#anyway maybe other skeletons could understand if they like

[findmeabowloftrash-blog]

the Undertale take I've seen absolutely no one have is that yeah, Gaster is a skeleton whose font is Wingdings, but Sans and Papyrus (and any other skeletons) are the only ones who can't understand him.

Because. Wingdings isn't a language. It's a cipher. When you type in Wingdings you're still writing words as they're spelled in your language. Just with a different alphabet. If you had the cipher memorized, and you read a sentence written in Wingdings aloud, it wouldn't affect your pronunciation. So Gaster probably sounds like anyone else when speaking aloud.

But if you're a font skeleton who magically sees people's speech as text in whatever font, and then there's a font that's not using the normal alphabet then like heck you're gonna understand what's being said

[nicksbestie]

hi as of like yesterday yr requests are still open so i hope this isn’t a bother ! but anyway i was hoping to see some caregiver!reader + agere!johnnie ? preferably gnc reader but fem would also be okay ( whatever prior relationship you want :] ) don’t have many ideas for plot aside from maybe johnnie has had a bad day/is really stressed out so he kinda starts isolating himself, which reader respects but is also really worried about him :( so after a while reader uses maybe like a spare key to go into johnnie’s room and at first it just seems like he’s just upset but as reader starts trying to get johnnie to open up and trying to comfort him, he regresses which makes him more upset/panicky. whether reader has prior knowledge of regression is up to you but in general they’re just really sweet and supportive trying to calm johnnie down <3 maybe they eat dinner/reader feeds johnnie, and watch a movie/cartoon while cuddling ? ( little spoon johnnie ofc ) anyways feel free to add or take away anything i just want johnnie to be taken care of and as an agere i am totally projecting lol

Secrets - Johnnie Guilbert

Summary : Johnnie's biggest secret is exposed without him being ready, but it goes better than he thinks it will.

Pairing : Johnnie Guilbert/Reader (romantic)

Warnings : descriptions of mental health issues, depression, and isolation

Word Count : 1541

A/N : This is an age regression fic, which is purely safe for work and innocent. Any hate/disrespect towards me, my work, or readers, will not be tolerated.

Everyone has secrets. Some of them are terrible ones, skeletons in your closet, ones that would ruin many people’s lives should they escape out into the public. Others are small and simple, things they just like to keep to themselves, and wouldn’t hurt anyone if other people knew, they just don’t want them to be everyone’s business. Some people keep secrets to protect themselves because they would be embarrassed about it if anyone found out. Everyone keeps secrets, and sometimes they’re revealed at the wrong time. Johnnie had secrets, and he was in no way prepared for his biggest one to be exposed to anyone, especially not you, but sometimes life goes in ways that we just can’t predict. 

Johnnie had been struggling a lot lately. That wasn’t a secret, and although you knew about it, you didn’t pressure him very much. He wasn’t the type to open up when he was overly pushed about whatever was wrong, and you wanted him to feel safe and comfortable coming to you when he was ready, and not before that. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t concerned, because you most definitely were. This bad spell for him was bordering on being one of his worst ones ever, and you were about to step in, because you couldn’t stand to see him hurting on his own any longer, even if that was what he told you he wanted. 

Johnnie had begun to isolate himself for almost every hour of the day, only exiting his room to eat and use the bathroom. He didn’t talk much to you out loud, texting instead, as it took much less energy out of him to take that route. He didn’t like to talk about it, despite knowing that he most definitely needed to. You hated how he could be so self destructive, but you knew that you did the exact same thing when you felt the way that he did. So, you respected his space and always let him have it when he asked for it. However, it normally didn’t last this long, thus feeling the massive worry that encased your mind. 

After a couple more hours, you continued to let your worry grow, but you decided to do something about it. You hated the fact that you were about to ignore the boundaries that Johnnie had put into place, but you were seriously concerned, and you hoped that he would be able to understand and forgive you should he be upset with your decision. You grabbed the spare key that unlocked all the doors in the house, kept in the kitchen just in case of emergencies, and gently knocked on his bedroom door. You weren’t going to just barge in, you wanted to give him the chance to open it himself. When he didn’t reply, you softly called out to him, telling him that you were going to open the door. He didn’t argue, so you did just that. 

Walking into his room, you noticed that the blinds were closed, the lights were off, and he was quietly laying in his bed, staring at the wall. You immediately laid down next to him, letting him curl up next to you. You noticed the stained tear tracks on his cheeks, your heart breaking for him as he simply laid there. You let the both of you cuddle in silence, not wanting this to be a heartbreaking moment for the both of you, so you didn’t break the silence for a while. You knew that you should probably talk about what was going on, but the moment was so peaceful that you didn’t want to say anything. You both laid there quietly for about half an hour, taking in the comfort of the other’s presence, before you said anything. 

“We should talk about this, baby. It’s getting worse this time.” 

You could feel him shake his head against your chest. 

“No. I don’t want to talk.” 

“Honey, it’s important-” 

“No!”

Woah. He very rarely snapped at you. He had almost never snapped at you, especially not when he was feeling like this. But, in all fairness, you had pushed him a little bit. You could feel the tears from his eyes soaking your shirt, and you decided to not speak any more for a little bit. You gently pulled his face up, wiping his tears away with the soft pads of your thumbs, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, brushing his hair out a bit with your fingers. You noticed that his eyes were widened more, much more glassy, and you definitely were concerned about it, but you brushed it off to the tears causing it. 

You were more surprised when he pulled away from you, as he had never done that. You gently reached out to try and cuddle him again, but you noticed that he wouldn’t even look at you. He seemed to be panicking about something, and you couldn’t figure out what it was. You weren’t upset with him, but from the anxiety radiating off of his body, you could tell that he probably felt like you were. So, you immediately spoke up to try and help him recognize the fact that he was always safe and loved with you. 

“Love, what’s wrong? It’s all going to be okay.” 

You were now completely confused, as the second that you spoke, your boyfriend burst into tears. He seemed to be absolutely inconsolable, crying nearly at the top of his lungs and clutching the squishmallow on his bed tightly between his arms. You didn’t know what else to do besides just hug him, whispering comforting words as you told him that everything was going to work out, and that you were here for him. It wasn’t until he looked up at you with the same glassy-eyed look as earlier and spoke a few words when you realized what was going on. 

When a choked out “I sorry” left his lips, you put together the look in his eyes, and unexpected crying, and the clutched stuffie, and immediately realized what was happening. Your boyfriend had slipped right into his littlespace, a littlespace that you were completely unaware of, and was absolutely distraught. You had been a caregiver in a previous relationship, and you quickly controlled your shocked face, bringing him as close to you as possible and gently stroking through his hair. 

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. You’re safe, angel, nothing to be sorry for. I’ve got you, you’re going to be alright.” 

It took a lot of repetitive words and soft praises for Johnnie to relax, his crying eventually slowing when he realized that you weren’t upset with him, and that you were still there and still loving him despite his newfound headspace. He wrapped himself back around you, seeming to become a very quiet little. You were more than excited to get to know him in his headspace, so excited to get to love and spoil a little one, as it had been a long time. Less than an hour later, the two of you were still curled up next to each other, you simply hugging your little boy and whispering sweet nothings to him as he relaxed. You both enjoyed the quality time, and as it turns out, Johnnie is a very silent little, despite when he’s not upset. It wasn’t for another half an hour or so that you moved, and you probably wouldn’t have moved at all had it not been for Johnnie’s stomach growling. 

You held his hand as you walked to the kitchen, calling him the most adorable as he rubbed his eyes with a fist. You put some chicken nuggets in the oven for him, before you went to the bathroom and you helped him remove the makeup that he’d put on that morning. He hadn’t gone anywhere, but he put it on to cover the dark circles under his eyes. You were gentle but bubbly, and you noticed that your little loved to laugh, and giggled at every funny face you made at him. Dinner went quite smoothly, him eating all of it, which absolutely warmed your heart, as he hadn’t been eating much lately due to his depressive slump. 

Little Johnnie seemed to love food, and you were grateful for that, because you didn’t want dinner time to cause him to be upset again. After he had finished eating, you got him a popsicle from the freezer, wrapped it in a paper towel so his hands didn’t get cold, and tucked him in on the couch while you cleaned up the plate and put it into the dishwasher. He was wrapped up in a blanket, cuddled with his stuffie, and you sat down next to him as soon as you were done. You gently tapped through channels and shows as you waited for your little one to pick a cartoon he’d like to watch, finally settling on “Spongebob”, and he immediately wrapped himself back up in your arms. 

He’d been in a dark episode for a while, but now, it seemed like he was able to see the light at the end of it, and you couldn’t wait to be here to help him through it all.

~ taglist : @jake-and-johnnies-slut @elliem505 @gvf23 @ilydeaky @maryx2xx @oobleoob @aemrsy @jasperthefriendlyghostt @707xn

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[mytragedyperson]

possibly unpopular Pjo Opinions

Also, if you disagree, that's fine. people are allowed to have differing opinions. But, if you decide to be dick about it in the comments, the comment will be deleted. we can disagree but there's no need to be rude about it. However, if you'd like to respectfully and civilly discuss the differences in opinion, I'd be happy to. I always enjoy hearing different opinions. However I will warn you, while I'm not strictly anti-percabeth, there are some anti-percabeth or negative towards percabeth opinions in this post. If you're one of the toxic percabeth stans who hates on anyone who dislikes or says anything negative about the ship, you have been warned, any toxic comments will be deleted. I won't be arguing with you because it would be pointless. You're not going to change my mind and I'm not going to change yours. civil and respectful discussions only

Is it bad that I don't like Bianca Di Angelo. Like, don't get me wrong, I don't hate her, I don't think she's terrible, she's 12, she's a child, but try as I might I just can't understand her choice. I get that she's 12 and left to take care of her brother but they have no one else at that point and the first chance she gets she agrees to leave him. She agrees before they even get to camp, before she's even made sure it's safe and I've said it before I don't think there's a world where Nico stays at Camp Halfblood. I don't think Bianca necessarily dies in every universe. There must be at least some where she actually listens when told not to touch anything or even where she, an untrained, inexperienced 12 year old isn't picked for this quest where they know one of them will die because it's been prophecised, but I do think Nico, at least in every universe where Bianca agrees to join the Hunters, always leaves camp after discovering he's a son of Hades, and then he's really not safe. they're each other's only family and she chooses to leave him. In 2 years he'll be the same age as her, and a year after that he's older. He'll live his entire life while she pops in and out when they can, maybe sees him if he's at camp halfblood at the time. and, to be fair to Bianca, I don't think the Hunters should offer this to 12 year old anyway. but, no, Bianca will either be dead, or 12 forever as he younger brother grows older, as he nearly dies trying to save his friends and help his family. Although I would love to see her and the Hunter's reaction when Nico shows up in the fifth book, same age as Bianca, with 3 gods and, if I'm remembering correctly, an army of skeletons, as she realises her younger is growing up. Honestly I could see them finding a way to send messages and Nico, despite knowing there's no place for him there, going to Camp Halfblood when he knows the hunters will be there so he can see his sister. see, i like the idea of alive Bianca that lives in my head, because i love the angsty idea of her seeing her brother get older and get married and make new friends and meet the half sister and her still being physically 12 but so much older mentally and wondering what could have been if she hadn't agreed to be a Hunter. But canon Bianca? i get that she's young but, maybe it's because I'm the youngest of a family with quite a few cousins that are very close but I can't imagine a world where my older brother or one of my older cousins agrees to just leave me somewhere without first making sure it's safe, even if they were 12. and the fact that they're each other's only family on Earth at that point? and then in book 4, instead of appearing directly ti Nico and telling him not to come to her, she uses Percy as a middle man? Nico is not Percy's responsibility. No, you agreed to join the Hunters, you agreed to go on this quest when you were untrained and inexperienced (because somehow there was no one more qualified or better suited after the other Hunter couldn't go).

