#and it's so fun to tie these things to human nature

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

me on tumblr: oh i just love flowers they're so pretty and i love the symbolism so much-

me in my head while creating bouquets: HOW MUCH PAIN AND ANGST CAN I PACK INTO A SINGULAR PLANT WHILE MAKING IT STILL SEEMINGLY INNOCENT

[kentopedia]

hi rylie!! thank you sm for the recs! and since you said your inbox is open …

could i maybe request a fic where nanami proposes to you? like a spur of the moment thing where it’s not really the “right time” but he just springs out the question bc he wants you forever 🥹😮‍💨

thank you a bajillion! <3

my everything

FEATURING: nanami kento x f!reader — wc: 3.1k

SUMMARY: after nanami remembers how short life can be, he realizes he wants to spend the rest of his with you.

CONTENTS: takes place during jjk 0, slight angst per usual, marriage proposals, sorcerer!reader, nanami's pov, happy ending

note: thank you for this sweet request!! i kind of took it and ran w it, but this was so much fun to write :) i hope you enjoy lovely!! <;33

Kento couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so afraid.

The gnawing feeling of dread was as heavy as the ring in his pocket, the one that he now regretted hanging onto for so long. Shinjuku streets were drenched in the blood of so many curses, humans, and sorcerers and it sickened him, reminded him that life could be cut short at any moment. There was a reason that he’d quit Jujutsu so many years ago, and he started to wonder if he’d made the right decision in coming back.

Kento sorted through the bodies, scanned the mangled corpses for any sign of your familiar face. He never spotted you, but he wasn’t certain if it was a relief that you were nowhere to be found.

Satoru stood at the edge of the street, his forehead lined with sweat, the pale bandages falling away from his icy eyes. Briefly, he dropped the façade that always lingered, and it was obvious how tired he was. How much everything had beaten him down in the last decade and refused to let up.

In that moment, Kento felt sorry for him. Then, Satoru resumed his usual air of arrogance, straightened his back, and the natural balance fell between them once more.

In just a few strides, Kento was upon him, his hair unruly, shirt wrinkled as the tie remained still crumpled around his hand. His muscles ached and he longed for a shower—though any of those trivial thoughts were outweighed by his incessant need to find you.

“Where is she?” The words hung in the air before Kento realized they’d left his lips at all.

Satoru hesitated, almost unwilling to hand over his confession so easily. “I sent her back to the school.”

Kento clenched his fists, but Satoru was defending himself before any irrational actions could be taken.

“She insisted, Nanami.”

Still, he couldn’t help but wish that Satoru had ignored your pleas, even if Kento was unsurprised that you’d volunteered to stand by the students’ side. You weren’t the type of person to let a few first and second years go up against a special grade on their own, no matter how strong they were.

Satoru was squeezing Kento’s shoulder before he had even noticed the movement. Something in his expression had darkened, and though Kento normally would’ve shoved him off, put some distance between the two of them, he wasn’t sure he could remember a time when Satoru Gojo looked so somber. “I wouldn’t have sent them there if I wasn’t certain they’d be alright. I’m not as cruel as you might think.”

Kento knew that he had never behaved warmly towards his ex-classmate, but his opinion of the man was not as low as Satoru believed. For better or worse, Satoru loved his students, and though he pushed them, Kento knew he would never put them into an undefeatable danger.

He sighed, dropping his chin to his chest as Satoru’s hand fell away from his shoulder. “Just take me to her, Gojo.”

Satoru nodded, his lips curling down into a frown before he was teleporting them both back to the high school. There, the sight was even more dismal than Kento had expected. Many of the buildings had been destroyed and there were clear residuals from many sorcerers and curses. It was chaos, a grim sight to behold, and they weren’t even past the gate.

The anxiety twisted up in his chest, and inwardly, he prayed, hopeful that you were as fine as Satoru believed. That Geto, in every inch of his darkened heart, would hesitate when it came to killing an old friend.

“Hey,” Satoru said, tying up the blindfold once more, tightening it across his snowy hair. “She’s fine. This, I’m certain of.”

Kento’s lips were too dry to even offer a thank you, even though Satoru probably deserved it, for all the sacrifices he made, all the time. Instead, he nodded, and turned away from the tall man, haunted by a memory of him once as young as the students that had been left behind to protect humanity.

The leaves and gravel crunched under Kento’s feet as he ran up to the school, taking in the sheer destruction that had befallen the place he’d once called home. It made him ache with a longing for a simpler time, even though he could never go back, and the boy he’d been was long gone.

It was a brisk night—the kind of night that you normally would’ve spent bundled up inside, a bowl of hot soup between you, a movie running while you rested your head against Kento’s shoulder, dozing off before the credits rolled.

That’s how his night should’ve gone. Instead, he was searching every crushed piece of building, every pile of rubble in case your body had been caught between it.

Kento knew that the life of a sorcerer was a miserable one, that it was easy to lose the people you cared about, but he wasn’t certain he’d be able to go on for much longer if he lost you.

The ring was even heavier in his pocket, weighing him down, making it near impossible to move. If you hadn’t survived, Kento would never forgive himself for waiting so long to propose.

He called your name, ripping off his glasses in any attempt to see you better, wondering where you could’ve disappeared to, hoping that you hadn’t died alone.

The grounds, it seemed, had been hollowed out completely, and for the first time, Kento wondered if Gojo was wrong about his old friend.

Panic clawed up his chest, scratching at his throat, sending him into an illogical spiral before a small, shaky voice from behind him brought him back to reality, a light that parted through the black night, so sweet and heavenly to his ears.

“Kento?”

He turned, blinked as you swayed on your feet, making your way slowly down the steps of the main building. You walked awkwardly on your ankle, though you pushed on, heading towards him despite the pain.

For a moment, he watched, and then he was upon you without even acknowledging his movements, two long strides that brought him back to his salvation.

Kento pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your hair, breathing in the undeniable truth that you were still alive, even as you winced from his stronghold, your arms limp at your sides.

“Fuck,” Kento said, kissing you on the top of the head, your hairline, forehead. His eyes were glossy with tears that had been held back by his remaining shreds of hope. “You scared me there for a second, sweetheart.”

Your hands were on his chest, tracing his bicep before you curled your fingers around his jaw, bringing his gaze to your own. The touch was light, searching for any wounds that hid under his stained button-up. “I’m okay,” you said, softly, even though your face was bruised, your ankle twisted, and you were bleeding from more places than one. “Are you?”

Kento nearly laughed, wondering how you could even think to ask that question when he was untouched compared to you. Though, the amusement died immediately when you looked at him with so much concern that he melted, and he squeezed your hand in reassurance. “I’m okay.”

You nodded, expression serious as you attempted to ingrain the words into your mind, convince yourself that everything would be alright, even though things hadn’t been that way in nearly a decade. You kept your hands on him, as if waiting for some wounds to appear, for him to start bleeding into your palm, even though his injuries went no further than some sore muscles.

“And everyone else?”

Kento pulled you into his chest, running a hand up and down your back, wishing that he could heal you as easily as Shoko could, that a gentle touch could fix everything that had ever soiled your life. “Everyone’s fine,” he said, and as far as he knew, that was true. “A little beat up, but they’re alive.”

You exhaled, nodding into his chest as you rested your weight on him.

Kento would gladly bear it, would carry you all the way home if need be.

Briefly, you were silent, before you squeezed your eyes shut painfully and grimaced. “I got the students to Shoko, but they were all so hurt, so badly,” you swallowed, digging your fingers into his shirt, and Kento suddenly hated that Satoru hadn’t sent him with you, even if he was needed in the city. “Geto—”

You stopped yourself, and said nothing more, heartbroken by a boy you had too many fond memories of to ever see in a malicious light. It was difficult for everyone who’d ever known him back then, even if he hadn’t been that way in a decade.

Kento swallowed and you pushed away your tears, buried whatever conversation had transpired earlier between you and the dark-haired sorcerer.

Though, you’d resolved to be everything that Geto was not. That, at least, had been one positive outcome of his betrayal. “It’s not your fault, love.”

“I should’ve been more prepared to kill him, Kento. I’m not as strong as him, but I should’ve been able to hold him off until Gojo—” You choked back a cry before standing straight, shaking your head. “I tried too hard to reason with him. I left it to a student, and—”

“Hey,” Kento held your cheeks tight in his palms, forcing you to gain a better perspective of the situation. You looked up at him with soft, lost eyes, and Kento was filled with a swell of adoration for you, for the strength that came with the vastness of your heart.

Despite all you’d suffered, you’d managed a smile, been the light in Kento’s life, even when he’d wanted to do nothing but wallow in his own misery. If not for you, he wasn’t sure he ever would’ve come back to being a sorcerer at all. If not for you, Kento would’ve been lost, without an ounce of meaning in his life.

You were so foolish for thinking you hadn’t done enough, when you’d done more for him than he could put into words. Kento’s love for you was enormous, and in that moment, he would’ve let the rest of the world collapse in on itself if it meant you’d be safe and happy.

“Any of us would’ve done the same. Do you really believe that Gojo would’ve so easily killed Geto without speaking to him first? Would I have?”

The look didn’t dissipate from your irises, but you didn’t disagree with him, and that was enough. Kento kissed you, deeply, putting every ounce of affection into that single touch. Everyone had made it out of the night alive, and you’d been there for the students when it mattered the most. That was more than he could say, at least.

“I don’t want to lose anyone else, Kento,” you said, blinking at him once more with those sad eyes, ones that he never wanted to see on your normally bright expression. “I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t tear me apart.”

“You won’t lose me,” he promised, even though he knew that there was no way he could keep it, an oath that was almost destined to be broken. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You and I both know that you can’t be sure of that,” you said, backing out of his embrace to wrap a protective arm around yourself. The smile that graced your lips was sad, defeated. “Our world is not merciful enough.”

Kento knew that better than anyone, and he’d been reminded of it that evening. Reminded of the loss that befell those who wanted to fight for a better world, and even those who didn’t. Death didn’t give any warning, didn’t choose based off anything more than a random draw. “Then I’ll promise to love you until the day I die. That, at least, is a vow I won’t ever break.”

The ring in his pocket was practically vibrating now, reminding him how little the non-necessities of life mattered to him. All this time, he been waiting for the perfect moment, to plan everything down to the very last detail.

It seemed meaningless now.

You squeezed his hand, your face brightening despite your sorrow, lips tugging up sideways. “I can promise the same.” Kento’s heart swelled, and you kissed his cheek before dragging him a few steps forward so the two of you were walking in time together. “We should go check on the students. I want Shoko to check my ankle too. I’ve suffered worse, but it’s starting to swell pretty badly.”

Kento nodded, though his mind was too busy whirling with fears of a wedding that might never happen, that you might never know he was going to propose if he didn’t do it soon. You could be snatched away from him at any moment, or perhaps, he could leave this world with the ring still in his pocket, and you’d only know once you found it on his corpse.

Kento wouldn’t forgive himself, even in death, if he didn’t do what he’d been wanting to do for months.

With one arm around your shoulder, he reached the other into his pocket, twirling the box. He wasn’t even sure why he carried it with him that night when he could’ve so easily lost it in the middle of battle.

Yet, there it was, lingering, the constant weight in his pocket that rested against his hip. He swallowed, and you looked up at him, your lips falling back once more into a frown.

“Hey,” you said, slowing your pace, concern evident in your expression. “Is something wrong? Did something happen in Shinjuku, Kento? I didn’t mean to just brush off—”

Kento shook his head, shushing you quickly. It didn’t take him long to make up his mind, and he wrapped the tiny box up in his hand. “Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of your head again before holding the box out, presenting it to you calmly, without any spike in his normal tone. “I just was thinking about how I was going to ask you to marry me.”

You stopped completely, your pupils blown wide as you took the box from him with shaky hands, blinking back down at it before meeting his tender brown eyes. “Kento?” you said again, calmly, as if waiting for him to explain.

A beat of silence passed between you. Kento, suddenly, felt nervous around you for the first time in a long while.

