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pretzel-box · 8 months ago

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In case I haven't told you: I love you.

Streamer AU Chapter 10 [Finale]

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Established Relationship

Words: 9,4k

Authors Note: This is the official last chapter for this series and my blog. Thank you all for your support.

You sat on a chair at the kitchen counter, tinkering with your new keyboard. All the keycaps were pulled off as you swapped the old, plain ones for a custom set of resin-poured, sparkling caps. You’d spent a small fortune on these, enough to make even Sebastian raise an eyebrow as he walked by to grab a cup of coffee.

"You know, one of those caps could pay for my whole breakfast," he remarked, leaning over your shoulder and picking up one of the keys—the ESC key. It was a deep lapis lazuli blue mixed with a golden hue, with tiny koi fish suspended inside. The tiny keycap was a masterpiece all on its own, and even Sebastian’s gaze lingered a moment longer as he examined it.

You laughed, rolling your eyes as Sebastian inspected the tiny piece of art between his fingers. "I don’t hear you complaining when I splurge on things for you." You teased, nudging his arm playfully.

He smirked, setting the keycap down carefully, but not before his fingers brushed yours, lingering just a moment too long. "True, but I at least pretend to be reasonable about it." He countered, the corner of his mouth curling into a grin.

You arched an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Oh, is that so? I seem to remember a certain someone nearly buying an entire set of limited-edition streaming lights last month."

He chuckled, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Only because I knew it would make my streamer setup look amazing." His eyes sparkled as he held your gaze, the playful teasing fading just slightly, replaced with something softer, warmer.

"Well." You replied, trying to keep your composure despite the flutter in your chest, "Maybe I got these just to impress my favorite…roommate."

Sebastian laughed, a rich sound that made the moment feel more intimate. "Guess that means we both have good taste, then." he murmured, his fingers still lightly brushing against yours, as if neither of you wanted to pull away first.

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you glanced over to the corner of the room, where Sebastian’s laundry basket sat conspicuously overflowing. "Good taste, sure." You replied, smirking. "Though maybe your taste in doing laundry could use some improvement."

Sebastian groaned, leaning back against the counter with an exaggerated sigh. "I knew there was a catch to all this charm."

"You’re lucky I didn’t toss it all in the tub and call it ‘artistic installation.’" You teased, poking him playfully. "But hey, since you’re such a reasonable spender, maybe you can be reasonable about getting those clothes folded sometime this century?"

He raised an eyebrow, smirking as he folded his arms. "Maybe if someone would promise to make dinner while I do it?"

You feigned a thoughtful look, tapping your chin as you eyed him. "Fine. But only if it’s one of those nights where you’re my sous-chef." You said. "You know, like last time, when you almost sliced your finger but made the best pasta I’ve ever tasted."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Deal. Just don’t get too used to me in the kitchen—I don’t want you thinking this roommate thing comes with free cooking classes."

You snickered, leaning a little closer. "Oh, please, you love being my sous-chef. Plus, I think I caught you enjoying it last time."

He shrugged, pretending nonchalance. "Maybe I did." He said, his voice low, his gaze flicking between you and the pile of ingredients waiting on the counter. "Guess I don’t mind spending a little extra time with my favorite chef."

"Alright, hun." You replied, giving him a playful nudge toward the fridge. "Let’s get to work before we both end up ordering takeout."

You pulled out a recipe card, tapping it on the counter thoughtfully as Sebastian finished stacking his laundry basket against the wall. “Tonight,” you announced, “we’re making risotto.”

Sebastian’s face lit up with a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Risotto, huh? I thought that was, like, advanced level.”

You gave him a mock serious nod. “It is, but don’t worry—under my expert guidance, I’m sure you’ll rise to the challenge.” You winked, grabbing an apron and tossing one his way. He caught it midair and slipped it over his head, looking surprisingly domestic in the soft light of the kitchen.

The two of you moved around the kitchen, gathering ingredients. Sebastian was on vegetable duty, meticulously chopping onions and garlic, his brows furrowed as he concentrated. You snuck a peek at his handiwork, grinning.

“Not bad.” You said approvingly, bumping his shoulder with yours. “I think you’re getting the hang of this.”

“Only because I have an exceptional teacher.” He replied smoothly, flashing you a grin. “Though,” he added with a chuckle, “I’m pretty sure you gave me onions just to make me cry.”

You laughed, watching him chop with surprising finesse. “I have a weakness for pretty boys with tears in their lashes. Onions aside, I think you’re ready to take on the mushrooms.”

He raised his eyebrows, looking at the bowl of fresh mushrooms with a dramatic sigh. “You’re sure this isn’t just you delegating all the tough parts?”

“Maybe.” You said with a smirk. “But also, mushrooms need love, and you seem like the right person for the job.”

While he chopped mushrooms, you turned your attention to heating up a pot of vegetable broth on the stove. The savory aroma of garlic and onion began to fill the kitchen, and you stirred the mixture in a pan, glancing over at Sebastian as he focused intently on his task.

After a while, he leaned over to inspect your progress, watching as you stirred the rice, coating it in the golden mix of garlic, onion, and butter. “Looks like you’re the expert risotto-stirrer.” He teased, resting his chin on your shoulder for a brief moment. “When do I get to try?”

You nudged him with your elbow, laughing. “Soon, sous-chef. I have to make sure it’s just right.”

He watched, fascinated, as you added a ladle of hot broth to the pan, explaining as you went. “See? You don’t add it all at once. You let each addition of broth absorb before adding more. It’s all about patience.”

“Patience?” he repeated, giving you an amused look. “Not exactly my strongest trait.”

You raised an eyebrow, shooting him a grin. “Well, consider this your culinary crash course in patience.”

For the next twenty minutes, you took turns stirring and adding broth, chatting in between as you shared old memories, random stories, and silly jokes. There was something intimate about the process, each of you moving with careful rhythm, enjoying each other’s company in the warm, quiet space of the kitchen.

"Remember that time we played that cooking game on stream with just one arm each? And you fried a rat?" Sebastian laughed, recalling the iconic moment. It was one of your very first streams together.

You gasped in mock offense. "Excuse me! You told me to be culinarily creative for our dear customers."

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned back against the counter, his laughter warm and unrestrained. "Oh, I remember. How could I forget? You had the chat in absolute stitches when you served that poor pixelated rat like it was a five-star dish."

You placed a hand over your chest, feigning offense. "Excuse me! I was merely following instructions. You explicitly told me to be ‘culinarily creative for our loving customers.’ I just… took it to heart."

Sebastian wiped a tear from his eye, still grinning. "And you succeeded, alright. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so passionate about frying something that was absolutely, one hundred percent not food." He mimed holding a frying pan, doing his best impression of you earnestly plating up the rat. “Gourmet rat, fresh from the chef’s hands.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his impression, remembering how you’d tried so hard to keep a straight face on stream, while the chat had been exploding with laughter. "Hey, I’d like to point out that I even garnished it with a sprinkle of virtual parsley."

"Yeah, and I had to pretend it was edible." Sebastian replied, still grinning. "The things I do for the art of streaming."

With a grin, you shrugged. “Guess it just shows what a great team we make, right? You keep up appearances, and I…” You paused, smirking, “I make the riskiest, most questionable food decisions.”

He looked down at you, his smile softening as he held your gaze. "Yeah." He murmured, "I guess it really does. We’re one heck of a team."

There was a gentle silence, one filled with warmth, as you both let the memories linger, the familiarity and playfulness wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. After a moment, you nudged his arm. "So, cooking game or real life—think you’re ready for another ‘creative’ culinary adventure with me?"

He chuckled, leaning a little closer, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Only if you promise me no rats this time."

At one point, he reached over and brushed a stray bit of flour off your cheek, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. “You’ve got a little something there.” He murmured, his eyes meeting yours with a soft expression that made your heart skip a beat.

“Thanks.” you replied, your voice a little softer than intended.

With the risotto nearly ready, you handed him a wooden spoon. “Alright, sous-chef. Moment of truth—taste test.”

Sebastian took the spoon from you, giving you an exaggerated nod before taking a careful bite. His eyes lit up as he tasted the creamy, savory dish. “Wow,” he said, nodding appreciatively. “I actually helped make this? Totally doesn't taste like pixel rat.”

“See?” you replied, laughing. “You’ve got more culinary skills than you think.”

He laughed, taking another spoonful. “Okay, I’ll admit, this is pretty fun. You might turn me into a chef yet.”

Together, you plated the risotto, sprinkling a bit of parmesan and fresh parsley on top. You each carried a plate to the small dining table, which you’d quickly decorated with a candle and a couple of mismatched napkins to make it feel a bit more special.

Sitting across from him, you clinked your fork against his with a grin. “To our first official cooking date.” You said, feeling a mix of pride and warmth.

“To the world’s most patient teacher.” He added, giving you a smile that made your cheeks warm.

You ate slowly, savoring not just the food, but the easy conversation and gentle glances shared between bites. Occasionally, he’d sneak his fork onto your plate, taking an extra bite with a laugh as you swatted at his hand.

After finishing, you both lingered at the table, caught in the comfortable glow of shared laughter and the lingering warmth of the meal. Finally, as you stood to clear the plates, Sebastian reached over, gently grabbing your wrist to stop you.

“You know.” he said softly, his gaze holding yours, “I think I’m starting to like cooking. Especially if it means nights like this.”

His hand stayed warm against your skin, and for a moment, you forgot about the dishes, the kitchen, everything around you.

“Well.” you replied with a smile, “Then I guess we’ll have to make it a tradition.”

He nodded, his smile softening as he released your hand, but not before giving it a light, lingering squeeze that promised many more evenings like this one.

The laughter still lingered in the air as you finished washing up from dinner, the lingering warmth from the meal creating a quiet, comfortable bubble around the two of you. Sebastian was drying the last of the dishes, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he talked about what to stream next week, teasing the idea of recreating your infamous “gourmet rat” moment in real life.

But then, a sharp knock echoed from the front door, slicing through the ease of the evening. You both paused, glancing at each other, puzzled by the unexpected sound. Who would be stopping by at this hour?

“I’ll get it.” He murmured, his voice low, as he dried his hands on a dish towel. You watched as he walked toward the door, pulling it open with a curious, cautious expression. But when he looked up, his whole face shifted. There, standing in the dim light of the hallway, were two police officers. Their stern faces were blank, unreadable, and behind them, a few more officers were stationed just outside. The sight of them sent an uneasy chill through you, and your stomach twisted.

“Sebastian Solace?” The officer closest to him asked, voice flat and all business. Sebastian blinked, bewildered.

“Yes? Is something wrong?” He asked, looking back at you as if trying to gauge if you knew anything about this. But before you could even register the question, the officer took a step forward, holding out a pair of handcuffs. It was like a perfect scene from your favourite drama, as if the characters jumped out of the television to fool you.

“Mr. Solace, you’re under arrest on suspicion of multiple homicides.” The officer said, his words like thunder in the silent apartment. “Please turn around and place your hands behind your back.”

The words took a moment to sink in, and when they did, it felt like the air had been ripped from the room. You stood frozen, mouth open, as Sebastian’s face went from confusion to utter shock.

“What?” He stammered, voice thick with disbelief. “There must be some mistake—I haven’t done anything. I don’t even—” But the officer was already reaching for his wrists, pulling them behind his back as he clicked the cuffs into place with a heavy metallic clink that reverberated in the space. The sound was sharp, final.

"Wait!" You exclaimed, stepping forward as panic washed over you. “This is insane! You can’t just—he hasn’t done anything! Sebastian couldn’t—”

The second officer turned toward you, his gaze steely. “Ma’am, I understand this is a shock, but please step back. We have probable cause, and Mr. Solace will be given the chance to explain himself at the station.”

Sebastian’s head turned, eyes wide as they locked onto yours. "I… I don’t know what’s going on," He said, his voice wavering as he struggled to keep calm. "I didn’t… I didn’t do anything." His eyes, usually filled with easy confidence and warmth, were filled with a mixture of confusion and fear, a look you had never seen on his face before.

“I know you didn’t.” You managed, voice choked. “This has to be a mistake. Tell them!”

But the officers were unmoved, beginning to guide him out the door, leaving you standing in the hallway, rooted in disbelief. You reached for his hand one last time, and he turned to you, gripping your fingers tightly, as if that small touch was an anchor. “It’s okay.” He said quietly, though the panic in his voice was clear. “I’ll sort this out. Don’t… don’t worry about me.”

But how could you not? How could you let them take him, when you knew deep down, in every part of you, that Sebastian was incapable of such a thing?

As they led him out, each step growing heavier, you were left alone in the silence, the stillness deafening. Sebastian’s plate was still on the table, his jacket draped over the back of the chair. It was as if he had only stepped out for a moment, and yet, he was gone. You could still feel the lingering warmth of his hand in yours, the echo of his words ringing in your mind.

You stumbled back against the counter, struggling to breathe as the weight of what just happened settled on you. Someone had framed him. Someone had set up this impossible, unfathomable trap, and Sebastian had walked right into it. And now, the life you’d built together—the quiet mornings, the shared streams, the countless inside jokes—all of it hung in the balance.