Honestly, maybe my problem is more with the Hunters than Bianca herself now that I'm thinking about it. The way they act like they're better than everyone's else but get upset when they retaliate. The way they hate all men. There's just something about their attitude in the third books I hate. Maybe it's because it's from Percy's POV but, I don't know, they just rub me the wrong way. Maybe it's because they're supposed to be feminists but they're written by a man who thinks the extent of feminism is "we as women hate all men and think we're better than them" which, while is admittedly how some women are, is not supposed to be the point of feminism. I was taught feminism was equality between men and women, not one being better than the other, not hating on one while hating one the other, both men and women being equal. Is this where I realise that my problems actually boil down to problems with Rick Riordan writing women and girls? Zoe's dislike does make some sense and I do like her character but it feels like the other Hunters are, like, radical feminists who believe men and women should be separate?

Also while I'm here, might as well add, as someone who read the first five books but does plan to read the others, Percabeth means literally nothing to me. I don't hate them but I don't ship them either. They're fine as friends but as a couple? I'm sure there are much more interesting ships for both of them. The first five books is more or less them not being together but getting jealous of anyone of the opposite who talks to them, (though Percy's is also annoyance because, you know, Luke tried to kill him and Annabeth still has hope she can get through to him even though he's betrayed them. Percy's fatal flaw is loyalty, he doesn't take betrayal well, we saw how he reacted to Nico's perceived betrayal), and (Usually Annabeth but Percy sometimes) picking arguments. Ah, yes, the old married couple. Now, the moments where they actually bond outside of quests and camp halfblood? Not many of them. They have a couple of cute moments but, as a couple, I don't really care for it. I don't mind them as friends but, as more than that, not really. Annabeth chose Percy over Luke? oh great, and so the rest of camp Halfblood, the others who stay there all year? They mean nothing? If it was't for Percy, she would've just left them? Interesting. Percy gave up immortality for Annabeth? Not really, sure, she may have been part of it, but the main part was making sure children of all Greek gods had somewhere safe to go and would be claimed. also, why would a depressed, possibly suicidal teen want to be immortal? want to be with the gods who have just used him and his friends and half of whom hate him? Also, next to Annabeth Percy is always made out to be the dumb one but he's not really. Sure Annabeth is better at planning but Percy is better at improvising when things go wrong. See: him tricking Crusty. Also in that first book Annabeth also makes some not so smart choices. See: going to the Arch to sightsee in the middle of the quest. Percy is also the one who figures out The Lotus Hotel situation, not Annabeth. They have different types of intelligence but Percy is not dumb.

[quietblueriver]

They’re in my head again (always) so here’s some more Southern Gothic fluff. Once again very minor spoilers for last night’s ep but mostly just them being perfectly, disgustingly in love.

-

The bones on Laudna’s garland knock together overhead as Imogen ducks under her arm, laughing and stepping close again, squeezing Laudna’s fingers (gently, always gently) before standing on her toes to reciprocate the spin.

Laudna has to bend a little awkwardly to compensate for the height difference, a familiar crack of joints just audible over the music as she turns. She’s laughing when she comes back, smile haunting and bright, and Imogen pulls her close enough to press a kiss to her cheek before twirling her out again.

It’s not long before the deck fills, the rattle of bones a charming if entirely off-beat accompaniment to the music, and a few minutes later, Imogen feels the tap of a skeletal finger on her shoulder. She turns, keeping one hand on Laudna’s waist, to find one of the crewmen shifting from one bony foot to the other.

“Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am.” And Imogen knows that bones can’t blush, but she can almost see it anyway, nerves working themselves out through shifting hip bones and twitching phalanges, a clenching mandible. “Would you mind if I cut in?”

Flaming blue eyes dart to Laudna and Imogen smiles, feeling fond and strangely kin to the skeleton, grateful to be surrounded by souls who see Laudna a little more like she does, who can appreciate the particular beauty of a wilting flower that refuses to give up its spot in the sun.

She raises a brow at her girlfriend, who nods, rubbing a thumb over Imogen’s wrist at her waist.

“Not at all.” She presses another kiss to Laudna’s cheek, a little too close to her mouth to be friendly, and Laudna shakes her head fondly even as she blushes.

No need to worry, darling. I only have eyes for you.

Imogen winks, only the smallest bit embarrassed to have been called out. Can’t blame a girl for tryin’ to make things clear. She tucks a strand of Laudna’s hair behind her ear before stepping back and gesturing to the skeleton waiting patiently beside them.

“Y’all have fun.”

The skeleton dips his skull and moves closer to Laudna. Rather beautifully tattooed waves circle down his radii and ulna, which move hesitantly toward her hand and waist, and Imogen thinks that maybe Kyle isn’t the only sensitive soul on the Crimson Abyss. She hears an enthusiastic, “Hello, there! I’m Laudna,” and smiles as she steps out of the crowd for some quiet.

-

Laudna finds her leaned against the railing, staring into the fog. She braces her forearms next to Imogen’s, pressing their hips together as she says, “Platinum for your thoughts?”

At Imogen’s raised brow she grins and waves a hand, “They’re clearly worth more than a copper, darling, although we might have to come up with some sort of payment plan if you intend to collect. We could resurrect some of the old shows with Pâté and Sashimi, maybe? Or, I have a few craft project ideas…”

Imogen gives a cursory glance to the crowd near them and then puts a hand on Laudna’s jaw and turns her, leaning up for a kiss.

“You can have ‘em for free, darlin’.” Laudna leans down and kisses her again, lips cool and, thrillingly, a little bit familiar now. “You can have whatever you want from me.”

She means it as a tease, even if she’s absolutely serious, but Laudna’s face changes, brow furrowing as she traces her nails up Imogen’s cheek, brings her fingers down to rest against her nape.

“Yes,” she says, quieter. “About that.”

And Imogen knows, braces, waits. Laudna’s eyes, dark and appraising, meet hers. “Your soul is too precious to risk.” It’s definitive, the usual joyful rhythm of her words traded for a series of hard stops.

“So is yours.”

Laudna blinks. And Imogen understands that even now, even after…after, Laudna can’t quite believe what she means to them, what she means to Imogen, but if this is what helps her to understand, then Imogen is more than willing to give it.

“I…”

She waits patiently, but when Laudna seems unable to find her words, looking down at the railing of the ship and biting her lip, Imogen says, “I know she’s in there with you, and you know I support you doin’…whatever it is you want to do about that. It’s your mind and your body and your soul, Laud. I would never, ever try to take any choice away from you.”

She risks tilting Laudna’s chin up with her pointer finger, a gentle pressure that leads Laudna’s eyes back to hers.

“But I need you to understand how important you are to me. To us. I had to live without you once, and…” She clears her throat as a cry comes from the crowd behind them, the music changing and Chetney yelling something she can’t quite make out. Laudna presses closer to her.

“Imogen.”

She shakes her head and takes a deep breath. “I don’t intend on doin’ that again, unless you ask me to.” Laudna shakes her head vehemently, nearly dislodging her rock chisel, and Imogen smiles at her. “But even more than that, it’s…you bring so much good to the world, Laudna. You. As you.” She gestures at the garland and tilts her head back to the crowd. “You bring so much joy.”

“That’s kind of you, darling,” she murmurs, ducking her head again, “but joy isn’t power. I don’t have much of that, without her, but you…you do, Imogen. You’re important. Too important to risk.”

She doesn’t sigh, not out loud, but inside she wants to scream. She wants to give Laudna her soul, to dive into her and destroy the bitch who has spent so long torturing the best person Imogen has ever known.

“There is nothing too important to me to risk for you.” A disgruntled noise, but Imogen pushes on, determined. “Think of what you’d give me for me, Laud.” There’s a tiny drop of ichor at the corner of her eye when she looks up, and Imogen catches it with her thumb as it falls. “You have to know I’d give the same for you. You don’t have to understand why, but…you believe me, right?”

Laudna bites her lip again, and ichor wells there too, the skin split with the force of her incisor. It’ll heal, Imogen knows, but she has to stop herself from tutting, settles for freeing the lip with the same thumb already stained black. Laudna watches as Imogen sucks reflexively on her thumb before bringing it back to Laudna’s cheek.

“Laudna?”

Finally, she nods. “I believe you. Of course, I believe you.”

Imogen nods back at her, says softly, “Good. Then you know, when I said you could suck out some of my soul, I wasn’t offerin’ anythin’ that ain’t already yours.”

Laudna sucks in a breath and Imogen kisses her and kisses her until another cry rises from the crowd and they break apart, breathing slightly heavier.

It’s a lot, all of it. Too much, always too much, to have to carry, even if it is easier between them. But as the music strikes up again, another new tune, Imogen wants to take advantage of the chance to do something a little bit normal and dance with her girlfriend. And if it’s in the most abnormal of circumstances—on a ghost pirate ship with music blasting from their sentient robit friend while bone garland swings from above—then that’s okay. That’s perfectly them.

“And anyway, didn’t you say it was kinda hot? The thought of suckin’ out my soul?”

Laudna barks out a laugh and purples, hand moving to her own cheek.

“Imogen.”

She gives her best roguish grin and winks, grabbing Laudna’s hand.

