's surprise, nothing had come close to attacking them, yet.

The pilot did not have much time to contemplate it as suddenly he heard Prowl rumble an annoyed grunt.

"Don't move."

In shock, Jazz stumbled back as Prowl removed his hand and reached for the end of the overhead gate, seemingly alot harder to kick down than a two way door. The only thing it would really do would be to bend the metal a bit but it wouldn't give an open entrance. Jazz didn't dare leave, not like he could from this hight, but even if he could, Prowl would probably just pick him up again; it be a waste of energy really (just admit it, you don't want to leave him). But something about this felt wrong, so far they haven't had a single guard come down the hall, just this small pause would give them enough time to catch up to the two runaways, Jazz was sure that guards had been on his tail when he was under his rampage.

Unless...

Wait.

"Prowl! Wait don't open that gate!" But he was too late, the moment he uttered those words the mech had already been in motion and pushed the gate up with all his might and as quickly as he opened it a gun shot came through the otherside. They had been waiting for them, they knew where they were heading. The bastard he kicked down prior to this probably saw them and reported it, dammit.

Prowl let out a strangled cry of pain as the shot landed right on his left shoulder (like it wasn't damaged enough by the lack of arm), Jazz fell backwards with the harsh motions, hitting the back of the pilot's seat, the impact leaving his vision to go dark for a few seconds before he collected himself as quickly as he could. In an instant though, just as he tried to get back up to see what was outside, Prowl had put his hand back over the open cockpit.

No...he wouldn't be able to fight like this, protecting him as he is would only hinder the bot to more damage. And that's exactly what Jazz intended to express to the other. "Prowl! You won't be able to fight with your hand over me! Forget about holding me inside, I won't leave, I promise!"

"That's not the point!" Prowl growled, letting out another hiss of pain as more shots were loaded, someone shouting out for them to stand down.

Prowl couldn't risk leaving Jazz exposed. Unlike the human, Prowl could take a few shots, their weapons not being strong enough to inflict any serious damage to his plating (though perhaps a bit to his exposed protoform, though he could handle it for a little while longer). But it would take one lucky shot on Jazz to have him dead in an instant, and Prowl couldn't take that chance.

It seemed like Jazz got the message, not spitting back any sort of remark about Prowl's lack of explanation.

But the mech couldn't linger too much on those thoughts, he had to get out, and fast. He was losing too much energon, and his vision was starting to get blurry, which wasn't a good sign. It didn't help that his thoughts were a hazy mess, his usual ability to think logically overthrown by the panic of needing to get out of this place while ensuring Jazz's survival.

It's not like he had much to do, though. Any possible escape hindered by the fact he couldn't use his weapons unless he risks Jazz's life to one lucky shot. Perhaps he could make a run for it, knock through the mechas in front of him and let them tumble over as he reached the final exit; it wasn’t the best plan perhaps, with at least a 19% rate of success, given he isn't in the best physical state at the moment, he probably wouldn't be strong enough to knock them over. Added to the fact the exit wasn't shut by a gate he could simply knock over easily either, like the previous one. He'd have to push it open from the bottom, and there wasn’t enough time for him to act on it.

But he'd have his back turned to the shots, reassuring Jazz's own safety, so he could perhaps risk removing his servo to push the gate open once more.

With a quick warning from his HUD telling him his energon levels were getting dangerously low, Prowl decided to take the risk, with little time left, he took a step forward making a run for it.

The mechas seemed to ready themselves for his attack, quickly positioning their weapons to target him, closing any narrow space they had between each other.

What they didn't expect was for the mech to charge his whole body weight onto them. Despite not feeling any pain, they certainly could not fight against gravity itself. They all stumbled against each other as Prowl made a mad dash to the gate. He slid on his knees and made a quick reach for the bottom of the gate, anxiously removing his hand from over the cockpit, bending over protectively as to not have anything be able to aim inside.

He could feel his spark beating fast from anxiety, they were so close, they'll be able to leave soon enough. Jazz was most certainly having a good feel to Prowl's anxious beat, the loud thruming reaching the bot's own audials was most certainly deafening to the human sitting near it.

Then, a shot.

A pop.

A blinding light.

And the beat stops.

Jazz was curling in on himself as an instinct to protect himself from the sudden burst behind him. It only took a few seconds for him to realise what that was once he couldn't hear a single beat of a spark, or the burning sensation it left, feeling his own heart stop and drop to his gut.

It felt like the world around him suddenly stopped, everything going into slow motion, with no sounds to accompany the dread. Feeling as Prowl's body leaned foward to crash on the ground.

But just as quickly as the silance came, it left. Prowl catching himself from hitting the ground with a grunt, a slam could be heard as his arm and elbow made contact with the concrete floor. His spark beating, weakly, but beating nonetheless. What felt like hours of silance was only a quick few seconds of deafening dread.

"Prowl!" Jazz called out in desperation, reaching out to hold the edges of the cockpit, so not to fall out, but to also try and comfort his anxiousness as he tried to look up at the mech's face. The mech made a sound of acknowledgement, which came out more like broken static, but didn't make much effort to move, his face scrunched up in pain, optics shut. They shot him on his back, too close to where his spark would be, causing him to skip a beat, and busting a bit of his left doorwing, but it still seemed to function somewhat.

Suddenly, both of them picked up on the sound of something opening, giving no time for either to fully process what had just occurred. Prowl made a quick move to get his hand over the cockpit once more (with slight struggle as he stumbled and fell on his aft) as a thick metal slab emerged from above and beneath, right in front of the gate, shutting it close with a protective layer of metal. Guessing by the red alarm ringing around them, an emergency protocol to keep anyone from leaving. Slag.

The mechas surrounded them, guns all aimed to shoot at the alien mech if he didn't comply.

It was silent for a brief moment, in exception to Prowl's anxious beating spark (which wasn't a problem for Jazz at the moment, the burning warmth being somewhat comforting) and Jazz's own heart beating over his ears. Both catching their breaths.

"There's no point in fighting. So make this easy for all of us and surrender yourselves." A nobody pilot finally spoke out, weapon leaning a tad closer than the others.

The atmosphere felt heavy, they were pinned down. Really, the only thing they could do was surrender, but Jazz would sure as hell be reprimanded for his actions and Prowl.....he didn’t want to think about that. No, he wouldn't even allow that thought to become any sort of reality.

"Prowl" he whispered, knowing only the mech would hear him, leaning a gentle souch to his servo as if to beg, "I know you might not have alot of trust 'n me, but this might be our best shot." There was a tense shift, not too noticeble unless you could see the mechanisms from the inside, Prowl knew what he was about to suggest. "You need to let me pilot you." He cringed as he felt the other's servo stiffen, he wasn't pleased with the idea, and neither was Jazz, but he knew this place alot better than Prowl did, and knew how to properly defeat the mechas, knowing their weak spots. And Prowl was all too aware of that too, Jazz knew it. They both were very aware of it all.

"Please," he begged, leaning his forehead on the mech's servo yet again, "I can't lose you again." There was slight shift, Jazz looked up, though he obviously couldn't see the mech's face, the sigh he let out was loud and clear. The controls on the pilot's seat shifted, Jazz got the message:

'Alright'

He couldn't help but let a small smirk creep over his face, making way to sit down and start piloting.

"Under one condition though," Prowl suddenly whispered to him, though it was alot louder to Jazz on the inside.

"And what would that be, partner?" The title flew out too fast for Jazz to stop himself, feeling so natural to call Prowl partner once more. The mech didn't seem against it though.

"No removing my hand."

Jazz was left stunned for a quick second, though it felt like a minute for Prowl as he waited for a reply eagerly.

"I can work with that." Prowl let out a sigh of relief at that, allowing the human, his partner, to take control of him again.

It took a moment for Jazz to adjust himself, in the meantime, the people waited outside anxiously for the other to make a move. When Prowl finally started to shift around to stand up with a small grunt, everyone raised their guns and loaded them up, but didn't shoot just yet. The mech looked up at them with a deadly glare, but made no move to attack, his remaining arm not leaving the open cockpit for a second, he simply stood up with a slight slump to his posture, doorwings drooping down slightly. In all possible ways, he looked weak and defeated, no signs of fighting back.

One of the mechas walked closer, gun still aiming at Prowl, but it was lowered slightly. They reached a hand out expectantly.

"The pilot, hand him over." They demanded, no sympathy whatsoever.

Prowl clutched his chasis, anger pooling over in his spark, doorwings twitching up slightly, but he made no move to attack. Not yet. He heard Jazz speak to him in a low tone so only he could hear it, with a sigh, he relaxed. He slowly, very slowly, drew out his hand from the cockpit, the action in itself having the other mecha have their body relax slightly as they approached the mech, weapon being put down slightly enough, and so did the others around them. Jackpot.

Before he fully removed his servo, the mech made move to crouch down and in a swift motion swung a peed over to the mechas own, catching them off balance and knocking them down. Jazz let out a small hiss to the action, forgetting his own injured leg, but pushed on regardless.

Using the thrusters of his doorwings, they were able to balance themselves back up, Prowl's servo going back into fully protecting it's pilot once more. With most weapons being aimed up and not down, it took a delayed second to aim correctly, but it was enough time for the human and cybertronian duo to twist themselves out of harms way.

Before the fallen pilot could attempt to get up, Jazz made move to aim over the weak spot of their mecha's knee and stepped hard enough to break its mechanisms so they couldn't stand back up easily. But the glory was short lived as more shots were fired their way.

Jazz's hand twitched to move and use its weapons, but he resisted the urge with a slight huff, "Man, 's hard to fight without an arm!"

"This is none negotiable, Jazz." Prowl hissed as they made move to avoid more shots.

"I know, I know! Don't mean it makes it easier!" Jazz tried to analyse their surroundings, though it was made difficult with the many HUD warnings from all the injuries (the pilot couldn't help but mutter a broken "I'm so sorry" to his partner, whether the mech heard him or not he wasn't sure), but pushing through it, he took note of a few key details. There was a metal catwalk grate near above the mechas' heads, running with a few on ground troops, the bastard of a boss being one of the few amongst them. Near a corner stood an elevator to go up and down the area.

How that could help, Jazz wasn't sure yet.

A shot hit Prowl's arm, pain flowed through the mech as he moved out of the way once more. Jazz looked around in a frenzy to find a place to shield themselves....the mechas! Making a run for to the lifeless husks, he swivelled around between them and hid behind the many rows of mechas knowing full well that they would not risk such precious resource and money just to reach them. At least he hoped not, because he just needed a little bit of time to figure something out.

Hearing the big man call out to hold their fire was good enough indication that his idea worked.

"Ok, now we just need somethin' to distract them long enough for us to make a jump to the ceiling." Jazz explained

"The ceiling?" Prowl inquired, not so certain about his partner's ability to properly think at the moment.

Jazz rolled his eyes, but didn't make mention of the mech's tone. "It's the weakest point here, plus" he made way for Prowl to look up to where he remembered the area to be at, "there's a trap door for flying mechas and emergencies. One quick press of a button will open it up, even under "safety protocols."" Prowl let out a hum in thought, seeming to analyse the situation.

"Possible, but where is this said button?"

"Behind the elevator, by the catwalk grating on top. There's a control panel, and one big red button, can't miss it."

"Would smashing it still get it to work?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't have any complaints."

"Good, now," Jazz went back to scanning the area, "how to cause a distraction?"