“Sebastian…” You whispered, gripping the edge of the counter as if you could steady yourself through sheer will. Your mind raced, images of him, terrified and alone, the weight of this false accusation pressing down on him. You had to do something. You couldn’t just stand by while the man you loved was being treated like a monster.

But as you looked around the quiet, empty apartment, you felt the sinking realization that things would never be the same. The warmth and laughter of the evening had been replaced by a cold, harsh reality, one that you couldn’t ignore. And as you stood there, a single, urgent thought echoed in your mind, louder and louder with each passing second. This couldn't be how it ends.

Hours passed in a blur, each moment more surreal than the last. You sat at the kitchen table, hands clutching a mug of tea you hadn’t even touched. The entire apartment was in disarray: Police officers moved from room to room, rifling through closets, drawers, and even the cabinets in search of… what? Evidence of Sebastian’s so-called crimes?

The entire scene felt like a waking nightmare. You watched in despair as they moved into Sebastian’s room, handling his belongings like they were pieces of some sinister puzzle, prying through his private life without hesitation. The familiar warmth and comfort of the apartment was stripped away, replaced by the cold efficiency of strangers treating your life as a crime scene.

“Ma’am?” A voice jolted you from your thoughts. One of the officers, Detective Hall, took the seat across from you, fixing you with a hard, calculating stare. He placed a notepad on the table and flipped it open, pen poised, ready to capture your every word. This wasn't just a small round of questions. It felt like the pen was a gun that he was holding against your forhead, wanting you to say that he wanted to hear and not the truth you believed in.

You took a shaky breath, trying to steel yourself. “I already told you.” You said, voice barely above a whisper, it was slightly shaking from the pressure. Your whole personality crumbled under the sheer panic. “Sebastian didn’t do this. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Detective Hall tilted his head, his lips curling into a thin smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sure you want to believe that, but I have to be honest. The evidence suggests otherwise.”

You swallowed, fighting to keep your voice steady. “He’s kind, thoughtful… there’s no way he’d ever—”

“Let’s go over this again.” The detective interrupted, his tone patient yet cold. “You’ve been living with Mr. Solace for some time, yes?”

“Yes.” You answered, nodding slowly. “Some time...”

“And during that time, have you ever noticed anything… unusual about him? Unexplained absences, strange behavior, anything that might seem insignificant but could have been a red flag?”

The question felt like a trap, and you shook your head quickly, heart pounding. “No. Nothing like that. He’s just—he’s always been a good person. A little messy with his stuff sometimes, but that’s it. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.” Any wrong word could mean Sebastians end. Saying less means providing more support for your boyfriend.

Detective Hall leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “Are you sure you’re not trying to protect him? It’s natural to want to defend someone close to you, but sometimes… people can hide dark sides we don’t see.”

“No, you don’t understand—Sebastian’s innocent.” You insisted, feeling the words burn on your tongue. “He wouldn’t—”

“But he did.” Hall’s voice was sharp, cutting through the air with brutal efficiency. He fired the imaginary gun at you with the following statement. “We’ve found DNA evidence at multiple crime scenes that match Mr. Solace’s. His fingerprints, his hair… even traces of his blood.”

The room spun for a moment as his words hit you like a physical blow. You gripped the edge of the table, forcing yourself to process the revelation. DNA evidence? It made no sense. How could that be possible?

“That… that can’t be right.” You stammered, shaking your head in disbelief. “There has to be a mistake. Maybe it’s someone who looks like him, or maybe the samples were contaminated—”

Detective Hall raised a brow, as if amused by your attempts to explain it away. “It’s no mistake. We’ve triple-checked. Mr. Solace’s DNA was found at every single crime scene. This isn’t a matter of chance or coincidence.”

You felt the weight of those words settle heavily, like stones in your chest. This was the kind of evidence that would seal a conviction, the kind of irrefutable proof that would convince a jury. But you knew Sebastian. You knew his heart, his kindness, his gentleness.

“He’s… he’s been with me.” You whispered, half a lie, desperation slipping into your voice. “We’re always together. If he was gone, I would have noticed. He’s not… he’s not capable of this.” There where times, where he was alone. You knew you couldn't cover Sebastian in that part.

„Well, last week, monday evening around 7...Where was he? With you?“ „Well he wasn't with m-“ „Then he wasn't always with you. Listen, we just wanna solve this case. This isn't a witch hunt to spill innocent blood.“ Hall’s gaze softened for a brief moment, as if he pitied you, but his tone was unwavering. “Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think, ma’am. It’s possible that there are sides to people we love that we never see. You wouldn’t be the first to be blindsided.”

Anger and frustration flared within you, mixed with helplessness as you struggled to find the right words. “No… you’re wrong. You have to be. He’s innocent. I don’t know how his DNA got there, but I know him, and he’s not a murderer.”

Detective Hall sighed, closing his notebook as he got up, leaving you trembling at the table. “I understand this is difficult to accept.” He said, his voice almost condescending. “But it’s better if you start facing the facts. If you think of anything—anything at all—that could help us, I suggest you reach out.”

You watched as he walked away, his words echoing in your mind like a curse. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, suffocating in their familiarity. Your hands trembled as you clutched the edge of the table, the mug of tea long forgotten and cold.

Detective Hall’s words echoed in your mind like a haunting refrain. DNA evidence. Fingerprints. Hair. You had fought so hard against the growing sense of dread, clinging to the belief that there had to be some explanation, some way to rationalize it all. But as time passed, the weight of those words settled on your chest, heavy and inescapable.

The more you thought about it, the more the pieces started to come together in a way that made your stomach churn. Sebastian’s late nights spent in the studio, the times he seemed distracted or distant, the odd comments he’d made that you’d brushed off as quirky or eccentric. What if there had been more going on?

You felt your breath quickening, the panic rising in your throat like a tide. The laughter and warmth of earlier days felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by the horror that now loomed over you. How could you have been so naive? How could you have trusted him so completely?

Suddenly, it felt as if the walls themselves were pressing in on you, closing around your heart until you could hardly breathe. “No, no, no.” You whispered to yourself, shaking your head furiously. “He can’t be guilty. He wouldn’t… he couldn’t…”

But as you said it, doubt crept into your heart like a dark shadow. The evidence was overwhelming, and deep down, you knew it. There was a part of you that wanted to scream, to deny the truth, but the realization that the person you loved might be capable of something so horrific shattered your defenses.

You stood abruptly, pushing away from the table as your chair clattered to the ground. Your heart raced, and you stumbled into the living room, pacing back and forth as tears began to stream down your cheeks. “Sebastian… how could you?” The question hung in the air, heavy and full of anguish.

You could see his face in your mind—the smile that lit up his eyes, the kindness in his voice, the way he made you feel safe. But now, the image began to twist, tainted by the knowledge that he might be hiding something monstrous. You pressed your hands against your temples, fighting against the overwhelming sense of betrayal that surged within you.

What if the good times had all been a facade? What if he had been playing you all along?

Your legs gave out, and you sank to the floor, sobs breaking free as your entire world collapsed around you. The warmth of the apartment, once a sanctuary, felt like a prison. You buried your face in your hands, the weight of despair crushing you. “I believed in you.” You cried, voice muffled against your palms. “How could you do this to me?”

The sobs wracked your body, and you could feel your heart fracturing with every breath. The pain was all-consuming, a tempest of emotions swirling within you—anger, betrayal, sorrow. You felt utterly alone, abandoned in a nightmare you couldn’t escape.

It felt as if the walls themselves echoed your despair, a cruel reminder that you were trapped in this reality. The tears flowed freely, and you gasped for air, each breath feeling like a betrayal to the love you once held so fiercely. “Sebastian.” You choked out, the name a whisper tinged with heartbreak. “Please tell me this isn’t true…”

But deep down, a seed of doubt took root, a dark whisper that you couldn’t silence. And as you sat there, broken on the floor, you realized with chilling clarity that you might have to confront a truth you were terrified to face. Sebastian’s guilt. The possibility that the man you had loved so completely could be the monster hiding in plain sight.

The thought sent another wave of anguish crashing over you, and you curled into yourself, the weight of despair dragging you down into the depths of an all-consuming darkness.

The days turned into weeks, and the world outside faded into a distant blur. You had once filled your life with laughter and joy, sharing your passions and adventures with Sebastian on stream. But now, the only sound that echoed in the emptiness of your apartment was the relentless ticking of the clock, a constant reminder of the time that had passed since he was taken from you.

Sebastian’s execution had felt surreal, a nightmarish sequence that played out in slow motion. You had sat in the courtroom, heart pounding, as the gavel struck down on his fate, each word from the judge slicing through you like glass. “Guilty.” The word had reverberated in your mind, drowning out everything else. The cheers from those who had come to watch felt like daggers in your back, as you struggled to comprehend how the world could move on when yours had shattered.

In the days following, you had retreated into yourself, cocooning in the memories of what once was. The apartment felt hollow, the air heavy with the absence of his laughter and warmth. You’d tried to continue with your life, but every attempt felt futile. The vibrant colors of your past had drained away, leaving only shades of gray.

You found yourself staring at the walls, the pictures of you and Sebastian hanging like ghosts of a happier time. You avoided the streaming setup, the computer untouched and gathering dust. You couldn’t bear the thought of performing for an audience that had reveled in the spectacle of his downfall. The playful banter, the inside jokes—everything that had once felt like second nature was now suffocating.

It was in this state of isolation that you began to notice the ringing phone, the unknown number flashing on the screen each time. It became an annoyance, a constant reminder of the outside world that you had closed off. You ignored it at first, but as the calls persisted, you felt an overwhelming urge to pick up and shout into the void, to let whoever was on the other end know that you didn’t care. You were done.

“Just let it go.” You whispered to yourself, gripping the phone tightly in your hand, willing it to stop. But it only rang louder, taunting you, as if demanding a response. It felt like a ghost of your past, lingering reminders of what you had lost. You buried your face in your hands, tears streaming down your cheeks as you mourned for Sebastian—the man who had filled your life with love, laughter, and joy.

Days turned into weeks, and you often found yourself walking the familiar paths that you had taken together, hoping to feel a connection to him, to find something that could ease the ache in your heart. You walked to the small coffee shop where you’d spent countless mornings, the barista greeting you with a sad smile as if he could see the heaviness in your soul.

“Are you okay?” He asked gently, his voice low as he handed you your usual drink.

You forced a smile that felt hollow. “Yeah, just… missing a friend.” You replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, understanding etched in his features. “Take your time. We’re here for you if you need anything. I'm sure your friend will return soon.”

You returned to the apartment, the silence greeting you like an old friend. It was a comfort and a torment all at once, the echoes of Sebastian’s laughter haunting you at every turn. You stumbled through the rooms, feeling his presence everywhere, yet completely gone. The kitchen was a battlefield of untouched dishes, and the living room still bore witness to the chaos of that fateful night.

And yet, you felt compelled to keep ignoring the outside world. You and Sebastian had built a sanctuary here, and now it felt like a tomb—a space to remember and mourn, but also to be consumed by grief. You couldn’t bear the thought of facing Painter, or anyone else who might remind you of what you’d lost. Their calls went unanswered, your heart too heavy to even think of engaging with anyone.

But one night, as you sat curled up on the couch, a sudden urge struck you. You picked up the phone, thumb hovering over the contact list. It was almost automatic, a reflex driven by a desire to feel connected to someone, even if it was only a shadow of what you had with Sebastian. You clicked on Painter’s name, your heart racing as you prepared to dial. But just as your finger touched the screen, the phone rang again, the same unknown number flashing before you.

You hesitated, a surge of anger rising within you. “Why won’t you just leave me alone?” you cried out into the stillness, your voice trembling with a whirlwind of emotion. You had no strength left to deal with this mystery, this constant reminder of a life that felt irretrievably lost.

With a trembling hand, you answered the call. “Hello?” The word felt foreign on your tongue, like a brittle leaf falling from a tree in autumn.

A pause followed, stretching into an eternity, and then a voice emerged from the silence, dripping with smugness and taunting glee. “A wonderful evening, isn’t it?”

Recognition hit you like a slap, anger and disbelief coiling in your stomach. “Who is this?” You demanded, your heart racing as you tried to mask the tremor in your voice.

“It’s me… Allison.” She said, and you could almost hear the smirk in her tone. “I’ve been trying to reach you. You see, I want to meet you. In person.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The mere mention of her name felt like a punch to your gut. “What do you want?” You spat, the words sharp and laced with hurt, a raw wound that refused to heal.

“Oh, come now.” She chided, her voice honeyed yet poisonous. “You must know by now that I have the information you crave. The kind of juicy details that could change everything. And let’s be honest, you could use a little excitement in your life after all that’s happened.”

You could almost picture her, leaning back in some luxurious chair, a smug smile on her lips, relishing every moment of your turmoil. “What makes you think I’d want to hear anything from you?” You countered, trying to maintain the semblance of strength. But beneath your bravado, you were shaken, your heart aching at the memories that flooded back, memories of trust and betrayal.

“I know you’re hurting.” Allison pressed, her tone shifting, turning almost persuasive. “But the truth is, I hold the keys to unlocking the real story. You think you know what happened? Think again. Sebastian’s innocence? It’s a farce, darling.” She laughed lightly, and it sent a chill down your spine. “You need to hear what I have to say.”