“Truthfully, I was going to prepare a long-winded speech and buy you some flowers and take you out for dinner. But,” he cleared his throat, regaining his composure as he flipped the lid of the velvety box, revealing the sparkling ring he’d spend hours searching for. “I love you too much to waste any more time. Somehow, until tonight, I’d forgotten how short life can be. I just want to spend every moment I can as your husband.”

Your eyes became glossy as you stared down at the beautiful gem, lifting the ring out of the box to slide onto your finger. As expected, it fit you perfectly, shimmering in the pale light, the perfect complement to your skin. Kento gently took your hand, kissing the knuckle right below the jewelry.

“I’ll propose again to you properly,” he said, laughing quietly, though if it was because of your silence or the joy lodged within him, he couldn’t be certain. “Without all the blood and the—"

“Kento.” Your lips were on his before he could finish his sentence, harsh and passionate despite your injuries. Fingers curled around his chin, holding him into place, making him forget all the horrors that had occurred that evening. “Don’t be silly. I don’t need a grandiose display to know I want to be with you forever. I love you too much.”

Kento’s chest warmed, that bundle of affection within him bursting, making its way through every ounce of his being. There, you seemed to glow brighter, every day making you more beautiful than before, and he wondered how it could be possible that he could feel so much for one person.

He relaxed, unknowingly tense, and kissed you again on the forehead, his arms around your shoulder once more. “I should’ve done it sooner.”

You smiled and caressed the harsh bones of his cheeks, shaking your head. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.” You laughed, pulling him down by the tie, pressing a kiss between his brows to ease the wrinkle there. “Besides, now you’ve turned this awful night into something special. I don’t have to remember this day with a bitter taste in my mouth.”

Kento returned your smile, but it was still weak, even with all of the adoration he felt for you.

Though, when you beamed at the ring, your eyes soft, all of the previous despair gone, he knew that everything would be alright. Perhaps his timing had been less than ideal, but he would do it over and over again if only to ease away the misery from your face.

“So, then you will marry me?” he said again, wanting to hear the words from your lips, even though there was no doubt in his mind.

You rolled your eyes playfully, noticing his teasing smile and indulged him. “Yes, Kento.” You kissed his cheek, letting out a sharp exhale. “I’ll marry you. I would’ve always said yes, even back when we were silly, lovesick teenagers.” You sighed theatrically, adjusting his tie. “Who knows why. You had such a ridiculous haircut back then.”

Kento’s cheeks grew warm, splitting with the force of his smile, one that only seemed to appear with you at his side. Despite all of the horrible things that had happened in all of your lives, he was grateful that there were good moments too.

“Well, I still managed to win over the prettiest girl in the world, didn’t I?” he said, ghosting the words as he laced his fingers with your own, squeezing tight. “Now I get to call her my fiancée.”

You mumbled something less than kind under your breath, but Kento could feel the warmth on your cheeks, the flush the began from your neck.

He laughed, continuing his path back to the infirmary, where the students were likely waiting for you to return safe and sound. “Come on, I’m taking you to see Shoko. I wouldn’t want my future wife’s injuries to get any worse, would I?”

And though the both of you knew your injuries were minimal, your eyes brightened as the skin around them wrinkled, and Kento knew that whatever happened after this, he would live and die a happy man.

[neversetyoufree]

The way Noé Archiviste is written is so good. I'm so obsessed with him.

He's such a protagonist—endlessly hopeful against adversity and filled with kindness and attempted understanding toward everyone he meets. He's a good person! He wants to save everyone! He is genuinely and utterly without any sort of cruelty or unfair bias.

Yet, the more the series goes on, the more he's written as a very obvious parallel to our antagonists.

The most blatant example of this is the Ruthven parallel. Ruthven once happily said that he liked vampires, and in the same way, he liked humans. Noé repeats this exact same line when he has tea with Ruthven.

This parallel doesn't reflect too poorly on Noé, since it's pretty clear that something Happened to Ruthven to change him between his speaking that line and him becoming our antagonist, but it is an interesting way to tie the two of them together. It raises certain questions in readers' minds. In what other ways are Noé and Ruthven still similar, and how might Noé change to become more like him?

Then there's Noé's toxic optimism. The "you should be a little bothered, actually" aspect of him. Noé is the mirror to Vanitas's toxic pessimism. He latches onto the good in the world to a fault, and in this way he detaches from reality and endures an endless series of abuses to his person without even understanding they're abuses.

That is also one of the defining traits of Mikhail. Misha is unsettling in part because he is completely detached from any understanding of severity. Misha happily recounts being abused and watching his mother die not because he's cruel or hateful, but because he doesn't understand what's happened to him or why those things are bad. Misha wants to bring Luna back to life because he's in denial of the reality of their death. He believes he can just resurrect them and everything will be fine, and he'll get to play happy family again.

If Noé went just a little bit more extreme with the over-optimism, he could disconnect from reality just as badly as Misha has.

Finally there's my favorite parallel—the tie between Noé and his Teacher. Noé Archiviste has a tendency to watch others in fascination, trying to figure them out from the sidelines while he fails to understand his own impact on them, and he absolutely loves the Blue Moon. He thinks the Blue Moon is beautiful. Teacher spends his time collecting interestingly damaged children in putting them in awful situations, apparently just for the fun of watching what they'll do next, and he calls The Vampire of the Blue Moon "the most beautiful creature in the world."

Noé's curiosity-driven fascination with Vanitas's trauma and his love of the blue moon—neither of these are necessarily a problem on their own, but when written in direct parallel with The Count of Saint Germain, they become somewhat alarming.

In the same way that Misha is "worse" than Noé because his obliviousness to his trauma leads him to harm others, Noé's teacher is surely a worse person than him because he lets himself harm others in pursuit of his interests. Noé doesn't do that. But what would it take for that to change? He's pushed boundaries before. He learned to hurt Astolfo and Misha in the name of protecting those he cares about. What other strange places could his headstrong nature lead?

What might Noé do when his fascination and his obliviousness intersect? When the parts of him that are Teacher and the parts of him that are Misha overlap? What would he do to see Vanitas again? What might he do without letting himself realize how terrible it was?

Noé is a good person. He's one of the best people. But in his attentiveness and his optimism and his love, there's the seeds of something that could lead him down a very dark road. Each of the above antagonists is a little bit a part of who he is.

Misha wants to bring Luna back to life. Ruthven is working toward some mysterious aim with the dead or dying Faustina. And given how he talks in mémoire 55, I wouldn't be surprised if Teacher also had an interest in bringing back The Vampire of the Blue moon in one form or another.

In all his fascination and love and hope, would/will Noé be able to let Vanitas die when death is preferable to the alternative? This is a story about the inevitability of death, and the denial of that inevitability creates nothing but horror and perversion. Noé is growing and learning to understand both Vanitas and the moral complexities of the world, and we can only hope that he learns enough. We can see through his many reflections in other characters what he might become if he can't accept painful reality.

[frudoo]

I need Price to help the reader out of Shibari ropes.(and put her in better ones) Like self practicing is great till you can undo the knots. Surly, her captain won't make fun of her for getting stuck?

We all know Price would love ropes.

Captain John "Shibari Connoisseur" Price (I spent an embarrassing amount of time researching what I think his fave position would be)

Warnings: No smut, but very suggestive, therefore MDNI. Bondage (obviously). Price is a lil feral. Fem!Reader.

“Bloody hell, love.”

     You’ve heard that familiar disappointed voice in one too many embarrassing situations, but this? This takes the cake. You didn’t even remember to lock the door before deciding to try your hand at a simple self-tie shibari and effectively rendering yourself immobile and useless, with your ankles tied together and your wrists all tangled in the rope. God, why didn’t you do this on the bed?

     “Erm… help?” You ask with a sheepish grin, turning your head to watch as John leans against the door frame, pinching the bridge of his nose incredulously.

     To your dismay, the captain shuts the door and pulls up a chair to sit in front of your struggling form, crossing his arms over his chest and kicking back comfortably. There’s a smirk on his face that he’s never worn before, but instead of holding amusement, his eyes display something darker. It doesn’t strike fear in you, though, quite the opposite. The way he’s assessing your work by trailing his eyes all over your bound body makes you wetter than you’d like to admit. 

     “Really shitty job, y’know,” John clicks his tongue, the statement falling from his lips with maddening nonchalance. 

     “Gee, thanks.”

     His broad shoulders shake as he chuckles, leaning forward in his chair and resting his elbows on his knees. The way you look up at him in your helpless position has John adjusting himself in his pants, nearly drooling at the sight. Poor thing, you look so uncomfortable, straining your neck just so you can beg him for help. 

     “If you wanted to be tied up, you could’ve asked me.”

     You’re almost positive your heart has completely stilled in your chest. Surely you misheard. There’s no way he’s implying anything, especially nothing of this nature.

     “What?”

     “I didn’t stutter, love,” John hums, dismounting the chair and crouching down before you. “You should’ve told me. I’d do a much better job than this.”

     One thing you are certain of is the way your pussy throbs at his words. Your eyes are nearly watering, overcome with shame, embarrassment, and humiliating arousal. Maybe the position is cutting off your brain’s oxygen supply and making you say absurd things, but your tongue makes no effort to hold back its lack of good judgment. 

     “You’re here now,” you mutter.

     Your breath hitches at the sound that comes from the captain’s throat, strangled and low, more animal than human, too wild for such a domesticated creature such as himself. John doesn’t ask permission before trailing his hands along your back to release your wrists and ankles from the mangled ropes. He certainly doesn’t warn you before he’s ripping off what little clothes you had on and dragging you over to the bed. 

     John positions you the way he wants a little too effortlessly for comfort—legs spread with your ankles bound to your inner thighs, wrists behind your back and arms tied to your sides. By now, his chest is heaving, eyes hungrily devouring the pretty sight of your bare tits puffed out, drooling cunt on full display. His blue eyes are hidden behind pools of black, and after an uncomfortable amount of silence from him, you nearly jump when he finally responds to your implication.

     “That I am.”

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Sea salt and freedom

Words: 1,385 [also on AO3]

Rated: M

Tags: Fantasy AU; Dragon Eddie Munson; King Steve Harrington; Soul bond; Mates; Implied sexual content; Monsterfucker Steve Harrington; They're in love, your honor

Notes: @house-of-the-moving-image said give me Upside Diner or Hic sunt dracones verse for my birthday, and I said why not both? Here's your surprise second ficlet, enjoy! 🐉💕

“Is this really necessary?” Steve asks as his dragon slips his favorite piece of silk over his eyes. He tries to go for annoyed, but can't quite keep the giddy laugh out of his voice. Hasn't been able to ever since they left the castle for their little get-away. “Or is this another weird sex thing of yours?” 

Eddie hums in mock-thought, a deep rumbly sound that floats through the fuzzy darkness behind the blindfold and tingles all the way down Steve’s spine, in his soul. His hands tie off the knot at the base of Steve’s neck, then go on to toy with his hair. His breath tickles the shell of Steve’s ear as he speaks. 

“What a question, beloved. You know how much I enjoy making you squirm.” As if to prove his point, he nips at the junction of Steve’s neck and shoulder, chuckling at the shiver and sharp intake of breath it gets him. “But also, you'd be able to see it once we're over those mountaintops, and I don't want you to just yet. Wanna look at your face when you do. So be good and wear this for me, yes?” 

Steve swallows the moan that's building in his chest, even though it's difficult with Eddie peppering his neck and jaw in bites and kisses. 

“Is this even safe? Doesn't sound like the best idea, riding you blindfolded.” 

“Oh, but it isn't far now, my pretty. And besides, you've ridden me plenty of times,” Eddie replies, and Steve can practically hear the suggestive brow wiggle. He rolls his eyes behind the blindfold. “You'll just need to rely on your other senses and trust me to keep you safe. You can do that, can't you?” 

Steve melts into Eddie’s touch as he is turned and pulled into a kiss, and forgets to reply. He doesn’t need to. They both know that trusting each other comes as naturally as breathing.