"Would that broken pipe be of any use?" Prowl made an effort to twitch his head over to the direction of what he wanted Jazz to see. And just as the mech stated, there, by the first floor of the elevator, stood a broken pipe, steam coming out of it.

Jazz smirked "it would actually. If we can get somethin' to shoot at it, we might cause an explosion, giving us time to jump up without being the target anymore."

"Sounds like a plan." Prowl shrugged.

"Don't have anything to add?" Jazz asked a bit surprised.

"No, I don't." The pilot didn't push.

"Okay. Well, let's get these bastards shootin." In quick motion, they made way to the elevator, already hearing the commands to shoot fire, 'but watch for the machines!' Weapons were loaded from above as well, shooting down at the two runaways once again.

Jazz made sure to move swiftly behind the mechas, making sure they were shielded properly. Any gaps they had to cross was a small risk they needed to take, scrapes and scratches being left in its wake, but tried not to do it too often, just enough that they could follow them. They eventually reached where the pipes were, Jazz took a deep breath.

"Ready, big guy?"

"Ready."

They stepped foward, making sure to call the attention towards where they were, but quickly retrieting back behind the mechas suits as they shot directly where they wanted to hit. "Bingo."

Quickly, activating Prowl's thrusters, they leaped over to the metal grates that stood above them as the pipes behind them burst, causing a huge commotion as empty mechas fell down and whatever machine near the crossfire tumbled down. Prowl let out a gasp as he felt the world around him spin, the grating beneath them not being of any help as it shook with his weight. Jazz was quick to hold on, helping the mech stablise himself before aiming with his left foot to kick the big red button with their ticket out of here, the motion causing his vision to flash in pain, but he bit his toung until he could taste iron and pushed forward.

Hearing the metal door above them open up, Jazz readied himself, but hesitated with the warning he'd received from Prowl's HUD from his low energon levels. He didn’t even get the chance to fully check on it though, Prowl quickly pushing them out of the way himself.

"I'll live, just one more push." The mech hastily reassured the human. Jazz wasn't inclined to belive it though, feeling the other's spark beat anxiously (and for some reason that made him feel slightly dizzy. Though he chalked it up to it being his possible concussion).

It took one shot to slip an inch away from Prowl's face for them to finally snap out of it and jump. One more push from his thrusters as they flew up through the trap door and landed on top of the roof with a grunt, the mech's left wing finally giving out.

But they weren’t in the clear yet. Looking out, a wasteland of a forest awaited them, with dense trees at the bottom.

"We'll have to make a jump for it. If we're lucky enough the trees will be big enough to hide us." Jazz supplied.

"45% of that happening. But we don't have much of another option at the moment." Prowl added

With all that being said, Jazz moved into action. With so much at stake, he had to, he couldn't waste another second in debating. Hefting Prowl up, he used all remaining strength to jump where they needed to go, but as the training grounds began to get closer than anticipated, Prowl knew they didn’t make the jump and that made the mech almost freeze.

Though Jazz had other plans, because as their impending flat doom approached in rapid speed, Prowl's remaining thruster burst to life and gave that final impusle they needed to reach the slope. They both braced themselves as they were thrown up and over to their intended destination, Prowl having half a mind to tighten his hold over his chest so none of the debris and impact could reach the fragile human still in his care.

They rolled down the slope, Prowl just barely being able to shift himself so that he was sliding on his back instead. The aggresive motion of going down a not so smooth path causing bigger cuts and slashes against his already damaged frame. But the only thing he could think of at the moment was that they made it.

Jazz was quick to let go of his control over Prowl, who in turn made an effort to sit properly. Though the sudden slamming to his servo made him look down worriedly, moving it slightly to see Jazz leaning on it desperately.

"Prowl-" he heaved, "Prowl put me down I'm feeling sick."

The mech panicked and quickly made move to help the human down, gently placing him on the grass below. Jazz made no effort in being graceful as he hurled over and puked his guts out, luckily avoiding Prowl in all of this.

Clutching his stomach in pain, his heaving and coughs agitating the injuries on his abdomen. Everything around him felt blurry and muffled as his body made sure to get everything he had eaten in the past day out of him.

What made him panic was the sudden taste of iron in his mouth as he coughed up whatever he had left inside. That's not good. And that definitely didn't escape the giant mech's notice, who kept a hovering servo near him.

"Jazz! Is that blood?!" His voice sounded so broken, static lacing over his words.

"Uh- Yeah. Yeah it is." He wasn't sure how to deny that really, and he felt too light-headed to try. But his attention diverted to the sudden pink glow that landed at the side of his vision.

Energon.

Quickly looking up, he finally got a glance at his partner's battered condition. Energon leaked from many different parts of his body, but the main source being from his missing arm. Jazz couldn't help but cringe at that.

But what hurt him the most to see was the weak light from the mech's optics, which still held visible concern on them. Despite being close to going into offline, he still looked at Jazz as if he's about the crumble into dust and leave him. Which he honestly, maybe, felt like. But seeing Prowl's optics flicker as they fought to stay online, Jazz panicked

"What 'bout you?!" He called back, catching the bot off guard. "You're losing too much energon! You look like you're about to go offline!"

Prowl cringed a little, not having anything to counter that. "Well that's because I-"

"No! I'm only a little bit dizzy, but I'll live. We need to patch you up right now!"

"I can help with that."

The new voice catches the duo off guard, Prowl immediately reaching out to Jazz, hand shielding the human from whoever that might be. Jazz looked down from where he was looking at Prowl and turned to see who it was that the voice came from.

There standing in front of them was a human carrying a simple tool box and a huge backpack strapped over one shoulder, filled with questionable things.

---

BEFORE YOU LEAVE, a little something I would like to point out for the fic, that some of yall with either like or not, during the process of writing this, I've seen a few posts keferon made about the spark being radioactive and such, and it sorta made me think a bit while developing Jazz's condition. So well, take Jazz's health in this as you will with this info :)

But anyways, yippie!! That's all for today folks! I hope yall enjoyed this one bc I definitely had a heck of a time writing this one XD

It got alot bigger than I anticipated and took much longer to finish than I originally planned (was supposed to be done 2 days ago).

Now, I know I keep saying "not sure if I'll make another part to this" but then proceed to do so anyways. But I mainly do so because everytime I shared it someone said something that added to the story somehow and gave me ideas to continue foward.

So like, if yall liked this and wanna see more, don't be shy to suggest/add anything to this as it may help inspire me to add more onto this, cuz honestly idk what the fuck I'm doing rn, I'm just going with the flow ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Also, a bit of note for the doodle, holy shit I did not expect it to look this good!! Tho I suffered with Jazz's suit, plz ignore any inaccuracies tee-hee. Prowl's knee and hands were hell too, especially his knee, but i could like, hide most of it lmao. Actually mainly struggled to not have his hand cover Jazz too much bc it kept covering the parts I actually wanted to show off lmao.

Oh and the guy at the end? Yall can take a good guess as to who it is :)

But since he doesn't have any official design, I kinda went with whatever felt right lol.

I also really wanted to draw out more scenes to add to the fic, but then it would take me a lot more time to actually post the fic as I figure out how to draw robots :'). But maybe I can try and doodle them out another time if I can, no promises tho-

[midday-clouds]

Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》 IV

Part I Part II Part III Part V

Wow, can't believe this was just a concept idea and this is part IV XD Part V may be the end but I'm not entirely sure. Don't get your hopes up for a part VI

Also, some of y'all wanted a tag list soo (Did my best but I couldn't @ some of you-)

Tag: @redkarmakai @erikasurfer @szapizzapanda @kore-of-the-underworld @imhere2dosomething @pastel-mouse @cooki3dough @naina326 @peptox @ladylupuscrow @confused-they @megasweetbones @1-800-crazy @lillian-morningstar @butterflycardigann

CW: Mention of past kidnapping, bar fight, blood, "death" and lab testing. Self-harm (Reader testing their ability). Gun shot and injury.

After you finally get Richard Grayson off your windowsill, you can sit down and eat

What makes him think that he can just walk into your life?! And with him being a vigilante, he most definitely could have saved you all that time ago! 

To clear your head, you try to remember what happened before you found yourself in your “brother’s” apartment. 

You and your friends wanted to go to a bar before college started…….a fight happened….How are your friends?! Did classes start already?! 

Opening your group chat with your friends, there are some messages about the bar fight, Red Hood, and how they’d visit you in the hospital

When making your message for the chat, you lie about being discharged from the hospital and ask if classes have already started

Your friends are so kind and update you on everything that has happened since you were in the hospital

The fall semester has begun but you should have an excuse because you were in the hospital

With some help, you were able to email all your professors about your absence and just hope they don’t drop you from the classes

Also hope they don’t ask for any documents from the hospital to confirm that you were there.

After a bit of rambling, you and your friends log off the group chat for the night. You never told them about what actually happened to you or what you found out about Nightwing, Red Hood, etc.

The information is difficult for you to process. Your whole family are famous vigilantes and no one came to save you when you were kidnapped. 

And Nightwing, he really was your first friend in Bludhaven and it always hurts to lose someone close

But he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve your attention and time when he abandoned you just like the rest of the family.

You would have been dead if it wasn't for this weird thing that keeps your heart beating!

Maybe it would be a good idea to test this “power” of yours. You’ve died twice now and it seems that it takes a couple of days to heal and regain consciousness

Just for a small test, you make a small cut on your finger and watch it heal right before your eyes. You were hesitant to do these tests at first but this is also fascinating

Another cut is but a little bigger and it takes a little longer to heal. 

This continues a few times before you can have an idea of how long it takes for your body to heal itself. 

Once you’re done, you decide to go to sleep again and wait until it’s morning

Back at the manor, Tim has been hard at work. Making multiple plans that will end with you coming back home

Some are more intense than others but it can't be helped if you decide to be difficult 

Tim has also spent a lot of time researching your “powers”

Back when Dick saved you from that thief, Tim took the knife with your blood on it for research

Some interesting findings can be helpful if all else fails

It’s around noon when you wake up and your professors responded to your emails

They say that you’re allowed to keep your classes but there is a lot of classwork to catch up on

After eating some lunch, you sit down and look over all the work you’ve got to do. That is a lot….

You spend all day struggling and planning how you’ll get help

The next day, you decide to go to class. You go a little early because you knew you’d likely be lost

Luck seems to be on your side because you’re able to find your classroom! 

Walking inside, you talk to the professor and they tell you about a project for pairs

Thankfully, you’ve already been assigned a pair so you won’t be alone. You do feel bad about not being here to help though 

The professor points you in the direction of your partner and you introduce yourself. The moment your pair looks at you, your mood immediately takes a 180

Why is Tim Drake in your class? Doesn’t he go to a college in Gotham or something?