A cold dread settled in your chest, mingling with your fury. How could she speak of Sebastian like that? Your mind raced with confusion and anger, torn between the desire to protect his memory and the nagging curiosity of what she might reveal. “What do you mean?” You demanded, your voice barely a whisper.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m not going to just give it away.” She cooed, her tone patronizing, like she was speaking to a child. “But I promise you, once you hear me out, everything will make sense. This isn’t just about Sebastian. It’s about the bigger picture. The real culprits behind the chaos that’s torn your life apart. And believe me, darling, it’s going to be quite a revelation.”

A sick feeling settled in your stomach as you wrestled with your emotions. You were weary of being trapped in this darkness, of the isolation that suffocated you. But could you trust her? Deep down, you felt that small flicker of hope—the chance that perhaps, just perhaps, she might hold some truth that could change everything.

“Fine.” You said finally, your voice steadying as you took a deep breath. “But this better be good. I don’t have time for games, Allison.”

“Good! Meet me at the park, by the fountain. You know the one. Tomorrow at noon. Come alone.” She instructed, her tone brisk and commanding, as if she knew you’d comply without question.

The line went dead, and you stared at the phone in disbelief, a storm of emotions swirling within you. You felt the shadows of your grief deepen, intertwining with the threads of a truth you had yet to confront. What was she playing at? Was this a trap? But the thought of Sebastian’s name hanging in the air like a ghost pulled at you, urging you to seek answers, no matter how painful they might be.

You spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, the weight of uncertainty heavy on your chest. As the sun rose the next morning, you felt a mix of dread and determination settle in your bones. You had to know the truth, even if it meant facing the very person who had turned your world upside down. You were willing to confront your fears if it meant uncovering the secrets buried in the shadows of your past.

As you prepared to leave, a part of you wondered what you would discover in that conversation. Would it bring you closer to the truth, or would it only lead to more heartbreak? Only time would tell, but one thing was certain: You were no longer willing to let fear dictate your life. Today, you would seek the truth, whatever the cost.

The morning air was crisp as you made your way to the park, your heart pounding in your chest with each step. The sun peeked through the branches of the trees, casting dappled shadows on the path ahead. As you approached the fountain, a wave of nausea washed over you. You had no idea what to expect from your encounter with Allison, but the tension was palpable, thickening the air around you.

You spotted her seated on a bench, casually flicking through her phone, the picture of nonchalance. She looked up as you approached, a smile playing on her lips that sent a chill down your spine. “You came.” She said, her voice light as if you were simply meeting for coffee.

“I’m not here to play games, Allison.” You said, forcing your voice to steady despite the tremor in your hands. “What do you want?”

She motioned for you to sit, and despite every instinct telling you to run, you complied, tension coiling in your stomach. “I wanted to talk about Sebastian.” She said, her tone shifting to something more serious. “You need to understand the truth of what happened.”

“The truth?” you echoed, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. “What do you know about the truth?”

Allison leaned closer, her eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and something darker. “Oh, darling, I know everything. I know what you’ve been through, the heartbreak, the isolation. I know you still believe in Sebastian’s innocence.” She paused, savoring your reaction. “But here’s the thing: He’s not innocent. Not in the way you think.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What are you talking about?” You shook your head, trying to deny the implications of her words. “Sebastian would never—”

“Would never what?” She interrupted, her voice rising with feigned innocence. “Kill? You see, it’s easy to point fingers, especially when the truth is so beautifully complicated.” She leaned back, a smirk spreading across her face. “And I should know, because I orchestrated it all.”

A cold dread settled over you, a sickening realization dawning. “You’re lying,” you said weakly, but even as you spoke, the pieces began to click into place. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. “I took my time, did my research. I switched out evidence, planted things to frame him perfectly. You see, the cops would never suspect the innocent ex-girlfriend, would they?” Her eyes sparkled with malice. “And I had just the plan to make sure it all fell into place.”

“Why? Why would you do this?” The words came out as a choked whisper, your heart racing as the reality of her confession settled in. “What did Sebastian ever do to you?”

Allison laughed, a cruel, mirthless sound. “Oh, sweetie, it was never about Sebastian. It was about you. I wanted to see you broken, to watch your world crumble. You had everything I wanted—his affection, his attention, his life. I just thought it would be so much fun to take it all away.” She paused, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. “And I must say, it’s been quite the show.”

“Stop it!” You shouted, your voice rising in desperation. “You can’t keep getting away with this. I’ll go to the police. I’ll tell them everything!”

“Oh, but you won’t.” She purred, leaning closer, her voice low and threatening. “Because I’ve already taken care of that. The evidence against Sebastian is airtight. His DNA was at the scenes, his clothes were planted. I even collected hair samples—he won’t be able to escape this.”

You felt your world tilt, your heart racing as the realization hit you. She was right: She had manipulated everything, and there was nothing you could do to stop her. “You’re insane.” You whispered, your body shaking with disbelief. “You can’t just play with people’s lives like this!”

“Why not?” Allison shrugged, her expression unfazed. “Life is a game, and I simply play to win. And right now, you’re just a pawn in my little chess match.”

A shuddering breath escaped you as the weight of her words crushed down on you. “You’re a monster.” You said, fighting back tears.

“Perhaps.” She said, her smile widening. “But I’m the one in control here. And you’re left with nothing but the truth—a truth that will haunt you for the rest of your life. Think of the fun you’ll have trying to navigate this new reality.”

You felt your heart break all over again, shattering into a million irretrievable pieces. “You can’t get away with this.” You said, but your voice lacked the conviction it once held.

“Oh, but I already have.” She replied, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. “And if you’re smart, you’ll keep your mouth shut. Otherwise, who knows what might happen next?”

The weight of her threat hung heavy in the air, and you realized the truth of her power over you. The world felt like it was closing in, your vision blurring as the enormity of it all washed over you. With a sickening feeling of despair, you understood that you were utterly alone in this twisted game.

As you rose from the bench, every part of you screamed to run, to escape the grip of her twisted reality. But deep down, you knew you couldn’t. Not yet. The fight was far from over, but now, it was a fight for survival, and you had to gather every ounce of strength to confront the darkness that threatened to consume you. The battle was just beginning, and you would not let her win.

You stepped back, shaking your head as if that could somehow dispel the reality of the situation. “You’re delusional, Allison.” You said, but the conviction in your voice was wavering. “This can’t be real. You didn’t plan all of this from the beginning.”

Allison laughed again, a sound that echoed through the park like a chilling wind. “Oh, but it is real, darling. Every moment we spent together, every laugh we shared on those calls, it was all a performance. I played the role of the girlfriend to perfection, didn’t I?” She leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with a manic energy. “I had you all wrapped around my little finger, believing I on his side while I was orchestrating your downfall.”

Your heart raced as you felt the blood drain from your face. “No… No, you can’t mean that.” You stammered, disbelief mingling with a sickening realization. “You were there when Sebastian was arrested in court. You acted like you cared!”

“Cared?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically. “I was reveling in your pain! Watching you grieve over someone you believed was innocent while I knew the truth all along was the highlight of my little game.” She paused, her expression shifting to something darker. “And the best part? I’ll always be three steps ahead of you.”

The breath caught in your throat, a chill running down your spine. “You’re a monster.” You whispered, your voice trembling. “How can you do this?”

“Because it’s fun.” She simply repeated, shrugging her shoulders as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “And let’s be real: I’m the only one who understands the beauty in chaos. This world is just a stage, and I’m the star of my own show.”

Every word dripped with malice, a taunting melody that twisted your insides. “You’re not a star, Allison. You’re just a pathetic coward hiding behind a mask of cruelty.”

She tilted her head, a smirk still playing on her lips. “But it’s the mask that gives me power, don’t you see? I can walk into any room and make people believe whatever I want them to believe. I’ve turned everyone against Sebastian. The evidence I planted, the stories I twisted—it’s all there. You can’t change the narrative once it’s set in stone.”

A fresh wave of anger surged through you, igniting a spark of defiance. “I won’t let you do this. I’ll find a way to expose you!”

“Oh, sweet naïve darling.” She mocked, her laughter sharp and cruel. “You think anyone will believe you? You’re just the broken girlfriend of a murderer. Who would trust your word against the solid evidence I’ve crafted? You’ll be seen as the girl who couldn’t let go, who couldn’t accept that her boyfriend was a monster.”

You felt your heart shatter all over again, each piece piercing you deeper. The weight of her manipulation suffocated you, leaving you gasping for air. “Why, Allison? Why all this?” You begged, desperation creeping into your voice. “What did you gain from ruining our lives?”

She leaned back, crossing her arms with a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. “I told you. It’s all a game, and I just wanted to see how far I could push you. I wanted to watch you crumble, to see you lose everything you held dear. It was beautiful, really. Watching you struggle to come to terms with Sebastian’s guilt while I quietly reveled in your despair.”

As her words sank in, a wave of grief crashed over you, threatening to drown you in its depths. “You’re sick.” You murmured, tears brimming in your eyes. “You’re not a person...“

“Call me what you want.” She said, her tone breezy, as if your words didn’t affect her. “The truth is, I’m the only one left standing. You’re the one who has lost everything, and I’m just getting started.”

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. She was right. You had been so focused on saving Sebastian that you hadn’t seen the bigger picture—the twisted web she had spun around you both. You felt like a marionette, dancing to her strings, and the weight of your helplessness crashed down on you.

“And trust me, darling, I plan to keep it that way. The game has just begun, and you’re the perfect player. Let’s see how long you last.”

With that, she stood up, brushing off her clothes with a dismissive gesture. “I’ll be watching, of course. You won’t be able to escape me, not when I’m always just a step away, waiting for you to make your next move.”

As she turned to walk away, her laughter echoed behind her, a haunting reminder of the chaos she had unleashed in your life. You felt the tears finally spill over, hot and angry, as the weight of betrayal and loss crashed down around you.

The heavy silence of the dimly lit store enveloped Allison as she stepped through the door, the creak of the hinges echoing through the darkness. The air felt thick, laden with anticipation, and she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her. The usual comforting scents of paint and wood shavings were replaced by an unsettling stillness that set her on edge.

“Painter?” She called, her voice slicing through the gloom, only to be met with silence. She squinted, trying to make out any shapes in the shadows, but the darkness felt alive, shifting around her as if it were aware of her presence.

A moment later, a soft click broke the stillness as a solitary bulb flickered to life, casting a weak glow across the room. Painter sat behind the counter, his features partially obscured in shadow, but the intensity of his gaze was unmistakable. He leaned forward, his hands clasped around a canvas and some expensive painting tools as he sketched, and the tension in the air thickened.

“Well?” He asked, his voice low and steady. He didn't bothered to even glance at her. “How did it go?”

Allison stepped closer, her heart racing with a mix of exhilaration and trepidation. “It went exactly as I planned.” She replied, a smirk creeping onto her lips. “She’s fragile, Painter. Perfectly broken, just like we wanted. The meeting was… enlightening.”

Painter’s expression remained unreadable, but the way he tilted his head indicated he was hanging on her every word. “Enlightening how?” He pressed, his voice sharp.

“She is ready for the next step.” Allison continued, the thrill of her deception washing over her like a warm wave. “I spun the tale beautifully—she’s drowning in despair. I made sure to emphasize how she was the one left behind, how she had been played all along.”

“Good.” Painter replied, nodding slowly. “You have her right where we need her. But what about your end of the bargain? You have what you promised me?”

Allison laughed, a sound laced with a hint of darkness. “Of course. Everything is in place. I took care of the evidence. The hair samples, the clothes. No one will ever suspect a thing. It’s all beautifully orchestrated, just like a well-crafted film.”

Painter’s eyes gleamed with interest, and he leaned back, a satisfied smile slowly spreading across his face. “You’ve truly outdone yourself, Allison. I knew I could count on you to bring chaos to life.”

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “It’s just another day in our little game, isn’t it? But let’s be clear: I’m not here to play forever. I want my reward.”

“You’ll get it.” Painter assured her, his tone serious now. “But remember, the game isn’t over yet. There’s still more to be done.“

“I’m already steps ahead,” Allison replied, her confidence bubbling over. “She has no idea who’s really pulling the strings. With Sebastian out of the picture, and with me in her life pretending to the enemy, I can manipulate her emotions. It’s a beautiful arrangement.”

“Just ensure she doesn’t catch on too quickly.” Painter cautioned, a warning lacing his words. “Her grief could turn into something more dangerous if she realizes she’s being played.”

Allison waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about that. I know how to handle her. Besides, she’s already broken. It won’t take much to keep her under my control.”

“Good.” Painter said, satisfaction evident in his voice. “Let’s keep her that way. I have plans for her, and we need her to stay in line.”

As the weight of their conversation settled around them, a shared understanding ignited in the darkness. They were both architects of chaos, and together they would build a world that thrived on manipulation and deceit.

Allison stepped back, a grin spreading across her face. “This is just the beginning, Painter. I can’t wait to see how this unfolds.”

Painter leaned back in his chair, a gleam of malice in his eyes. “Neither can I. But remember, the shadows are watching, and we must stay one step ahead. Let’s make sure that the show goes on.”

With that, the two conspirators shared a knowing glance, the darkness of the store wrapping around them like a cloak, sealing their plans in the hushed stillness of the night. The game was far from over, and they were ready to play.