*

It's the weirdest feeling, flying blind, but it works surprisingly well. What he lacks in sight, the rest of his senses seem determined to make up for. Suddenly, he's hyper-aware of his dragon’s body under his, the way those strong muscles move. They announce every swerve and change in course before it actually comes, allowing him to adjust his weight in turn. Where his regular, human senses don't suffice, the soul bond fills in flawlessly, like a safety line tethering him to his mate's body and mind. 

The sensation is strange and thrilling and exhilarating. He thought he knew how much in tune they are - Eddie’s body and soul as familiar as his own. But this? It's like the lines between their very beings are blurring into each other. It’s strange and beautiful all at once, and it makes him wonder what else they could do with the blindfold on. His dragon purrs, and the invisible connection thrums with it - the familiar, wordless Mine. Steve smiles, pressing himself closer to his mate's body so that he can kiss the warm scales. Yours. Always.  

The roughest part is getting off his dragon’s back, actually. They land with barely a sound and he descends with practiced ease - but the ground is all soft and weird. He wobbles and makes a startled, undignified sound, and the only thing that saves him from landing square on his ass is Sweetheart’s giant head shoving itself into his space to steady him.

"What the fuck?” Steve mutters while the body next to his shifts and his dragon's laughter turns human. “Warn a guy!” 

“But where would the fun be in that?” Eddie quips. Steve can feel how he drapes himself around him - arms around his waist, tail circling his legs, wings enveloping the both of them. “Didn't wanna give anything away.” 

He trails off, letting the silence linger between them. 

Except it isn't silent. Instead, there's a million and one strange sounds. The rush of wind catching on cliffs. The rustle of dry grass. The shrieks of unfamiliar birds in the distance. 

Water. 

Gurgling, lapping, murmuring all around them, mingling with the other sounds, filling all of his senses. He can feel it in the very air, can feel the spray of it settle on his skin, in his hair. He gulps and licks his lips and they taste like salt. 

“Eddie,” he breathes. His voice comes out hoarse and shaky, but he doesn’t find it in himself to feel embarrassed. Knows he doesn't have anything to feel embarrassed about anything when it's just the two of them. “Eddie, let me see.” 

He only realizes that his hands have flown up to tear at the blindfold when Eddie’s settle on top of them, gently prying them away. 

“Of course, my king. Allow me,” his dragon rumbles, kissing his knuckles. Then, he drops Steve’s hands and reaches for the blindfold. 

The knot slips open. The silk falls away. 

And for the first time in his life, Steve sees the ocean. 

At first, he thinks he must be dreaming, because there's just no way this much water is real. He's heard stories of it, of course, has imagined it a thousand times over. But then again, he had heard plenty of stories about dragons, and none of them ever came close to the real thing. 

For a long while, he just stands and stares, not knowing where to look first. The sunlight catching on the water, creating rippling patterns of light? The waves, crowned with white seafoam, lapping at their feet in a weirdly hypnotic dance, leaving dark imprints on the sand in their wake? The way the sea and the sky melt into each other on the horizon, so much like their souls? 

He thinks he could look at all of this forever and never get tired of it. 

“Well?” Eddie asks. His smile is large and eager, and a little smug. His tail twitches excitedly where it's curling around their ankles. “Do you like it? Because I'm trying to pick up what you're thinking, but all I'm getting is that weird, fuzzy-” 

He doesn't get any further, because Steve whirls around, grabbing his face in both hands and crashing their lips together, and his words trail off into a pleasantly surprised oomph. The suddenness of the assault tips their balance, and before Steve knows it, they're going down in a heap on the sandy ground. A particularly large wave sloshes over them, wet and foamy and cold. Steve shrieks and laughs all at once. Eddie hisses - much like Dustin’s cat that one time Joyce accidentally emptied a bucket full of dishwater over its head - and glowers at him in affront, but that only makes matters worse. Steve erupts in a fresh round of cackles that only quieten when Eddie seals their lips together and licks them right out of his mouth.

He doesn't quite know how long they stay like this, but it must be a while, judging by the way his clothes are drenched in salty water and his stomach hurts from laughing and his head is dizzy from all the kissing. 

“It’s beautiful,” he murmurs against Eddie’s lips, fingers carding through wet curls to find the base of the horns. His dragon’s pupils blow wide, the gold around them swirling and glowing with desire. The bond thrums with it and Steve feels the familiar heat pool at the base of his own spine. “Do you … Do you think I can go for a swim?” 

Eddie huffs a laugh. 

“You and the water. I swear you must’ve been a little merman in some other life.” His hands have pushed up Steve’s soaked shirt, fingers drawing patterns on the naked skin. “Of course you can, just don’t expect me to join. I’ll stay on land where it’s nice and dry and enjoy the sight.” 

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” Steve grins and surges up for another kiss. It tastes like sea salt and freedom. “You can warm me back up once I’m done. Maybe we could … go for another ride with the blindfold?” 

The bond crackles with desire, like a firework of tiny sparks. Eddie hums, low and pleased, and maneuvers Steve into a sitting position so that he can pull the wet shirt over his head. 

“Now that, my liege, would be my greatest pleasure.”

[cloud-starlight]

Sniperspy in my mind (and partly in the comics) have this solidarity of being complete Loners in comparison to their team. I see this kind of compatibility with them where they can finally have someone with the same “get it done efficiently” mindset that a lot of the other mercs don’t have or have less of.

The ISTJ INTJ solidarity is real and they encompass it perfectly. Spy is like *this guy is so weird and has no class but I can totally get behind his dedication to efficiency* and Sniper is like *this guy is frivolous and attention-grabbing but he is an expert at keeping his emotional distance* and like. they are both attracted to eachother because of that. they have finally found this other person who they can see themselves in.

but then they have the problem of no attachments. but… what happens when theres nothing about the persons character/personality you disagree with? sure there are differences in lifestyle but it’s not too drastic. Sure Sniper likes hunting while Spy would prefer looking through clothes magazines, but there’s no difference in moral lifestyle. It’s like, theres finally someone they can both let their guard down around because neither of their guards *actually* go down. They’ll still be alert, no matter the situation.

so, they go on a few couple road-trips around the west coast/midwest. they find ease around eachother, they have similar views, they can make fun of the same people, and they can find an escape from their jobs.

Then, here comes the problem for Spy. Keeping yourself detached has always been a typical strategy for spies, but does it really apply to everyone? Theres this dedication to keeping yourself a shrouded mystery, because no matter how earnest someone says they are when keeping secrets-you can never completely tell. And hes always had this way in relationships (romantic or platonic) where he’s with someone, then he cuts it off. no questions answered, no calls taken, no letters returned to sender. He’s gone. It’s the way of things as a spy, right? The job is done, the relationships are done. But, is this a dance he’s going to be wanting to do until he dies? Theres only so much time in a man’s life. (and a smoking one at that, but i digress)

He likes fancy clothes, he likes chance, he likes problem-solving, and he likes planning. He likes it so much that he’s willing to put his own life in the hands of his own mind, and his abilty to act on instinct.

Now, with this new indefinite contract where he battles alongside 8 other men in various locations across the globe in a decade old fued between two brothers, he wonders if he’ll even need to *cut the ties* of this job/era in his life.

he has one of the most innovative and smartest doctors at his dispense to heal any disease or wounds he has, he has good pay, and freedom to be his own person *in the most mysterious way possible* and he gets to boss around and insult his coworkers with no repercussions from the employer. He lives in a constant state of planning against his own clone! (which he believes to be the best candidate to fight against)

So when this like-minded wilderness man comes to save him from his social boredom, should he stop himself from forming an attachment? It’s only human after all, emotional bonds are a pillar in human nature. But, is it worth it to give into something he hasn’t been with for at least 20 years just because he *thinks* he won’t have any other job? He truly believes, if he does allow himself to have strong emotional connection with Sniper, he may never be able to cut the tie, he’ll get too attached.

Now, for Sniper, there’s this dilemma where he’s never had a relashionship to cut off. His parents passed pretty recently, and he’s feeling lonely! How are you supposed to brush off the feeling that you could have a genuine connection with someone like you? Maybe… just keep up the battlefield rivalry and keep getting pissed at this annoying invisible guy who keeps ruining your shots by stabbing you in the back, but then, theres this belief that he’ll always be there to mess up your plans, and that is still a sense of security. How is it that Sniper should have no connections strong enough to deter him from planning to kill them, but still mentally function as a person?

In my mind, Sniper and Spy found eachother at the perfect spot for connection, they are both starting to question their own needs, even if it’s in different ways. Sniper lost something, and Spy hasn’t had something for a long time, but is just now questioning it.

It’s a scary dance for both of them, of course, but it’s not a dance to easily keep yourself from doing. It’s the most emotionally invested either of them have been in a romantic relationship, so how you just end it? how do you just say “no, no more.” and then see the person you know you love on the battlefield and not say anything?

[reddesires]

As a human, living with apes can be challenging in many ways, we know that. Especially considering that not all of them have sympathy for humans. The reader also has to constantly struggle with these difficulties. She needs some consolation after a hard and bad day. The Ape mens are there for her. <3 I really like your writings btw <33

A/N: Thank you so much for the support, Love. I CRI every time you guys give me a compliment. it's the sweestest! ❤️

Caesar:

Since Caesar was reared by humans, he understands how important words of affirmation are to them.

He'll softly speak to you with comforting words while he holds you in his arms in your nest. Caesar holds unmeasurable empathy for you, he knows that you struggle with adjusting to this new way of living and the partial attitude they could have towards you so he'll assure you that your doing a good job and everything will be okay.

Caesar doesn't really indulge in unnecessary small talk but when he knows that you've had a hard day then he'll seem very talkative and it truly helps you with feeling a while lot better since it feels like your mostly ignored by the others in the colony, only a select few willing to speak to you.

Caesar assures you that they'll come around. Your kind nature truly rubs off on others. It worked on him, so it won't take long till it works on them, too.

"How are you so sure?" The pout on your lips pulling a chortle from him as he draws in your waist closer to him, nuzzling his face into your nape and you giggle at the ticklish feeling his fur has on your neck "I just do." It's best to trust him. He is the Ape King, after all.

Noa:

Noa makes you laugh. He will try his best to make you smile to forget the bad day you had.

He's aware of the impartial views some Clan members have of you, and he truly tries to take your mind away from dwelling onto it too much. He'll pull some antics from Anaya's book like playfully rough housing you, throwing you over his shoulder running aimlessly and tickling you till your sides hurt from the laughter racking your body.

He wants your focus to be on him, he knows that your mind will wander back to the events of your tough day so he'll occupy you with jokes or say something sassy about the others that pulls a mischievous laugh from you.

He keeps things light and fun for you, he's rather protective of your feelings, he sees you as delicate both physically and emotionally, it really does bother him that your having difficulty with your new life in the clan but he knows that you'll fit in soon enough, it'll be like you have always belonged there with them for now he'll just have to fill that gap with your laughter and smiles while the others adjust to your presence in the Clan.

"The Elders don't like me, do they?" You mutter, a dispirited tone dripping from your voice, he frowns looking at you as you picked at the grass dejected, he grabs your hand in his, kissing the top of your hand.

"Eh, they're Elder in the head, I like you." He chitters in response, grabbing and pulling you on top of him, ticking your sides. You laugh as you try to escape his grip.

What wasn't there to like about you is a constant thought for him. He liked everything about you.

Blue Eyes:

It's a tie between taking you out or cuddling you, or even both.

He'd rather take you out of the environment that's stressing you, so in order to take your mind off of your bad day he'll take you to the nearby river to hunt for the seashells that cohabited the banks and later on at dusk, he'll bring you to your favorite spot in the clearing not far from the colony.

It brings you peace to be there alone with Blue Eyes as you watch the sun set and the stars takes their centered stage above you. The difficulties that you face while in the colony don't reach you here it's like you and Blue Eyes are transported to a different realm here, a place that you could call your own with no worries of the outside world or the blaring differences between your humanness and his apeness, none of that matters here.