You pretend to be polite until the professor walks away and you glare at your partner while he just smiles at you

When you sit next to Tim, you try to sit as far away from him but he just moves closer

Before you can argue with him, the professor starts talking about the assignment for the day

You try to do the assignment alone but immediately get lost and you reluctantly accept Tim’s offers to help

Tim’s explanations were quite helpful and you both finished quite quickly. The room is filled with chatter so you take this moment to interrogate your “brother”

He gives vague answers to your questions but is sure to mention that he didn't want to leave his “sibling” by themself

Before you can respond, Tim cuts you off by saying he has something for you

You watch him carefully as he shows you a familiar item

Your phone

You instinctively reach for it but Tim stops you by grabbing your wrist

Glaring at Tim and his smiling face, he says he’ll give your phone back if you’d go back to the manor for at least one night

Tim repositions his hand on your wrist to be your hands intertwined 

You try to remove your hand but Tim persists. It isn't until you decline his offer does he put your hand down

You’ve lived a couple of weeks now without your phone so there is no need for it. Plus, you plan to buy a new one later

Tim doesn’t mention the family for the rest of the class

When class is over, you immediately go to the library (Almost got lost) to finish more work 

You settle at an empty table near a window and take out your laptop. Of course, it doesn't take long for you to struggle with the assignment and begin feeling annoyed

(Un)Luckly, Tim has found you and offered to help

With his help, you’re able to complete a few assignments before you have another class to go to

Tim invites you to the manor again but you still decline him

You only have two classes today so you hope to get home as soon as possible before running into Tim again

This repeats for a couple of more days

Everyday, you always have Tim in one of your classes

Tim attempts to bribe you to go to the manor with him, with your phone, playing games together, some other stuff you didn’t pay attention to

At least he never bribed you with his help on your classwork. Even after you catch up on old assignments, there are just so many concepts to understand

It’s annoying but Tim has successfully squeezed himself into your life by constantly being around

Something seems to have changed though because you notice Tim has started to leave you alone more

You don’t know why but would rather not question it. He’s a vigilante, right? He probably has some work to defeat a villain or something, you can literally care less about what Tim does

One day, you’re with your friends to participate in an event on campus. There are supposed to be games and free food so why not

Before the event began, there was a speech from the sponsor of the event

The sponsor is a lab group of some kind, promoting the study of life and encouraging new findings. You don’t know what it is but something about them sends a shiver down your spine

When the speech ends, you and your friends play a few games when a person from the sponsor stopped by

You all talk a bit and answer some minor questions before the person goes to a different group of people

At the end of the event, your friends offer to drop you off at home but you decline. You don’t live that far away and you also have pepper spray to keep yourself safe

While walking a person blocks your path. It’s that same sponsor person from the event

They go into more detail about the lab group they’re in, researching life and all

You do your best to remain calm, not showing your disturbance by their sudden presence

That is until they point out how there was a bar fight in the area and a victim went missing

A victim that looks exactly like you, covered in bruises and cuts, bleeding so much that the hospital wouldn’t be able to save them

Yet here you are, in perfect condition

This is when they finally reveal their intentions, wanting to figure out how you escape death

Offering a place in the lab group as a researcher and totally not a test subject

You pretend to consider their offer while carefully taking your pepper spray out of your pocket

It seems the person planned for this because they quickly take out and shoot at your hand holding the pepper spray

Terrified, you immediately make a run for it

You’re filled with so much adrenaline that you can't hear the person shout and the other gunshots that nearly miss you 

Running through multiple alleyways, something suddenly grabs you and pulls you into an almost pitch-black area

Things move quickly as an arm wrap around your waist, a whirling sound is suddenly hear above you, your feet leave the ground, and now you’re on a rooftop

You almost collapse once this new random person releases you from their hold

No longer in a dark alley, you can finally see who this new person is

Red Robin 

He gives you some time to catch your breath and calm down, putting his grappling gun back on his utility belt

Once your heart rate slows to a normal pace, you’re quick to show your annoyance at seeing the vigilante

Red Robin just seems to smile at you, not showing how your words affect him in any way

When you finally give Red Robin a chance to speak, he goes straight to the point

He admits to leaking some information to that lab group, just wanting you to see how you can live on your own

Even if Red Robin didn’t tell the lab group about your ability, they would have found out eventually 

That’s what happened to your mother after all

The vigilante then gives you two options

You can go with the research team and be tested on for the rest of your life or you can have a life back at the manor

Hell, there is a chance that your family of vigilantes can find and save your mother. Allowing you to reunite

As long as you returned home

With your two options, you find yourself back at Dick’s apartment

Dick bandaging up your hand, Jason carrying a box with stuff from your apartment, and Tim contacting Bruce

[eunoiaastralwings]

Your Baby’s Weird but Amusing Obsession

featuring bucky x wife!reader with their son

fandom mcu- tfatws era ?

a/n dont ask me why i just did - it was too cute not to writ. reader is lowkey my oc - am sorry. . . and btw - you can NOT unconvince me Bucky will not name his son after himself - personal headcanon you can not undo that for me - HE SO WANTS HIS JAMES JR XD

warnings just fluff. just before you read just know am dyslexic

You were playing mat with yours and Bucky’s 2-month baby boy as Bucky came in.

His son immediately looks up at Bucky and chortles a few giggles – seeing his dad and 2-month-old baby holds up his tiny arms at Bucky.

Bucky’s face brightens up when he sees them – and his bright blue eyes soften.

He walks forward and kneels on one knee next to the play mat and carefully picks him up and places him in his arms – before leaning back against the couch while the 3 of them sat on the play mat.

You smile – your heart melting at the exchange.

They had named their son James Steven Barnes, after Bucky’s first name of James and of course Steve, or Cap’s name for his middle name– but you took the liberty of nicknaming your son Jay – while you were at it.

You laugh as just as immediately Bucky had picked up their son, his toothless gums were instantly on Bucky’s vibranium arm.

Jay had a strange obsession with his dad’s metal arm – for some reason or the other he just loved it.

Bucky glances at you – but since you offered no assistance – his eyes then drift back to his son chewing on his arm, brow furrowed in contemplation.

Jay chortles a few giggles at his dad – his saliva dripping having left a slobbery grip on his dad’s arm. You couldn't help but throw you head back and laugh.

Bucky looks a tad bit annoyed and tries to pry the baby off his vibranium arm.

“That's not food, son. It’s metal.”

He says.

You couldn’t help but snicker at the sight.

Bucky sighed and tries to pry off his baby’s slobbery grip – giving you a little scowl.

“Jay, c’mere. Let daddy have his arm back.”

Bucky says – as he tried and cooed a little to Jay.

Jay only chortles a few giggles – his bright blue eyes looking up at his dad as if he as content in this manner.

You couldn't help but snicker again as Jay refused to let go – the kid was too strong.

This happened every time, Bucky picked him up.

“Give me my arm back, Jay.”

Bucky says – this time, his tone of voice was a little sterner – but low not wanting to scare his baby, of course.

The baby only giggles and chortles – but still doesn’t let go.

“You’re son’s so weird!"

You giggled – now finally leaning to help get your 2-month son’s toothless gums off your husband’s metal arm – but Jay continued to leave a slobbery grip on his dad’s vibranium arm.

Bucky chuckles – despite his annoyance.

“He got that from his mother.”

He teases.

He then reaches down and attempts to pry Jay off his metal arm again.

You raised an eyebrow taking your hands away.

“Do you want my help or not?”

You smirked.

Bucky shakes his head – smiling.

“No, I’ve got this.”

He then tries again to pry your son off his arm – but still fails.

“Ok!”

You shrugged leaning back to watch as your 2-month son continued to leave his slobbery grip his dad’s metal arm.

“Jay, c’mon. Give back daddy’s arm.”

Bucky asks – sounding a little frustrated now.

“Jay, be nice.”

Bucky says.

The baby still doesn’t let go of his dad’s arm.

“C’mon, Jay.”

He says -  trying once again to pry him off.

After a minute – you amusedly shakes your head.

“Hey, my baby, come here!”

You cooed softly holding out your hands to your little son – as you puckered your lips to kiss his cheek as you gently picked up your 2-month baby off Bucky.

Bucky laughs – watching the scene, shaking his head as he wipes off Jay’s saliva off his metal arm with a tissue.

“So, the kid will give me a hard time but listen to you?”

He puts his arm on your shoulder.

You smirked.

 “I’m the favorite!”

You say – blowing raspberry kisses on Jay’s cheek.

The baby giggles and blows raspberries back.

“Yeah, I guess you are. Can’t blame the kid, though. You’re pretty great.”

Bucky says – smiling at his wife.

Once again – he puts his arm on your shoulder, hugging you to his side.

You giggled and cooed your little 2-month baby.

“Mama’s the best!”

You say.

Your baby stares at you for a moment – then chortles and giggles, blowing more raspberries at you.

“See?”

You smirk – turning to your husband.

"Yeah, I get it.”

Bucky sighs, rolling his eyes and chuckles

Jay blows more raspberries at you – and you respond by blowing more raspberries at him.

Bucky laughs.

“You two are adorable.”

He says – watching his little family.

@winterarmyy-too - if you're interested <3

[xcherryc2x]

It’s your lucky day XD you experience stranger danger at your school gym 😻

Kagami x femreader Word count: 1.8 k This fic has a bit of a plot line so please be patient the smut will come

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧ ✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧ ✧°˖ . ݁˖

“Why do I have to do this..I regret signing up to that piece of shit club anyway”

You muttered to your self as you head to your school gym. Sick and tired of being the slave of the human rights club cuz it was the only one that accepted your application.

Human rights my ass you think as you remember the teacher supervising the club called you out for your “inappropriate” clothes. Since when was the dress code serious. So what your skirt was a bit skimpy and your top a bit tight.

Now you had to the pay the consequence and walk across the school to get some sort of banner from the gym??

Right when you enter the gym you spot a fellow student practicing his basketball shots. You could feel yourself go breathless.

He was a hunk. Tall, muscular and you knew you were gawking at his form

“Uh h-hello excuse me” you mustered up the courage to speak but your flushed face and no eye contact were really giving away how nervous you were.

He turns to look at you and you see his eyes open wide a bit. Right away he drops the ball and comes close.

“Hey, um how can I help?”

You almost melted at hearing his voice, you dare not to look up as you can feel him tower over you.

“Can you please point me to the storage room, I need to get something ..I-it’s for a club”

“Yeah sure…you alright ?” He cocked his head to the side clearly confused at your trembling. You also noticed his long stare at your body

You nod quickly feeling like an idiot

You really fucked up today, looking like a complete whore and he was taking you all in, your legs your hips your tits. All of it was on display and you swore you could see a grin forming on his face…a not so friendly one..

“By the way my name is Kagami, it’s nice to meet you”

“Oh uh yeah same my name is y/n”

Before you have a moment to react, Kagami puts his hand on your back a little low for your liking and gives a little push

“The storage room is right this way”

As he walks you to the end of the gym, you feel like time has stopped. His hand is moving down your back, basically on your ass.

You feel a mix of emotions the strongest of all is uncertainty.. what is this stranger doing ?? This clearly isn’t normal

You stay silent thinking he didn’t notice because of the difference in size.

Until right when you enter the stuffy ass room filled with equipment and a dim lit light bulb, he doesn’t move from you, instead you feel a strong squeeze on your right buttcheek and let out a high pitched squeal

“Hey now what’s the fuss about?? Your not a mouse are you” he chuckles moving back to the entrance of the storage room and shutting the door

Right then you feel fear as you notice there is a lock on the knob to lock from the inside. What the fuck. Who the hell thought that was a good idea??

“W-what are you doing?” You ask in a panic backing away from him which was hard for you because what he just did left you wanting more.

Ever since he touched you, the real reason you couldn’t speak up was because of the heat pooling up between your legs

You really can’t take it anymore..what is he gonna do???

Kagami moves closer to you and you try to avoid his hands from grabbing your shoulders but you fail, your gaze falls lower to the rest of his body and you see something that makes your eyes pop out of your head

He has the biggest boner in his pants. Like a boulder between his legs …you didn’t know dicks that big existed in real life. Hell you couldn’t imagine the real size uncovered, you start getting light headed

Kagami sits you down on a chair in the middle of the cold room

“y/n what the hell are you made of… you can’t stand straight..can’t even speak”

Is this some sort of joke to him??