In the dim, cluttered backroom of the art studio, the air was thick with an oppressive silence, broken only by the soft scratching of Painter’s pencil against the canvas. Each stroke was deliberate, each line imbued with a manic energy that crackled like electricity in the air. As he meticulously worked on capturing your likeness, the glee within him grew, bubbling to the surface like a sinister tide.

The whole sequence of events had been a carefully choreographed dance, an intricate play penned solely by him. From Allison’s arrival at the café to the shocking announcement of Sebastian’s (faked) death, every detail had been crafted with precision, each moment calculated to elicit the maximum emotional response from you. It was all part of his grand design—a masterpiece of manipulation that he reveled in as if it were the finest work of art.

Painter leaned back, admiring his handiwork, his heart racing with a mixture of excitement and something darker. Yes, he was in love with you, utterly and completely, to the point where he would twist the very fabric of reality itself to ensure you would see him as your savior. For him, love had morphed into an obsession, one that transcended the boundaries of morality and reason. He had watched from the shadows as you and Sebastian grew closer, the connection between you blooming like a flower in spring, and it had driven him to the edge of madness.

The red strings of fate, which folklore claimed intertwined the lives of soulmates, had become a web of control and manipulation in his mind. He had to act before it was too late, before you were irrevocably lost to Sebastian. That was when he had reached out to Allison, a face from your past, and transformed her into the perfect pawn in his game.

“Skilled, wicked, and naive.” He murmured to himself, a cruel smile spreading across his lips as he remembered the lengths he had gone to secure her loyalty. He had paid her handsomely to infiltrate your life, to steal Sebastian from you, to take your identity, your streaming account, your very essence. It was all too easy to convince her that she was invincible under his protection, too blind to see the truth—that she was nothing more than a tool, a disposable piece in his elaborate scheme.

Painter’s thoughts raced, the joy of his manipulation coursing through him. The climax of his plan had been the final confrontation with Allison, the dramatic reveal that would shatter the illusion she had created. It had all been a performance, rehearsed to perfection. He had relished the moment, watching as her bravado crumbled and the reality of her situation settled in like a heavy fog. She had believed she was in control, but he had orchestrated every twist and turn, and now the stage was set for her downfall.

Yet, despite all his efforts, there was one unexpected variable—your unwavering loyalty to Sebastian. Painter had believed that once he exposed Allison, you would run to him, your savior, the one who had seen the truth beneath the layers of deceit. But you had returned to Sebastian instead, drawn back to the very man he had orchestrated the demise of. In that moment, rage ignited within him, a blazing inferno that threatened to consume everything he had built.

There was no other choice; Sebastian had to go. The thought danced through his mind like a dark melody, sweet and intoxicating. Painter was rich, clever, and dangerously unhinged. He had the resources to make anything happen, to erase any obstacle that stood in his way. It was an easy task to hire the right people, to ensure that the nine murders he orchestrated would lead the trail of blame directly to Allison.

With a deep, shuddering breath, he recalled how he had twisted her mind, making her believe she was untouchable. She would take the blame for everything, painted as the guilty party in a crime that was all his doing. It was a beautiful, tragic irony that thrilled him; the naïve little pawn would never see it coming. The moment she was caught, the world would believe her to be the real villain, and he would be the silent spectator, the mastermind hiding in plain sight.

But Sebastian? He would not be lost to the world. No, he had arranged for his dear friend to become a living test subject for Urbanshade, a dark experiment that would keep him alive, twisting in the shadows. Painter’s smile widened as he imagined the day you would finally see through the fog of lies and betrayal, when you would recognize him as the one who truly cared for you, the only one who had ever understood you.

“Soon.” He whispered, a predatory glint in his eyes, “You will see me, and then all will be right in this world I’ve created.” The canvas before him captured not just your face but the very essence of his twisted love, a love that would stop at nothing to ensure you were his and his alone.

As he continued to sketch, the darkness of his intentions wrapped around him like a cloak, and he couldn’t help but feel that, in this sinister game of puppets, he was the true artist. Each line, each shadow, was a testament to his genius—a dark narrative that would soon unfold, revealing the depths of his obsession and the horrifying lengths to which he would go to have you in his grasp.

Painter had played everyone. Sebastian, Allison, and especially YOU.

#roblox pressure #sebastian solace #pressure #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #pressure x reader #sebastian solace fanfic #streamer au

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hermit-lover · 1 year ago

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PLATONIC REQUEST (If you include any romance I will be sad.) Reader who is adventurous and curious, loving science and fantasy in equal measure—so long as no one tries to misapply them and claim falsehoods are factually true or that stories always need to be scientifically perfect. Intentionally tries to pick up lots of skills. Innocent and childish. Intelligent, but uses internal fact checking to discern lies, which obviously has limitations when trying to determine if someone is lying about *themself.* Reader is friends with Scar and/or Etho. (So, personally, those two are my favorites right now, and I wish I could be friends with both of them. Approximately everyone who knows me in Real Life is unsurprised by this, because both of them are a type of person I like, and both of them have traits I like and want to cultivate in myself. 🤷‍♀️ Or at least, everyone would be unsurprised if I were the type of person to talk about having squishes [that's the word for wanting to be friends with someone, like a platonic crush] but I tend to keep my emotions about myself to myself, so only a few actually know.) Anyway, I think that the differences between Etho and Scar can be really interesting. Of course, you can choose to only include one of them in the resulting Reader Insert story, if asking for two Hermits is too much, or you don't feel familiar enough with one of them to write for them, etc. Other than the Reader being friends with one or both of the requested characters, you can have a lot of free will in the type and genre of the piece. Want to write silly fun times? I'm down! Want to write an adventure piece? Those are some of my favorites! Want to write about Reader helping the selected character(s) (or vice versa?) Sounds good to me! In the mood to write angst or hurt/comfort? I'll accept that too! Anyway, if this was all too long, or too vague, or too dull, or you have any questions—you can message me and ask questions or request that I send in a better request myself! 😅 Thank you for your time, consideration, and potential writing!

Fetching Wood!

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

Character: Ethoslab x Reader, GTWS x Reader.

Type: Blurb (~2k)

Theme: Platonic

Summary: Unsurprisingly, attempting an adventure on the HermitCraft server attracts shenanigans.

TW: brief swearing.

A/N: I hope I did your ask justice!! These two are so silly together and so adventure awaits. :)

The chirping of birds drifts through the ajar window, letting in the sounds of morning calamity and the gentle breeze that brings with it the scent of deep woods and dirt. Your cluttered desk stands proudly in front of you, stacks of intricate designs meticulously sketched, bottles of experimental potions, gadgets, gears, suspicious white powder, and ink spattered across the solid dark oak. It was your workshop- or at least part of it. At the moment you are preoccupied from tinkering, rather you squint at the mess of your storage trying to decide what exactly this trip warrants.

You see, your build, a large wizard-esc tower and subsequent dungeons was a rather demanding feat, and with your newfound appreciation for the Nether woods and brick, you needed a trip to Nether.

It was much to your surprise that when casually discussing the idea with those surrounding you, your neighbor Etho was quick to jump aboard. Apparently he too needed a restock on warped logs and mushrooms, and was more than happy to tag along to make the process more enjoyable.

It was always exciting seeing the ivory haired man, so many Hermits (including yourself) looked up to him.

With the whole HermitcraftTCG and Decked Out craze of last season he was a hard man to come across besides fleeting moments in games. You would be lying if you said you weren't eager to impress. Tucking another fire resistant potion (you can never be too sure) you sigh and check the time.

No...it couldn’t be that hour already...

Snatching up your backpack and skittering towards the door of your starter-starter base (something you will be tearing down) you made it out into the grass. You were so smart when it came to inventions you'd think you would be a little more aware of the time- but unfortunately not. Being late was an reality you lived with often. Snatching the reins of your beloved horse Millennium, you place a foot in the stirrup and very nearly faceplant off of the other side of his torso. He lets out a vibrating huff and you pout.

“Cmon, I can't have a horse making fun of me.” You scoff, rightening in the saddle. The horse doesn't comment back, shaking out its mane and beginning to trot. You ease Millennium into a canter, riding with practiced ease through the forest towards your neighbor.

It's a bright and sunny day, the wind whipping across your face and tugging at your clothing where it is free from the confines of your armor. You had asked Cleo and Stress to help in making a perfect outfit to combine the high fantasy of the wizard tower with the stylish ease of a scientist. You say they have done wonderfully. Despite not actually having a tower to call home yet, you were eager to leap into the aesthetic.

Spotting the gorgeous blue ceiling you broke into a grin, pressing a bit harder to have your horse break into a dash. Leaping over a small creave you break into the clearing, spotting the man of hour leaning against the side of the portal- a full one with corners and all of course. He straightens at your sudden appearance, watching you with careful eyes- You stand up in the stirrups, throwing a leg over and slowing the horse to let you jump off. Millennium whinnies and turns, slowing to blink at you. You hit the ground with a small ‘oof!’ knees bending to not topple over.

“Tadaaa!” You wiggle in the ever-corny jazz hands, watching his expression crinkle into a smile. His light chuckle makes you beam in pride.

“Woooow what an entrance.” Etho claps slowly, muffled by his fingerless gloves. It was almost sarcastic but it amused him nonetheless. “Almost makes up for the fact you're late- huh?” He prods, clearly in a teasing manner. You pout.

“Only by-” You check your watch. “Half an hour!” It's defensive, but you stick your tongue out to show no harm.

“Mhm, still late.” He turns sharply on his heels, now facing the portal. “We better start moving so we still have daylight!”

“It’s 9:30, plus we’re going to Hell- No sunlight there.” You quickly tie up Millennium, taking a tic to admire the build. Pacing quickly to catch up beside him, you note vaguely that he didn't move, instead throwing a coy smile (Hermits got used to only reading his eyes) down at you before stepping into the swirling purple depths. It was always nauseating, the world thrown off kilter and shapes fluttering behind your eyes. Then the pure heat- it prickles your palms immediately with sweat and makes you wipe them on your pants as you step out onto the odd red stone, slightly squishy under foot. It was an eyesore as always, the usual red cavern punctuated by glowing portals and scattered cobblestone paths.

“Sooooo.” You drawl, turning to face him- he looks odd in the environment. Pale skin and stark haired reflecting the orangish hues of ever-burning fire. Greens of his outfit reminding you much of the holiday season. “Lead the way captain.” You prompt- the notification of ‘Going deeper’ noting your lack of experience in this particular world. He chuckles, but sets off, picking around fires and large craters. You follow to a tee, analyzing the scenery in an attempt to memorize it for later. You've almost committed this well populated spawn area when a panicked scream breaks through the crackling silence. Jumping out of your skin you launch towards Etho- sword drawn. But that scream…It wasn't a ghast-

“NO NO IM SORRY I KNOW I FORGOT GOLD JUST SPARE A SCAR ONE SECOND!-” Hightailing from around a corner the offender nearly knocks into you, letting out a yelp. Scar’s eyes are wide, his expression that of pure terror, cheeks dusted in the same red dust as the scenery. A tic goes by as you open your mouth to speak, at the same moment he realizes you're friendly, dashing to cower behind you. The sound of a crossbolt loading pulls your attention from the man. The piglin snorts, eyes narrowed in bloodlust, weapon drawn as it searches for presumably Scar. Tattered tunic and scraped golden boots. You and Etho had planned accordingly- a gold dawning his boots as you opted for golden bracers- but a quick glance at Scar confirms he had in fact forgotten. Flicking your sword you swipe at the beast. Blade forcing it backwards. It squeals in surprise, having not seen you as a target. The crossbow rounds to your chest, you brace for pain. Then another blade cuts through the air. The piglin lets out one last squeal as it dissolves quickly into mist. Crossbow and leather toppling to the floor. You let out a breath and look to your savior with a pout.

“I totally had it handled!” You insist, poking him in the chest with a finger. It slides uselessly off of his iron chestplate. Etho blinks at you, then shakes his head.

“Uh no, you were totally doomed and in need of a strong PvPer to defend you.” his quirked head shows his comfortable ease, and it warms you that he liked bantering. Too bad you were about to murder him.

“Oh? Do you know one I can bring next time?” You ask, batting your eyelashes innocently. He gawks.

“Oohhh!-”

“This is fun and all but do you have any food and gold I can borrow?” You had forgotten about him. Turning to Scar you flash him a grin, digging in your pockets for food.

“Didn't expect to save a charming Scar this fine morning.” You chuckle, offering some of the steak you gathered to his shaking hands.

“Well I didn't expect to be in peril- I knew I had forgotten something!” He eagerly crams the food into his mouth, chewing as he talks around the bite. “Good thing Etho came to save me.” It's a tease- but you still squawk.

“hEY-!” The unholy noise grates your throat, and causes him to nearly choke on the mouthful, swallowing hard to avoid choking. His muffled giggles tug a smile to your lips. “You're an ass.” You spit, turning sharply away from him. “And to think I was going to share my bracers. Guess not!”

“Wa-Wait!” Scar stumbles to bump against your back, straightening himself to not invade your space too much. “You wouldn't leave a helpless scar all on his own?” His voice tilts into a whine, widening his eyes to plead. You scoff, gesturing vaguely to Etho.