“Dance with me?”

“Always.”

Their friends are in a circle when they return, Chetney throwing his body against the ground in a strange approximation of a worm as the others clap, and Laudna leans into Imogen as they settle between Orym and Ashton to watch, cheering him on.

[tired-fandom-ndn]

your post on the extended abernant family and will readings is making me want more on the abernant family as a whole not just adaine, aelwyn, and the parent’s whose names i cant spell if i tried

just adaine and aelwyn having an extended stay in fallinel because word spreads amongst the family that the two nieces/how ever many great grandkids have returned home after so many years

and they just have a small (actually quite large) and impromptu family reunion

where the sisters tell their tales of solace and in return they get a general info dump of their family members they havent seen since they were quite small

and oisin is getting a shovel talk in the corner by their dragon born cousins and after that they start binding over dragon things like their hoards and etc. while the elves catch up

[context]

YES YES YOU GET ME ANON THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I WAS THINKING ABOUT

They get a letter from a great great aunt just complaining about how they were in Fallinel and didn't even visit their family except for their useless father??? The fact that they were in PRISON is not relevant, their aunt would've posted bail for them if she'd known! Anyway the whole family is getting together for a reunion and they HAVE to come, obviously, grandma's been asking about them for AGES and don't they want to see everyone and meet their new baby cousins??

Adaine and Aelwyn aren't given the chance to argue, they're just told a time and place (their grandma's castle, the same one she'll eventually leave to Adaine) and invited to bring any friends/partners/children (their family does not understand how old they are). Adaine drags Oisin with and maybe the Bad Kids if she can convince them; maybe even Ivy if she and Aelwyn are a thing. They have to have a powerpoint presentation for everyone going with, covering all the most important people and explaining to Oisin why exactly there's a giant fucking dragon skeleton so that he's not caught off guard or made to feel threatened.

There are. So many fucking elves. And half-elves and silver dragonborns and a scattering of other races from marriages. But just A LOT of elves with very long names who are all speaking different dialects of Elvish and still seem to understand each other somehow?? Adaine and Aelwyn are both MOBBED by family members they haven't seen since they left Fallinel (or even earlier, I could see their parents isolating them from the family) and even by family members they've never met; there's an uncle who left to become a forest hermit and that reunion is the first time anyone's seen or heard from him in 300 years.

They get people picking at their hair and complaining about how much fashion has changed (that cousin still wears their hair in styles that were popular 1,000 years ago), older family bragging about being related to the Elven Oracle, teen cousins wondering why they weren't sent to Kei Lumennura too, their grandma praising them for being so lovely and intelligent and good and how on earth did her useless grandchild (I can't decide if I like Angwyn or Arianwen being the Abernant more) produce such wonderful children, and lots of baby cousins getting shoved into their arms. One of their uncles asks why Adaine didn't just talk directly to their cousin in the Court of Stars about being paid and she's like what fucking cousin?????? They get passed around the reunion for hours and spend what feels like every possible moment of the days (and weeks?) following telling every single family member stories about their adventures and life in Solace; their little cousins play games about their adventures, pretending to defeat the Nightmare King and slay Kalvaxus.

Meanwhile YES, Oisin has absolutely been cornered by a dozen or so silver dragonborns (maybe with a scattering of other colors) to interrogate and threaten him, which would be a lot more effective if they weren't speaking a mix of a Fallinel dialect of draconic that Oisin can only understand every other word of and a variety of dialects of Elvish (which Oisin can barely speak) while Oisin's Solesian dialect of Common is difficult and confusing for the other dragonborns. They eventually figure out a system of communication though and Oisin happily hangs out with them (and away from Adaine's more intimidating family members) until he sees Adaine holding one of her baby cousins, a tiny silver hatchling snoozing in her arms, and he needs to be next to her IMMEDIATELY.

[farfromstrange]

Helloooo, ❤️❤️❤️

I had an idea for a little fluff piece.

Reader has a secret (she sleeps with a teddy bear from her childhood that brings her comfort) and she wants to tell Matt but she isn't sure how is he going to react.

Maybe then Reader forgets her teddy bear at Matt's apartment and he cuddles with it while she isn't there.

Also, I love your fics 😍😍😍 they always make smile on good and bad days alike. 💕💕💕💕

Sidenote: How is this man so cute and hot at the same time???? 😍😍😍💕💕💕💕

HIII 🥰 (opening my inbox to this gif was truly a gift. I feel like he’s staring into my soul). You’re literally so sweet and I was so happy to read this request because let’s be honest, don’t we all have a stuffed animal that we always keep with us? (Mine’s this pillow shaped as a seal and I called him ‘Robbie’). I loved this request so much and I just hope I could do it justice. I put my own spin on it. I hope you like it, darling! (side note: That last gif took me out completely, it's not fair how adorable he is while also looking like a snack I could easily bite into).

Emotional Support Teddy Bear | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (gender neutral)

Summary: You have a fluffy, brown secret that you forget at Matt's apartment one night. When you come to retrieve it, you find him cuddled up with your teddy bear.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/n: If you guys have a stuffed animal, please tell me what you named them because I've been naming mine ever since I found out how names work (and I do the same to my plants). If you reblog, put it in the tags or something. Anyway, I hope I managed to somehow get this request right and that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

When you tell people you have a secret, they often suspect something darker to be brewing beneath the surface. A forbidden relationship, a secret job, or maybe even some literal skeletons in your closet. Like, the dead bodies kind. 

It’s no secret that people like to speculate. But your secret is far from being dark and gloomy. The only reason it is even a secret is the embarrassment that often follows the truth. It’s not you who’s embarrassed, but other people like to judge and laugh, and sometimes it’s easier to keep your mouth shut than open a can of worms over something that’s not even worth being talked about because, to you, it’s normal. 

Your secret’s name is quite literally Mr. Bear. You gave him that name when you were in elementary school when he just happened to lie under the tree one Christmas morning. That teddy bear is one of the few things that still connect happy memories to your childhood. You have a special connection, and ever since you found your name on the package all those years ago, you haven’t been able to ban him from your bed. Everywhere you go, you make sure that brown, fluffy teddy bear is somewhere in your bag, so when you go to bed, you can take it out and have a good night’s rest. 

You’ve been in a relationship with Matt for a while now. Most of your boyfriends from before laughed when they found out about the teddy bear and often told you to leave him in your bag because they found it weird, and a lot of your friends have told you the same thing - although you can’t possibly understand what would be so weird about a lifeless stuffed animal that you like to take to bed with you and use as a second pillow to sleep. 

Your fear of his reaction has prompted you not to tell your boyfriend about your childhood friend. At first, you thought his blindness would be perfect to hide that you’re holding a teddy bear whenever you stay over at his place, but then you found out that the innocent blind man has heightened senses and is pretty much perceptive when it comes to foreign sensations in and around his apartment. Still, up until now, you’ve managed to hide your fluffy secret every night you have spent over at his place. You’re playing with fire, or at least it feels that way. 

Matt is a very cuddly person and it is often you that ends up as his personal teddy bear. You don’t mind. It is nice to have someone to hold onto during the night, but there is just something about your beloved Mr. Bear that makes you crave him next to you. The teddy is always in your bag, but it’s only on nights Matt is out the entire night that he wanders into your bed. When he is on patrol around Hell’s Kitchen and you get anxious and lonely, and you worry about the man you love coming home bloody and bruised, you take out your teddy bear and cuddle with him until you can find a few hours of rest. He hasn’t noticed or told you so far because, by the time he comes home in the early hours of the morning, right before sunrise, you have woken up from the sound of the floorboards creaking and the bear lands back in your bag. 

You sleep well with Matt beside you, but the nights you can be alone and have your little secret in bed beside you still hold a different weight and mean a lot to you. They don’t mean more; you love your boyfriend and everything he does, but there is a deeper meaning behind your attachment to that fluffy teddy bear that you hold to a different standard, and you can’t deny that there are nights when you wish you could just tell Matt what you’re carrying and what you want to have next to you (alongside him, of course.) But no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bring yourself up to tell him.

He would be more upset if you told him you killed someone, that much you know, but your definitions of what’s hard to tell the other are worlds apart. On Valentine’s Day, Matt acted as if forgetting to buy you flowers had been the end of the world, and you didn’t even notice it was Valentine’s Day until your co-worker reminded you. You know he would never judge the use of a teddy bear for emotional support, God knows he has his own ways to deal with his issues that are far more complicated than a stuffed animal, but you’re still scared and you’re still holding back. 

After another night spent at your boyfriend’s place, you make your way home for a change of clothes and to get ready for an important work meeting the next day, which means you will be spending your night at your apartment, alone. You cook yourself a nice dinner, take a shower, read through your notes, and then head to bed, your skin feeling refreshed from the lengthy skincare routine you chose to bless yourself with. You check your phone as you slide under the covers. ‘City’s not busy tonight. Going home early. - Matt’ Reading his words makes you feel a little relieved and you settle into the pillows. It only takes you a minute or two until you realize something is missing, and it is not in your bag or behind your pillows like it usually is.

Your eyes snap open. “Oh, crap!”

At the other end of the city, Matt is making his way through his apartment. It feels empty and much colder without you there. Tonight, he didn’t come home with a lot of cuts, more scrapes, and bruises that he could take care of by himself. It seems as if the criminals of Hell’s Kitchen are using the summer heat to do something else entirely with their free nights. He hasn’t come home so early in a while and he kind of wishes you were there with him so he could have someone to cuddle, and your heartbeat always manages to drown out the noise of the city that lurks behind the closed window. 

Grabbing a glass of water from the kitchen, Matt finds himself stumbling over something. He has his apartment memorized, and whatever his toes bumped into wasn’t there before. He puts the glass down and gradually touches his way forward, reaching down to touch the fluffy object that almost caused him to fall flat on his ass. Part of him suspects your hairbrush or a piece of your clothing because it smells like you and you tend to get messy, especially when you leave your bags standing in various corners of the apartment; something always manages to fall out, and then you knock on his door the next day, smiling sheepishly and admitting that you oh so miraculously lost something at his place only to end up staying a few days. Maybe it’s one of those things. Something you can live without for a day or two but gives you a reason to visit him unprompted, but you both know that you never need a reason to appear at his apartment. If anything, Matt needs to finally ask you to move in. It would make things so much easier. 