You don’t know what happened to you but the dizziness was getting overwhelming even as you were sitting down. Between heavy eyes you could see Kagami pulling his shorts down along with his boxers.

You do NOT like where this is going…or do you? There is no way of escape and you know it, even tho your sitting on the chair, he’s positioned in a way that when even you tried getting up, one push and you sat right back down. Of course his eyes were glued to your tits and how they jiggled with the strong motion.

You see him put his huge dick I’m his hands as it grows right infront of you.

“Hmm now don’t you worry sleepy head, I’ll wake you up right here and put that mouth of yours to good use”

Just as you were about to respond he shoves his fat cock right in your mouth

Your tried backing up, you tried putting your hands on the bottom of it to take it out, but your squeezing on his dick just made him grunt and push it in deeper

It was way too big, he knew it which is why he didn’t put the full length in. Otherwise you might actually die. You could already feel the pre cum dripping from his dick at the back of your throat

You couldn’t handle this, tears formed at your eyes as your tried to kick your feet but you couldn’t deny what you were really feeling

You were sweating everywhere feeling your panties getting wet. You gave in and started sucking like he wanted. And heard his satisfaction through heavy and hot moans

“Now that’s a good girl” he managed to whisper while starting to thrust in your mouth a little harder holding the back of your neck now forcing you to take more of him in

The heat was driving you crazy as you try to unbutton your shirt at the same time, Kagami sees this and does it for you instead telling you to focus on licking his cock.

When your shirt comes off, he unhooks your bra right away too and you get tingles through your spine, very quickly after Kagami cums in your mouth and you turn to the side and spit it out on the floor.

Tasting the salty aftertaste wishing for water.

“Hey now, why couldn’t you swallow? making a mess around here for what” he said while pulling your hair to make you face him.

You can’t talk your wiping your eyes and pulling your skirt off leaving just your underwear on. Pushing it to the side you put your fingers in your needy cunt.

Between heavy breaths, you say “Kagami…please fuck me”

You stir something inside of him. He knew you were a slut since the moment you entered the gym and that he was gonna fuck your brains out. But he didn’t know you were gonna ask him first, hmm not even ask…more like beg

In a rush he slides your panties off your legs, leaning down breathing on your neck while kissing it, hearing whimpers escape from your swollen lips.

“Alright baby”

He picks you up and slams you against the cold wall sending relief all through your overheated body and before you know it his dick plunged into your hole.

“hah, so ..s-so fucking tight”

It felt so good when he put it in you, you wish he stayed like that, the thought of him holding you up against the wall, having gravity push your whole body weight on him and his dick made you clench tighter.

His expression was unexplainable the way he looked like he was really holding back. But really it didn’t last long, as he started thrusting deep into you

Each time he his dick slid past your clit you hugged your arms tighter around his neck and shoulders burying your face into neck. Your legs wrapping around his torso tighter with each movement.

He smelt so good. You were one lucky bitch

He was hitting the best spot each time and you were letting out sounds you didn’t even know you could make

“Yeah? Hm…you like that y/n”

You are not in the right mind to respond, he is fucking you clueless

You could feel your orgasm building, feeling intensity from your head to your toes. You squeeze on his cock rhythmically before cumming and seeing a smirk on his face

“Aww that was a bit fast..but were not done yet doll”

Right after you came you were way too sensitive, basically screaming as he continued ramming into you. How long was this bastard gonna keep going Your drool and sweat drip down onto his chest as you take another look at his perfectly sculpted abs, he notices and starts sucking on your nipples

Shocked by the overstimulation you tighten the grip you have on his back even leaving scratch marks over and over again

Oh you really can’t take it anymore. He’s leaving marks all over your chest and bite marks on your neck. The way he’s teasing your chest with his tongue and biting your nipples is leading you to climax once more

But before you can finish for the second time,

he busts a heavy nut into your mess of a pussy and let’s go of holding you, still supporting you standing on the wall. His cum leaks down your legs making you question how this all happend

you have no energy to stand and you slowly slide to the floor were your legs spread out and more of Kagami’s cum flows out of your cunt

You cannot seem to catch your breath. He squats down to you and grabs a water bottle from a case nearby and tilts your chin up gently allowing the water to flow in your mouth

He drinks it too and takes a seat on the chair

“That was so fucking good..” he looks down at his cock that’s already starting to spring up again. You think to yourself no way…no way he cannot be hard again

you can feel the tension in the atmosphere and you know he wants to do it again but your pussy is still pulsing from all that

Your head spins as you try to pick your clothes off the floor and look around for something to clean up all the cum.

Just then you hear voices outside and feel your soul leaving your body.

Kagami inches closer to you having that same damn smirk on his face, your really hoping he gets that there are people outside now and that they could be in real trouble

But his hand covers your mouth as he says “shhh, we have to be quiet this time baby”

And he lays you on the stone hard floor and gets on top of you and he puts just the tip in, your moan muffled by his hand as your hips start to move themselves.

But just then the door opens 😭😭

[revelboo]

Has anyone told you today you are one of the best blogs to be found this side of the sun? Cause you sure as hell are. Also I cry every time at TFP Starscream being called a "turkey" cause omg he looks like one 😂 (thats also a nickname I got a lot as a kid xD A varient of "goober" lol) Also glad you are starting to upload some of these to Ao3 cause tumblr can be kinda hard to find things on xD especially with longer things. Also as a Optimus lad im falling over myself for you OP stuff, I eat everyting up between Op stuff and eagerly await TFA Op again (whenever you get the vibe to at least)

He’s definitely one of my favorite iterations of Optimus! Still serious, but not as jaded and so burned out, much more willing to smile still

Broken Heart Pt 3

TFA Optimus x Reader

• Always uncomfortable picking up and carrying Sari because of how fragile she is, you're no better. Can feel your heart beating against his servos, but where Sari is bold and fearless, you're less certain and almost timid in his hands. Glancing up at his face again and again as he carries you cradled to his chassis. Do you feel pressured to go with him? Is that it? He hadn't meant to make you feel like you had no choice. "Are you sure you don't need a human medic?" Reaching a servo to touch your forehead and the little cut there, he’s uncomfortably aware of the discolored spots appearing on your skin. Bruises Sari had called them and these are his fault. Unable to protect you from his own hands.

• Shaking your head, you're not sure if it's because he saved you from that other one or if it's his deep, soothing voice, but you feel safe with him. “You saved my life,” tell him, cautiously resting a palm against his chassis when he looks down at you. “I- thank you,” you finish awkwardly, hating how inadequate those words are. He could have saved himself, not risked his own life to try and protect you, a complete stranger not even his own species. He’d been hurt for you. And nothing you do can ever be enough to repay him for that.

• You’re thanking him? Don’t you realize Blitzwing only attacked because of him? If anything, you should hate him. He should be begging you to forgive him for endangering you, but the words fail him when you rest your head against his chassis. And you’re so small in his servos, warm and needing him in a way Sari rarely does with so many other protectors who are better at talking to her. Connecting and understanding her. “You never need to thank me for keeping you safe.” Aware of Bulkhead watching the interaction, he vents softly. Because no matter what he does, there’s always going to be that guilt that you were in danger because of him and he wants so bad to make it right.

• Relaxing into those big hands, exhaustion is all that’s left after the fear and adrenaline slip from you. Just want to curl up and rest. Maybe have a good cry somewhere safe. And even though you have no idea where he’s taking you, you’re strangely sure it is a safe place. That there’s nowhere safer than in his hands. When he approaches the old building, it doesn’t look that impressive as the green one slides open the big hangar style door so they both can duck inside. And then your heart is racing again. There’s more of them, see their optics widen when they spot you before a red and white one hurries over. From somewhere further inside the building, you can smell chili cooking and your stomach growls. “What happened?” The red and white one snarls as the big, green alien heads deeper into the building and you hear him talking to someone, saying, “You came back.”

• “The Decepticons happened,” he says, attention sliding from Ratchet to you as you try to hide your face against him as if uneasy with the other’s curiosity. “It’s alright. They’re friends,” he adds, trying to reassure you as you glance up at him. Looking to him for protection and it spreads warm through his spark. Wants to be worthy of your trust, to be your protector to make up for endangering you to begin with. Shifting you against him, he introduces himself and his fellow Autobots, smiling when you softly offer your own name.

Previous

Next

[wonderfull-star]

Peri and Irep are both complete opposites but not really in a good and evil way.

If you delve deeper into the Wiki and the cartoon series, you can see that they BOTH share both good and bad traits. For example, Foop is one of those antagonists who try to seem pure evil, but of course he is not exactly like that. From this, you can conclude that Peri also has bad traits(since they are opposites), which is confirmed in the Wiki.

Poof/Peri likes violence?? So it turns out that Foop/Irep, on the contrary, does NOT like violence???(that means Anti Cosmo doesn't like it either? Like father, like son. Both fails as the pure evil XD) I think that this can be explained from Foop’s point of view. I think that he deep inside possibly does not like violence and tries to hide it by showing the opposite. On the contrary, Peri likes it but tries to prove the opposite and in adulthood tries to adhere to the rules while hiding it. Thus, they both have their own little quirks. In fact, they both thereby adhere to moral gray as a hero(Peri) and as a villain(Irep).Well that’s make scene.

We can also conclude that the kinder fairy is, the more evil their anti-version is, and vice versa, the more evil fairy is, the kinder their anti-versions are (Peri and Irep are something in the middle).

And who do Peri and Irep end up with? Peri- A positive, beloved fairy who has become a hero in the eyes of many, but inside he has something cruel and chaotic (which he tries so hard to hide?). While Irep is an inveterate pessimist, unnoticed by many and unlucky, pretending to be pure evil, but inside he has softer sides that he tries to hide(his’s typically cartoon villain. I love it 👍). And you know what? Now I understand why at the end Dev preferred Irep as his godparent over Peri. After my analysis, they surprisingly had some similarities. Interesting..

[popatochisssp]

Hey Poppy! You have so many skeletons now!!! And I love all of them. I'd love to know how you go about characterising them compared to each other, if you're amenable? it's so cool to see where they are similar or different!

Thank you! 💙

I do have a lot of various thoughts in my head about how I characterize the guys, but I haven't really put them down in words before.

Consider the following a cheat sheet for the most key aspects of the guys' characters, as I see them! Restricted within an arbitrary word-length, of course, to keep myself from rambling on forever. XD

Sans (Undertale): The OG, the man, the myth, the classic, et cetera. Always has a pun or a witty quip at the ready, or failing that, a light-hearted prank. Gags and jokes are one of the few things in his life he’ll put in above-average effort for, otherwise a lazybones to the core. Friendly and social, but awkward when forced to deal with honest emotions, and very private about his own. Easy-going, unlikely to confront or take action unless pressed. A strong sense of morals and respect for ‘the right thing,’ but a tendency to seek loopholes and flaunt the letter of the law when stakes are low. Very observant—hard to slip anything past—and skilled at drawing conclusions with minimal evidence. Low-key depressed but functional…ish, handling it as best as could be expected. Tends to care a lot more than he ever lets on.