“You have an Etho, isn't he enough for you?” You snark back, Scar is silent. He sulks to the Canadian, throwing an arm across his shoulder to begin his sales pitch.

“Ethhooo my buddy, you wouldn't happen to have some gold I could borrow?” Scar tries, offering a meek smile to the taller man. Etho hums, tilting his head to peer across the blazing landscape.

“Nope.” He pops the p, eyes squinting into what must've been a shit-eating grin. Scar groans, letting his knees buckle in exaggerated disappointment. Etho shifts to slow his descent, the uniformed man sliding helplessly to the red floor.

“Need me yet?” You call, shifting to spin and stare at the off pair. Scar groans again, but lifts his arms to grabby-hands. Splitting into a grin you trot towards him, sliding off one golden clasp. His fingers barely brush the surface before you snatch it away. “Nuh uh!- you gotta say I’m better than Etho.”

“Hey!” Now it was Etho's turn to protest, placing a hand on his hip. “You can't make Scar lie.”

“Then I guess he won't get any gold.” You shrug, Scar sputters. Using Etho as a pole to claw his way back up.

“Uh- I didn't say that, I think you're incredibly talented and definitely better than any old Etho.” He smiles, flashing his teeth. You hum now, swinging the gold bracer around. Scar winces every time it nearly slips from your grasp.

“Yea alright.” You toss the accessory and he lunges for it, fumbling for a few moments before managing a firm grasp.

“Oh thank you kind and generous-”

“Alright, that’s enough horsing around, we are already running behind schedule.” Etho interrupts, trotting back on path. You groan in childlike disobedience, but follow along. Scar stumbles to catch up.

“What are you guys doing?” He asks, keeping pace but tucking close to the protection of your side.

“Fetching wood.” You answer, giving him a nudge. “What were you up to?”

“Oh! Same here!” Scar answers confidently. You give him a once over. He doesn't appear to have even successfully made it to the biome, judging by the lack of mycelium on his boots. Raising an eyebrow skeptically he chuckles. “Well I was going to…”

“There's always space for another.” Etho butts in, clasping him on the shoulder. “Even if the role is just the goof.”

You giggle, causing Scar to shoot you a glare.

“I am more than just that!- I can be the entertainment, have you seen the most recent news about Mando?-”

You grin, a small excited noise leaving your throat. Etho groans loudly, retreating a safe distance to let you geek out. He knows the consequences of getting too close, being dragged into full body renditions of scenes.

Despite the blistering heat and hostile atmosphere, a few friends never fail to lighten the mood. You always feel safer when tucked between their shoulders, endless chatter filling the air. And maybe some shenanigans and mishaps occur along the way- but that's the fun of HermitCraft.

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft x reader #hermitcraft fandom #hermitblr #atlas writes #hermitcraft fic #hc s10 #hc s10 spoilers #goodtimeswithscar #gtws hermitcraft #gtwscar #gtws #gtws x reader #ethoslab #hermitcraft etho #etholabs #etho x reader

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alelathedragon · 2 months ago

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What a Crowd!

@rtv-puzzlevision-studios

The art department

Yes yes yes!!! The vote was leading them right to the Art Department!! Tail spinning around like a ceiling fan, it was a good thing he was mostly invisible so he didn't smack anyone with it.... Looking over the crowd make their way towards the decorative stairs, Loyboo giggled to themsleves

'It'd be funny to push someone over the edge of those things haha!!'

Boos lived off mischief after all!! Their innocent little shy demeanor was only a fraction of what this little creature did. However... Their behavior stayed in tact, dont need to cause Mr.St.... damnit- RTV trouble on this big day, itd be rude to push someone over the edge no matter how pushable some of these people looked

A literal child with brown hair skipping along with the crowd and yet looking so bold

@entityarts

Some cat like fellow with a floating head and top hat, it just made the creature wonder if he would pop apart like a lego set and crumble onto the floor if he was ever so slightly nudged.

@mrtophat518

A dra.... A DRAGON!!

@fenicearts420

A real dragon!! Coooooool!!!! Haha! The only dragons he had ever seen were Bowser and the Koopalings. They were dragon-esc but not like this!! One with wings!! Truly magnificent...

She did a quick, very messy sketch of the human figure which the beast shapeshifted into next... Maybe... She should try and talk to people.... Make some friends, actually have fun! Like uh... He was told to try and do X,D

But that would mean going up to people and interrupting their conversations to try and involve himself... which was unfortunate because there were people he wanted to talk to!!

This odd floating creature with clawed feet and hands going around with a cackle, their suit was super cool and their eyes were wicked! Who doesn't love swirly crazy eyes? Loyboo wanted to approach but that person seemed busy already

@grinnames

There was another person with a TV head! There seemed to be multiple actually ..... But the one to catch Loyboos attention was this bright pink one that displayed glasses on their screen. They were adorable looking! Sure they looked puntable like a lot of the other guests here but Loyboo wanted to talk to them too.... However couldnt bring himself to approach, what if all TV heads had mind control powers that activated when you looked at them? Loyboo dipped his head and continued following the crowd

@kuromipuzzles2000

As they entered the Art Department... The boo found himself next to another fidgeting mess of a person, a mask upon their face. White hair with red highlights, fidgeting hands.

The boo tilt his head 'another boo? ... No... I dont feel energy coming off them other than their overwhelming anxiety. Me too buddy. Its exciting yet terrifying isnt it?'

He thought to himself a small giggle escaping him as he decided to stay near this individual

" so uh.... Art.... It's pretty cool right ? "

@pat-n-atty (dont feel obligated to reply uwu)

He looked back to the crowd ahead and realized how much of the tour he zoned out of! SHIT-

“The Art Department is responsible for all the designs you see around the studio from merchandise to websites although the latter with the help of the Social Media Department! In general we always work closely together with other departments. For example also with the Film Department when it comes to ads!”, Colores now continued, raising a finger. “Among other things we also take care of the fanmail.”

Loyboo locked in and paid attention the best he could, it was still hard even with how ungodly pretty RTV and this new woman were......,,,,,, damn... He missed the ladies name, it'll pop up again right?

“Ah, of course! My bad, I got sidetracked…”, Colores meanwhile answered sheepishly, before moving on to a second table where stacks of plushies were piled up. “Well, I mentioned before that our department is responsible for the merch designs, so I thought: Hey, why not give something to you guys?”

Wait huh? They're going to get a plushie!!! tail whipping at 1million miles per hour again, he already had a bunch of merch that he'd bought on his own but these things were still rather pricey sometimes! Especially for a Boo who couldn't keep a job,,, ah ha- which plushie was she missing from her collection... Just 1 plushie..... He mulled over it for a little while ending up falling behind once again... But he decided on a Saiko plushie! Rare, limited time, and another hard headed hero type for Loyboo to play dolls around with and have her RTV plushie defeat in plushie wars >:]

Gaze back at the crowd... Ah... They were already leaving? But he still had so many questions...

Where did the inspiration come from? Or... What was his original inspiration before he became famous and what are his future artistic goals? Without spoiling the movies of course! How did the department work? What happened in here during the creative process?

Writing down each question in his sketchbook since the tour was currently on its way out of the department... Maybe he could ask the man himself later.... Doubt it.....

Maybe...

He could stay a little bit and ask.... What was it.... He heard her name

Coloers? Colores? Colouers?

God he was bad with names :,)

Maybe Loyboo could ask her questions. She seemed approachable

Looking at one of the guards... He doubted that would slide unless his entire group wanted to also stay and ask questions....

But he wasnt about to ask.... So he simply ducked his head with a sigh and held tight to his sketchbook, catching up to the group once more. Another vote?

Uhm..... The Film Studio he supposed

Maybe they could ask some real questions this time

#mr puzzles #smg4 mr puzzles #mr. puzzles #smg4 au #rtv puzzles #rtvtour25 #traditional art #writing #loyboo #boo sona #awkward little fucko

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yiffos-official · 9 months ago

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does anyone have any idea why on my desktop i need to press <esc> twice for it to work? regardless of program.

I have to do it most often on discord, nvim, and firefox (trydactyl). it's literally every time, too.

I don't have the same issue on my laptop, which has the same stack (gdm, cosmic-epoch). Can anyone think of some goofy shit i could have dicked w 2 cause this?

help me -official blogs, ur my only hope <3

#tech support #linuxposting #linux #linuxpostinggirlfriendsposting

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can-of-pringles · 2 months ago

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When I'm Alone with You - Chapter 18

Rating: Gen

Warnings: None, just some small amount of angst maybe.

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Silas has something he wants to tell Copia.

Note: First chapter of 2025! Sorry, it took so long. I've been enjoying this new era of Ghost for the most part. However, any sort of retcon about the pre-established lore with Primo, Secondo, and Terzo going from being Nihil's sons to his brothers won't apply to any of my Ghost AU lore. And I still haven't quite figured out what to do with Perpetua in my story, but it's okay since we're not even close to that in the fic.

After their last late-night talk, they started to visit each other more and more, changing up their routine. Most of the time, they took turns visiting each other’s rooms. It wasn’t that difficult, seeing as they were across from each other.

Copia never mentioned it, but he preferred Silas’ place. He always managed to keep it clean and tidy, comforting; it felt like a home. That was something Copia struggled with for his living quarters. Stacks of papers everywhere, a pile of clean clothes that needed to be put away, spare boxes that he couldn’t bring himself to throw away in case he needed to store stuff in them. Slowly, over time, he began improving these habits.

Copia balanced the phone between his shoulder and head, trying to hide the boredom in his tone the longer the call went on. Sister Imperator recovering meant more phone calls falling on him. No matter how many times he had to handle them, there was always an ounce of nerves fluttering around inside.

A gentle knock at the door snapped him out of the dull routine. He glanced up, quickly muttering a ‘come in’ as his call was thankfully coming to an end.

He immediately smiled, seeing Silas standing there. Silas mouthed what looked to be ‘bad time?’ Copia held up a finger, trying to signal he needed just another minute.

Silas quietly closed the door behind him, leaning against it. He stuck his hands in his pockets, glancing away. He couldn’t understand what the Cardinal was saying anyway, the other person on the phone and he speaking what sounded like Italian.

Eventually, Copia spoke in a goodbye-esc tone, hanging up and placing the phone back in its cradle. He had his elbows on the desk, hands neatly folded as he looked at Silas, giving him his full attention.

“Did you need something, Silas?” He tilted his head. “Sorry, still in business mode.” He chuckled shortly, relaxing his shoulders somewhat. “What’s up?”

He tried hiding his brief concern as he studied how Silas was behaving. He kept glancing away, not standing tall. At one point, he crossed his arms. Usually, he was calm and assured. But now… something was bothering him. Copia wasn’t sure what.

“I just wanted to ask if we could meet at my room tonight…? Instead,” Silas spoke.

“Any particular reason? Not that I’m picky or anything, I’m just curious.” Copia fidgeted with a pen in-between his fingers.

Silas’ gaze seemed to dart around the room for a second. He cleared his throat. “Well… I guess there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you. I, um, thought tonight like usual would be good… but I felt… I don’t know. I just wanted to do it at my place. I would feel… better about it.”

Copia’s brows furrowed, his concern growing. “Oh, um, okay. If that would make you feel better, then sure. I don’t mind. Are you sure it’s not something you’d want to tell me now?”

He was silent for longer than Copia expected, clearly thinking over his words. Finally, he sighed. “No, but thank you. I’d like to wait until later, when we’re both off work.”

“So… it’s not about work, then?”

Silas shook his head.

Copia tried hiding his frown, becoming more curious about what this big supposed talk was about. Though there was also a feeling of worry spreading through his mind. What if he’d somehow figured it out? What if he knew the secret behind the sudden disappearance of the Papas? His mouth felt dry. What if he’d figured it out and never wanted to see him again?

“Are… you okay, Silas?” Copia stammered slightly, reaching for the glass of water on his desk. He took a sip and placed it back down. “Did something happen?”

“Oh, um, I’m alright. Sorry, I'm realizing now I’m probably scaring you.” He chuckled shortly, trying to downplay his anxiety. “It’s probably not that big of a deal, but anyway, I was just letting you know that I wanted to talk at my place tonight.”

“So… everything’s fine?”

Silas swallowed and shrugged a little. “Yeah. I’ll tell you later.”

He refrained from frowning and nodded, glancing down for a second. “Cool, alright.”

Right as Silas was about to say something else, the phone on the desk rang loudly again.

Copia grumbled in annoyance and muttered, Sorry. Silas gave him a little thumbs up as he went to leave, allowing him to answer the phone.

---

Copia ignored the pit feeling in his stomach as he held up his hand to knock on Silas’ door. It wasn’t as late as some of their recent talks had been, so he still had his Cardinal makeup on, something he was glad about. Though he managed to dress down, wearing a worn-out black t-shirt, his red hoodie, and sweatpants.

He paused for a second, hesitating. He swallowed, chewing on his bottom lip.

“It’s just Silas. You have nothing to fear. Come on, knock already.” He thought.

After what felt like forever, he knocked, slightly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited.

Silas answered the door. He had on a soft-looking t-shirt that had illustrations of potted plants and ferns. As well as a pair of shorts, knitwear type. Overall, he looked comfy, like he was getting ready for bed, but not quite ready to fall asleep.