When his hands envelop the small object though, he realizes that it’s not a hairbrush or anything else he’s heard you use before. It is a fluffy teddy bear with embedded eyes, and he can tell from touching it that it is a few years old, maybe decades, but it smells like you, your apartment, and your childhood bedroom that he got to visit once after meeting your parents. There is nostalgia glued to the teddy bear. You smell different during days than you smell during nights, and the stuffed animal carries the scent of your body lotion and toothpaste, blurring nights and mornings together. His shirts often smell like that after you’ve borrowed them for a couple of days and return them unwashed, knowing he thrives off of the pure essence of your skin. He does not doubt that you sleep with that teddy bear, and as he takes another whiff, he recognizes the laundry detergent that usually washes his sheets. You have slept with the same teddy bear in his bed, probably on nights he was absent before, and it warms his heart as well as breaks it at the same time. 

If you sleep with it and it smells so much like you, you probably miss it, and this could not have been a purposeful mishap. 

At first, he considers calling a cab and taking it to you, but then he stops and contemplates. You have never told him before and maybe there is a reason for it, so taking it to you personally could mean crossing boundaries you might not want him to cross. And he misses you dearly; the teddy bear smells so much like you, he soon finds himself burying his nose in the fluffy fabric and breathing you in. It’s soft and he’s sure it is more than comfortable to sleep with, just like you are. You are going to come knocking tomorrow and search for your teddy bear. Maybe you will tell him, maybe you won’t, but there is not much he can do in the middle of the night. You’re probably already asleep. 

He’s trying to somehow glorify his own decision, but then again, you would call him or come over if it were that serious. Matt takes your teddy bear to bed that night. He lays down and cuddles the stuffed animal to his chest, inhaling your scent. He’s not sure why you haven’t told him about it before, but it turns out to be a great cuddling partner in his time of need. 

He falls asleep faster than usual, his arms wrapped tightly around the teddy bear as his face disappears in the fake fur. He dreams of you and your warm body close to his, a sunny morning with breakfast in bed and a shared shower. He dreams of cuddling you all day and perhaps spending a day in the park afterward, but never once letting go of your soft hand in his. 

You have a key to his apartment. You considered taking the subway at three in the morning to get to his side of town, but you value your life and the lecture Matt would have given you should rather stay a fragment of your imagination. So after your eight o’clock meeting, you head to his apartment which is surprisingly close to your place of employment. He is supposed to be at work on a Wednesday morning at nine. You feel safe when you gently unlock the door and step inside, expecting to find the place empty as your boyfriend is probably in his office right now, having coffee with Foggy and complaining about the lack of a caseload. 

You were wrong. 

The floorboards creak under your shoes. You can already tell there is a silhouette behind the closed bedroom door. Carefully, you slide it open, not finding your teddy bear where you remember having placed your bag the other day. The milky glass slides to the side and you are met with a sight that both surprises you and instantly melts your heart in the process. 

Matt is lying in his bed, at half past nine in the morning, and he is fast asleep with the teddy bear you’ve been searching for cradled comfortably in his arms. His mouth is slightly agape, there is drool hanging at the corner of his mouth, and the worried crease between his eyebrows is almost completely gone. He has his nose buried in the stuffed animal, and he looks as content as ever. 

Tangled in the sheets, Matt feels safe and secure. The teddy bear still feels like you. He’s unaware of his surroundings, unaware of the time and the fact that you are now sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him with awe in your beautiful eyes. 

You reach out to stroke his hair. He stirs. “Matty,” you murmur. 

He slowly blinks to life. 

“Matthew, my love. Good morning…”

Matt smiles at the sound of your voice, but then the symphony of the city sounds crashes in and he realizes that he is no longer dreaming. He says your name, his voice barely above a whisper, and then finally opens his eyes. 

“What’re you doing here?” he asks. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

You chuckle softly. “I should ask you the same thing.”

“Day off.”

“Oh.”

“No cases.”

“Well, my meeting ran short, so I came here,” you say. Your eyes switch to the teddy bear in his arms and your cheeks flush a bright red. “‘Cause I forgot something.”

Knowingly, he smiles back at you. ”You did?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because this is probably the first time a woman has ever left her teddy bear at your place. It’s embarrassing.” You grab Mr. Bear from his clutches and get up, hugging the teddy bear to your chest. “So I’m sorry. For that.”

He lifts his head and slowly sits up, his shirtless frame moving up against the headboard. You stare at him, your gaze unwavering. Matt holds out his hand, urging you to come closer, but you refuse. 

“It’s not embarrassing,” he says. 

“It kind of is though.”

“No, sweetheart, it’s not. It’s a teddy bear.”

“Exactly.”

He sighs. “You’re right, this is the first time someone has left a teddy bear at my place.”

Your lips twirl up into an embarrassed yet triumphant smile. 

“But,” he says, his unfocused eyes searching for yours as he runs his fingers through his brown locks, “I have also never been more in love with you.”

“Wait what?” you frown. 

“Adults can have teddy bears too, and the fact that you have something to offer you comfort at night is adorable.”

You take slow steps toward him and he doesn’t hesitate to pull you down next to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. 

“It smells like you,” he admits, “which is why I slept with it, and I get it. It’s soft. I have you as my personal teddy bear, but who’s to say you can’t have an actual teddy bear at home? It holds childhood memories, doesn’t it?”

You nod shyly. 

“And people have laughed at you for it?”

“Ever since I was a child,” you tell him. 

“Well, fuck ‘em. It’s cute. I just want to know, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was embarrassed.” You play with your teddy bear’s ears. “And because I didn’t want you to feel like you weren’t enough for me by saying ‘Oh, by the way, I need my teddy bear to sleep’. It just felt weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Matt assures you. His smile is bright as he leans down to kiss you. “So don’t be embarrassed.”

“You mean it?” You look up at him with hopeful eyes. 

He nods and takes the teddy bear from you. “In fact, I think we should share it,” he says. 

“Share it?” Your embarrassment and nerves fly out the window and you find yourself giggling at his suggestion. “Are you serious?” you ask. 

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve never had a teddy bear… and as I said, it smells like you.”

And you know how much he loves your scent. 

You curl into him, his nose instantly moving to rub against your scalp, smelling your shampoo and conditioner from the night before. He sighs happily, still holding the teddy bear, and it seems as if he’s not ready to give it back. 

“I’ll buy you a teddy bear, Matty.”

“What?”

“You said you never had one, so I’ll get you one.”

“Well, why can’t I have yours?”

You tear the teddy bear out of his hands. “Because it’s mine, and I am very territorial about my emotional support teddy bear.”

He pouts. “I thought I was your emotional support teddy bear.”

“Yeah,” you say, using the few minutes you have left to cuddle closer to him, “and I am very territorial about that one too.”

Matt chuckles and kisses the top of your head. “I can live with that,” he says. 

When you come home that night, you’re carrying a bouquet in one hand and a gift bag in the other. He frowns, but as soon as he feels the fluffy object inside, his grin widens. It has horns and a tail, a little too on the nose, but he smiles nonetheless. 

“It’s a dinosaur,” you tell him. “Because you once told me you loved dinosaurs as a kid. And if you want, I’ll sleep with it a few nights so it’ll smell like me.”

He wraps his arms around you in an instant. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you.”

Needless to say, from that moment on, you will both be going to sleep with your emotional support teddy bears (or dinosaurs) every night. 

[slocumjoe]

What about NSFW facts? About every companion?

He's being very popular lately so I'm eager to know something about Gage.

Actually, I posted a while ago that I wanted to do more risqué stuff. I got, like, 6 different people screaming DO IT DO IT DO IT, and now I have you, and a handful of other people going 👀 where is it👀 wheres the nsfw👀 you said you would 👀

Lol. Enjoy your Gage content.

Warning; you can probably pinpoint which companion i...think about more...

Cait; Mostly a top, will power bottom however. Her partner is in danger while going down on her. Those legs are weapons. You're very brave. Will find lingerie for her partner regardless of gender. Tits are tits and she found a cute bra for yours. Give her a strap on and she'll put a baby in you through sheer will. Has a kink for, oddly enough, knight/princess shit. She likes the idea of a chivalrous knight (her) saving a beautiful, dainty princess (Sole, regardless of gender) from a dragon (deathclaw) and taking them to a marriage bed (fucking on a bench out of nerves and triumph).

Curie; Curves for days. Girl is stacked. You need a snorkel to faceplant in her tits. Finds medical roleplay deplorable, but...she likes a uniform...and there is something sexy about handcuffs...Most likely to wear lingerie behind [REDACTED]. She's great with her hands but doesn't understand that a prostate is a delicate organ and needs to be used sparingly. Forget stars, you're gonna see alien civilizations. If she learns what a titjob is, RIP. Down for anal.

Danse; Submissive, service top, pillow princess bottom. Moans like a pornstar. Extremely sensitive chest. If you boss him around as soon as you'll praise him, he's not going to last long. Really into being tied up. Most likely to cry during sex. He's touchstarved, he's lonely, and he's eager to please. Blushes at the slightest mention of sex or kink. Still nods and goes along with whatever you want. Overstimulation and edging kink. Not into roleplay, but especially can't get into roleplay that involves inappropriate workplace relationships or otherwise dubious consent. If a cop/doctor/knight ever did that, they should have been fired. That's completely unacceptable, there's no way that could be– [muffled sounds of Sole kissing him to shut him up]

Deacon; Most likely to wear lingerie. Does it as a joke until he realizes Sole is actually into it, unironically. Does some crazy things with his tongue, could tie together a whole ass fishing net. Really sensitive thighs. Fav position is anything partially standing. Not quite wall-sex, like...kind of half-over a desk, or leaning against a counter. Not into spontaneous sex, likes to plan ahead. I've said before, big on roleplay, and he needs to have a script ready. Open to all kinks except 69ing, not even for the bit. Gets nervous about the idea of both of them being in anyway gagged, or otherwise silenced. Also...he's a biter....so maybe not the safest...

Gage; Moan in his ear and you can forget walking for a week. Very...auditorially motivated. Is that a word? It is now. Has a thing for chubbier people. Raiders are lanky, walking skeletons or roided up meatloafs. There's no softness to them. So some flab, anywhere on the body? You can bet he's gonna sneak some feels whenever he can. Gage is a thigh guy. Usually pretty dominant, prefers having control, but like...if you push, he's folding. What, he's gonna argue, say no, you can't ride me into the sunset? Will never admit, but if, for whatever reason, his partner laughs during sex, he's fucking smitten. It just...does something to him.