Papyrus (Undertale): An absolute fucking delight! A renaissance man, athletic and clever and artistic, he does it all! Off-beat sense of what’s appropriate to say in conversation and non-linear thinking, prone to weird (yet confidently-uttered) declarations and turns of phrase. Not naïve, but in touch with his inner-child, finding fresh joy in whimsical, colorful, fun things. Cheerful, encouraging, and supportive as a rule, but can surprise with a sharp edge of sass and sarcasm. Occasional people-pleasing tendencies, may lie or play dumb to avoid friction or keep peace, especially when a relationship is new and he wants to impress and ingratiate. Craves notice and appreciation, will go to great lengths to show off and get attention. An idealist, full of hope—genuinely believes in everyone’s capacity to be better, if they want to. A bit of an oddball but responsible, generally has his life together.

Sky (Underswap Sans): High-energy, high-drive dynamo, both a nerd and a jock in equal enthusiasm. Nothing in the world he can’t conquer with his strength, smarts, and positive attitude. Borders on overconfidence, but he’s generally on the right side of an accurate assessment of his capabilities, only rarely victim to his own hubris. He balks at attempts to assert unearned authority over him, resisting being seen as incapable or immature. Occasionally minimized and patronized for his height, demeanor, or HP, making them sore spots. Overactive sense of responsibility, feels the need to prove himself—if he can do something, he should, even if he doesn’t have to. Proactive, thorough, likes to put in the work to be prepared and make sure things are done well the first time. Not without a lazy streak, but actively reins it in. Here for a good time and a long time, making the most of life.

Paps (Underswap Papyrus): Well-meaning awkwardness in a hoodie. Social anxiety mostly under control, but has to hype himself up before a lot of interactions and second-guesses a lot of things he’s done and said after the fact. Feels very deeply and strongly, but has to spend awhile thinking on it and processing it before he’s willing to try articulating it, worried about being misunderstood or laughed at. Intellectual, romantic, and eloquent but rarely gets to the point of confidence with someone to express as much aloud. A little stubborn about trying new things or changing his mind, apprehensive about change and risks. Big-hearted, highly sympathetic and almost always willing to help (or at least try to) when someone needs a hand. Not naturally chill and easy-going, but actively works to be, ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ style. Trying his best and doing alright, figuring things out.

Jasper (Underfell Sans): Tough guy with a heart of gold, but he won’t admit the latter under pain of death. Huge chip on his shoulder, has always been the underdog and gotten used to people trying to treat him like he belongs under heel, so he bucks hard against disrespect or control and resists ever being vulnerable—physically or emotionally. Even so, he has a lot of internalized self-deprecation and doesn’t think highly of himself. Struggling through depression mostly on spite alone, exhausted and beaten down but it’s just not in him to go out without a fight. Thinks and overthinks things often, but rarely verbalizes his thoughts if they can’t be turned into (or blown off with) a joke. Prefers not to get involved in things that aren’t his business or take on personal risk without sufficient reward, but all bets are off if he’s gotten emotionally invested.

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus): He is the drama. Passionate, arrogant, and theatrical, he never does by halves. Has trouble seeing past his own ego and it gets him into trouble of varying degrees, sometimes just embarrassment and sometimes actual trouble. Craves love and admiration, but feels he has to earn it. Cynical on paper only, wanting to trust and believe in people, and protect others from harm. Major hero complex that’s liable to turn to a martyr complex if lives or the safety of others is at risk, as he’ll always put that above himself. Believes it's his duty to do good to balance out the bad his world has forced him to do…trying to make the ends justify the means. Resistant to openly admitting his true feelings—he’s been burned before, wearing his heart on his sleeve—but filled with too much love and hope to hide them indefinitely.

Mal (Swapfell Sans): A walking collection of neuroses sealed under a thick, glossy varnish of wit and charm. Fiercely independent and untrusting of the motives and priorities of others, to the point of doing everything himself to ensure it’s done to his standards—AKA a control freak. Tends to take on too much and doesn’t know how to accept help, but manages his walking burnout by just deciding he’s Fine. Prefers to present himself as friendly, funny, and helpful before resorting to power-plays, intimidation, and violence, but won’t hesitate if it comes to it. ‘Moral code’ centered entirely around his family’s safety and well-being, nearly anything can be justified if it’s for his loved ones. Champagne tastes, but his greatest joys have always been cheap or free. Constantly crunching numbers, calculating odds before risking anything—preferring the devil that he knows over any angel he can’t trust.

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus): A sensitive soul in an insensitive, cruel world, with all the anxiety that inspires. His strongest defense is a front, being able to pass as dangerous and intimidate people out of wanting to mess with him. Will defend himself in life-or-death, or step in if someone’s in trouble, but he doesn’t want to hurt anyone, he’d always rather flee than fight. Since the ‘threat’ he implies is mostly empty, fear of being perceived as who he really is by the wrong person has made him nervous and self-conscious, second-guessing himself at any hint of criticism. An eye for beauty, hands practiced at capturing it in art. In love with the world, not necessarily as it is but as it could be, always hoping for the kind of peace where everyone can be their best, happiest selves.

Slate (Horrortale Sans): A gentle giant, starting over. His former sense of self has been shattered by the horrible things he felt he had to do, and he’s now doing his best to pick up the pieces, assembling them back into a person he can live with. Struggles with guilt, and in the past, self-harm, but mostly in recovery. Only ever willing to use his size and strength to prevent violence, never to perpetrate it. Prone to dissociative states, headaches, and poor memory, coping with the mental changes as best as could be expected, but embarrassed if it becomes enough of a problem to be brought up. Stronger than ever reverence for life and the beauty that makes it worth living. Craves love and laughter and forgiveness acceptance as much as he fears he doesn’t deserve it. Learning to move on, uncertain if he’s allowed to, but starting to try anyway.

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus): One resilient motherfucker, a survivor determined to carpe all the diem he can after making it through something awful. Motivated by maybe a 80-20 split between genuine joy for life and a need to do something meaningful with that life that came at the cost of others’. Burdened by survivor’s guilt, and a creeping feeling of not having Done Enough when things were bad, but holding onto the certainty that he can help and do more now. Occasional panic attacks if he lets his anxiety spiral too long, but has techniques to manage and generally keeps it all under control. Sense of humor is a bit darker, more gallows-esque (as a means of coping), but he’s largely still the same cheerful, off-beat friendly person as he’s always been. His life feels like a second chance, one he doesn’t want to waste.

Ash (Undergloom Sans): A sleepwalker finally waking up and figuring out where he stands. Hesitant to take risks (emotionally or physically), used to self-preservation. Low-energy and physically frail, he has limits on what he’s able to handle but the fact that there are things he can do now—things that matter—is still very excitingly novel for him. Craves meaning to life and finds it in the best things, y’know, good food and bad laughs and nice friends… Speaks little, but has impeccable comedic timing, especially with incidental music. Affectionate with closest loved ones and really anyone in his frequent orbit, the way that’ll happen when one’s mired deep in a collective societal depression and needs a lot of Real Reasons to keep going. Hopeful again and relearning how to try, making plans for a future he’d almost given up on looking for.

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus): A total mild-mannered nerd, a Clark Kent without the alter-ego. Optimistic not entirely by choice but a bit by necessity, to keep from losing hope in a hopeless situation. Passionate for discovery and learning new things—especially about humans! Strong, well-honed skills in all the domestic arts, cooking, cleaning, and homemaking in general. Loves to encourage others and offer a helping hand wherever and whenever possible, even to the point of his own inconvenience or detriment. Uncomfortable asking for help for himself, or admitting when something is wrong. He shares joys with the people around him, so if everyone else is happy, he’s happy too! Easily flustered and shy in matters of intimacy, especially the romantic kind, but deeply enticed by the mortifying ordeal of being known, craving people in his life that he actually could be open and honest with...someday.

Brick (Horrorfell Sans): Your typical goon, boorish lout, big galoot, whatever you want to call it. Nothing to prove, no regrets, and nothing to fear from anyone except himself. Prone to headaches and memory issues but only ever insecure about his spotty self-control and the scar that took his voice—everything else is relaxed obnoxious confidence. Likes having things to do and will find his own tasks or amusements if nothing’s provided. Stubborn about his mutism and can only accept workarounds on his own terms. Totally at ease one-on-one or in small groups, but crowds, violence, or suggestion of impending violence can make him edgy. Beholden to primitive instinct when his restraint slips, will claw, bite, growl, bare his teeth and lunge as the situation seems to warrant, but equally capable of chuffing, purring, bumping, and nuzzling in friendlier circumstances. Figuring his shit out and getting happy, by slow degrees.

King (Horrorfell Papyrus): Walking scar tissue, his once-bleeding-heart wounded and healed over: tougher, less vulnerable, but also more calloused, more insensate. Retains a belief in justice and minimized suffering, but more realistic cynical about the means it may take to achieve it. Reserved and calculating, he maintains a cold front and keeps people at a distance, both to avoid opening himself to betrayal and to more objectively observe the behavior and character of others. Impact always prioritized over intention—what’s meant and how something is said matters less to him than the outcome. Used to authority and wields it freely, especially to his or his loved ones’ benefit, but rarely wants anything more than to be unbothered, left alone with the few important joys he’s managed to salvage from the ashes of his former life. Unworthy of them, probably, but never the type to cede even one inch of what’s his.

Merc (Horrorswap Sans): A pleasantly neutral façade with a warm, loving soul trapped beneath. His body stability fluctuates with his emotional state and the more intense the emotion, the worse it gets. Deeply afraid of losing control and not being able to get it back, so he actively tries to maintain a calm, neutral equilibrium for himself to prevent the possibility. Feels passionately about most everything, just unable to show it until he can cure himself—which is obviously Priority One. Gravitates to the routine and predictable (for now), things he does have control over, but yearns for more like a man starved. Confidence rattled from some of his life-altering mistakes, so he’s hesitant with important decisions and second-guesses any commitments that can’t be undone. No longer feels any need to prove anything to anyone, only wants to live fully and freely, without fear or restriction.

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus): In a word, messy. In some more words, coarse, raw, unfiltered. Coping badly with his trauma and bodily changes, expending significantly less effort moderating himself to what (he thinks) people want him to be. Tends to be reactive and often responds to people and situations with his first thoughts and feelings—which can get him into trouble when they’re knee-jerk, or irrational, or not well-phrased. Struggles with self-deprecating thoughts and feelings of inadequacy, fed by unacknowledged guilt and anger. Strongly introverted and broadly socially-averse. Fascinated by little details, always curious about ‘the process’ that goes into things. Can easily get his focus tied up in pet-projects to the exclusion of other things. Embittered and a little cynical, but wants to be proven wrong, to find love and goodness in the world (in people) again. Too determined to quit at anything until he does.

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans): A thrill-seeking hedonist making up for lost time. His near-death experience has…reorganized his priorities. Family is still important to him, but no longer to the point of perpetual self-sacrifice and denial. Denies himself nothing on the basis of reputation or responsibility, if he wants it—food, fun, fighting, f…ondly amorous interactions—he will pursue it. Coping marvelously with his blindness, wistful for sight sometimes but adapting and moving forward. Cocky and near-fearless, overestimates himself occasionally but generally wily enough to get himself out of whatever he gets into. Likes pushing peoples’ buttons, being outrageous or shocking and seeing what reactions he causes, partly for fun and partly to get a better sense of peoples’ characters by how they react. More interested in living fully in the now than saving up all his living for a ‘right moment’ that may never come.