Copia struggled to read the expression on his face. Sure, normally it was somewhat difficult to read expressions, but it seemed as if Silas was purposely keeping his face blank, trying to protect his inner thoughts, perhaps. Though it didn’t last for long, he relaxed slightly.

“Hi,”

“Hi.” Copia nearly forgot for a moment about how potentially serious their chat would be, distracted by the soft smile on Silas’ face.

“Come in, I made coffee. Don’t worry, it’s decaf.” Silas opened his door a little more.

Copia blinked, remembering he needed to say something instead of just continuing to look at him. “Oh, uh, thanks. And coffee sounds good,”

He walked in and moved to sit down on the couch, watching as Silas grabbed a couple of mugs from his kitchenette. He held out his hands when Silas carefully handed him a mug. Steam was coming off of it, and the aroma was sweet. Copia took a sip and sighed, his shoulders dropping tension.

“Good?” Silas asked, sitting opposite him. “I added that creamer you like.”

“Yeah, it’s really good. Thank you.” He smiled.

Copia took another sip and then lowered the mug from his face, nervously tapping the side of it with his nails. He glanced down, his lips pressing into a fine line. He could’ve just sat in silence with Silas the whole night, drinking coffee, but he knew that wasn’t why he was there.

Silas took a drink and set his cup down on the side table next to him. He glanced down at his hands, fidgeting. He sighed and cleared his throat. “So… I was thinking to get the hard part out of the way first, and then hopefully we could just relax like usual. Is that okay?” he sounded somewhat stilted. As if he had been rehearsing this in his head, yet still not quite nailing the delivery.

Copia’s heart hammered in his chest. He found it hard to look into his eyes. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Yeah, that’s fine with me.”

Silas swallowed and gathered his thoughts. Right as he was about to speak, Copia interrupted him.

“Did I do something wrong?” he squeaked out.

There had been times in his life when he had said the wrong thing or hurt someone accidentally. Though it would be a while before he realized, learning that people would rather be passive-aggressive with him instead of speaking their minds. Copia learned that although it was a confrontation of sorts, it was better to just ask if something had happened.

Silas looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “No! No, you’re good!” He sighed and groaned, running his hands down his face. “I’m sorry, you’ve probably been worried about this all day. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Oh,” Copia muttered. He frowned lightly, more confused than anything. “I’m here to listen and talk if you need it... You’ve been there for me, so it’s only fair I do the same for you.”

Silas had a small smile on his face. It disappeared when he furrowed his brows, thinking over what he wanted to say.

“It’s just that… we’ve been friends for several months now. And so, I, um, felt like it was time to tell you something…” He kept his eyes trained on his clasped hands. “Just that…”

Copia tried appearing relaxed despite his nerves going haywire. What was he going to say? Something good? Bad? His mind instinctively went to worst-case scenarios, but he attempted to silence them. Surely if it was something terrible, Silas wouldn’t have even wanted him over at his place. Right?

“That I’m trans,” Silas forced the words out. He avoided Copia’s gaze, nervous to see his reaction. He had lost count of how many times he’d come out to people, but it never got any easier.

Copia let out a breath of relief. “Oh, thank goodness. You had me scared.” He placed his hand on his chest.

Silas’ eyes widened in surprise, staring at him in shock.

“I’m sorry, I should, um, should’ve started that sentence with a bit more… um… tact,” Copia stammered. “That is a-okay with me. Thank you for telling me, I feel, um… honored? If that’s the right word.”

Silas looked at him. “So… you’re okay with it?”

“Yeah, of course. It would be weird of me not to be. The Clergy is extremely supportive and open to people who don’t exactly ‘fit the norm,’ so to speak. I was raised believing that.”

“Oh, okay. Huh,” Silas processed his words.

“Am I coming off too strong?” Copia grimaced, shrinking back in his seat.

“No, no. I guess… I just had something built up in my head because I was so worried about what your reaction would be… though I don’t know why I’m surprised, Sister Imperator knows and is fine with it, and you know how she is.” Silas explained, resting his face in the palm of his hand.

“I understand.” Copia gave him a sympathetic smile. “Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?”

Silas leaned back in his seat, visibly seeming more relaxed. “Well, I always felt different as a kid, but I could never figure out why. Now I know it’s due to being queer and having a brain that works differently than most people, but anyway, I finally figured out I was trans in my early teens…”

“My family was supportive for the most part and helped me transition. I don’t usually tell people unless I really trust them or have known them for a while, since I pass pretty well. I thank my family’s tall genes every day.” He chuckled shortly, telling a joke to lighten the mood. “I use he/him pronouns the majority of the time, but I am open to he/they as well… just so you know.”

“Also, I lied about the earrings thing before… they were pierced when I was a kid. It wasn’t a teenage act of rebellion or something. Sorry,” he added. “It’s just that most boys don’t get their ears pierced as kids… y’know?”

“I will definitely work on the other pronouns. And don’t feel bad about the earrings thing, it’s not that big of a deal.” Copia shrugged.

“Okay, cool.” Silas smiled, taking another drink. “That felt really good to get off my chest.”

“I bet. It’s hard keeping things secret…” He glanced away for a second.

“Did you have anything else on your mind?” Silas asked.

Copia kept his hands clasped, ignoring the urge to fidget. “I don’t know… I don’t want to take away from your moment, if that makes sense…” he spoke quietly.

“You’re fine. If you have something to share, I can listen.”

“Okay, fine, I guess since this seems like the time… I know it’s not the same, obviously, but I like men and women. And you know, everyone else outside of that. Just so you know…” Copia murmured somewhat shyly. He didn’t know why he felt bashful about it, especially since Silas just worked up the courage to tell him about his gender.

“Oh, okay, cool. Yeah, I guess I forgot to add that I like men,” Silas responded. “Sorry for saying cool like that before. I didn’t mean to be awkward about it.” The more nervous he got, the more words kept coming out of his mouth.

“If anything, I’m more awkward, so don’t worry,” Copia replied, smiling sheepishly.

“It’s not like it’s a competition,” Silas scoffed lightly.

They both chuckled, the tension leaving the room.

“The awkwardness… I don’t know. When I was younger, people used to say I was a ‘rat boy’ of sorts, and not just because I like rats, but people think I sort of… scurry? Or maybe I just give off such nervous, awkward energy.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “And just sort of… my facial features…” he muttered under his breath.

Silas knitted his brows, and he frowned. “Well, I don’t think you’re a rat boy, or that you scurry or anything mean like that. I’m sorry that people have said such awful stuff like that about you. It’s messed up. Seriously, Copia, only assholes would say someone acts or looks like a rat.”

Copia’s eyes widened. “Ah, okay. Thank you,” he said, taken aback.

“Sorry…” Silas glanced away.

“It’s fine… You’re just not usually the type, is all.”

“Yeah, I know. I tend not to, obviously, unless I guess I feel very strongly about something.” He shrugged.

Copia wanted to place his hand on Silas’, but he wasn’t in reach. “Thank you, though, really.”

Silas gave him a soft smile. “I still don’t get why people would say that stuff, though. The whole rat thing… It’s not true. You have this… certain charm to you. And I think it’s going to help once you start touring. Just saying.”

Copia felt his face heat up. He quickly took a drink of his coffee, nodding.

“Anyway… I was going to suggest watching some cute rat compilation videos before, but now it seems like that may not be the best choice…” Silas changed the subject.

“No, I don’t mind. You’re talking to the guy that has three of them, remember?” Copia said.

“You talk about them like they’re your children.” He lightly teased, tilting his head and smiling.

“Of course they are! I have the ultrasound pictures to prove it.” Copia joked, laughing.

Silas chuckled as well. “Let me go grab my laptop, and then we can watch some videos.” He got up from his seat, got the laptop off his dining table, and sat down next to Copia on the couch.

Copia couldn’t help but notice how close they were sitting, and suddenly remembered how he’d never seen Silas wearing shorts before.

“Why am I thinking about how soft the hair on his legs looks?! Shut up! Shut up! Weirdo.” He thought, scolding himself.

Once Silas had it set up and on the coffee table, he moved over a little, giving him space. “There we go.”

Copia ignored how he missed the warmth of sitting right next to him, instead focusing his attention on the video.

---

Copia awoke with a start. His eyes squinted, seeing Silas gently touching his shoulder. “Did I… fall asleep?”

“Yeah, I was going to wake you up at first, but I don’t know… You just seemed peaceful, and I know how tired you’ve been lately, having to juggle Cardinal work and Sister Imperator’s responsibilities, plus the upcoming tour… so I wanted you to get some rest,” Silas explained. “But it’s getting pretty late now, and I think you’d be more comfortable in your bed. I didn’t want your back to hurt the next morning.”

He seemed a little more alert. Silas was right, it was late. The window showed the pitch darkness from outside. Copia went to rub his eyes, but then remembered, stopping right before he could smudge the makeup.

“That’s another reason why I woke you… I can’t imagine it’s very comfortable sleeping in makeup,” Silas added.

“Yeah, it’s not. I’ve done it before due to busy nights and forgetting and all of that… and I’ve regretted it every time.” He yawned.

Silas gave him a sympathetic look. “I hope you’ve been finding time to take care of yourself during all of this.”

Copia softened, looking at his brown eyes. “I try to. Thank you, though, for caring.”

“Of course, what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?”

As much as he wanted to stay with him, Copia hesitantly got up from the couch, stretching and hearing a few pops as he did so. “Thank you for trusting me to talk about all this, and for being a good friend.”

Silas stood as well, smiling. “Yeah, of course, thank you.”

He walked with him to the door. Silas leaned against the wall as they said their goodbyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Try to get some rest.” Silas looked at him.

“Okay,” Copia said. He gave him a lazy smile, still a little out of it from the nap and feeling giddy at the same time.

Silas watched as Copia walked back to his room. They gave each other one last wave, and both closed their doors.

Once the door was closed, Copia leaned against it, sighing. He smiled, thinking about seeing Silas tomorrow.

Copia groaned in annoyance, facepalming. “Snap out of it. Friends shouldn’t think or feel like this… right? Either way… you’re being weird.”

He went to get ready for bed, too tired to deal with all of these complicated feelings and thoughts. That would be a problem for future Copia to deal with.

#the band ghost #ghost band #ghost #copia x oc #silas x copia #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #papa copia #ghost band oc #ghost oc #silas petersson #ghost band fic #ghost band fanfic #ghost band fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #my writing #pringles writing #pringles ghost verse

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art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament · 2 years ago

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SET FIVE - ROUND ONE - MATCH EIGHT

"Belfast to Byzantium" (2022 - Rita Duffy) / "Freedom" (2023 - Anastasia Trusova)

BELFAST TO BYZANTIUM: The photo is mine, because I couldn't find any online, but I really need everyone to appreciate the fact that this is 123x184 cm (48x72 in) and the red is much more intense in real life. The painting itself has this beautiful and horrific quality to it. The ship is packed full of people, emulating cruise ships, the titanic, slave ships, refugee boats. It is this awful mass of humanity, and a chaotic Bosch-esc vomitting of so many fears and tensions of our world.

It is a part of a tryptich, and I think this particular piece focuses much more on global warming, exploitation, and immigration. I feel like i can look at this piece for so long and i'm still seeing new things in it. It is something that makes you stand and stare for a solid few minutes. My personal favorite details are the people(souls?) in the smoke stacks, the way that the human form gets twisted and consumed to keep this terrible ship going. Similarly I think the hands in the water are fascinating, (again a titanic allusion), with a few swimmers, but most drowning. And that its the ship that these lightning esc veins are coming from, a ship that could save these drowning people, but instead seems to be hurting them more.

It just glows, and there is so much happening that I get pulled in whenever I look at it. (@travelingsmithy)

FREEDOM: i adore every piece of her work and honestly just wanted to nominate her on her own FJKGJFK but i think this one combines my obsession with her mastery over light and colour and depth and texture and AUGH idk as a very amateur acrylic painter myself i feel a bit crazy insane looking at this tbh.. to buy any original piece of her work is so expensive but i would lay down my life to own this. tbh. (@whimsicalpdf)

("Belfast to Byzantium" is a painting by Northern Irish artist Rita Duffy. It is held by the Crawford Gallery in Cork, Ireland. This photo was taken by the submitter!