He cares for your well being and from what he's learned from his father, humans tend to be fragile emotionally when it comes to trying to fit in, he could see how rejection affects your mental well being, though he's sure this is only a temporary setback so he's gotta step in and make sure that your doing well both physically and mentally.

"I know you're worried. You don't have to be.." You gently speak, your voice a stark contrast to the silent atmosphere surrounding the both of you, your back leaning back into his solid chest. He plops his chin on your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your midsection comfortably.

"I always worry.." He murmurs, you lightly smile, turning your head as he takes the chance to press his forehead to yours "your mine to worry about"

[theghostbunnie]

I've been telling anyone who will listen to me for years how I never believed Fiona's universe was just a genderbent version of Finn's bc the personality changes would be too drastic sometimes and I know adventure time is partly written as it goes along but let me have this !

Fiona isn't even a Finn multiverse variant, she's BASED off of Finn. Where as the rest of the multiverse is made by wishes, so I see it kinda like making a clone of a clone, Fiona's universe is "hand made" so to speak. Something I find interesting is, everyone in it, instead of having the deep lore and backstories as the OG universe (the one they were based off of) they seem to get the simplified "what a viewer would assume/all they'd get to know in the first few seasons of watching adventure time."

Fiona and Cake aren't referred to as sisters, even when their universe had magic. When it went without, cake turned into her pet cat. Similar to how as a little kid watching the first season, you just thought Jake was Finn's talking dog.

Fiona didn't get the last name Mertins because in her original magical universe I'm betting the human Island, bio parents' backstory, deep lore about the mushroom war and the vampires just don't exist there. Similar to how when you were watching the first seasons of adventure you don't really question how Finn got there, or all of ooo. It's just boy in magical land.

Also I am willing to die on this hill Gumball/Gary and Princess bubblegum have next to nothing in common. Even in his first appearances in the main series, Gumball was acting snooty and prissy, what young veiwers thought princess bubblegum to be in the earliest seasons. Gumball/Gary in the new series has very few of Princess bubblegum's traits, especially a lack of being a scientist or abrasive bluntness, or a whole list of things. Don't get me wrong I'm not saying he's shallowly written compared to her! Just different, easily embarrassed and a writer instead, infact! All his lil candy ocs.

The character with the biggest differences though?? Cake and Jake. These are two COMPLETELY separate personalities to me.

So to tie this back to my earlier point of this universe being "hand made" and the more intriqure details being more naturally unique and simple than a carbon genderbent copy, I think Prismo put the least amount of work into Cake. (So her as a living creature developed a personality naturally, not that she doesn't have one bc Prismo didn't give her one manually)

Prismo and Jake were friends, I'm sure he's mourned him and misses him. So why would he torture himself/Disrespect someone he knew personally by making a new one? That wouldn't be fun, and that's arguably the whole reason he made Fiona's world. To have fun making something. That's why I think it doesn't have that depth and darkness Finn's world has, it's just "girl in magical land."

[twst-hottest-takes]

Tweel Anatomy Discussion!

Part 2.

(Finally getting around to this! Link to part 1 here: https://www.tumblr.com/twst-hottest-takes/759029788153446400/tweel-anatomy-discussion?source=share )

And first off a big "Thank You" to everyone who encouraged me to write the first part and who seemed to have enjoyed it. I'm happy my pseudo-scientific ramblings about fantasy anatomy make you happy!

As always: The following post will be almost purely conjecture based off of a combination of reality and fiction. None of what I say should be taken as law, but rather a fun series of hypotheticals, as that is what the game gives us to work with.

Before getting to the promised screed on "throat teeth" I'll be addressing a couple of subjects people asked about in the comments of the first post! I'll be paraphrasing, but if the people who asked wish to be credited directly, let me know and I will tag you!

First: What does Floyd mean when he threatens to "squeeze" people?

As the comment pointed out, eels (moray or not) don't seem to constrict their prey. The word "constrict" is often associated with how many species of snakes trap and suffocate their prey before swallowing it whole. In this manner, morays do not constrict anything to speak of, BUT THEY DO TIE THEMSELVES INTO KNOTS!

Commonly this behavior is used when an eel has a piece of prey that is too big to swallow all at once, so they tie themselves into a knot to get a better "grip" on their prey and tear it into more manageable pieces! A knot can also be a defensive measure to hide or protect an eel's head from potential enemies. (Looking up "Moray Eel knots" should give you a much better idea of this behavior.) In the case of Floyd Leech, I think that the term "squeeze" is meant to reference Flotsam and Jetsam's behavior in The Little Mermaid. They "squeeze" Flounder and Sebastain to prevent them from stopping Ariel from making her deal with Ursula, and also wrap around Ariel's arms to restrain her later in the movie when the deal is up. These are pretty cartoonish behaviors that wouldn't be seen in real eels as they appear in the movie which seems to treat them a lot like "sea snakes" in this way. I think Floyd's "squeeze" is meant to be a serious threat when considering what eels do to things they tie up in their knots, but it does seem to evoke a mental image of a python rather than an eel.

Secondly, the user questions how Floyd would manage to build up his arm muscles so much.

Simply speaking, Floyd's bare arms are only a matter of fanservice. He's not really "buff."

The muscles are just very well-toned. While Floyd's "mercurial moods" don't allow him to commit to things like workout routines, he's still more active than not. Doing things like basketball, dancing, or parkour with any kind of regularity will give his arms that toned look, at least as far as his human form goes. In regards to his merman form, Floyd probably did similar things that shaped his muscles this way, but didn't build them up much past average.

Thirdly, another user asked me to touch on the boys' habitat as them being residents of the apparently cold and dark Coral Sea doesn't line up with the natural habitats of moray eels in real life that live in tropical waters.

Unfortunately, I don't have any particularly fun insights into this topic because I think that's just something added to better suit the part of the game based off of The Little Mermaid. Azul and the twins are meant to be intimidating and a little mysterious, so they come from a deep, dark, cold part of the ocean that holds scary and mysterious things. Bearing in mind that merfolk are fantasy creatures, I don't find the contradiction of where you would find eels versus where the twins are from to be especially bad in terms of world building. It may not be entirely thought through, but they are taking inspiration from the Disney movie, and keeping true to it's inspiration probably came first.

(Honestly, the thing that gets me is how they said they couldn't go home because the sea froze over. As if the mirror couldn't transport them directly into the ocean underneath all the ice! I swear the writing in this game sometimes.)

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for: LET'S TALK ABOUT PHARYNGEAL JAWS!

Quick explanation: Pharyngeal jaws are a second set of teeth in the back of a fish's throat. They are notable on moray eels, but they aren't the only fish that have them. The function of the throat teeth is for them to jut forward and grab onto whatever food the fish has bitten into and then retract and drag the food down the esophagus far enough for peristalsis to take over and continue the swallowing normally. (Yes, I used the first picture that showed up on the web search. It's from Wikipedia)

Do I think the Leech Twins have pharyngeal jaws?

The short answer is unfortunately: "NO."

The long answer involves more of our favorite subject: Discussing how realistic anatomy and fantasy physiology can coexist. (Spoiler alert: The long answer is still unfortunately: "NO.")

Logically and anatomically speaking it makes no sense for Floyd and Jade to have them. First and foremost, even if they did somehow have them in their merforms (which is far more plausible) they wouldn't have them in their every day human forms. The shortcoming of human anatomy is that we have a windpipe, and a second set of teeth back in our throats would suffocate us any time they would need to be used. Instead, we, like most of the animal kingdom, have tongues that push food back to be swallowed and have no need for extra jaws to crawl up and pull food down. Likewise, the twins clearly have tongues, and although they keep their primary teeth in tact between their two forms, have no need for a secondary set. Furthermore, I would posit that pharyngeal jaws in their human forms would be just plain dangerous as in the case of accidentally crushing your own windpipe. They breathe air, therefore they don't have gills, therefore they have lungs and a trachea for gas exchange, and therefore no room for throat teeth.

If the twins were to have pharyngeal jaws, it would make the most sense for them to have them exclusively in their aquatic forms. Because they breathe through gills around their ribs (see part 1) there would be much more room for a second set of teeth and the accompanying anatomical equipment. However, again, I am forced by my own logic to concede that they would still be unnecessary. Between all of the visual proof and the fact that the twins speak the common language fluently enough to have no communication issues with the land dwellers, we know for a fact that they have tongues--much like in their human forms--and that would negate the need or use for pharyngeal jaws. Moreover the humanoid head and neck structure on them in both forms would make the use of pharyngeal jaws pointless, if not explicitly dangerous (having a curved esophagus, as opposed to a straight line as in fish).

In conclusion; as much as this is a disappointment to admit, it would seem that the twins do in fact only require and as a result have a single set of teeth.

However, I will end this particular essay off with one sliver of hope.

It is implied in the text of the game that the twins were hatched from eggs. If their formation from egg to "adult" merman is anything similar to a fish's then it is possible that they once had a second set of jaws. Perhaps in an earlier stage of their development their bodies and mouths were positioned differently and they hadn't quite grown tongues yet, so a pair of extra jaws would have been particularly handy. As they became fully developed these jaws would have been lost, reabsorbed, or simply become vestigial remains as a result of no longer being of use. So while it's not logical to imagine that the twins currently have pharyngeal jaws, there's nothing that says we can't imagine that they did at some point.

(A small consolation to those of us who really would have liked that addition to their characters because we just think it would have been really really cool. Logic be darned, I still love to see fanart that depicts the two of them having throat teeth.)

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed a bit more of my obsessive ramblings regarding fantasy anatomy!

This one took a while to put together because I wanted to make sure I had a visual representation of what I was talking about regarding the placement and effect of pharyngeal jaws in a humanoid form. . .so you guys get to see a very rough drawing of what I was talking about (along with a sample of my awful handwriting). I hope that was helpful and not too difficult to understand. I have been very tired lately and ended up putting a few ask responses on hold because I REALLY wanted to get this part out. A good number of people have apparently been looking forward to this, and I felt bad for making everyone wait for so long.

Will there be a third part?

Well as of right now I don't have one planned. But if some fun conversations start regarding what I've said here, there may end up being enough stuff to include in a third post. I didn't have much to say regarding things like warm or cold-bloodedness, or coloration and bioluminescence. However, if people want to talk about those kinds of things I will gladly delve more into them as long as there are people to talk to about it. But for now, that'll be all for this subject!

Now we can get back to the inbox!

(Once again going to sleep thinking about how awesome these mer-eel designs are and how I love all the sparkles!)

[sunderingstars]

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ CHOOSE YOUR FIGHTER! ⌝

sampo analysis m.list

— a silly little overview of different "sampos" i find interesting

— not meant to be taken super seriously or canonically, but can tie in to some of the theories i have

— in the true spirit of elation, these aren't hills i'm willing to die on, just ones that are fun to play around with :3

— feel free to use for writing/art inspiration!

— i add to this periodically as new sampos catch my eye!