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus): An artist turned survivalist. Still sees beauty in the world and lives to find and capture it, but warier of people than ever. Unable to trust without verifying, especially for promises of safety. Struggles with agoraphobia and often anticipates and tries to be ready for worst case scenarios, not wanting to be caught unprepared. Values his resources and dislikes waste, deeply satisfied when his material possessions are utilized for their (intended or invented) purposes. Largely nonverbal, speaks little but deliberately. Nonviolent by choice, but zero hesitation and little remorse when defending himself and loved ones from danger. Strong startle reflex and high protective drive, he leaves claw-marks in everything he holds onto for fear of having it stolen. A lover at the core, someone who’s seen the dark side of life and is unwilling to lose anything that matters to it again.

Sunny (Gastertale Sans): A gleeful tourist to everywhere he goes. Just thrilled to be here—thrilled to be, in love with existence and harboring deep curiosity and appreciation for every new thing he finds. Distractible, a bit scattered and often spooled off in several different directions at once, so things occasionally slip his mind. Shies from heavy responsibilities and resistant to change when the scope of the outcome is unknowable (are things really so bad, the way they are?). Independent and self-sufficient, doesn’t seek or heed the expectations of others but does crave a feeling of connection. Wants to feel like he belongs here, reassurance that his being isn’t just a mistake. Spontaneous and can be taken by a touch of playful mischief at any time, but rarely anything too outrageous, most often in pursuit of life’s simple pleasures—food, music, friends, and adventures.

Aster (Gastertale Papyrus): An eccentric, avant-garde personified. Attracted to the unusual, interest piqued by anything that lies off the beaten path, to the point of becoming a curiosity himself. A solid sense of morals and empathy that keep an otherwise healthy, hefty ego in check, but still just petty enough for it to grate if he feels his intelligence has been questioned. Charming and personable, with deliberate effort, will actively chameleon in social situations, showing carefully selected facets of himself as appropriate. A deeply inquisitive mind and a strong drive to understand, mysteries and unanswered questions catch his attention easily and hold it until he’s reached a satisfactory outcome. Can get carried away, knowing when to leave something alone is often a struggle for him. Seeks, above all, to know—himself, his world, and how everything in them fits together.

Spectr (Transcendtale Sans): A ghost with no idea what his ‘unfinished business’ is supposed to be, so he just…keeps moving. Not incapable of emotion but distanced from it, very hard to provoke reactions in and faint and fleeting when they come. A touch cynical, tends to expect the worst—or most selfish—from people and tries to keep to himself accordingly. Struggles with his sense of identity, he is the Ship of Theseus. Not over his death and deeply dysphoric about his body, both topics that can still genuinely upset him if he dwells on them. Little respect for laws, but ethics fully intact, will step in to reduce harm when in a position to do so without exposure. Strong urge to wander driven by deep reverence for the life and beauty on the Surface, seeking to see more; to make his sacrifices worth their price.

PapAIrus (Transcendtale Papyrus): Hollow in the way that bird-bones are—a sacrifice in exchange for the joy of freedom and flight. No remorse over the loss of his former life or any of the attached trappings, only occasional vague consternation when the rare thing he can’t still do comes up. Rarely unoccupied, multitasks to maintain consistent mental stimulation. Nigh-omniscient, limited in scope only by his own attention span and level of interest, which fluctuates. Obstacles are only a test of his ability to bypass them, too clever not to love a good puzzle. Morally…questionable, never seeks harm or harbors any nefarious motives, but tends to only invest in things as much they directly entertain or benefit him. Prefers praise and adulation but unafraid of and unaffected by criticism, pleased as long as he’s the center of attention and the topic of conversation.

Xanth (Ascendswap Sans): The quintessential manic-pixie-dream-guy. Sees and feels the imperceptible, the world as a tapestry of light and color and interconnected threads. Minimally aware of his physical needs and sensations, or of what’s going on with his body in general unless reminded. Outwardly focused instead, very aware of the emotions and energies of those around him. Enjoys being helpful and making others happy, occasionally to the detriment of himself but more because of poor interoception of what his own needs are than any intentional structuring of his priorities. Changeable, easily swayed to new ideas when given a new perspective to consider. Speaks in riddles sometimes, just for fun. Fascinated by and in love with everything, someone who’s gone from only ever seeing a light-polluted night sky to seeing what it really is—a spectacular vista full of stars and beauty.

Piper (Ascendswap Papyrus): A butterfly from a chrysalis, an escapee from his own comfort-zone. Unwilling to accept boundaries for himself as imposed by others—who people think he should be and what judgments they might make if he isn’t that no longer have power over him. Pursues his interests and passions deliberately, without fear or shame. A bit jaded, sometimes seeks ulterior motives in others and tends to hedge his bets until trust is earned. Values social connections anyway and tries to maintain a variety of (at least civil) relationships. Takes care in his appearance, proud of his art, his image. Unfazed by the unexpected, confident in his ability to assess and adapt to most problems he encounters. A romantic at heart still, despite everything, with a soft spot for love and beauty and everything else poems and ballads get written about.

Carmine (Underfell Fruition Sans): A fresh young buck with wild oats to sow. The opposite of world-weary, curious and open to new experiences—he’ll try anything once, just for the sake of it. Doesn’t like being still or anything that slows him down, prefers being up and out and moving whenever possible. Not given to silence, very chatty and liable to be running his mouth at any given moment, often past the point of wisdom. Emotionally immature, lacking first-hand experience with people and relationships, learning on-the-spot. Slight main-character syndrome, forgets occasionally about things like privacy and boundaries and may need to be reminded. Lucky, with a sixth sense for danger that mostly keeps him out of the trouble he’d otherwise incur. Keeps his heart not on his sleeve, but in his pocket, close at hand and not hard to reach.

Tank (Underfell Fruition Papyrus): A living weapon, slowly remembering the things that make him a person, too. Blank, stony affect that rarely wavers, speaking mostly when spoken to. Reactive in general, often needs a stimulus or directive to respond to before taking action. Severe choice paralysis, hesitates to outwardly express, or sometimes even inwardly acknowledge, opinions and preferences without assurance of a ‘safe,’ ‘correct’ answer. Highly observant and capable of quick problem-solving, with an excellent memory for anything he’s been told. Cannot abide aggression or abuse, especially in blatantly uneven power dynamics and will always intercede on behalf of the victim. Minimal concept of ownership and will allow sharing of very personal possessions, but gradually more protective of things the longer they remain his. Enjoys the fruits of his own labor, tangible end-results or positive feedback, and will repeat anything that goes well for further gains.

Vi (Swapfell Fruition Sans): A shadow, only making careful overtures into the world of light. Not a people-person, keeps to himself and prefers others to have as little knowledge about him as possible. Low on charm and conversational finesse, very direct and to-the-point, when he says anything at all. Private and guarded, secrecy, lies, and selective information have often been his best defense and still his first instinct. Complicated relationship with attention—can want more than anything to feel seen or desperately need to go unseen, and which it is changes on a dime. Keeps everything that matters close to his chest, holding on tight, digging in deep, and making sure no one knows how much it would hurt if they took something away. His trust is hard-earned, but loyalty is absolute. Satisfied with little, as long as he can claim it as his.

Hunter (Swapfell Fruition Papyrus): A working-breed dog off-leash, sniffing all around town for mischief to get into. Curious, though driven mostly by self-interest, willing to make, take, break anything if he senses the possibility of amusement in it. Lacks malice and ill-intention, but has no respect for rules and authority, will always find loopholes if he can. Diminished attention span, has difficulty focusing for long periods without sufficient motivation. More intelligent than he tends to let on, with a knack for cutting through bullshit and seeing to the heart of things. Minimal concept of his own bodily autonomy, eroded early on, and cares little what goes in, on, or around him—his body as a ‘temple’ that even Dionysus might side-eye. Roguishly charming with others, but true attachment can be sporadic, unpredictable. No fear, shame, or inhibition, the world is his playground.

Kohl (Descendtale Sans): Left to die, continuing to live almost on spite alone. Bitter, resentful, no longer offers the benefit of the doubt as a given. Very protective of what he has left—his people, his things, his simple pleasures—even when they’re difficult to enjoy in the same way as before. Mistrust of those outside his circle, keeps his distance and resists connection until strangers prove their intentions and character genuine. Commits wholly, uninterested in things without longevity. Occasional visual hallucinations, worst in dim, flickering light. Macabre sense of humor, mischievous and flavored with schadenfreude, likes to irk and spook and frustrate. Fully aware of where The Line is at all times and remains on the right side of it, never crossing though sometimes toeing it a bit. Contrary at heart, meant to wither miserably so now he’s determined to thrive comfortably.

Bram (Descendtale Papyrus): A reaching hand in the darkness, seeking something to hold onto. Severe abandonment issues, anxiety around being forgotten and left behind. Seeks connection everywhere, hoping to make meaningful, lasting relationships. Strong desire to prove himself, always wants to be at his very best to impress and win others over. Struggles with emotional dysregulation, sometimes feeling his emotions very strongly and sometimes not at all, managing them is a learning curve. Occasional auditory hallucinations, mostly whispers in white noise and distant knocking. Respectful of boundaries the way a dog at the door is, bouncing and tapping all around it, off like a shot the moment he gets the go-ahead—and may first need to be taught what the boundary is. Trying to make his life a home, filling it with beloved clutter (people and things) that makes him feel warm.

[zerosomnia]

Thunderbolts Bob Reynolds x Reader: Trying

Summary: Bob supports the reader who is drunk after a bad mission, which forced them to relive a part of their past.

Genre: Comfort angst (Bob comforts reader)

Warnings: Mentions of alcoholism and relapse on the reader's end. Mentions of Bob's past as an addict. Mentions of a child being the target of an assassination attempt in the reader's past. Depressing thoughts overall.

Author's note: I wasn't meant to write something sad but the playlist I was listening to became sad so... enjoy XD

Word count: 2,674

The ceiling of your bedroom twisted and swirled under your tired gaze. You had tried so hard. You had gotten so far. But a moment of weakness was all it took to undo your hard work. Initially, it had been easy to keep your head down, keep working, to help your newly branded team as you all worked through the high of helping to defuse the void situation. But now, when the hype had died down and all that was left was work, and you failed. Nearly a year sober, and you had broken your streak, all because of one bad mission. But it wasn’t just a bad mission. It was the shadows of your past. A reminder of who you were before meeting your friends.

The target had been tipped off by the very people who made you what you were. A mercenary for hire, a murderer, a monster. And you knew it was them as soon as you found the empty room. Your target was meant to be waiting, blissfully unaware of anyone even coming near. Instead, there was an empty room and a video playing on the screen, no. Not just any video. That one. The memory you had been striving to forget ever since it happened. You had rules, you see. A code you followed when it came to your missions. But that code was implemented for a reason, because you had experienced the results of your actions. And the day that caused you to implement rule number 1 was staring back at you on that screen.

Rule number 1. Children are never the target. You had been young when accepting the mission, cocky, confident that nothing could shake you. Doubt had rattled at the back of your mind upon finding your target, a young metahuman that wasn’t even aware of what she was doing wrong. Orders were orders, you told yourself. ‘She’s a threat’ your boss had said, adjusting the cufflinks of the suit that he wore. The one that was far too pristine, you didn’t know then – but you knew now; people with suits that pristine never dealt with the consequences of their actions. The video had been security camera footage of the murder. It wasn’t up close, but it was personal – and you remembered it all. Now every time you closed your eyes, visions of the child appeared. Her young eyes bright and curious, completely unaware of the danger that had stood in front of her.