"Freedom" is an acrylic on canvas painting by Anastasia Trusova. It measures 60 by 70 cm. (23.6 x 27.6 in))

#art that fucks you up tournament #polls #atfyu polls #id in alt text #cw horror #cw blood

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stories4eve · 3 months ago

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some tngoh kid ideas i got goin on on my head!!

weddingforest's kid could be called Stacked Cocoa Cake Cookie(since cocoa is a main ingredient in black forest cake. and cause yk. wedding cakes are usually tall 😭. alt names i got is Layered Cocoa Cake Cookie and Black Cherry Cake Cookie). idk if you want me to design him(he is an only/oldest kid so ykyk) but im thinking he'll take black forest's color scheme and wedding cake's appearance. fot personality, he'd probably have black forest's obsessive side(maybe yandre esc archetype??) but also wedding cake's passion and is heir to wedding cake's wedding planning business(lol)

Clottedgato(?)'s kid could be Cream Machiatto Cookie(or Cortado Cookie(the one i personally like the best). i dont wanna give him too much detail because i already did that with black cherry cake cookie or whatever his name will be but i do have some very simple ideas. he'd definitely be super reserved, but because his parents ARE affogato and clotted cream.. he'd be so full of himself. he'd have both horrible self esteem but also the most prideful little loser you've seen in your entire life.

also, choco truffle lore i made up during school that has yet to gain eve approval is that i think he'd be an assassin of some kind, finding justice in taking down tyrants and others of the sorts. i have a rough idea of how he got there(trying to find justice for his father or trying to understand justice or whatever) but yk. i also think he'd get a name like the golden-leaf assassin(silent as a leaf wafting in a breeze)

i hope this all makes senseee💥💥 feel free to ask stuff or change it with your magic touch lmao /silly

OKAY WOW THIS IS AN AMAZING GIFT TO WAKE UP TOO! OKAY SO LET ME UNPACK THIS! HONESTLY?.

ID HAVE TO GO WITH LAYERED COCOA CAKE COOKIE. IT JUST FITS THE VIBE YOU KNOW?? IN MY HEAD. I THINK HE ALSO DEFINITELY DRESSES LIKE BLACK FORREST TOO, EEIRE GOTHISH BUT ALSO A LITTLE BIT OF THE FRENCH INSPIRED STYLE FROM WEDDING CAKE COOKIE TOO STUFFED IN BETWEEN. NOT SURE HOW ID MANAGE TO MAKE THAT WORK, BUT I WILL!!

AS FOR THE CLOTTEDAFFO KID, CORTADO ACTUALLY SOUNDS LIKE THEIR NAMES COMBINED SO ILL GO WITH THAT TOO! AND YES, LITTLE PRIDEFUL LOSER WHOS EGO REALLY ONLY IS A PLAY FOR HIS CRUMBLING SELF ESTEEM. USALLY KEEPS TO HIMSELF, BUT WHEN YOU DO TALK TO HIM HES.. GOT THIS VIBE TO HIM YK? I ALSO THINK HES LIKE AMAZING WITH HIS WORDS AND CAN PERSUADE YOU INTO BUYING THINGS WHICH ONLY KINDA FILLS HIS ARROGANCE EVEN MORE.. ATLEAST TO WHAT HE SHOWS OTHER PEOPLE.. I imagine he kinda changes around Affogato, like he's honest with him a bit quieter but alot gentler.. I think OUGH BABY.

AND CHOCO TRUFFLES LORE???? HELLO THAT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE. I WONDER IF GOLDEN OR DARK CHOCO KNOW ABOUT THIS? DOES HE ALSO TECHNICALLY DO WORK FOR HIS AUNTIE?? THE WHOLE JUSTICE SEEKER THING TOO AUGH <//33 HE'D BE SUCH A GREAT ASSASIN TOO. SWIFT, PERCISE, QUICK, EASY. ALBEIT HIS DRAGON LIKE FEATURES ARE A LITTLE HARD TO HIDE WHEN HES TRYING TO BE STEALTHY, BUT THATS ALRIGHT!!

#cookie run #the next generation of heroes #cookie run ocs #fankids #eve rants!#IM COOKINH UP CORTADO AS WE SPEAK ACTU #I JUST NEEDED HIS NAME

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birdo-is-here · 6 months ago

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ooouuuuu more writing has struckkk 💥💥💥 Uriel pov timmeee !!!!!! ?!?!?!?!?

word count: 840~

warning for implied abuse!

Generally, as soon as the matters of a meeting were done, and the Seraphs and guests were all dismissed, the Archangels preferred to stay back — at least the few minutes, typically for casual chatter.

It was only a recent addition to the routine, but Uriel had to say they quite enjoyed it. They suspected many of the others enjoyed it as well, even Azrael — though they were typically the first to leave the balcony.

Behind Michael’s seat, a large piece of empty space sat, where Metatron had just been looming behind them all, watching silently. Judging, perhaps.

Michael seemed significantly calmer, now that the statue had left. The entire meeting, Uriel couldn’t help but notice how on edge he’d seemed; constantly fidgeting, completely restless in his seat. No one below the balcony would have noticed, at least, the Supreme Archangel was very good at keeping his voice level when he needed to.

Uriel wasn’t sure if anyone else on the balcony had noticed Michael’s false demeanour. They figured Raphael had; the Doctor seemed to cast glances at him periodically, as if checking on him.

Uriel couldn’t help but notice the bandages wrapped around Michael’s torso, under his robes.

“What is a mailman?” Phanuel suddenly asked, drawing the Guardians attention to the Messenger. They exhaled an amused breath. How ironic.

“It’s a man who delivers mail.” Azrael supplied.

“What’s a mail?”

“Another word for man.”

Hm. “No, not in this case. Mail is a form of communication that humans use to keep in touch from long distances. Through gifts, letters and other random junk.” Uriel corrected, before Phanuel could make a comment about men delivering men, “A man who delivers a man would be a taxi. Or something along those lines.”

Azrael gave a curious trill, while Phanuel gave an intrigued hum of a similar variety.

“What is junk?”

“Trash.” The Death once more supplied, a little more correctly this time.

“Ohh..”

Michael exhaled a breath near them. He usually wasn’t one to be a huge contributor to these chats; Generally Phanuel and Azrael lead that charge, but he was typically more… chatty than this, still. His gaze was turned downwards, a distant look in his eye.

Raphael seemed to be knitting something now, her attention fully elsewhere.

“What are you knitting?” Uriel asked the Doctor, who looked up as her focus was pulled back to the room.

“Oh, some of your Guardians requested a more… human-esc outfit. Supposedly to help with blending in, since they didn’t want to rob any stores,” Raphael responded, her hands stalling. The fabric was a dull pink; it seemed to be the beginnings of a sweater. Uriel gave a curious trill of acknowledgment.

“Tell them to rob the biggies all they want,” Azrael grunted, waving a dismissive hand, “all those corporate fucks care about is money, they can do with losing a bit of it.”

Raphael looked between Uriel and Azrael, “well, tell that to their own leader, not me.” And she continued her knitting, as the Death snuffed. Phanuel leaned over to Azrael, as if quietly asking them something, though he seemed to get shut down rather quickly.

“It’s not getting too in the way of your schedule, is it? I can ask them to find another way, if it’s easier,” Their eyes narrowed in mild concern.

The Doctor waved a dismissed hand. “No, it’s quite alright. I’m a little less stacked up these days, fortunately. I’m happy to give myself a hobby for the time being.”

The Guardian hummed, relaxing some amount. “Very well, then. Please, do tell me if you don’t have time, though.”

“Of course.”

Michael seemed to be getting restless again, Uriel noticed, claws scratching roughly at the arm of his chair, though his eyes stayed as distant as ever. Eyes narrowing in concern, the Guardian leaned over to the Soldier.

“Are you alright, love?” They lowered their voice, though they knew at least one person in the room would hear it anyway. Michael was suddenly brought back to the present time, his gaze swiftly turning to the other.

“Yes— Yes, I'm fine. Sorry.” He sounded a little sheepish, his voice softer than usual. Uriel produced a worried hum, but they didn’t try to prompt any further.

Eventually though, Uriel soon noticed that Michael had left his seat. They looked to the floor, figuring that was the next place he’d be, and sure enough, the Soldier was opening the doors to leave.

Why, he looked rather tired. He was slouched over a little, his eyes still rather distant and unfocused as he stepped out of the room. The doors closed quietly behind him.

This seemed to be a common pattern in that angel. Specifically, immediately or not long after a punishment has just occurred. Generally, the worst ones would leave him this unresponsive.

But the punishments in general had been getting more common recently. They didn’t know what exactly he was trying to prove, but clearly these consequences were wearing on him. They couldn’t say they weren’t worried.

#birdo babbles #birdo babbles for an extended period of time #angel goober shenanigans

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the-darkmatter-24 · 9 months ago

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#flight controller #esc stack #darkmatter #drone

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hauntingcryptids · 2 years ago

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New Attire

Dhawan!Doctor x Reader

Summary - The Doctor wants to show The Reader something he found, but you are too distracted by his new item of clothing.

Warnings - None that I know of (let me know if I missed something)

Word Count - 961

A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. Not Requested. Just another little thought that I had. I hope that you enjoy it.

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

The Doctor sent you a message in the middle of the night for you to wake up to. You had to persuade him into this new change. Usually, The Doctor would barge into your room in the middle of the night and drag you out of bed in order to show you the thing that excited him. But you were growing so tired in the middle of adventures that you had to change from the previous routine for your safety.

The Doctor’s message was a rambling maze of information about a new discovery in space and how much The Doctor missed you. It was sweet reading The Doctor’s love and care for you, even though you had only been asleep and away from him for about eight hours. Waking up to his little (or sometimes quite extensive) messages were always a joy to wake up to.

You got dressed and ready and headed toward the main library where The Doctor asked to meet you. Though, you briefly stopped by The TARDIS’s main kitchen and made a heavily caffeinated drink and some breakfast.

When you entered the library, you saw The Doctor roaming around a couple of tables that were completely covered with research papers, astronomical charts, and stacks of books. He was clearly ecstatic. Before he even saw you, The Doctor was jumping up and down and smiling widely whenever the weight of this new astronomical discovery would ping around his brain again.

You loved seeing him like this. Just The Doctor being himself. Completely in his element and no longer stressed by random enemies or The Master trying to destroy him again. Though one thing about the image before you had caught you off guard.

The Doctor was wearing a burgundy sleeveless sweater over his lilac button-down shirt. It looked cute on him, but you had never seen him in a sweater ever, let alone a sleeveless pullover. It seemed like something he would wear, but also this extra garment somehow made him look so much less Human, which you thought would have been a big feat.

“Y/n! There you are! I’ve been waiting for you for ages!” The Doctor was practically shouting with excitement. He bounded to you and gently placed his palm against the small of your back as he lead you to the table that he had set up with all of his research throughout the night. The Doctor, instead of actively talking about his discovery, was ranting about how he wished that you had been awake when he first came across the phenomenon. One thing you never expected about The Doctor is that he would be so romantic. It was a very Doctor-esc brand of romanticism, but he was incredibly romantic nevertheless. He was always wishing to experience new things and firsts with you. It was adorable. And you wished that you could focus on his affection, but, in your just-woken-up brain, you could help but focus on the outfit he wore today.

“What are you wearing?” You jokingly questioned as you sat on a nearby sofa after the previous conversation came to an end.

“A sleeveless sweater. Why?” The Doctor looked down at his outfit and ran a self-conscious hand down his chest.

“Since when did you wear pullovers? Especially sleeveless ones.”

“I wear them all the time actually. You just haven’t seen when I get cold.”

“You get cold!” You exclaimed, dramatically and sarcastically. The Doctor in this regeneration was constantly chilly. He was always asking his TARDIS to light a fire in fireplaces, always curled up in blankets, always hugging you and cuddling you for your warmth. Surprisingly though, he had never added a new layer of clothing to his outfit of choice, until today.

“Do you not like it?” The Doctor asked tentatively. Oh no! He was getting sad and insecure because of your questioning. That’s not what your intent was in asking about his sweater.

“I like it, I just wasn’t expecting you to wear something like that.” You tried to reassure him and explain, but The Doctor had already made up his mind about your opinion.

“You hate it.” The Doctor concluded in his anxiously rambling mind and slouched in sadness.

“Doctor.”

“I knew that you would hate it. I was stupid to think that you would like it.”

“Doctor.”

“Why did I even pull this stupid thing out of my wardrobe? I’m so stupid sometimes!”

“Doctor. Come here!” You reached your hands out to The Doctor and made a child-like grabbing motion with them. The Doctor slumped over to where you were now sitting and delicately, hesitantly, grasped your hands with his. The Doctor wouldn’t look you in the eye, but he made sure to tap the toes of his shoes against yours (a little act of intimacy he would always perform, no matter where he was or how upset he was).

“You look cute.

“Are you sure that I don’t look stupid or dorky?” The Doctor swung your clasped hands back and forth anxiously.

“Dorky yes, but never stupid.” The Doctor groaned and tried to walk away but you pulled him back to stand in front of you.

“No, you look cute, Doctor!”

“Promise?” The Doctor finally ventured a peek up at your face, but it was brief and timid.

“I promise!” You placed many kisses on The Doctor’s knuckles causing the old Time Lord to look away flustered. Despite being in a relationship for a while now, you never failed to fluster The Doctor. Even though he didn’t always know how to respond, The Doctor was always grateful for your reassurance.

“Do you want to see what I found?” The Doctor asked in a hopeful tone, finally looking back at you with restored confidence.

“Absolutely, Doctor!”