Hancock; Give him oral and he'll melt. Eats ass/pussy like a man starved. The skin feels really weird. Knifeplay kink, blood kink, really into 'dangerous' roleplaying. Public sex is also a yes. Swears up and down he used to have an ass. He did not. Swears up and down the ghoulification made his dick bigger. It did not, was already that size. Has a thing for deep voices. Carries so many condoms on his person because he doesn't want to irradiate any partners. Has a soft spot for sitting positions. Has a hard spot for BDSM. Said it before, but way too into dirty talk. It...gets weird...

MacCready; Ultimate jack-off material is a fantasy of riding the Silver Shroud, back to chest, while the Mistress of Mystery rides him. But he did have a pretty intense crush on KL-E-O for a while...mostly because it had been a while, and she's outwardly flirty...had nothing to do with the build of Assaultatrons. Totally. Nope. Not even a little. Gravitates towards shorter women and taller men. Also has a thing for dark hair and eyes, less attracted to other blondes and other blue-eyed people. Noisy as shit, will bite his lip bloody to keep from cussing. Doggy style is his favorite position but good luck getting him to admit that.

Nick; Again, needs gloves. Dickless, his only option is hands. Lacks a tongue. At least, a...pleasurable one. Begins viewing nice gloves as a kind of lingerie, since they're more visually appealing to his rubber glove and oven mitt. Sex with Nick is a challenge. Also auditorially motivated. He doesn't have anything else. Used to like oral and—bizarrely—pet play. Used to have a sensitive belly and neck. Now, Nick has some wires that give him an interesting jolt when tugged on. Recommended only for the robotically inclined...then again, you wouldn't be here if you weren't, huh?

Piper; Is a loud and proud tit woman and isn't afraid to say it. Will snap necks getting too into face-sitting. Really enjoys having the reigns, actually. Her hips move on their own accord, you may as well sit back and let her body do as it pleases. Ultimate sexy fantasy is...something she's really embarrassed about. The idea of hooking up with a best friend who's already taken, but by a shitty partner, really appeals to her. Will never admit this, God forbid act on it. Semi-public, we-could-get-caught sex is also thrilling. Also a biter and scratcher.

Preston; Weak for shoulders and collarbone. Also, prominent veins. Had a hoe phase when he first joined the Minutemen. Everyone who would know is dead now. Isnt sure he prefers it that way. Likes his partners face-down. A lot more bossy than you'd expect. Pretty vanilla, but shower sex is such a turn on, you'd think it was some deep, dark fetish. Can keep you up for hours without losing stamina. He takes his time with his partners, really explores them and what they like. People who go to bed with always want a second encounter, then a third, a fourth, so on. Shame most of them are dead. Could probably take over Goodneighbor with one 'night on the town.'

X6-88; Throwing my Ace headcanon aside for now. A sexually interested X6-88 is a wildcard. Considers the act a test of physical capabilities. He's a courser. He loves his physical capabilities being tested. Every single time is...more than the last. He wants to get a better grade, something that is normal to want and possible to achieve. First time is standard, the 50th, God knows where you'll be. You might be fulfilling the fetish fantasy of a pre-war basement dweller whose computer X6 read through one time. The activity he most enjoyed took 6 hours of edging and every comic book Sole had collected up to that point. Fun fact; Sole can't read with something inside them. X6 finds this strange—he's had knives and bullets inside him, and he could read just fine. Maybe it's a courser thing.

He's curious, not kinky. That might be worse than kinky.

[warmerstranger]

THE LIFE-SEEKER OF DEATH'S WARMTH

|| feat. yandere zombie x gn grim reaper reader

°°``Marked as and not excluding: Yandere (manipulative, obsessive tendencies, self-harm towards the end), light sexual innuendo/jokes, human meat cannibalism but also not..? reader is referred as you

a/n: trying another new post format, i sure hope it doesn't throw anyone off!

Recommended to read for those 16+, please proceed with caution.

It seems like your routine of sleeping on the metal operating table would have to change eventually, or you shouldn't even need to strip off from your outer skin anymore that often. How could it not? When the man currently occupying on that table is more of a good-looking catch with the low temperature of that freshly captured fish. You begin to understand, maybe this is the proof from that commonly said 'there are plenty more fish in the sea' idiom. Because, after grueling hours of a search mission for ways on cooling you down from where your hot place nearest to hell you're staying in, you finally find the solution.

The seemingly pristine dead guy who feels very much still alive and doesn't rot—must be the answer, he could be your sleeping partner—no, even better, your cool hug pillow! When you lean closer to inspect him with scrutiny, there's a vivid fragrant scent of perfume wafting off from him; citrus and a flower you can't recognize? Though, the latter is sharp and reminds you of the usual nobility would wear. He's cold to the touch, leaning to a muscular build yet not that rigid... That's what you can conclude after having poked, fondled, then hugged his muscles and torso.

Wait.

You can feel yourself getting grabbed too and pulled closer into a tight embrace where your shoulder is now chomped. He just took a big chunk of your shoulder.

So you lend him your helping hand, and your whole arm, and maybe half of your body since you're feeling generous. You need to change your flesh suit to another pair of body again in the end...—

—————

“Well, do pardon my brass and crust, but I meant no harm to you personally, that—I can assure you—is my deepest sincerity. Though the fact is undeniable that you tasted remarkable and I didn't feel disgusted biting into your skin, and so, thank you for the meal; the first delicious one in a long time.”

That's what he responded—this zombie who introduced himself as Chadley, adorned by a dazzling smile—how can his teeth stay sparkling white after all of that gruesome eating anyway? You merely shrug most of his words as you would only ask him to return his thanks in another manner for your personal interest.

“Oh, and could I be granted of the permission to guess what does that entail? Hm, perhaps,...” He gestures, a wave and roll of his hands to what kind of situation is he in right now; with how he's sitting on your bed with the sheets covering half his legs, “do you prefer me getting all cozied up and pampered before you have a bite of me? Really, you don't need to go that far for this little ol' me, I would still remain the same taste after everything. Even when I have lived between the rich and lavish, I still taste like the same rotten garbage fresh out of sewers.”

You sigh, no, that's way off the mark and you're sure he doesn't refer to eating as in sex matters. “I want you to be my pillow, to hug with and to cool me down when I sleep. Though, you can just thank me for that.. meal in another way if you're not fine-”

“Nah, I'm up for it, give me that job offer.” Too eager of an reaction, he grins soon, patting the empty area beside him on your bed. “We could start from today, right now.”

Since you suspect him of having some other ulterior motives, you set the boundaries and rules to start off from the reason for that favor and fair deal; because you wouldn't want to often sleep naked in your skeleton simply. Thus he will be needed for the purpose of being your cool pillow only for cuddling or hugging and even limited to his arm is fine, touching more intimately further than that is off the table, he can make himself at home properly in your residence here whenever he's comfortable to except breaking any stuffs and the likes.

Lastly, he's not allowed to eat you in any way possible without permission.

—————

A package of deal too good to be true, a promise sworn is made.

He even thought all the bare minimum treatment he receives as a living thing come too easily and fast for his liking as he tries to seep into the flow of things that you bring about in his daily life. If not for his unending appetite, he would've forgotten about being a disgusting low-rank zombie.

When Chadley have long gone used to the betrayal from the apocalypse back then in his past, molding through sharp and cunning ways to survive, getting any kind of cold shoulder, scorn and detest of most from the population even including his own race group—any of it don't prepare him for what he have to accept so openly; letting the warmth and peaceful normalcy wash over his repulsive existence, everything leaves him greedy wanting more he could only get whiplash adapting into it.

That's why he's rarely ever in your home, always roaming out and about after he leave you with some food he prepares most of the time; luckily for you, not much human meat.

It's not like you're a bad entity.

Not the slightest.

“I was about to think you brought that hot stuff to do them... In here.” you speak up with a shrug from the stairs as you descend into the aquarium basement special for his 'food' intake, approaching him closer where he stands above a ripped up someone around the corner of the room before you continue talking.

“I don't mind it even if you were going to have another purpose with them, but not here, you can do that somewhere else. I'm gonna ask though, is there any problem with the food I keep? I don't know how much different it is for you to eat one and another but if you have some specific taste you like, tell me which one close to it. It's the only reason why I bothered to give them a label you know. Just tell me what's lacking from the deal of my side, I'll also tell you.. that your food, those that you cook are a bit too salty and sweet on some unfitting parts so there's that.”

Things have been going too well so much that it feels off-putting for him to even take a liking to you. But, at this point, he has begin to seek whatever kind chance blessed upon him.

After a period of silence, Chadley chuckles and finally looks up to you as he joins his hands in a pleading look with a grin, leaning down closer to you. “I'll strive to do better, but can I have a bite or taste just a bit out of you? Pretty please?”

“No.”

“Ah, a shame. Better luck next time then huh? Maybe if I can impress you with my cooking...”

“You're not obliged to do that, though, I'm just saying what I wanted to say, like you don't even need to cook for me, that's what I meant.” A pause slips in while your tone quieten down, smiling faintly to him. “..I have to admit it's nice having someone to cook for me.”

Perhaps it's due to how you're of higher rank than him for you to regard him never with any loathing. But beyond that... He feels accepted, as if it's okay for him to stay as his nature, being able to have the right in living by another living being.

“You think you're my mom or something? And what with the.. lovely apron earlier...” you comment as you finish off another meal prepared by him.

Chadley guffaws. “I know in terms of loveliness, you're unmatched, but I would prefer the term househusband. Isn't it popular nowadays? But, more importantly, is the dinner more to your liking now?”

You merely hum, acknowledging his efforts and giving him points. Before you realize it, you have stopped acting as if you're some kind of a mastherchef judge and always dig in to his cooking without any reservation as a routine is formed from getting used to enjoy it every day. Along that routine somewhere, a some sort of civilized appreciation ritual is mixed in; him cutting up and cooking for his main food added whenever possible complemented with the proper eating etiquette.

Unlike when he would straight up feed into them raw, days ago. The reason being; “The least I could do.” without further explanation.

Of course, it's the least he could do for you, he couldn't be concerned about any of those whom he eat. If he could the very least gain your favor and respect... In your eyes, has he proven to be a better man?

He's certain for one thing, at least.

No one...

The increasing pile of disappearances—your acquaintance and coworkers moreover—has never been bothered you much up until now.

is better suited

Why can't you track or feel your friends' soul?

than him

Since when did your neighbors got infected and became a man-eating undead being?

for you.