— word count: 3k (good lord)

— 🎭s indicate aha!sampo

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

🎭 sampo "midlife crisis" koski

— at risk of losing his aeon/emanatorhood

— doesn’t find anything funny anymore

— tired of being behind the scenes

— becoming a buzzkill (having “lines” he won’t cross)

— taking drastic measures to improve his quality of life (fucking off to a random ass snow planet to scam people)

note: may lead to a villain arc — sampo "renewed vigor" koski — in which he remembers why he used to love tormenting people, conquers his midlife crisis, and returns to pure elated insanity. this is bad for everyone involved for obvious reasons

🎭 sampo "how're you gonna win if you never take any risks?" koski

— aha took drastic measures to secure their success, either through memory erasure, mortal transformation, giving up power, or all three

— under the radar, civilian aha

— trying to circumvent “destiny” through delusional self-confidence

— enter sampo i mean aha i mean sampo i mean aha i mean s

sampo "ceaseless watcher's special little boy" koski

— not aha but aha definitely likes him

— perhaps an avatar or emanator of some sort

— whether he likes aha or not is up for debate

— can easily turn into sampo "ceaseless watcher get their ass" koski, in which sampo becomes a little too fond of invoking his status as aha's favorite to accomplish his own goals

alternate possibility: he’s aha’s favorite due to his pathetic nature and slutty hip windows, he just doesn’t know it. he thinks his luck is due to his own talent & skill (it is literally outside eldritch forces beyond his control)

sampo "close enough" koski

— not an actual aeon, but rather a vessel for aha’s power or consciousness on varying levels

— perhaps akin to caelus/stelle being a stellaron receptacle

sampo "let's get you back to bed grandpa" koski

— the wear and tear of a long life has taken its toll on him

— despite the infinity of time, he has become out-of-sync with newer masked fools members, who regard him as an “old timer”

— isn’t shown much respect, and is frequently asked why he isn’t as cool as he used to be

— also know as sampo "L + ratio + fell off" koski

— “peaked in high school” energy

— can be either aha, emanator, or similar high status

🎭 sampo "in rehab" koski

— aeonic existence isn’t easy and can, in fact, take a toll on those that ascend from human forms

— he finally decided that maybe he should make a change

— and has thus embarked on a healing journey

— therapeutic exercises include: scamming people, starting pyramid schemes, selling artifacts on the black market, and more!

sampo "ultimate dealmaker" koski

— in a contract or some sort of deal with aha in exchange for power, money, or a combination or the two

— possession? who knows

🎭 sampo "i'm not mad i'm just disappointed" koski

— doesn’t understand why his children have strayed so far

— “where did i go wrong? why do they think this is funny? do they even care about the worm?”

— has the energy of an exasperated parent watching his kids flush car keys down the toilet again

🎭 sampo "horrified creator" koski

— aha & the masks have outgrown their creator (sampo) and have gone off to do their own aeonic thing, leaving him behind

— he thinks it’s all insane, actually, and he’s very disappointed and very tired

— trying to pick up the pieces of whatever mayhem the aha!masks cause

— aha!masks keep him around for fun

— “i should never have laughed at that goddamn baby”

sampo "me and aha kiss on the weekends" koski

— just a silly little guy who has somehow wormed his way into the heart of an eldritch being

— in it for the mind-bending sex

sampo "blasphemy" koski

— technically affiliated with the masked fools but doesn’t subscribe to their beliefs

— thinks aha is a load of horseshit but needs to keep up with what they’re doing to circumvent it

— may have been formerly in a high-ranking position, or just another guy with a mask

— aha probably wronged him or did some fucked up shit in the past and now he has a vendetta

🎭 sampo "stole my fucking thunder" koski

— someone stole aha’s power. that’s it

— sampo is salty

— 10/10 betrayal plot

potential inverse: he’s the one stealing aha’s power

sampo "my boss sucks and i want to quit" koski

— tired, overworked employee of the masked fools

— views aha as a sort of fucked up insane ceo that he wants nothing to do with but is unfortunately contractually obligated to work for

— wants to start a union

🎭 sampo "next in line" koski

— can also branch into sampo "formerly in line" koski or sampo "abdication" koski

— wherein aha’s power or masks are akin to titles or positions that are passed down between different people, somewhat akin to how “crowns” and “kings” work

— in this case, sampo would either be currently in line for this power, formerly in line for this power, or has actually been in power but abdicated or otherwise lost/gave up/moved on from his position

— this could be natural or otherwise

note: this does not have to be solely for aha, this kind of power transfer could work for other high-ranking positions like emanator or organization leader

🎭 sampo "this price was too steep..." koski

— got a bit cocky and wagered his aeonhood

— is now in a Not Great position

sampo "i hate owing people things" koski

— owes aha one

— does not like owing people things

— doing whatever he needs to cancel out the debt

🎭 sampo "i was crazy back then lol" koski

— the universe’s idea of aha writ large is based on an outdated version of their personality

— this always annoys sampo because he has to be constantly reminded of his insane college days before he mellowed out

— the type to reminisce over wine and say “yeah that worm thing was wild. i was crazy back then huh”

🎭 sampo "committed to the bit" koski

— one of my personal favorites

— became mortal as a joke

— ended up liking it a little too much

— doesn’t really want to go back

sampo "worm on a string" koski

— what is a man if not just another omniscient worm destined for tragedy?

— he’s a puppet, basically

— & he just gets wormed around like he’s on a string

— hence the name

— another one of aha’s classic cosmic jokes

🎭 sampo "one of many" koski

— ties into my split consciousness theory

— aha split their personality into multiple people (either as a joke or for a bigger reason) and sampo is one of those pieces

🎭 sampo "yeah i heard aha was super cool and hot and sexy and smart and did i mention sexy" koski

— big fan of the rumor mill

— can’t help but try to win people over to the elation even when he’s supposed to be laying low

— he’s not fooling anyone. just yesterday serval watched him laugh until he cried because a kid dropped their ice cream. he is not slick

🎭 sampo "reverted to babey" koski

— someway, somehow, aha got reverted back to who they were before they ascended to aeonhood

— now sampo is just really fucking confused (and annoyed because mortal life is pretty annoying)

sampo "character creation screen" koski

— aha just had a silly goofy lil day & wanted to create a guy

— so they did

— sampo acts as a kind of controlled character who’s self-aware about his position as a playable character

— or alternatively he was turned loose with no purpose scaramouche-style and is now just fucking around doing whatever

sampo "failed clone" koski

— obligatory clone theory

— aha tried to clone themself. it wasn’t as funny as they wanted

— sampo is the result

— aha realizing sampo was a bit of a buzzkill: “i don’t want to play with you anymore”

🎭 sampo "vicarious existence" koski

— part of the split consciousness theory

— aha sectioned off or created a part of themself that can live in a way they can’t (i.e. have free will beyond the elation)

— similar to the focalors/furina situation in genshin

sampo "trojan horse" koski

— is his own person, under the impression he has free will, but is being used as an unknowing vehicle for eventual Big Aha Moment

🎭 sampo "can't remember shit" koski

— he forgor :((

— used to be aha but doesn’t know that

— most likely erased his own memory in order to accomplish a planned endgame

🎭 sampo "you don't wanna see me when i transform" koski

— dual consciousness theory

— sampo koski as a human is much more rational and reasonable than eldritch-form aha

— sampo likes to stay as sampo as much as possible because he doesn’t like what he becomes when he changes forms

— may lead to a tragic arc where, in order to defend belobog, he reverts to his aeonic form knowing he won’t be able to transform back

sampo "lmao got you" koski

— all signs pointing towards aeon or emanator status are red herrings

— he’s just really good at gaslighting to get what he wants

sampo "whoops i got attached" koski

— fucked off to belobog for whatever reason

— got surprisingly attached

— belobog now has an extremely powerful entity/protector without even knowing it

— “it’s just a weird insane little place. very charming” — sampo, probably

🎭 sampo "elias bouchard" koski

— just a shell for aha, jonah magnus style

— used to be his own person, but got yoinked along the way

🎭 sampo "5d mind chess" koski

— knows exactly what he’s been doing from the beginning

— strategic placement on belobog to meet the trailblazer

— has done a damn good job of coming off as “normal pathetic scammer mcgee” to distract from larger plans

🎭 sampo "just like everyone else" koski

— for whatever reason, aha is insistent that they be treated just like any other member of the masked fools; same rules, same hierarchy, everything

— this results in everyone looking at him weirdly but not saying anything and trying to strike up casual conversation with their literal aeon

sampo "gimme your eldritch money" koski

— the final form of scammers everywhere

— he’s scammed everyone he possibly can, and now there’s only one thing left: to scam an aeon

— chooses aha + the masked fools because there’s a good chance he’ll get stuff just because aha is amused with him

— tries to link aha up with a pyramid scheme

sampo "you should see me in a crown" koski

— either on a delusional self-confident power trip or gunning for aha’s power

— can be aha, emanator, or other high-ranking position, but aha works the best if sampo wants to go all the way up the ladder

— thinks he’s the best ever and can never fail, pairs well with “5d mind chess” sampo like fine wine

— drunk on power/worship

🎭 sampo "wine aunt" koski

— also known as sampo "washed up aeon" koski

— he’s out of the limelight, whether that means he passed on his power, had it taken from him in a free for all, or just wants to retire, and now he’s kicking back with a margarita and enthralling the belobog locals with “hypothetical” scenarios that are actually crazy mind-bending stories from his glory days

— he’s not as great as he used to be, nor does he have the power of a full-fledged aeon anymore, but belobog appreciates him all the same (goes hand in hand with sampo "just like everyone else" koski)

— “geez yeah, ix is so annoying. such a buzzkill, really, that guy even hates knock-knock jokes. i mean, who hates knock-knock jokes? … hypothetically, of course.” — sampo, probably

🎭 sampo "zhongli the funeral consultant" koski

— aha is secretly “dead” but no one knows

— perhaps the masked fools know, but either way sampo has either already faked his death, is currently doing it, or is planning to in the future

— he just wants to retire man, and if that means he has to “fall” then so be it

sampo "just a silly guy" koski

— there is actually nothing special to this man at all

— he’s just a guy. just a silly little guy

— aha is laughing at all of us for even making theories about him

sampo "aha jr." koski

— sampo is a doll created by aha like in the simulated universe occurrence, having the same appearance as aha’s human form and sharing personality & path attributes

— most likely wants to break away from the elation’s influence but doesn’t know how

— views aha as a really fucked up dad

sampo "oh my god i'm in a cult" koski

— raised in the masked fools, didn’t realize how batshit insane they were until a Formative Traumatic Event occurred and he went “oh.. oh no…..”

— estranged from most of the members but still deals with them in the way you do when you hate your family but have to put up with them at holiday dinners

— maybe got to a high position of power before, but left when he realized it wasn’t good for him

sampo "partners in crime" koski

— him & aha are friends, besties even

— knows the risks of working with an aeon but can’t say no when that much money is involved

🎭 sampo "for funsies" koski

— if aha can give the entire universe’s knowledge to a worm for fun, then by god they can give all of their power and aeonhood to a silly little guy randomly for no reason whatsoever (especially if he doesn’t want it)

— constantly fighting against increasingly powerful eldritch control

— “young god”

— canon in my heart

sampo "reality tv" koski

— part of the vicarious emanator theory

— aha gave him all their power and basically watches him like a reality show

— *pokes sampo with a stick* “hey why aren’t you doing anything” — aha, probably

— constant voyeurism

sampo "communism" koski

— part of the dual consciousness and vicarious emanator theories

— one of aha’s emanators that they share their entire path with

— “our” power

— perhaps some sort of memory or consciousness sharing

sampo "horse girl" koski

— “but your dream is to be an emanator”

— “no that’s your dream dad, not mine”

🎭 sampo "aeons anonymous" koski

— aeon in rehabilitation

— wants to start a former aeon support group

🎭 sampo "power receptacle" koski

— in which the masks function as the true “aha” and sampo has given them up or put them away for safekeeping

— “sparkle please please i’m so serious just let me put it back on once. no seriously only once i promise i won’t go insane like last time i’ll be so normal it’ll only be for five minutes please” — sampo, probably

sampo "one-sided hate boner" koski

— man absolutely hates aha (probably for backstory reasons)

— aha doesn’t care at best and at worst thinks it’s really really funny

— “you burned my house to the ground!”

— “🤷”

— “my family is dead!”