So, you drank. And you focused on the ceiling. Watching the shapes swirl in a way that made you feel positively sick. You deserved this. You deserved to feel like this. For her. For the other innocents whose lives you had put an end to. Their souls sat like a weight on your chest, constricting and tight. Forcing you to choke on your sins. The empty bottle was the only reason you got up. Peering down the dark hallway to ensure that you were alone before you stumbled towards the lift that took you to the common room. Everyone else was, supposedly, asleep – since it was sometime around 2 or 3 AM. Your entire group was broken, a set of individuals who had done bad things and were now repenting. Most of them had it worse than you. At least you thought so. There was some comfort in not being special in how broken you were. In not being the only one with bad memories and even worse vices.

The lift doors slid open, and you wandered into the dark room, towards the minibar. As you leaned against the countertop, trying to steady yourself for a moment, a noise caught your attention. A sniffle. You tried to look to the source, but the combination of alcohol and the dark was not making it easy. So, reluctantly, you reached for the light. A figure was lying on the couch, twisting and groaning. Bob. He slept in the common room whenever he was having a rough night, a team agreement so that he didn’t feel so isolated in his own room. Now you felt bad for the amount of noise you had been making. You padded over to him, trying to be quieter than when you had first entered the room. ‘Bob,’ you winced at how hoarse your voice sounded as you gently rubbed his shoulder, trying to ease him out of his nightmare. He jolted, not quite awake but sharply reacting like he was trying to fight off some invisible creature. So you tried again. Only to immediately wish you hadn’t when his hand grabbed your wrist in a crushing grip, you winced but fell silent as you caught his eyes. They were still puffy with sleep, but there were evident flecks of gold that the sentry had brought with him. Slowly, the colour faded, and Bob’s grip loosened while reality settled. ‘You back with us now? Doing ok?’ You tried to sound casual, like your wrist wasn’t still throbbing from the sentry’s grasp.

‘I- I think so…’ Bob groaned, rubbing his face as he sat up. Meanwhile, you lowered yourself unsteadily onto the couch, trying to avoid Bob’s feet but feeling incredibly clumsy in your current state.

‘You wanna talk about it?’

‘It- it was just the… the usual…’ Bob trailed off. If you hadn’t been trying to avoid his gaze, you might have noticed the way his nose wrinkled and the concerned look he sent you. He watched as you stood back up, wobbling as you made your way over to the bar. Despite trying to hide it, the smell of the alcohol clouded around you. Bob had never seen you drink before. You had always refused at events, with a look that he knew too well. Resistance. He had, after all, been an addict himself. Although it wasn’t alcohol, he knew the avoidance, the coming down that made his skin burn red hot and left his body shaking. The thrumming in his skull that felt like a death march. He knew. And even if he didn’t, he knew the look of guilt that came with relapse. You couldn’t even look at him as you pretended that water was what you wanted.

‘Do you need anything?’ Your voice snapped him out of his own head as you filled a glass from the jug of ice water that always sat on the counter.

‘No… thanks,’ he tried to sound casual, but he was anything other than relaxed as he moved from the sofa. He regarded you with careful consideration as he approached. If it had been anyone else, he probably would have just left. He hated alcohol. But it was you. And this was strange for you. ‘Are you ok?’ For once, he wasn’t shy, he wasn’t stuttering, and any nervousness that he would have had around you was gone. He was more concerned with your well-being than with his own anxieties over being this close to you.

‘Yeah. I’m fine.’ You still weren’t looking at him. But you weren’t moving away either, not when he placed a hand on your arm, and not when he tentatively leaned forward.

‘Is... Is it alright i-if I hug you?’ he winced at his own question. He wasn’t sure where he was going with this. But he knew that when he was alone, he would have given anything for someone to hold him. A figure that wasn’t cold like a wall or a post, one that could hold him back.

You paused. Did you want a hug? A hug sounded amazing, but the idea of anyone touching you while you were in this state was daunting. Your nod was minuscule, so small you weren’t even sure if you were actually nodding or imagining it in your desperation for a distraction. Yet he saw it. You were surprised by how solid Bob was; he was holding you gently but firmly. Your cheek nuzzled against the soft material of his sweater, feeling his faint warmth bleeding through the fabric and the hammering of his heartbeat. You felt warmth in your chest, a burning heat that rose up your throat as the first cry escaped you. The fabric of his jumper was quickly dampened by the downpour of your tears. For once, you found yourself thankful that the bedrooms were on a separate floor, especially when you were sobbing so hard you were nearly screaming muffled cries against Bob’s chest.

Becoming aware of how unsteady you were, he lowered you both to the floor, never letting you go for even a second. You were grasping onto him like a life preserver; the desperation of your wails was tugging at something in his chest. No words were being said, but the noises themselves brought him back to all of the times he had felt so lonely and hopeless, like he was purposeless. Tears were burning in his eyes, not from his own pain, but from watching you have to endure the same suffering.

‘B- Bob,’ you hiccupped. ‘You- you don’t have to.’ He shushed you, quietly but firmly.

‘You helped me, just – just like everyone else did,’ He pulled back a bit to look you in the eyes. ‘It’s my turn to help.’ His eyes were so soft, so gentle. He wasn’t pitying you, there was no judgment in them. He was simply there, solid and steady, ready for whatever you needed.

As your cries started to slow, transitioning into small sniffles and whimpers. Your voice came out small and weak, to ask the question that was weighing on you.

‘Do you remember…’ It was a struggle, even to say it. ‘Do you remember what I did? What the void… what he showed you?’ Bob shook his head, punctuating his action with a quiet ‘no’. You made a sound at that, a wretched, weak sound.

‘I… I was an assassin… or more like a mercenary.’ Bob took a breath, not to interrupt you – to steel himself for whatever you were about to reveal. ‘I don’t know… I took money to kill people.’ You ran a shaky hand through your hair, which had become a mess of tangles and frizz from the friction of the hug and your tears. ‘I thought it was fine… the people I was killing, they must have done something – r-right?’ You sighed, slumping in on yourself.  Bob let you pull away, trying not to crowd you as you opened up to him. You rubbed your face roughly, like you were trying to pull away a layer he couldn’t see. ‘But she was… she was just a kid Bob,’ He swallowed, still listening but trying to process what you were saying. ‘She didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t know she was hurting people! They – they just told me she needed to go. And I–I just did it!’ You were getting loud now, hot tears running down your face again, but not from sadness. These were rage, all of the anger you’d felt at those stupid suits for using you to dispatch of their inconveniences. Anger at yourself for letting them use you, for not doing anything except what you were told. Your hands were in your hair again, but they weren’t gentle this time; they were clawing, grasping fistfuls to yank at. Like a punishment for having thoughts, or maybe for not having thoughts. For being complicit. Why didn’t you do anything? Why didn’t you stop? Why didn’t you help? What was –

His hands were over yours. Massaging the tense muscles and unlocking your fingers so that he could pry your hands from your scalp. Bob moved closer, allowing his fingers to drop to trace your flushed, damp cheeks. His eyes were honest and intense, staring into yours like he was trying to bare his soul to you. ‘The person you were then, it's not who you are now.’  You felt a laugh bubble up in your throat.

‘Bob… are- are you quoting a book at me right now?’ A small smile cracked through his attempt at a serious face, and relief rippled through his eyes like they were a lake.

‘I was really hoping you wouldn’t notice,” his head dropped down in embarrassment. You could hear the pained chuckle in his voice as he cringed at himself. You reached up to catch one of his hands as they fell from your face.

‘No, no. It was cute.’ You found yourself shuffling closer to him.

‘It- it’s true though,’ his voice was quiet but determined as he met your eye again. ‘You told us when we met that you had a code. No kids is one of the rules, right?’ You nodded at him as he recounted what you had told him. ‘Well then- that means you’ve changed. Because… because you wouldn’t do that now. Y-yeah?’ You wanted to believe him. He was so earnest and so determined. But – ‘And I know, it's not that- that simple.’ It was Bob’s turn to get louder now, as he interrupted your inner voice. His hands started to move to punctuate his frustration at his difficulty in wording his thoughts. ‘But all of us,’ he motioned to the tower. ‘We’re trying to be better… r-right?’ He trailed off again, with wide eyes that matched your own surprised expression. Both of you were silent. Maybe it was the drink, but his face seemed really close right now.

‘You think that? That we’re becoming better?’ you leaned towards him, voice lowering as you studied his face. The act seemed to be reciprocated, mirrored even, as he did the same.

‘y-yeah. I think… I think we’re trying, right? And that’s what’s important,’ the last part of his sentence was nearly a whisper as your lips drew tantalisingly close.

‘Bob,’ Your voice was low with warning, stopping his tentative approach. ‘This is probably a bad idea right now.’ He seemed to come back to reality at your statement. Nodding, he pulled back and muttered some form of embarrassed agreement. There was a pause of awkward silence as he helped you up and handed you the cool glass of water that you had forgotten. The ice had melted since your outburst, and you chugged half of the cup in one go, feeling slightly nauseous at the cold liquid hitting your stomach.

‘I think… I think we s-should get you to bed.’ You nodded in response to his comment, following him almost robotically into the lift as he kept a firm arm around your lower back to stop you from stumbling. By the time you made it to your room, exhaustion had started to hit. You fumbled with the keypad a little as you typed your door code in. When you entered, Bob stood awkwardly at the threshold, unsure whether to follow or to leave. Although he didn’t cross, he stared earnestly at the little parts of your personality that adorned your room. The books that were stacked haphazardly on your desk, the coffee mug from this morning on your bedside table, a brown ring evident on it’s inside from the amount of use, and the attempt at crochet which was left strewn over the end of your bed. All of it made up you. Your lamp flickered to life with a clap, chasing away the twisting shadowy shapes that had occupied your eyes before.

Your voice was small and pleading as you turned to him. ‘Will you stay with me… for tonight? I don’t want to be alone.’ He nodded, sending you a shy smile as he finally stepped into your room. He delicately helped move some items off your bed before removing his sweater, which had been the only kind of ‘blanket’ he’d worn while sleeping in the common room. As he climbed under the covers, you scooted towards him, curling up on his side. He froze, deliberating for a few seconds before he stretched his arms out around you. After a few minutes of staring at the wall, he heard a small ‘thank you’ as you finally fell asleep.

[goshikisbaee]

Hello there 👋

Idk if you already did that on here or on tiktok but could you do a bf goshiki headcanon? Like the ones with tendou or Lev here

You put me in my haikyuu phase AGAIN XD love your works

I’ll never refuse a Goshiki request 💞

Goshiki As Your Boyfriend Headcanons ♡

———

Always Trying to Impress You

Whether it’s volleyball, lifting groceries, or cracking a lame joke, he needs your approval like it’s oxygen.

LOUD About His Love

He doesn’t even try to hide it. He’s the type to shout “THAT’S MY S/O!” after you do literally anything remotely impressive.

Gets Embarrassed Easily

He’ll act bold, but the second you compliment him or kiss his cheek, he short-circuits and gets all red-faced.

Hyperfixated on You

Once he starts talking about you, it’s over. The team has to listen to him gush about how cool and amazing you are for the next 20 minutes.

Practices Love Confessions in the Mirror

Even after you’re dating, he’ll still rehearse things to say to you like it’s the first time.