You're bound to find out about it despite getting caught up in your job and all kind of business to clean up the mess left, caused by certain someone, who doesn't look even bit guilty when you confront him. Chadley doesn't flinch or panic, grasping your palms just firmly. “You know I've always liked you, right? So I was only doing you a favor, many of them, but of course you don't need to return them.” The uttered words, though doesn't mean anything that deeply, his widening gaze and smile says otherwise of the feelings lurking within as his hands slowly creep up to grab your arms. “Just trust me, it's only normal to do from someone like me who cares about you and all, isn't it? So you don't need to take it too seriously, right?” Being drawn closer, his hands reach up to your shoulder and then, neck... Under your awareness of your pulse beating beneath his tight grip.

“I'm doing a good job to take care every part of you, so you should fit me to a tee.”

In spite of everything, still, it doesn't matter. After you handcuffed his wrists together while he's trapped in a specialized cage, you intend to leave and fix up your problems earlier, but his voice calling out your name halts you.

“Ahh, it's useless you know? This punishment of yours.. do you like me then? I might as well think of it as some kinky roleplay. I would still do those things all over again, though I regret for having to be separated from you like this.”

Shaking your head in disapproval, you turn around before you hear a clanging sound and... Something being sunken into, ripped apart, cracking—

When you face him again, he's has bitten and devoured half his arm through. His look are still directed to you, a challenging glint reflected on his smiling eyes.

As expected, it suits him the best to go far beyond his nature after all.

[theheirofthesharingan]

Hi, sorry to bother. There is something that has been bugging me about Itachi and maybe you are the right person to ask this to. I found on Tumblr that a lot of people in the fandom hate on Itachi based on something he said during the fight with Sasuke against Kabuto. Apparently, when he is about to release the Edo Tensei, he says that he was able to defend the village as Itachi Uchiha of the Leaf, and that he has "no regrets".

I was super confused by this because it is not at all what he says on the anime version for my language. Here he says he will dispel the Edo Tensei, Sasuke asks "then you will leave as well", and Itachi answers that, as he managed to defend Konoha again, there is nothing left to keep him in this world. To which Sasuke reacts angrily because he demanded answers for him and Itachi seems to want to leave without telling him anything, and he does not understand why he wants to protect Konoha after all they did to him. I watched the arc many times, and Itachi never says he has no regrets. Quite the opposite.

Do you think this is maybe a translation problem? Do you have any idea of what he says in the original version? Because "I have no regrets" really does not fit with what Itachi had said all the time in that fight. He kept mentioning his fails and his regrets. And it does not fit Sasuke's reaction at all. If Itachi had said he had not regrets, Sasuke should have been confused and enraged.

Anyway, sorry for the rant and have a nice day.

I'll say the people in your country's dubbing made a wiser choice, because 'I have no other regrets' is what he says in the anime and manga both. I don't have the original Japanese manga, because it's hard to find it, I think. Every time I read or watch that part, I roll my eyes, not at Itachi but at Kishimoto's writing. He just knew how to ruin a perfect character development for silly drama. Now, I'm not the kind of person to blame the authors for the characters saying things and I'm not overly critical of Kishimoto either, although I'd still make some changes in how he wrote Itachi. But Kishi just inserted that one sentence that sticks out like a sore thumb that has no connection with what he's said so far or behaved with Sasuke.

Like you said, his entire interaction with Sasuke as well as Kabuto leading upto this moment bleeds of his regrets and guilts. He didn't have just one regret, but a cluster of it, which he had to face eventually accepting in the ways he failed.

The first time he meant Sasuke this was his first reaction.

He wasn't denying Sasuke was wrong - a criminal, at that, but he knew it wasn't Sasuke's fault either. It was his own doing, the hatred Itachi wanted to exploit to make Sasuke stronger ended up backfiring badly. There was no positive outcome that came out of him handling Sasuke the way he did.

Here, too, Itachi knew he had no right to lecture Sasuke on the paths he had chosen or what he wanted to do. He couldn't just say "you're wrong" when he himself had pushed Sasuke on that path, and he acknowledged it. If it's not regret, I'm not sure what else does it look like.

Itachi spent his whole life lying and as good as his intentions were he messed up real bad, especially Sasuke. One more admission of his failure. No one without regrets will ever say something like this. It's also to note that he's dead, so he can't make up for the damage he's caused, so the least he can do is accept he failed. And he does.

This particular page is so much more important than anything to assess Itachi's character. After he's shown Sasuke the truth he admits he's been wrong and he's nothing but a man built on the skeletons of his kins and lies he himself protected. He admits Sasuke is a better person than him, purer than him, who could have succeeded where Itachi failed; and it was his fault that he never trusted anyone, not even Sasuke. He can't do anything else now, but he at least can be truthful and let Sasuke have his share of truth he rightfully deserved.

At long last this. He knew he can't be forgiven so he doesn't beg for Sasuke's forgiveness. He knows nothing - no words, no tears, no apologies can ever make up for what he did. And sasuke isn't obliged to forgive him. He's still okay if Sasuke continues to hate him. He didn't think he was worthy of Sasuke's devotion, love, and his forgiveness. If he'd lived, yes, it would be a different story, but his death prevented him from making up for the things he'd done.

With all this available info, I'm not going to let that one phrase decide that "Itachi had no regrets". These are the instances that are in sync with his actual character and personality, and what he know about him from the beginning (that is, Sasuke's flashbacks). He loves Sasuke and throughout their fight against Kabuto, he protects Sasuke on his instincts. Like I said, he didn't have just one regret, that of ruining Sasuke's life, but so many more. People really expect Itachi to fall to Sasuke's feet and beg for forgiveness with tears in his eyes. I'd love a scene like that too, but Itachi lived his life suppressing his feelings, never verbalized them. Here, talking to Sasuke is literally the only time he expresses himself honestly. It's the only time he openly admits he was wrong, he failed, and most importantly, he loves his brother so much. Being dead didn't mean he was in therapy for the time being so he could communicate with Sasuke more openly and in a "healthy" way. He does try to be the kind of brother he would have been had he not been in the circumstances he was put in, thanks to the village.

Although, I don't entirely hate that one line, but that has more to do with Sasuke's reaction to it. Many people comment that Sasuke was just blind towards Itachi's flaws because of his love, which is why he forgave him so easily, but when he calls him out for this, we know that's not true. He doesn't go "I understand you were trying to help me and save my life so it's okay you put me through hell." He never tries to justify Itachi and neither does Itachi defend himself using this "excuse". They both knew Itachi's actions had no justification, which is why Itachi was okay with still not being forgiven and Sasuke, despite forgiving him doesn't use this as an excuse to defend his brother.

As far as Itachi's haters are concerned, I've stopped taking them seriously. Once upon a time I used to think it was probably a matter of different opinions because he's a "minimalistic" character where most info on him comes from unreliable narrators and can be taken either way. However, when I got into reading manga, it turned out that haters usually have no basis other than being angry on the things he's already acknowledged himself. So, why are you so outraged? What do you want to prove with the longish gibberish you call meta? This website is infested with his rabid haters so you'll find them even if you block the anti tag. I just see hypocrisy, ignoring canon for their own convenience because it feeds their hateful bias. This one is one of those countless instances. They can just seethe.

[slamminslamminmcgill]

thinkin abt working w gene takovic & being generally shit at the job and he gets tired of reader slacking off and decides to give reader a little motivation to do better ……….

workplace harassment but if it was epic 😌

my immediate thought was "reader comes into work high and gets disciplined" so im adding intox to this hope that's ok :3

warning: intox, possibly dubcon? (you're high and he's your superior)

You hated your fucking job.

I mean, it wasn't horrible. It was just a run of the mill food service position at the Cinnabon in the mall. Standing for 8 hours, shitty customers, all the glitz and glamour you could expect, but hey, free cinnamon rolls was a nice perk. It's not like you were planning to make a career out of this anyway. You could afford to dick around on the clock from time to time. Plus, y'all were short-staffed anyway, so what were they gonna do, fire you?

Well, today, you had pushed your luck too far.

It was supposed to be a busy day, some huge sale happening in the mall, and that meant a bunch of entitled pricks needing their cream cheese frosted insulin bombs. You didn't want to risk strangling the first boomer that yelled at you, so you figured why not pop a few edibles before your shift?

Big mistake. You realized that when you clocked in.

One of your coworkers called out, and another was coming in late. That meant it was just you and your manager Gene tackling the first few hours. He wasn't horrible to work with, but a skeleton crew was no one's idea of a good time. Let alone the fact that you'd be stupid high in about an hour and there'd be no one else to cover your ass.

When they kicked in, it didn't take long for him to notice. You were staring at the register blankly for maybe 5 minutes, but it felt like eons in food service time. Once your other coworker came in, Gene took you into his office to reprimand you, making sure to lock the door before he slumped down at his desk.

"Look, kid. I get it. I don't wanna be here either, but you can't be doing that. Not only is it against the law, but it's dangerous. If you're spacing out like that you could cut or burn yourself, and-"

Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. You ever talk to your cat and wonder if they can understand a goddamn word you're saying? That was basically this. You were just staring at how his nipples poked through his officially licensed Cinnabon® polo shirt. He was kinda cute, for a sad old man. Wait, fired? Did he just say fired? You snap out of it and make eye contact with him.

Gene sighed. "You haven't been listening to me, have you?"

You shook your head.

"I said, corporate has kind of a zero-tolerance policy for drug use on the job. I'm supposed to fire you, but," He got up from his chair and approached you, stroking your cheek with a pensive look on his face, no doubt a dumb, ditsy look on yours. "you're a good kid. I'd like to see you do better. I'm hoping there's another way we can work this out. Call it positive reinforcement, yeah?"

You nodded. Positive reinforcement. Sure, whatever.

He smiled. "Good boy."

You whined. Oh fuck, that felt nice to hear. He could tell.

Before you knew it, you were on your knees in front of him, servicing his cock with your mouth, messily. Drool was seeping out from your lips, pooling onto what you hoped was the floor and not your shirt. The weed was making this far more intense than you'd ever imagined. His taste was addicting. However deep you could take him just wasn't enough. You ran your tongue all over him, his head, his shaft, his balls. God, it was so fucking good. Shit, you were probably enjoying this more than he was.

That's not to say Gene wasn't enjoying it. He threw his head back and sighed. He rested his hand on your scalp and ruffled your hair, making you whimper around him. "That's a good boy."

Positive reinforcement indeed.

[askfriskandcompany]

Am I the only one who thinks that maybe Chara was controlled by us? The player? Because during the story, Chara is all the sudden good? they are now a skelton and Asriel is back as well. What is the cause of that? Why is Chara all the sudden good? Is there a plot twist waiting to happen? I'm sorry I watched Miamouse's videos and this was in my head for a while. I might have to watch them again. Lol.