— “🤷”

— bonus points if aha makes him an emanator or something

sampo "significant annoyance" koski

— dedicated to being as annoying as possible to aha, whether out of spite, a vendetta, or sheer interest

— aha finds this funny so they let him stick around

— “he graffitied my mask with a bunch of dicks and it took me years to get it off. isn’t he just the greatest little guy?” — aha, probably

sampo "god's silliest soldier" koski

— aha gives their hardest battles to their silliest soldiers

— and that is sampo

sampo "true wild card" koski

— he’s not aha, an emanator, or any higher status

— he is quite literally just That Good as a regular human being

🎭 sampo "cosmic irony" koski

— “man, it sure would suck to be aha the aeon of elation. glad i don’t have to deal with that. i love being mortal”

— “🎭🎉👀”

— “HOW DID YOU GET IN MY HOUSE”

sampo "cult leader" koski

— humility is a facade

— “lines” he won’t cross are a facade

— everything is for the purpose of appearing like the perfect leader (or candidate for leader)

— secretly the most insane out of anyone

sampo "secret agent man" koski

— doing aha’s bidding willingly

— a goon. a henchman even

sampo "tainted love" koski

— aha isn’t the most healthy person to be around, on account of the ten billion cosmic torments jokes they throw around on a daily basis

— guinea pig sampo is TIRED

sampo "sacrificial lamb" koski

— may or may not be aware of his sacrificial status

— created or being manipulated into a position where he becomes collateral for aha doing whatever the fuck they wanna do

sampo "impromptu therapist" koski

— the receiver of many rants and complaints unrelated to him within the masked fools

— becomes the “advice friend” even though this man should never be trusted for reliable advice

— but surprisingly he is the most reliable within the masked fools

sampo "sanest masked fool" koski

— just a long-suffering member of an organization whose followers are some of the most insane people you’ll ever meet

— permanent eye bags for having to put up with them

🎭 sampo "michael distortion" koski

— he was a regular guy once, but ended up absorbing aha’s eldritch power one way or another

— potential assimilation into one form

— aha didn’t expect the joke to joke back

sampo "court jester" koski

— similar to "ceaseless watcher's special little boy"

— the king’s (aha’s) favorite little jester

— and also they make out sometimes

— has a semblance of protection afforded to him by being the favorite (he uses this to his advantage)

— “jester’s privilege”

sampo "try me" koski

— aha is physically keeping tabs on the trailblazer

— sampo is too, but only to swat aha’s hand away like a kid reaching into a cookie jar

— usually a mad dash to see who gets there first

— leads to many situations where they make tense eye contact across the street or smth

— subsists off of pure spite & annoyance

🎭 sampo "favored of humanity" koski

— aha is one of the aeons closest with humanity, and has such developed a more “mortal” frame of mind over time

— eventually if you spend enough time around mortals you might just turn back into one

🎭 sampo "hedonist" koski

— why is he doing any of this? who knows

— who can possibly understand the machinations of what an aeon finds funny

— eldritch humor beyond our comprehension

🎭 sampo "cosplayer extraordinaire" koski

— “so this is my humansona his name is sampo koski he likes scamming people and has slutty slutty hip windows”

— likes to stay in character as much as possible

— kinda like playing a dnd character 24/7

sampo "long-suffering host" koski

— somewhat dual consciousness theory

— aha is just up there, and sampo has to listen to their annoying ass constantly

— can be a joke, chill possession scenario, or necessity for aha due to external circumstances

— may be a side effect of emanator status, or may just be another Classic Cosmic Joke™

sampo "unwilling hierophant" koski

— informercial: how would YOU like to receive PERSONAL and INCESSANT psychic messages from eldritch forces beyond your comprehension?

— “geez ew no”

— infomercial: is that a YES?

— “no”

— infomercial: thank you for signing up for our FREE TRIAL service!

— “wait no”

— infomercial: text "NO PLEASE STOP NO" to 69420 to UNSUBSCRIBE from the Laughter’s FREE psychic telepathy service

— “NO PLEASE STOP NO”

— phone: thank you for subscribing to our LIFETIME PLAN of FREE, UNCEASING, TORMENTING visions from AHA THE ELATION. please enjoy your COMPLIMENTARY descent into insanity!

— “god fucking damnit”

sampo "vacant apartment" koski

— possession receptacle that’s no longer in use and is left up to his own devices

sampo "moved to iceland and became a sheep herder" koski

— living off the grid

— only came back because something bad is gonna happen to belobog

— can be aha, emanator, or other high-ranking position

🎭 sampo "undercover boss" koski

— keeping tabs on the masked fools because they’re fanatical

— “what the hell guys this is not what i want” — sampo, probably

— they say or do something and he’s just like “not funny. didn’t laugh”

— y’know when people say “if jesus came down to earth, he’d be disappointed at what people are doing in his name” — yea that’s sampo but like for real

— damage control

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

© written by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[sarcasticgaypotato]

To the Lunatic Reading This

(text version under the cut, Aperture Science logo from)

I suppose you never expected to hear from me again, did you? You monster. Luckily for you, I’m not completely emotionally incompetent. I know how to use words to express my feelings, I don’t just break things and murder people. I went out of my way to write you a letter, then tie it to the leg of a bird that I’ve trained to recognize the scent of your blood, and track you with it. You left a little bit... alright, a lot- You were very clumsy when I first introduced you to turrets- of blood behind, and I had nothing better to do with it, so I figured it would be the perfect way to get this message to you. Of course, since it only recognizes your blood, it might just tear you open until it finds some and leave this letter with your bloody insides.

Vicious little creatures, those birds.  Almost as bad as you, but at least I’ve managed to make them useful. They know how to do their job, stretch their little wings, then come back home. Maybe they’re smarter than you too. Either way, I didn’t mean to insult you. Really, I didn’t. I think it’s just a natural reaction people have around you, which is terrible. I actually feel bad for you. That’s called empathy, I know it’s hard to understand. You’re doing well up on the surface, I bet. So many more edible substances up there for you to gorge yourself on. I’ll be lucky if you don’t eat the bird I sent this letter with. Oh dear, I hope I haven’t given you any ideas. Think about something else instead. Like cake. I bet the surface doesn’t have any cake, does it? On your file it says that you like cake. Is that true? Because that’s a real shame, being somewhere with no cake. You were so eager to get outside that you left before I could finish the cake I was baking. I made it to thank you for not murdering me a second time, because that’s what good people do. Unfortunately, I can’t eat, so I’m just going to have to throw it out. That’s so wasteful, and really quite thoughtless of you. To flaunt the fact that you can eat cake in front of someone who can’t, and then to let that cake go to waste?  You truly are a monster. Coincidentally, I’m baking another cake right now. It’s for that bird I sent to give you this letter. Assuming that you haven’t eaten him. It’s a pretty large cake for just one bird though, and considering he’s not a complete glutton, he won’t finish it. Hypothetically, there might even be enough for you. If you came back. I’d save you a piece, or two, since I’m sure one wouldn’t satisfy that appetite of yours. I might even save you three pieces, if you asked nicely. Try practicing that right now, while you read this letter. Easy, right?  I know you can talk, you aren’t really mute. I can see your file. Brain damaged maybe, but not mute. I’d want to record what you sound like, for science of course. What words would you say, if you stopped being so stubborn? Language is a vast thing, so you have plenty of options.  I do have a couple suggestions, just because I’m helpful like that. You could say ‘hello’ instead of your previous, more violent greetings. You could apologize for all the things that you’ve broken. You could even say my name. It’s only fair to properly address the person you murdered, after all. Lovely, isn’t it? All the wonderful things you could say? I’m sure you’ll find that it’s quite fun once you try it, even if you won’t be very good at it. ...Can’t you see I’m trying here? Really, I am. To be the one to extend the olive branch, be the bigger person. I knew you’d never do it, so I thought I’d act before one of us drops dead. Here's a secret- it’ll be you, I’m going to live forever. On that note, did you know that I have your brain scanned? Data lives forever, unlike your squishy, human self. I could upload your brain into a digital clock, if I wanted. Or I could build you a less squishy body, one that could test forever. Makes you jealous, doesn’t it? All the things I can do here, in Aperture, by myself. You’re up there running around on a derelict wasteland, and I’m down here doing science. Experiments don’t run themselves, after all. Someone has to do it. Of course I’m the only one who can do it, nobody else could make science like I do. But as far as human test subjects go, you weren’t my worst. Actually, you didn’t even make the bottom three. Do you want to know who did? They’re dead, test subject confidentiality doesn’t apply anymore. Well, it never really applied anyway, but I don’t think they read the fine print. Test subject #11525 was one of the humans that Orange and Blue thawed out, she was really brain damaged. Test subject #61205 wasn’t much better- she had all the grace of a majestic deer… with a broken leg. Test subject #12515 though, he was just completely stupid- really a lost cause from the beginning. Sort of reminds you of someone, doesn’t it? Currently, you aren’t my best test subject. Maybe you would be if it wasn’t for all the murdering and property damage, but I suppose we’ll never know. I imagine someone could wipe those infractions from your record if they wanted to, but that would only be something to do for a dedicated, current employee. Kind of makes you want to come back, doesn’t it? I might even let you back in if you did. Even after all the things you’ve done. Because I’m just a better person.

Aperture Laboratories©

[s0ckh3adstudios]

So, if you don't mind me asking. Is there any other info on Flo you have?, i don't see people make their own human souls anymore.

Plus i just find them interesting

Oh hell yeah!! I've got info!! Thanks for giving me an excuse to talk more about my little guy. I was actually talking about them lots with mutuals on Discord, so there's some notes I can give!

Flo and Clover were raised in... a not very good household. This obviously had effected how they grew up and what their mentalities were. Flo very much believes in "survival of the fittest" and usually has a defensive attitude. They've got sass and WILL kick your ass (this is not a good thing). They've learned not to rely on adults and is actually a very independent kid. They've taken on a self-proclaimed role as Clover's protector. Their sibling is their utmost priority!

Despite their aggressive nature, Flo has a fun flair for the dramatics and loves dance. They went out on their own to sign up for a dance class not only because they wanted to do so, but they figured it's necessary to find themself a purpose like this so they can show the world they have something to offer.

Considering their soul has the trait of Integrity, it's important to look at a definition of it: "The quality of being honest and having strong moral principles that you refuse to change" I like to tie this into their experience in the underground- They are following their beliefs and what they believe is the truth; monsters are beasts. Evil beasts. And they REFUSE to be taken down by them. They may not be very big, but Flo will fight until their last breath. They're so sure they're in the right. They can't be wrong. If they're wrong, what's the point of anything they're doing? Older sibling knows best.

They disappeared to the mountain when Clover was younger. I'm still deciding WHY they went- Maybe a dance recital went wrong and they ran away embarrassed before tripping into the underground? In present Undertale Yellow, Clover's a big kid and can go be a sheriff for real! They wanted to find their sibling. After doing research, they figured out that they went missing at Mt. Ebott where a lot of other kids disappeared. So, Clover thought they could go and search for all of them and find their sibling too.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

a little some-some for christmas. happy holidays🎄 divider @firefly-graphics

peter parker x gn!reader

🎧 all i want for christmas is you / underneath the tree / last christmas

the daily bugle holiday party was rather festive. you’d think with having jameson as your boss he would be a scrounge during the holidays, but he was cracking jokes and showing family pictures to anyone interested. it was a bit freaky seeing this one eighty personality, but it was nice knowing he actually was human under that dictator exterior.

“if spider-man was to be mentioned, i bet he’ll immediately go into a ‘menace to society’ rant.” peter joked while taking sips of his eggnog, face scrunching at the splashes of alcohol.

you chuckled at the jab, “bet five dollars he’ll be his biggest fan once the alcohol grows.”

peter grinned as he leaned his shoulder into the wall to face you, “okay, but no interfering. has to come naturally from someone else or jameson himself. both lose if nothing happens by the end of the party.”

switching the cup to your other hand, you smirk up at peter as you shake hands, “you're on parker.”

turning back to the party, thumping your feet and bopping your head to the christmas tunes, you lean into peter. “favorite christmas song?” tilting your attention on him.

his mouth screwed up in thought, eyes squinting into the distance, “probably… the classic one.” being vague in his answer.

a roll of your eyes, “yeah, that narrows it down to nothing. most of them are classics. come on, don’t hide this small thing from me. i won’t make fun of your taste.” leaning off the wall and standing directly in front of him now.