#ghost's posts #my writing #fanfiction #x reader #doctor who #doctor who x reader #the doctor #the doctor x reader #dhawan!doctor x reader #dhawan!doctor #fluff #blurb

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doktorpeace · 1 year ago

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Fiora the Lurantis, inspired by @girlnextvore's "Bug Brawl". Well I mean, she is a bug, right? I don't think I've ever made a gijinka before, but the core idea started from the baseline of "Scythe Fighter" and "Wears Chaps". A lot of Lurantis Gijinka I've seen in the past have been very shrine-maiden esc, and I wanted to do something different in the spirit of it being a hypothetical fighting game. I had a lot of fun designing her! She's a fighter that takes a bit to get going. Of the roster, she'd probably be the weakest at round start. Further, she has to sacrifice her normal range advantage to try and repeatedly land her short range 'Superpower' special move to apply a stacking buff. Once she gets going 'Solar Blade' is a super with match ending power! Once per match she can also enhance a special or super move with the Grassium Z in her scythe. Do you use it to compensate for her weakness at the start of a match or to make her win condition all the more oppressive? That's up to you!

#Pokemon #Lurantis #Pokemon Gijinka #My Art

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scoutisnthome · 9 months ago

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sereneverse,,,I have questions but mainly-what is the story? I'm intrigued *imagine me sitting in a business chair lmao*

Hello. Let me inform you. *posts up business presentation style*

Sereneverse is a story (primarily. there is other stuff too.) focusing on a region called the delta and the community of mutants that live there. The delta is the bottom layer of a cyberpunk esc tiered city called Echoana. It's the poorest of the layers and where all of the waste and pollution end up eventually. (Adding a read more because this is gonna be long. Read my scifi boy 🫵)

Most of the Delta belongs to a district called the stacks, tall stacks of ready-made room pods and shipping containers that serve as peoples homes. The people living in the delta, due to economic status and general lack of infrastructure, don't have much any sway on the politics of the upper layers which makes it easy for people like HORIZON industries to move in without them being able to protest (they do anyways. Though more forcefully than civilly). HORIZON industries is a primarily research based company which is often employed to do trial research for Echoana officials, often for weapons, and it's also the company funding the human experiments I mentioned in the other post.

Because of the Delta being incredibly polluted and sometimes just having scrap fall from the sky (among other things (concerning background radiation)) almost all of the residents have either a mutation, are missing at least one limb, or both. Which unfortunately makes them really convenient test subjects for HORIZON especially since they have no feasible way of taking legal action.

Sereneverse in general mainly focuses on the conflict between the inhabitants of the Delta and upper HORIZON authority as HORIZON industries continues to try to move into the delta (at the start of the story they have 2 makeshift lab sites. Both of which are destroyed soon after by Roya Ngo.) and the experiments who escaped HORIZON in the process finding full lives and families they never would've had if they stayed with them.

Sereneverse is named after Serene Violence (it/it's), a escaped human experiment of HORIZON industries, because it was the first OC I made out of the bunch. It's kind of the catalyst for a lot of the plot as immediately upon its escape it starts making targeted break ins on the homes of HORIZON officials, which makes people investigate in a way they wouldn't have otherwise.

If you want me to elaborate more on characters and introduce the cast lmk!!!!! I can show you all the sillies

#sereneverse #scout.txt #asks #ocs

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cookiekitkat8484 · 9 months ago

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dipper hcs

This is super long, like 2000 words super long because i have a huge hyperfixation and cringe culture is dead. he reminds me of me and my friends/family so i have a million ideas. split into topics for reading convenience

low 20s, autistic, bi + demi with a preference for women, ftm. I totally understand people disliking ftm dipper because of stan and mabel making fun of his masculinity and it would be shitty in canon but this is my post so i make the rules bitch and am pretending that never happened. None of this is ship stuff. I imagine him to basically look like the lovley art in this post.

shares an apartment with mabel in portland, completely full of nerd memorabilia, stacks of boardgames, mabels diys, a conspiracy corkboard, and arts & crafts materials

works in a bar/arcade where wendy bartends, calls soos and fidds when he needs help fixing machines

pet ferret called pippin

started his own journal

pacificas plus one to her prissy rich person events, sit in the corner and shit talk

carries around fidget toys, was too embarrassed till mabel convinced him (partially because his pens kept exploding everywhere)

has protective runes tattooed

mabel talks about astrology to be annoying, is baited into getting mad and rambling about how modern astrology is fake and a scam every single time

nervous driver, doesnt have a car but is sometimes driven by mabel in her heavily adorned funmobile; worries about her "enthusiastic" driving

helps mabel dye her hair after a three am hair emergency, got really good and started bleaching pacificas till she decided to chop it and grow it out natural (refused money from her parents after moving out), which used to be the ultimate gossip sessions

joint problems and pain, god awful posture

one sided beef with all of mabels partners till they “prove themselves”

doesnt believe in cooking like he (mainly) used to not believe in laundry

punched someone for making fun of mabel, got beat up so mabel kicked their asses (thank you stan and wendy for her "training")

only social media is reddit, an instagram account made and run by pacifica, youtube, and a tumblr on nerd/mystery stuff

only has tumblr bc candy convinced him in like 2014 then he succumbed to the brain rott, they're mutuals and make weird references no one else gets, personalises blog extensively via html/css, had a brief superwholock phase in 2015 (fight me)

coded mabels laptop into a custom 2000s esc blinged out hellscape she made in graphic design class, got her rgb stuff bc she likes rainbows and he thinks its funny

occasionally clashes with mabel bc shes sensory seeking and he gets sensory overload

pacifica takes him clothes shopping bc otherwise he will literally never buy new clothes, sometimes go thrifting with mabel the thrift god

mildly dyslexic and in denial

needs glasses but usually wears contacts because he finds them annoying then forgets to take them out

wears glasses when he misses the grunkles

Sugar addict like mabel and their pantry shows it

Best nerd shirt collection, like, that's all he wears

Gets into online arguments way too much for no reason

Mabel makes like ten different protective friendship bracelets with unicorn hair so he could have options, just wears all of them at once

uni

journalism major with a minor in computer science

takes history, pure maths, and film units as electives

member/helps run the clubs for DnD [DD&MD], MTG, Warhammer, and scifi & fantasy appreciation

founder and president of the uni cryptozoology, supernatural, aliens, and occult society (CSACS)

gets ford to proof read his writing/math and fidds his code

attends lectures for units hes not even enrolled in for fun

has gotten into multiple arguments with professors, including ones that dont even teach him

has read theory (all people who’ve read theory are annoying including myself)

hobbies

goes to cons with mabel, she helps with (/mainly makes for him) matching cosplays to fill the trick or treating void

once met spock and kirks actors and got so excited he passed out so mabel took pics of him on the floor next to them and she thinks its the funniest thing to ever exist

DMs multiple online DnD [DD&MD] and ttrpgs groups, 3.5e truther

competes in MTG tournaments

does karaoke night with mabel and the gals atleast once a month, sometimes brings pacifica

goes to the renaissance fair with the squad where him, mabel, ford, and soos all dress up and get super into character with melony; wendy and stan take shrooms and go to watch the sword fighting

listens to DnD podcasts

ex band kid and still plays Sousaphone, often to mabels dismay

obsessed with boardgames and hosts boardgame nights, always makes everyone play super overcomplicated ones then has to play monopoly when its stan and mabels choice

almost always wins boardgames and knows how every mechanic works, has only occasionally lost to ford (who is a sore loser lol)

has had risk games last multiple days after its only him and ford left

bonds with mabel and soos painting figures (warhammer, dnd, the usual) and embraces her covering hers in glitter and gems

goes ghost hunting, has a shit tone of real gear from ford and fidds and sometimes vlogs, quotes buzzfeed unsolved

secret AO3 account, caught grunkle stan writing dutches approves fics but both have sworn an oath of secrecy

wendy taught him skateboarding, doesnt do tricks (uncoordinated as shit) but uses it as transport

broke bc he cant resist collectables

made his own pc from scratch using parts he bought and custom ones made by fidds

goes to local band concerts with wendy and her gang including watching wendy play drums

Did debate in highschool, usually gets nervous doing public speaking but gets so invested he forgets; is second speaker

tech guy for productions mabel is in

games

loves all strategy and puzzle games

fav games include fallout 1&2, nethack, xcom, civ, FTL, and dwarf fortress

ford and fidds play games they used to play before the portal accident with him eg. zork, MUD1, rouge, star trek, colossal cave adventure, and mystery house

plays portal 2 with ford and sometimes mabel

plays baldurs gate with mabel and she spent five hours doing character customisation, he plays wizard and she plays bard and both are total stereotypes

played lethal company and phasmophobia with mabel, soos, wendy, grenda, and candy (goes as expected) (lots of screaming)

BDG unravelled fan and grew up on matpat but cant play fnaf or ddlc bc giffany

had a breakdown playing dark souls and started crying at 2am so mabel banned it permanently

spectacularly bad at rhythm games but will play with mabel anyway and she completely sweeps, esp in arcades and just dance

plays bishi bashi with the gang and have broken the machine multiple times

really good at retro arcade games, shares strats with soos and remembers all the combos for everything; helps kids beat levels at work

gets ford to help optimise game stats/teams/strats with the POWER OF MATHS !!!, has on occasion coded algorithms to assist

forced everyone to play among us constantly for like three months straight

member of mabel, candy, and grendas chaotic nightmare of a minecraft server, usually offline and generally regrets it when he joins; more of a terraria guy

undertale kid

ports/emulates games himself, esp retro console stuff like old fire emblem, Zelda, earthbound

in the ace attorney fandom

runs a server for online friends he plays games with

shows/movies

does annual lotr (extended edition) marathons with ford, mabel drifts in and out of watching because snacks and that legolas and arwin are both a “total smash” (elf apreciator)

loves all scifi, including classics like star trek, star wars, ext.

watches doctor who with mabel (shes a david tennant enjoyer) including the super old stuff, replies with one of the classic who doctors when people ask his fav and confuse them

goes to old scifi/horror/fantasy rerun marathons, wendy joins depending on the films

watches scifi and mecha anime with soos and fidds, sometimes ford joins

loves evangelion, knows cruel angels thesis in japanese, lowkey a shinji kinnie and is bullied ruthlessly

watches candys exquisite curation of 90s shoujo with her, mabel, and grenda; wont admit he gets super into it but has been caught doing sailor moon magical girl transformation poses

watched madoka magica with the gals and was kuybey hater #1 from the start

never shuts the fuck up about theories and guesses the end of movies unless mabel smothers him with a pillow

hate watches conspiracy theory/ghost hunting shows with wendy bc theyre either laughably wrong or so close and totally missing the obvious, except this one random guy who was somehow spot on (like doug forcett in the good place)

Made to watch all of twilight at a girls night because mabel (mostly) watched lotr, cant stop overthinking the insane lore implications which somehow get worse with every book fact mabel tells him (because what the fuck ???? the world building is batshit), him and candy keep periodically saying effervescent and bursting into hysterics to the others confusion

still quotes star wars bad lip readings with mabel

books

favs include hitchikers guide to the galaxy, discworld, lotr, do androids dream of electric sheep, earthsea, dune, and HP lovecraft esp cuthullu

him and ford have both read the salmirilion and make it everyones problem

likes classic scifi and early cyberpunk, esp spec fic thats wacky or raises ethical questions to ponder with ford

loves sherlock homes and agatha christie, big who dunnit story fan

read good omens bc mabel likes the show (again, david tennant enjoyer) and its terry pratchet + neil gaiman, tries to get her to read the book for ages and eventually she listens to the audiobook

music

likes lemon demon, TWERP, starbomb, NSP, tally hall, will wood, and other nerd bands

they might be giants and potusa enjoyer

owns spirit phone on vinyl, made ford listen once and accidentally gave him flashbacks

can and will recite the entirety of the ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny at the drop of a hat

went through a midwest emo phase, still listens to csh

listens to vocaloid with candy; went to a concert with the gals and everyone learnt the dances, mabel decorated their light sticks

always ends up belting [B]ABBA when drunk

Fav [B]ABBA songs are disco girl and under attack

weezer defender, bullied by mabel and wendy

listens to math rock with ford while stan complains the time signatures and polyrhythms (though he’d never bother to learn the terms) give him a headache

listens to game OSTs and chiptune stuff

mabel got him into musicals, knows the words to hamilton, bmc, and dear evan hansen, sing duets together

trans

once forgot to take off a too small binder for like two days and fainted, mabel made him a custom one

short king, used to have hight dysphoria

mabel alters his pants bc mens trousers are evil for the transmasc gang

didnt shave ever when he first got his wiskers till pacifica staged an intervention

forgot to tell stan he was trans till he got body hair and stan joked it was his genetics to thank, dipper responded he was lucky the T was actually effective

drinking/drugs

cant smoke weed or he gets suuuuper paranoid, only smoked once w wendy and tried to smoke more to calm down but just ended up greening hard

drinks alcoholic ginger beer and indie APIs wendy recommends, though shes more of a whisky and scotch

super low alcohol tolerance, doesnt drink often

drinks mabels own recipe cocktail monstrosities when she convinces him they wont get shitfaced, always ends up shitfaced because theyre 100% alcohol + sugar and mabels tolerance is like double his; always eventually ends with him trying to explain lotr poorly

once drank so much caffeine he started hallucinating

tripsits mabel (LSD legend) and sometimes wendy (totally does shrooms), again is neurotic and should under no circumstances take hallucinogens

sometimes smokes cigs when stressed, tries to hide it but is laughably bad, will ocasionally bum a cig off wendy

#dipper hc #ive changed some of these and have au'd it so many times its basically its own thing but leaving this up to reference

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