Chara wasn't suddenly turned good. They've changed wildly over the course of their life and un-life and re-life. But the change was never all at once. It was a series of large and small shifts. It was like...

Before falling underground: Humanity is cruel and horrible and I no longer see the point in living.

After falling underground: Monsters are good and wonderful and I would do anything to help them. Also, the only way monsters can live in peace is if all of humanity was killed off first. Asriel doesn't get it now, but he'll understand when he sees their cruelty firsthand.

After dying: Asriel betrayed me. Asgore is a murderer now, and Toriel has forgotten about both me and Asriel. I realize now that both humans and monsters are equally messed up. I'm so upset.

Frisk first appears: Oh! A person who am somehow connected to. They're naive and helpless. They'll clearly die without my help. I'll help them fight for their survival.

Genocide Run Happens: *EXP-induced manic murdermode happens*

After Genocide Run: Wh-What? h- ...What the hell's going on??? Frisk! How dare you! (Frisk suddenly can't hear them) Stop ignoring me!!

After Pacifist Run: I now realize that there is a small but not insignificant chance that I'm wrong. I also respect Frisk now because of all they accomplished. So I will not reset the timeline. In fact I will make sure nobody ever resets the timeline again.

Red Echoes: Ah! Frisk! We meet again! Time for you to stop running from the reality of what happened in the Genocide Run. I fully expect this to break you. Oh wow now Sans is here. Well I'll just possess him cause I can do that now. This is a great idea I won't quickly come to regret AAAAAA!!! Okay Frisk, that was weird, but I think it's only a matter of time before you realize I'm right and the world sucks. It didn't work with Asriel but I think it'll work with you because..... Hey why is Flowey talking like Asriel? I hate that! I'm leaving!

Goopster Arc: So we're connected to another world for the time being. I'm going to find my other self and compare notes. They brought Lucida back to life, so maybe I can come back to life too? That's what I'm secretly hoping anyway. I'm also still shook because of Flowey acting weird.

MWSIH!Chara: You're an idiot and I'm embarrassed on your behalf. Asriel's soul is inside yours and you don't even notice you dumbass cringefail.

Maverick Appears Arc: Now another Asriel is here. I had a conversation with him and now I'm realizing how deeply I miss Asriel. Oh well, my new Calalied persona is prepared and now I'll be able to secretly hang with Frisk and........??? profit.....?? Anyway I'm definately doing this for an evil plan and not because I secretly want to be a normal kid who goes to school and has friends. >.>

Drunk Chara Arc: Another me. Time to compare notes again. ...Wait now they're unknowingly confronting me about my insecurities. Time to fall back into my old pattern of being scary and threatening! How dare they act like they're better than me! ......Okay now I'm reliving my deep dark traumas. .......Okay now I'm pretty certain that I'm an actual piece of garbage. I wish I could just forget it all...

Monsterland Arc: Hi I'm Calalied, a skeleton with no trauma. :D ...................................... Wait ....... Oh ... Nevermind I remembered the trauma again. ........ASRIEL???

Now: Okay, looking back at all that, I've come to the conclusion that people are actually a mix of bad and good. I've been given a rare chance at a new life, and I don't want to waste it. So I'm going to try my best to be happy, and to not cause harm to the people around me. Sans will probably never forgive me, and I'm frankly scared of him, but I also don't really blame him. But at least Asriel's here. I'm very happy about that.

...And that's the progression of Chara. XD

-TQ

[selpide]

a long, confusing, existential introduction

i have noticed there's a proportion of us humans who seem to have a tendency to look for the essence of things

an obsession, some would say

(some would be right)

minimalism, others will state

(other will be wrong)

(there's nothing small about this search)

i am a number of this proportion, you see

everything i do, i try to undress it to the bones

find the skeleton

trace the carcass

what's the closest i can get to one truth before it burns my skin alive?

that's where i like it

that's where i live

a nomad in the borderland of skulls

there's some holy serenity in being able to go the distance

that distance

i went that distance yesterday

i have trouble putting into words what i do

and what i do is who i am

so i spend an unhealthy (what is healthy anyways?) amount of time in this so-called minimalist search for the most precise arrangement of letters to make other people understand what my ego claims as hers

i am a writer

that is without a doubt

the first thing i have ever been

the last thing i will ever be

let's set aside the clearness and focus on the blurry lines

i am a singer

(i make songs)

am i a singer?

i am a cinematographer

(i am an audiovisual communication graduate)

am i a cinematographer?

do i deserve to claim myself as part of these guilds, these collectives, these ideas, these concepts, these communities, these archetypes, these

words

do i deserve to be called by any of these perfect words?

when you are called by your name

even if you know you are not your name

(you are not some letters nor their sound

you are flesh and blood and bones and maybe, if we are all lucky, a soul

however

when this name is called upon)

you answer

as if you were synonyms

as if meaning and symbol became lost within each other until becoming one and the same

so when someone says

"writer"

and i turn my head

when i jump at the sound

when my brain has already done the job — and i cannot escape my fate — the fate my brain has woven for myself — when someone calls for a writer and i raise my hand

do meaning and symbol get mixed up just the same?

this is where it got heavy for me

do i deserve to claim the same name as every single person who came before me, and whom i admire, and whom i respect, and whom i couldn't dare to offend (them nor the rest of the world) by suggesting we may belong to a somewhat similar category?

but then again

names

words

why should anyone be worthy of a title? surnames are given. they come to us by birth. like it or not, they're part of our identity — they give information on who we are — be it by acceptance or denial — be it by proximity or self-made walls — opposite or mirror — we don't need to deserve our surnames. they are us and we are them.

am i a singer?

yes

am i a cinematographer?

yes

i first was a songwriter — a writer of songs. then i discovered i could sing them. badly. but they were sung. less badly. and they kept on being sung. less less badly. and then i discovered i could put my own music into them. i once met kim yerim on the streets of madrid. i handed her a piece of paper with the lyrics of my song written on them. and she spoke these words: "so you are a producer? you are a composer?". and it was a conversation, and she was looking at me in the eyes, and so i answered. i said: "yes". and it was as simple as that. because it is true. i produce songs. i compose songs.

i am a producer.

sunghyuk said i already am a producer.

and it is as simple as that.

so i write songs. and i sing them. and i produce them. and that's all too long to fit a social media bio, isn't it?

so what am i?

a music maker

i am a music maker

i first was a scriptwriter — a writer of scripts. then i discovered writing scripts was too boring for me. there is only so much you can control about a story with a script. movies have so much more to them. movies move. so i started editing videos. turns out i have an eye for that. rhythm. that's all it is, really. i have an inner metronome. i can sense patterns. i can repeat them. i am a little clock pedaling backwards and onwards and to whichever direction has the beat that pulses the brightest. but you can't edit a blank screen — you need images. and there is only so much you can control about a story when images aren't yours. so i got myself a camera. a little green sony point and shoot, y2k excellency, all digital grain and untreated saturation and pixelated zoom. then another camera. a little red sony handycam that, as i write this, is on the cabinet under the tv of this apartment in the middle of another continent that i moved to three months ago

(i got this camera when i was 14)

(i think it might be my favorite camera)

then another one

then another one

then you know how it goes

i became a videographer

but these cameras could take pictures too, right?

pictures are so beautiful

i became a photographer

this kind of motion got be so obsessed i could not picture myself doing anything in this life that didn't rely on its cadence

so i got into college and i majored in film

(it's not film)

(you can't major in film in spain)

(not in university)

(so i got into audiovisual communication)

(you can major in audiovisual communication in spain)

(in university)

(i specialized in film)

(i wrote a film script as my final degree thesis)

(i ended up working as a scriptwriter)

(i am, as of today, a scripwriter)

(i miss my red sony handicam)

(i miss the colors)

i miss the motion

i direct my own music videos

i keep a record of my own life

i can't escape live photographs nor still movement

there's so many information in there

how can you shorten that up for a social media bio?

a filmmaker?

but does that sum up everything?

i don't think so

so what am i?

an image maker

i am an image maker

let's get back to words

because i am a writer

that's the only one i savor between my teeth

every letter is mine to say, mine to keep, mine to pray, mine for me

a writer

but what does a writer do?

letters are the smallest piece of a writer's craft

but we are not letter makers

same happens with words

we work with them

we don't create them

(not all the time)

(not as a summary of our duty and routine)

(words are not the word)

it's sentences

i guess that's it

that's just how minimalist it can get

so what am i?

a sentence maker

i am a sentence maker

i am a music, image and sentence maker

but what is music?

what are images?

what are sentences?

art

i am an artist

yes,

but

but

(always a but)

aren't they all languages?

i am a translator

aren't they all symbols?

i am a speaker of metaphors

aren't they all unexplainable ?

i am a magician

aren't they all but a beautiful attempt to capture, to portray, to preserve, to understand, to celebrate, to blame, to share

life

itself?

i am a life curator

(it's funny

i have a song about this

i scrambled some of its lyrics around

i love clues and riddles and the silly breadcrumbs some humans leave for others to find in hopes of making their everyday a little more adventurous

i hope someone someday finds this funny

i hope someone someday

thinks of this

as an adventure)

this is me

sélpide

life curator, writer and magician

welcome to the museum

i hope you find yourself inside here

[itsbebebrainrotting]

Town of fobo was all but a ghost town. Which was funny, because there were a lot of more haunted places on Quesadilla island.

Sunny woke up to a dead silent house, the only occasional noise being the chirps of chocobos upstairs and maybe an especially loud horse (the wither skeletons were too far underground to be audible). It was the day before their birthday and she had been stuck in bed for days, no motivation to leave unless someone arrived to give her cookies and keep her going.

Leo had also been holed up in her own bed for days since her own pa had disappeared, lying next to Sunny (the younger girl had started putting her bed in Leo's room since Valentine's day and the older didn't complain). They rarely lay awake at the same time, but, when they did, they didn't say a word to one another. It wasn't a cold uncaring silence, not at all. It was more of an "I'm not comfortable talking about my emotions right now and neither are you but we have nothing else to talk about, so let's just enjoy each other's presence" kind of silence. A mutual understanding that they didn't want to talk about it. Any of it.

Next to Sunny, Leo shuffled a bit, rolling onto her side and almost smothering herself in her sheets.

Today, Sunny wanted to see their pa. Or at least, they wanted to see him sometime in the next 48 hours.

As such, they rolled out of bed, and headed to their own closet to pick out an outfit. They popped on their signature sunglasses and a baby blue dress with a poofy skirt that cut off at Sunny’s shins. Something nice in her dad's favourite colour.