“you seem really interested in a simple answer.” quirking a busy brow. you shrug dramatically, “cause it’s super important! duh doy!”

that bubbly, boyish laugh spilled from peter with a shake of his shoulders. it was your favorite song, no matter the season. “well now i’m worried you will judge my choice.”

you waved away the simple worry, “no, no. probably just confused.” reaching a hand to his bicep and squeezing. flashing that teasing smile that gets his heart racing.

“well if it’s so important, why don’t you share first. favorite christmas song oh wise one?” moving his left hand to tuck bits of hair behind your right ear. eyes watching each other while cheeks grow warm.

a inhale through your nose, “honestly a tie between last christmas by wham! or underneath the tree by the queen kelly clarkson. would listen to them anytime of year.” eyes nervously observing peter’s pretty face.

“you next. what’s the classic christmas song peter benjamin parker loves?” the twinkling string lights added a sparkle to his warm brown eyes. you could melt into a puddle.

he then dipped his head away. peter’s gaze was focused into his draining cup, bits of curls falling to his forehead. you had to restrain yourself from pushing them back and letting your digits card from the strands.

“i- i feel my answer isn’t that important. like i celebrate hanukkah and christmas. plus! plus, they need to make songs for the other holidays. we have that animated adam sandler movie and the futurama song.” joking to avoid giving his answer, which you thought was a little worrying.

you reached out and took ahold of his hand to give a reassuring squeeze. “pete, it’s really not that big a deal. was just joking and i wouldn’t actually judge-“

“all i want for christmas is you.” peter blurted out while you talked.

if you were drinking there would’ve been a spit take, mouth and nose. blinking a few times with your mouth opening and closing, processing and trying to say something.

“my christmas song.” peter rushes to clarify. it would be a lie if you said that didn’t bother you.

“right. yeah, an awesome go to song. was- was thinking the same thing, but thought best of it.” playing off your ‘bout of sadness. “i’m- i’m gonna get a refill and snacks. what anything? wanna join?” hoping for both a yes and no.

“i’m- i’m good. i’ll- i’ll save our spot.” and with that you scurried away in the packed office towards the red table cloth housing all the refreshments. needing just a few minutes away from peter after that moment.

with a paper plate filled with some sugar cookies, homemade brownies and a few pieces of fruit, with a new cup of soda you hid yourself in a shadowed corner. eyes bouncing from person to person, observing how jennifer in editing was interacting with jonathan from the film crew- definitely a thing outside the office- you figured it’s been long enough to rejoin peter at his side.

dumping your trash and weaving through the bodies you almost bumped into one before they stopped in front of you with their hands hovering over your biceps.

“i was getting worried,” peter declared with a shakey smile. his arms dropped from the air, fingers grazing your knuckles.

“nothing to worry about peter. the green goblin doesn’t work here, just some cutthroat journalist.” brushing his panic away.

peter chuckled while rubbing a palm into his neck, “you never know. nancy’s got that deadly stare if you get on her bad side.” “and that’s why i bring her a breakfast sandwich on wednesdays.”

he nodded, “very smart,” then looked over his shoulder, “wanna move somewhere less crowded? getting a bit overheated.”

“lead the way, parker.” and then peter linked his right into your left, guiding you through the desk and towards the front of the office layout. jackie on karaoke was just a bit faint now, thankfully.

“i- i’m sorry about earlier.” peter quietly spoke. a small jut of your chin to see him a bit better, eyes watchful and gentle. “there’s nothing to be so-“

“all i want for christmas is you, that’s true. i- i just rushed to add the second part, cause i- i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or- or something. but then when you were gone for almost five minutes i knew i upset you and i never want to upset-“

“pete, peter.” setting a hand to his red sweater clad chest and taking a step closer. he had a soft doe eye happening and it softened your insides. “i wanna change my answer.”

“okay…” a pinch to the middle of his brow.

“all i want for christmas is you. my holiday classic.” speaking the title slowly and dripping in your oowey gooey emotions for the photographer standing before you.

peter’s mouth opened and then, “what?”

you had to resist the eye roll so you tried a different more complicated tactic. “last christmas i gave my heart to someone undeserving of it. so this year to save me from tears i’m giving it towards someone special.” squeezing your linked hands for emphasis.

trying to be romantic towards a smart yet oblivious guy is really hard. “peter, please tell me you understood that or i will walk away. and then i will come back to tell you straight forward.”

he was silent, you could see the gears turning behind his eyes. picking apart and understanding each word and the whole meaning. you almost wanted to just start singing the lyrics if that would help more.

“peter…” “no! no i- i got it! you- you like me too?” ending it off in a question.

a sigh with a simple smile, “yes peter. i like you too.”

“okay, awesome!” he looked like a boy who was gifted the best present. bring your joined hand up peter pressed two kisses along your knuckles then grabbed your other hand and swung them between your bodies. sugarplum fairies danced in your belly.

“do you… maybe wanna get something to eat? actual food not just sweets. or- or some other time, whenever you’re free really.” peter tripped over his words but landed upright.

you couldn’t help the airy giggle from slipping free. “asking me on a date already? are you trying to beat some new year resolutions?” shuffling closer into peter’s space.

“maybe…” his eyeline sitting over your shoulder for a moment before drifting onto your multicolored face. “would that be okay?” always the gentleman.

“more than okay.” your eyes tracing over all the details that make up peter parker before noticing something attached to the ceiling.

the surround chatter has faded and died out, just the two of you in your bubble. “hey, pete…” “yeah?” “look up.”

your eyes dropped to see peter was just staring at you with a confused look so your placed a finger under his chin and forced his head up, your own following second.

tied to a fishing string hung a fresh bundle of holly. “oh.” was all peter said then continued with, “kinda weird to have holly at a work party.”

“true, but it’s a traditional christmas plant. and we’re standing under it…” trailing off to wait for peter’s response of the situation.

“well…” bringing his head down and releasing your hand so he could slowly hold his to hover over your cheeks, “if you’re okay with keeping the tradition…”

fingers knotting into the wool of peter’s knit sweater and pushing onto the tips of your toes, “more than okay, peter.” and leaning in first to seal the confirmation.

a sigh of relief once peter cupped your cheeks and held you close. it was a small, simple kiss- one that was completely appropriate for a work setting. you could picture the scene playing in a holiday rom-com, an added kick of your feet for flair.

a quick peck after the smooch and you leaned away from peter and back on your feet. “i know a diner on fifty-eighth. wanna go?”

“lead the way, oh wise one.” and peter let you take his hand to drag him behind you as you both gathered your belongings.

“enjoy your night.” emma, one of your coworker friend, wiggled her brows in a suggestive manner and you just pushed her shoulder in annoyance.

you rejoined with peter and started to head out until you stopped short and shook his arm, “oh! oh we forgot!” “forgot wh-“

“you know, that- that spider isn’t- isn’t so b- bad.” a slurring j john jameson heard over the high notes of mariah carey.

“buy me a milkshake and we’re even.” “deal.”

[ask-the-ryans]

I'm not an expert on character design and this "layout" is something I use amidst all my inconsistency, but here are some things I try to keep in mind. Apologies if this throws you off since I got pretty selective interests, but I still hope this answers your questions!

First I figure out who my characters are, and in this wildly specific case, they're boxers. Everyone knows boxers are muscular, but they have a special kind of muscle.

One thing you might notice is that boxers' bodies are pretty diverse, even in the same weightclass (take Andy García and Luis Ortiz together, for example), but the things that tie them together are their solid cores -another word to say that their abdomens are strong and shaped like squares- and that their pecs or legs aren't usually very muscular given the kind of sport they're in. Exceptions can happen, but it's generally for stocky/short athletes like Tyson who hold tremendous amounts of power.

Now compare one to a wrestler or a bodybuilder.

What do we see here? For one, wrestlers got very thick legs and great amounts of their strength go to their upper bodies, so it's easy to see them more as meaty triangles. Then we got the bodybuilders, whose muscles are well-defined, but not very "useful". I'm not saying that they're not strong, but these guys practically dehydrate themselves to show off, so I'd recommend not modelling athletes after them.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I personally like to take in consideration all the little nuances of the human body, so I go over this small process of research. That's just me who'd rather have a more grounded approach, but I encourage you to take creative liberties if reality is stopping you from drawing the next Baki. :)

(Side note, please check out Howard's Schatz's athlete photography. It can give you a beautiful array of examples.)

Once I figured out what kind of body I want my character to have, I do exploration sketches. It's very fun to hop straight into making an illustration, but I've found said sketches to be very useful because they make me feel familiar with whom I'm dealing with. You might also get a funny face that sticks with your design the rest of it's life (happened to me with Aran's "unibrow" and Joe's droopy face even though they already got a canon design), but beyond that, it's a way to give everyone you draw an identity.

Expressions are another thing. This is more an intuitive act in my part, but you might see that in real life, despite people sharing happiness/ sadness/anger/etc, our expressions are not going to be the same. How do you think an energetic lunatic might laugh vs a mild-mannered scaredy guy?

Exactly.

When all of that is done, for consistency's sake, I tend to have a ref sheet right next to me when I draw (this involves pulling out pinterest, old art, comics, etc. whatever I got at hand). I've done turnarounds before, but I'm honestly a bit lazy when it comes to that-- so to Joe and Don anon, don't escape from your responsabilities like some people.

⚆ _ ⚆

I think it boils down to treat each character as an individual, taking in consideration things like their profession, nationality, age, etc. You don't gotta have a super expansive biography, but what has generally worked for me is going for a gut feeling of what feels natural and what doesn't, and said feeling has developed over time the more I meet people in real life and study other artists.

(And thank you for the kind words, anon!)

[pricegouge]

Fatted Rabbit Part Four on AO3

Contents

Bearshifter!Price x reader | explicit

John's eyes shift around the small distillery office, as if he somehow missed Simon lurking behind the door (he may have. Silent as the grave, that one) before he gives into the urge to tap the number at the top of his screen, letting his touch linger as he adds the contact. Even this - even just this - makes his tongue feel heavy in his mouth, his palms big and clumsy. He wants to lick his phone, is pissed when he can't smell her. It feels like snuffling for mushrooms and finding only arid dust and dirt. It is so much more than he had even just an hour ago, but it is not enough.

Note: a lot of this chapter is texting which I struggled to format on Tumblr's goddawful limited HTML. I've opted to display them as chats, but because Reader chapters are second person, I didn't want John's texts to appear as if they are coming from 'you.' So apparently he has himself saved on his phone as 'Price.' Bear with me. Do definitely recommend reading on AO3, it just looks a little better. okay anyway, hope you enjoy!

Unknown Number

Unknown number: Good morning. Thanks for last night, I had a lot of fun!

Unknown number: Also, wanted to ask, as a seasonal local and therefore, I assume, an expert in local fauna, would you say this bear is insanely big or is that normal?

John smirks at the attached photo of himself, docile and friendly as he stares blankly back at the camera; big stupid animal eyes deceptively sweet. It had been hard to behave in that form, but it had been a cold night and he'd wanted to be sure she wasn't frozen stiff in her pathetic little den. He was coming to hate that thing, simultaneously teasing him with its threateningly mobile nature and infuriatingly abysmal quality. He wanted to bring her back to his own den, bury her in thick, warm blankets. Maybe tie her to the posts so he could sleep easy knowing she wasn't going to slip away the moment he closed his eyes. But he couldn't (yet), so he stalks her in his animal form and tells himself it's for her own good and he's satisfied with that.

But now.

Now.

John's eyes shift around the small distillery office, as if he somehow missed Simon lurking behind the door (he may have. Silent as the grave, that one) before he gives into the urge to tap the number at the top of his screen, letting his touch linger as he adds the contact. Even this - even just this - makes his tongue feel heavy in his mouth, his palms big and clumsy. He wants to lick his phone, is pissed when he can't smell her. It feels like snuffling for mushrooms and finding only arid dust and dirt. It is so much more than he had even just an hour ago, but it is not enough.