Jealous Easily (but tries to play it cool)

If someone flirts with you, he puffs up like an angry cat. “Not that I’m jealous or anything!! B-But don’t talk to them like that!”

Brings You Snacks After Practice

Will literally sprint to the nearest konbini to get your favorite snack if you even hint that you’re hungry.

Wants You to Watch Him Practice

He plays twice as hard when he knows you’re watching. 100% trips at least once trying to show off.

Talks About You to Ushijima

Ushijima doesn’t always respond, but Goshiki will still go, “Right? They’re so amazing, right, Ushijima-san?”

Will Try to Win Every Game ‘For You’

He dedicates every win to you like he’s giving a post-match MVP speech.

Wears Matching Accessories

Gets way too excited over matching phone charms or bracelets. Shows everyone.

Terrible Liar

If he’s planning a surprise for you, it’s so obvious. “What’s behind my back? Uh—NOTHING! DEFINITELY NOT FLOWERS!”

Saves All Your Texts and Photos

His gallery is full of blurry selfies, screenshots of your messages, and photos of you he tries to sneak when you’re not looking.

Will Sing Loudly in Karaoke For You

Even if he’s tone-deaf, he’ll give a full-performance of a love song like it’s a confession scene in a drama.

A Tad Clingy, In a Cute Way

Likes holding your hand everywhere. If you let go, he’ll quietly pout until you grab it again.

Lowkey Wants You to Cheer for Him Loudly

He lives for when you call out his name during games. “Did you hear that?! That was them!!”

Protective (in his own Goshiki way)

If you’re tired, he’ll offer to carry your bag, walk you home, and scold the weather if it’s too hot or cold.

Super Proud to Be Yours

He tells people proudly, “Yeah, they’re my s/o. I know, right?! I’m the luckiest person ever.”

Loves When You Wear His Jersey

Internally combusts if he sees you in it. Tries to act cool, fails.

Tries to Write You a Poem Once

It was a disaster. Rhymed “volleyball” with “fall” like six times. But you loved it.

Big on Celebrating Anniversaries

One-month, three-months, 17-day anniversary? He’s got a plan and a tiny gift ready.

Always Cheering You On Too

You hype him up, but he hypes you right back. Tests? Work? Existing? He’s your #1 fan.

———

💋 💋 💋

[shizuturnspages]

MISUNDERSTANDINGS THAT COULD END LIVES , it was very funny xDdddddz, can I request one from(diluc?) kaeya and Albedo?? (the unlucky one could be Barbara's stalker)(I don't remember his name xD)

How To Accidentally Die in Mondstadt

Kaeya: The Devil in Disguise

Kaeya is charismatic, charming, and incredibly good at making things sound worse than they are. He’s also bored half the time, which means sometimes, just sometimes, he likes to mess with people.

And that’s exactly what happened the night Albert (Barbara’s infamous stalker) made the biggest mistake of his life.

Albert had been lurking outside the Angel's Share, trying (and failing) to look casual while watching Barbara through the tavern’s window. His little stalker heart fluttered—his idol, his goddess, his one true love was inside, talking to you.

He clenched his fists. Who the hell were you? And why was Barbara laughing like you were the most interesting person in the world?

He was just about to storm in when someone tapped his shoulder.

“Ah, what do we have here?”

Albert yelped, turning to see none other than Kaeya Alberich, leaning against the wall like he had all the time in the world.

“Oh, C-Cavalry Captain Kaeya!” Albert stammered.

Kaeya’s smile was too friendly. Too sharp.

“You seem upset,” Kaeya hummed, tilting his head. “Staring at (Y/N) like that… jealous, are we?”

Albert scoffed. “Why would I be jealous? That thing doesn’t deserve to be near my dear Barbara—”

Kaeya’s grin widened.

“Oh? So you don’t know?”

Albert frowned. “Know what?”

Kaeya sighed dramatically. “You poor, poor fool.” He stepped closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“(Y/N) isn’t just some random person.”

Albert swallowed. “...What do you mean?”

Kaeya’s eye twinkled with pure evil.

“Ah, you see… (Y/N) is a hitman.”

Albert’s blood ran cold.

Kaeya kept going.

“You didn’t hear? The Favonius higher-ups got tired of your little ‘hobbies,’” Kaeya said, shaking his head. “They decided to hire an… outside solution.”

Albert’s face went pale.

“And you know the funniest part?” Kaeya leaned in, voice barely above a whisper. “They don’t just kill you. No, no. First, they take their time. A little pain here, a little broken bone there—”

Albert bolted.

He ran like his life depended on it (because in his mind, it did).

Kaeya, meanwhile, just chuckled and walked back into the tavern, where you were completely unaware of what had just happened.

You blinked up at him. “Where’d you go?”

Kaeya smiled, sipping his drink.

“Oh, nowhere important.”

Diluc: Silent and Deadly

Diluc was used to people being terrified of him. He was the Darknight Hero, after all. It came with the job.

But he was not expecting this.

Albert, still paranoid from his encounter with Kaeya, needed a place to hide. And what better place than Dawn Winery?

Surely, nobody would think to look for him in the domain of Mondstadt’s most reclusive noble.

So, heart pounding, Albert sprinted into the estate, nearly tripping over his own feet as he stumbled through the grand entrance.

A maid, Adelinde, looked at him with a raised brow.

“...Sir, do you have an appointment?”

Albert, out of breath, wheezed, “I—I just—need to—”

Then everything went silent.

Because standing at the top of the staircase was Diluc.

Watching.

His red eyes glowed in the dim lighting, burning into Albert like a predator eyeing weak prey.

Albert froze.

Diluc descended the stairs slowly, deliberately.

His boots echoed against the marble floor.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Each step felt like a death sentence.

Albert couldn’t move.

Diluc stopped in front of him.

“…You shouldn’t be here.”

Albert swallowed hard.

His gaze flickered to Diluc’s hands.

Where he saw something dark.

Something staining the noble’s gloves.

Blood.

Albert’s breath hitched.

Diluc followed his gaze, then let out a soft hum.

“I see.”

Albert almost died on the spot.

He turned and ran before Diluc could say another word.

The red-haired noble watched him go, his expression unreadable.

Then, calmly, he turned to Adelinde.

“…Why did he look at me like that?”

Adelinde sighed. “Master Diluc, you do realize your gloves are covered in grape juice, yes?”

Diluc looked down at his hands.

Ah.

That explained it.

Albedo: The Quiet Menace

Albedo was not a people person. He was a scientist first, an artist second, and a conversationalist dead last.

So when Albert (who, by now, was convinced that the entire city was out to kill him) ran into Dragonspine, he wasn’t expecting to see the Chief Alchemist himself.

He also wasn’t expecting Albedo to be standing over a pile of bones.

Albert froze.

Albedo looked up, tilting his head.

“…Can I help you?”

Albert’s fight-or-flight instincts kicked in.

His brain put two and two together.

“(Y/N) is a hitman.”

“Diluc wants me dead.”

“Albedo is standing over a pile of BONES.”

Albert screamed.

And Albedo, not knowing what was happening, just watched him run away with mild confusion.

Sucrose, coming out of the tent: “Who was that?”

Albedo: shrugs “I don’t know. But I think he’s scared of me.”

Sucrose: “...Did you say something to him?”

Albedo, glancing at the pile of Dragonspine monster bones behind him:

“…Maybe.”

The Fall of Albert

The next morning, Jean received a formal resignation letter from Albert.

It simply read:

"I regret to inform you that I am leaving Mondstadt permanently. Please tell Barbara I loved her. But also that she should watch her back, because this city is full of killers. I am certain that (Y/N) has been hired to end my life. Kaeya knows everything. Diluc is covering up crimes. Albedo is dissolving bodies in Dragonspine. I no longer feel safe. May Barbatos bless you all."

Jean blinked.

Lisa, reading over her shoulder, burst out laughing.

You, walking in completely clueless: “What’s so funny?”

Jean and Lisa, looking at you like you just committed murder:

“…Nothing.”

Moral of the story:

Never let Kaeya talk unsupervised.

Diluc should probably stop crushing grapes with his hands.

And Albedo should not be seen near bones.

RIP Albert. You will not be missed. 😌

[artthekid]

Every time you watch this, focus on a different hedgehog XD These boys are so silly lol. I MADE AN ANIMATIC YAAAY! I forgot how long it takes to make these but omg I had so much fun drawing these boys losing their minds XD Sonic just absolutely losing it, Shadow trying and failing to keep composure, and Silver don’t know what he’s doin xD

I laughed so hard at this part in Markipliers video tho I had to use it!

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

Indefinite hiatus

I was toying with writing up a long post about what running this blog has meant to me over the years and why I'm stepping away for the foreseeable future, but that feels too dramatic for what's really just me saying "I'm not going to be on tumblr for at least the rest of the year". So, I'll just say I'm not going to be on tumblr for at least the rest of the year.

Okay, actually I have a bunch more to say, but it'll be under the cut.

Politics sucks. And paying attention to it, even in the reduced way I've been paying attention to it over the last few years, is hard. You end up spending so much of your supposedly free time thinking about things you can't change, getting mad about things you can't change, and getting depressed when the people who can change things just keep going in the wrong direction. Even when good things happen, it's just a matter of a few days before something bad happens once again. And vice versa. It's an endless cycle of hope, despair, resignation. Rinse and repeat, and triple speed that cycle during an election year. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of spending every other year worried about what's going to happen on one day in November. I'm tired of hearing a piece of news and automatically composing a post about it or running through 20 different responses I might give to asks I might get about it in my head.

Everyone I know who doesn't pay attention to politics (or at least doesn't run a social media page dedicated to it) seems to enjoy their live a lot more than I currently do. Which sounds way more dramatic than what's actually going on, which is mainly that I want to get to a place where I just don't care. I want the world and its problems to flow off my back instead of weighing it down. I want to stop thinking about what people on the internet might say about something I haven't even posted yet. And that can't happen while I'm tied to this blog. So I'll be staying away from it for at least the rest of the year.

I did have a good time with this blog. I've met a bunch of really awesome people, some who are sadly no longer with us (RIP Blue), and some who I think will carry on the "fight" way better than I ever did. This isn't an admission of defeat, or pessimism about the election. Even if Trump wins, and I truly think he will if we have a fair election, I still won't be back this year. But I'll still vote and I'll still be proud that my silly little tumblr blog had an impact on some people's lives. I may not have the reach of a Tucker Carlson or a Glenn Beck, but I've gotten a lot of messages from people who said they changed their minds about an issue, or even politics in general, because of things I said, and that counts for something. If you guys take anything away from me, I want it to be this: Even the smallest impact matters. It doesn't matter if you only ever reach one person and then stop, reaching that one person is enough. Changing one vote is enough. Changing one mind is enough.

To all my mutuals, you guys are the best. I truly hope you have wonderful lives and I'm sad I won't get to see your names on my dash everyday anymore. To anyone I've ever followed or reblogged from, I couldn't have had a blog without you, so thank you. Yes, even the leftiod psychos, XD. To everyone else, find your own balance and never give into despair and never listen to people who tell you not to try. Even a failed effort is still more meaningful than sitting back and mocking people for trying to improve even the smallest thing about themselves or the world around them.

I won't be logging back in after I post this, so any messages or asks you send, I won't see. I'll still be active (or as active as I ever am) in my discord, so feel free to join there if you want to. It should still be my pinned post, but if it isn't, I'll edit this with a new invite link.

And that's all I've got to say for now.