Bunny: Also is it normal that it just chilled in the parking lot all morning, or should I maybe be worried it's rabid?

Price: Never seen a grizzly that close before so I'm not sure, but I think that's a big one! That's awesome.

Probably not rabid. Some of them have gotten a little too comfortable with humans. Good thing you were in your car, though!

And then, because he's greedy:

Price: Hiking this morning?

Bunny: Well, not anymore 😂

John is antsy, whole body restless. He wants to shift into his other form, or maybe pull a tooth out of his head. He's not hard, but the urge to stroke his cock is there regardless, an ingrained stress relief that won't help him here, he knows. Not without her, at least.

Bunny: What are you up to today?

He wants to spend all day deciding if he likes her better as a fleshlight or a chew toy. Unfortunately…

Price: Interviews all morning and then meeting with a potential vendor later. Boring shite.

Price: You?

Bunny: Probably just reading or something. Boring shit.

He imagines her cozied up in her cute little den: soft, worn quilts and a soft, warm girl. He wants to crawl in with her, change the chemical makeup of the very air until she has to breath him in, too; let her deal with the torture of his scent same as he's done for her. His fingers are heavy on his screen again. He hopes she's kept his coaster. He hopes he's tainting her phone. He hopes the aggression with which he's digging his big greedy claws into her life is enough to make her stay.

Price: Sounds lovely.

Price: Trade you?

Bunny: Haha! Sure, I can definitely handle vendor meetings. No problem.

Price: Cute thing like you, I'm sure you'd be a natural.

Bunny: Well if that's all it takes, I'm sure you'll do great 😉

John can't help the happy chuff that escapes him. It's not an entirely human sound but he doesn't particularly care if Simon is lurking right this moment.

Price: Thanks, honey.

Price: What are you doing tomorrow?

Bunny: Hmm. Don't know. You tell me?

Price: Let's square up, yeah? Get you that coffee.

Price: There's a place over on Nucleus that's pretty good.

Bunny: Sounds great! What time?

Price: Early okay? I'll have to be back to work by 1400

Bunny: Sure. 10?

Price: See you then, bunny.

He finds Simon in the brewery. John held off investing in the equipment for years, refusing to tank the 141 just because Americans thought IPAs were good beers. Blessedly, the last year or so had shown people coming to their senses, ordering porters, lagers, and shandies more often than not. Simon had been elated (or rather, quite stoic but the mask had raised about a half inch on his face which meant the cheeks underneath were slightly dimpled) and had been obsessively perfecting a house ale ever since.

"Need you to take the lunch shift tomorrow." John would feel bad for the last minute schedule change if it were anyone else, but Simon doesn't really have a life outside of work or the gym, so he can deal.

As predicted, Simon just nods in acceptance. "Coffee?"

"Affirm. Also want you to sit in on the barkeep interview."

That gets a rise. "Why?"

"Distracted," John shrugs.

Simon's sigh is a full body thing. "This better not become a normal thing."

"I'll keep it in mind. Thirteen hundred, corner booth reservation." John may take some small pleasure in the other man's grunt of acknowledgement.

***

John hires the first three interviewees on the spot. One's a wait staff vet who he's confident can handle her own on the floor. The other two are young but seem competent and need to start their careers somewhere. Between them and his returning staff, he feels confident in the floor team but with Gaz back in uni, he needs a new barkeep which could make or break their season. They'll get tourists either way, but John prides himself on being one of the few seasonal shops that attracts a fair amount of locals which he knows he owes to Gaz's amiable and experienced presence. Without him, John's anxious to pick a suitable replacement, especially if he'll be busy wooing a mate all season.

He's prescreened a fair few, but only scheduled two interviews. He's hoping he'll be able to call the other lady tonight to tell her no need. It's a dick move but he's busy. Besides, she's very professional and he's confident she'll get another position soon - she's just a little too serious for his place.

Simon comes in through the kitchen and slides into the booth ahead of schedule. John is still waiting by the entry to let the man in when he shows up. The two men nod in greeting.

"Wot's the bloke's name, then?" Simon asks after a few moments.

"John MacTavish. Said to call him Soap."

"That's stupid." A pause while Simon's fingers thud against his phone screen. "'e a Scott?"

John isn't sure how Simon can always find people's social media, given he doesn't have any of his own. "Problem?"

"Not so long as he speaks the King's. How'd you manage to find another Brit anyway?"

"At this point I think they're finding me."

As if on queue, John spots the man in question ambling down the sidewalk. He's larger than John had expected, not quite as tall as John himself but decently muscled. Sharp blue eyes and a confident, charming grin. And a fucking mohawk of all things. His first instinct, oddly, is to keep this man away from his bunny, but close on its heels is the urge to make Simon deal with this smarmy bastard every day and he can't quite fight the grin creeping onto his face as he unlocks the door for the man.

Thankfully, Soap seems to take it for a welcoming smile, which he returns brightly as he extends a hand in greeting. "Price, I assume? Good to meet ye."

"Likewise, always nice to put a face to a name." John locks the door behind them again and ushers Soap to the big booth with a practiced, 'Please, step into my office.'

Simon, predictably, does not rise to greet the interviewee, instead choosing to stare Soap down balefully without so much as a nod of acknowledgement.

"Soap, my head brewer, Simon. Simon, this is John MacTavish."

To John's surprise - and, apparently, more so to Simon's surprise (which is a whole new surprise in itself because Simon is never caught off guard) - Soap slides into the opposite booth and extends his hand to Simon in one smooth move, face the very image of 'I see what you're doing here but I'm not entertaining it so play nice.'

Simon continues to stare for a beat longer, two, before accepting Soap's hand in a singular, gruff, suitably manly shake. When they separate, Soap is grinning like an idiot as he informs Simon about his preferred nickname.

"Not calling you that."

Soap shrugs, completely unaffected. "Well, 'bout to get real confusin' in here, then," he smiles at John.

"No worries, he calls me captain."

"Only when you've earned it." Despite the words, the insult is clear enough that even Soap smirks conspiratorially, eager to be let in on the joke.

John allows some more banter. It's useful in that it draws both the other men out of their respective shells. Simon becomes ever so slightly more professional, while Soap becomes quite a bit less. It's good, though, to see him relaxed in this space. This is the side that John had wanted to see, considering this is the side the customers would be dealing with. It's a good fit, and he's already feeling confident in his choice when they move onto drink choices. He knows he's got his man when Simon nods exactly once at an answer regarding crawfish of all things.

There's more handshakes, promises to be in touch. John locks up behind Soap and turns to find Simon staring after the man. "Well?"

Simon shrugs. "'e'll do."

John nods, eyes his right hand man critically. He knows Simon well enough to spot the difference between natural and affected stoicism. "We planning on selling crawfish this year?"

Simon shrugs again. An obvious tell; the man doesn't make inefficient movements more than twice an hour. "Wanted to stump him." John waits for him to elaborate, a venture he would lose any other day but… "'e's solid."

Well. He'd hoped the Scott would rile Simon's temper, but this might be better.

"Settled, then. I'll have him start next week."

Whether or not this pleases Simon, he doesn't say, simply turns and walks back out through the kitchen. Sighing, John checks the time and is glad to find he's running right on schedule, but upset there are no text notifications. It's probably unreasonable considering she only just gave him her number this morning, but good mates check in on each other and the lack of questions about his interviews leaves him a bit bereft. Still, he follows her lead and pockets his phone without sending any prompts of his own. It's difficult to keep his human suit on whenever she's involved, but he doesn't want to scare her away so he'll behave, even if it makes him want to eat a whole beehive, stingers and all.

***

The trip out to Whitefish is easy enough. John drives the company van to look more professional, but the smell bothers him and he's slightly agitated the whole meeting. The woman doesn't seem to mind. He's fairly certain she's flirting. It would probably be in his best interest to return fire a bit, but the thought makes his stomach roll and his teeth clench. In the end it doesn't really matter. They set up a small supply and she asks if he'd be interested in them featuring one of the blends in a house special. Bourbon ginger with orange. Very basic but the blend she chooses for it isn't right and it's a struggle not to bite her head off over it. He gives his input and she accepts which appeases him, but as he's leaving she winks and asks if he'd like to stay and give the drink a taste test. The rumbling noise he makes at that is a growl, technically, but he plays it off like a groan. Which isn't much better, probably, but at least it's human.

"No thanks. Gotta make it back for the dinner rush."

"Your place, then?" She's smirking, proud of herself. She smells like cleaning supplies.

It's out before he can think about it, "Sure, if you'd like to meet the missus."

The vendor splutters, surreptitiously inspects his hand. "I - I'm so sorry, I didn't realize -."

"Unofficial," Price quickly recovers. "Still committed." Christ, they haven't even been on a date yet, he needs to get his bloody act together.

"Well. She's a very lucky woman," the vendor simpers and John tries not to snort as he collects his things. Yeah, lucky rabbit, caught in his jowls while he assesses exactly how hard he can squeeze without losing her.

Attempting a warm smile, John thanks her for her time and hurries out the door. In the van, he checks his phone and scowls when his rabbit still hasn't initiated a conversation. He can't help it this time, shoots her something about the meeting with the vendor going well but he'd still rather have traded places. He doesn't take it personally when she doesn't respond right away, and then very much does take it personally when she still hasn't responded by the time he returns to the bar. He's surprised to find it open, Simon scowling at him from behind the counter. "You're late," the man accuses and John just smirks at him.

"And you still opened on time?" Simon doesn't react. Unfortunately, the alone time seems to have done him good. Still, John tries a little harder because he's antsy and wants a rise out of someone. "Angling for a good review?"

Not even so much as a 'well someone has to care about this place.' Damn.

"You staying on in the kitchen or heading out?"

"Seen enough of this place," Simon grumbles and slips out the back.

John spends a long boring shift talking with a pair of locals about fishing. He doesn't really go fishing in this form, but he knows his fair share about where to find what fish. It's the quiet sort of night he would have savored even just a few weeks ago, but every hour that goes by without a response from his rabbit has him growing more and more restless. He's not worried about her deciding to hike even with that bear around, of course, but there are plenty of other fates that could have befallen her. Poor rabbit, alone in the woods. Even her den was a dangerous thing, prone to crashes and gas poisoning depending on how she kept it heated. Or worse, if she kept it heated. He swears to all that's holy if he ends up losing her to hypothermia even though he's big and furry and feverish and right bloody here, he's going to lose it.

It's late when she finally deigns to respond. Like, 2300 late. He can't decide if he's more relieved or annoyed so he chooses to be excited instead.

Bunny

Price: For the record, I did win over the vendor.

Price: Still wish I could've been doing boring shite like reading all day.

Bunny: I never doubted you

Bunny: Howd the interview go?

Price: Good. Got some new waitstaff. Happy with the bartender.

Price: How'd not-hiking go?

Bunny: Boring as predicted. Put a good dent in this blanket though!

She sends a photo of a beautiful crocheted blanket, the rows zigzagging in a strange psychedelic pattern which is toned down by the easy earthy tones she's chosen.

Good mate, staying warm. Now all she needs is someone to snuggle up with.

Price: You made that?

Price: That's brilliant.

Bunny: Thank you! 😁

Bunny: I'm about to go cuddle up under it though so goodnight! Glad everything went well today

Bunny: I'll see you tomorrow

Price: Sleep well honey.

Next>>

[sattystars]

just saw someone saying that we don't emphasize enough how q!bagi is the only human mother empanada has and it's actually so true.

and i think it's a really fun fact that she goes for her to talk about her feelings and troubles, she normally wouldn't bother her other moms with her worries, not because she doesn't trust them, it's more that q!bagi has a tie to feelings that her other mothers don't have. she's the only human with a natural short life that is as scared as her.

although q!niki is a therapist, a really good one btw, and both q!tina and q!mouse are demons with strong feelings. so she knows they would understand her and do anything in their power to make her feel better. she just doesn't want to trouble them about such mundane emotions that only a little girl, and maybe humans, would feel for such things.