They then got their weapons and armour on them, because she knew everyone would be mad at her if the left her house without it all (she still remembered getting chastised by Phil for being too weak for diamond armour the first time they met; it was scary) and headed to the storage terminal.

Sunny noted the location where her pa died on her map when Phil forced them and Chayanne to leave the body's side after it happened. It was circled in a hot pink felt tip. She then searched for the nearest waypoint. It would be a long boat journey away...

Oh well! Sunny had travelled to accountant Bad's on her own! She could do this! They were turning 3 months old, it was time they grew up.

So, they scoured the storage system for a boat and found a speedboat and a small little wooden rowboat, only big enough to fit one adult and one child.

Obviously, the speedboat felt like the smart choice. It was the fast boat for the long journey. Unfortunately, Sunny had never driven a speedboat before. Besides, she wasn't sure what all the little dials and meters inside meant but she was pretty sure it was low on fuel and Sunny didn't know how to give a boat fuel.

So, wooden boat it was! Sunny grabbed it and then hauled it over to Etoiles' waystone, before travelling to the nearest place to the body. They dragged the boat into the water and hopped in.

Oars were heavy. That's what Sunny worked out after 3 minutes of hard work. She wished she could've used the speedboat. Their arms were aching and they were tired and they kept accidentally splashing the water in their mouth and they wanted to go home. Go lie in bed with Leo again. Not wake up unless she had to. Maybe even miss her 3 month birthday. No one would care to throw a party for her anyway. Everyone who would was gone.

But they kept going. Kept rowing and rowing and rowing. Even if the water was scary and dangerous.

She had to see her pa today. She just had to.

[battlemaiden13]

Maiden What do you think of the ending of six skeletons and a maid?

Because it made me cry

I saw this three days ago and thought you meant the beach but went to check anyway and saw the last chapter. It took me all day to read and then I've just been processing it the last few days. I may have been grieving. It wasn't sad it was just an end and I don't think I was expecting it to hurt as much as it ended up doing.

@raccoonsinqueen did an amazing job with this story and inspired so many others to write. It's a bit sad that they are no longer in the fandom but it was so kind of them to finish the story. I mean they are the reason I started writing.

I like how they left it open. I hope one day someone can come along and extend the story. Maybe do those multiple endings that racconsinqueen mentioned in their notes. I personally just feel like there's a lot left open. Like how would Black and Red react to the Maid coming home? would Papyrus and Blue Cry? Is she still writing to Green? Is Indigo and Purple giving condolences to Black and helping him through this? how did they blind a monster? Will Maid go back to see their family? Does Grillby get with Muffet?!

I did enjoy Orange finding out where Maid was, he would be the best at keeping it a secret even if he could potentially use it against her although there could be a cute story of redemption where he comes to visit her often and the two grow close. I'm also a sucker for Orange though and this story defiantly kick started that like for the skeleton.

So I liked it but I was sad about the ending. Like I understand that SSOM had some issues and nothing about it was a healthy relationship but it was something that brought me into this fandom and I really liked all the skeleton's depictions, I wish I could write Sans and Papyrus as good as Queen.

Anyway @raccoonsinqueen thank you for everything you've done for this fandom. Congratulations on your uni and I wish you nothing but the best

[izzysillyhandsy]

The more I think about it, the more my Stizzy's Revenge theory makes sense. I'm so excited about it I have to add few addendums:

It mirrors Stede's dream so well

"Stede, Blackbeard, and Izzy are on an arc together. Whether they're in stories together or not, their ultimate arc is together. I think, by the end of this season, the last episode, that first scene [in S2 E1] will be gratifying. I won't say why, but their fates are tied together." (David Jenkins in this interview)

Wouldn't it be totally unexpected but at the same time really gratifying if, instead of being an obstacle to be killed, Izzy was the connecting element between Stede and Ed? If the three of them reached the conclusion together that Stede's and Ed's path are too divergent at the moment - and that each has to do their own self-discovery for a bit?

It also would be incredibly funny to see Stede sailing away with Izzy of all people and leaving Ed behind. I mean who would have thought this was even remotely possible at the start of S2?

(what this would do to the fandom though...)

It would take Ed's needs seriously - taking it slow

I think it would be such a relief for Ed if Stede understood that Ed was (at least for now) finished with piracy and needed time away from everything and everyone to reconnect with himself.

Not a breakup, they're still in love, still together and they'd definitely reconnect later - when they're both ready.

Izzy needs a break too

As of Ep 7, Izzy is doing his best to suppress his heartbreak and trauma - and you could almost believe he's moved on. His performance of best-breakup-ee ever must be exhausting though.

Remove Ed from the picture for a while, let Izzy gather his strength (and he's done so much already, he can do it!) and give him Stede who's maybe not in the same boat, but who's the one person in the world who can at least begin to understand.

And then, after a while, have that talk with Ed.

Stede and Izzy are actually really good together

With Stede, Izzy is patience itself, but he also knows when to tell him what's what. With Izzy, Stede doesn't have to hold back. He can be as childish and bad-tempered as he wants.

From a showrunner standpoint, those two play off each other really well. I could see one or two episodes in S3 with them doing pirate stuff without Ed (before the inevitable reunion).

Also, if Ed and Stede get together again at the end of S2, were do they go from here? Back to pirating? Unsatisfactory - we all know Ed doesn't want this anymore. Open an inn? And what's supposed to happen in S3?

Stede sailing off with Izzy would make for a fascinating storyline and a great starting point for S3.

The symbolism of the flag

I'm obsessed with this flag. I love the ambivalence - it could as easily be Blackbeard (with the spear) and Stede (with Ed's heart). But I prefer the Stede and Izzy version.

First Stede: he's the angry skeleton - baring his teeth and holding Blackbeard's spear (and don't forget the merman scene in Ep3 - Stede's holding a spear like trident there too). This symbolizes Stede finally becoming a real pirate - something, I think, that is very important to him. He would drop everything for Ed, sure, but in my opinion that wouldn't be good for him. Stede needs this.

Secondly, Izzy: I love that they made Izzy smaller (he's even got fewer ribs) and generally softer looking. He's holding either Ed's heart (he's been doing that for a lifetime anyway) or his own, as a sharp contrast to Blackbeard stabbing it.

Both their left (heart) hands form the name "Ed", protected by their arms, tails and whole bodies. They're like yin and yang, darkness and light, feminine and masculine.

They're not touching - without Ed, there would be no connection (and it's really difficult to imagine those two becoming friends otherwise).

Swimming together, complementing each other, protecting each other and their shared love. Isn't that beautiful?

Finally, the last episode is called "Mermen"

Need I say more?

[lazodiac]

Once more we return to Outlaws of Thunder Junction. We've got some more critters to identify so lets get to doin' that! Last time we dealt with Black, with the other parts being here and here. For now though, it is time to tackle...

RED

As with the Black cards, Hellspurs like this have mutated themselves beyond all belief so they're now functionally native to Thunder Junction. Love those magmatic skeleton horses though.

Speaking of magmatic skeleton horses; look at this baby! Calamity is an incredible creature and is a (supremely fucked up) legendary of the plane.

Get caught up in it! This is once more the Hellspurs running rampant with their chaos mutations. Look at'em go!

I saw a weird amount of hate for this card, but I have no understanding as to why. Anyway, this little doggy is endemic to Thunder Junction.

I have no real justification for this but the vibe this lady gives me is Tarkir. Maybe it is the weaving through the lightning bolts?

Rakdos having a hell of a time here on the party plane. This is from Ravnica, and a good reminder of why one of the laws on that plane is "The Rakdos Cult can do what they want to keep their boss from getting uppity".

One of the funnest cards in terms of like, flavorfully showcasing the way Thunder Junction works as a plane. I kinda wish we had more of these to be honest.

I'm marking this one down as Amonkhet because that's the first thing she brought up, and it makes the most sense to me that a native of the plane would be best suited to selling that stuff. I likely shouldn't go shopping in a bazaar.

While this isn't a direct story spotlight (the bomb Breeches made explicitly DID NOT touch the train, as was the intent) I think it is safe to say this is still another one of his more deadly explosive endeavors, so this is from Ixalan.

Who trusts a monkey with explosives anyway?

I forget where I heard this, but this is the thunder of the plane mutating the creatures to become even stronger- this used to be a gopher! Now it's a getter instead. Endemic to Thunder Junction.

A courser is the term used for stronger, swifter horses typically used as war-horses. Sturdy bastards. This is a lizard that is a 4/2 so it really shouldn't be a courser I think? Either way, native to Thunder Junction.

Train heists can happen on like two other planes from Thunder Junction, but this particular style of train heist belongs to it and it alone. Also I love the tomahawk thunder-pistol in this art, that's some good shit right there.

Another Hellspur, another card that sources itself from Thunder Junction itself. I fucking love this art though, look at it!

The greatest tragedy of Thunder Junction being the plane it is is that we didn't get to se Angrath and his daughters. While you could prooobably place this minotaur to Dominaria, it's a Hellspur so it's a Hellspur. You know the drill.

Do you think it hurts replacing your eyes with a heated vent-grill?

I don't think I saw this card in my initial run-through of the set. I love that he has a gold fang tooth replacement, that's fun. One of the least mutated Hellspurs so probably from New Capenna, but my rules are my rules. Thunder Junction!

Technically not highway robbery as there is no highways on this plane. Native to Thunder Junction.

TWAS I WHAT SET THE BLAZE! Endemic life of Thunder Junction, and quite a lovely little critter at that.

This one took a bit of thinkinng, but after looking at the giants of various planes, I think this is from Dominaria. He's just got the vibe.

This his friend above, this minotaur is a trickier one to place... but I think he's from Ravnica. Ex Boros turned gunslinger, you know how it is.

Magda! This lovely lady is from Kaldheim! Ironically her previous card was "Brazen Outlaw" but in neither instance is she ACTUALLY an outlaw mechanically. Her tokens are the non-endemic Scorpion Dragons of Gastal, but I won't be counting tokens till the end so leave me be.

This toasty little critter is endemic to the plane- and probably used to have a diet of thunder before any wizards came about with some much easier prey to snatch up.

I like to believe the little jet of flame is its tongue.

This pair of soon to be very dead friends are Hellspurs- and I just wanna say, they look like they're having the times of their lives. Here for a good one, not a long one and all that.

More Hellspurs doing Hellspur stuff. God these mutations are freaky- I'm shocked none of the people who are horny for being a Phyrexian jumped at these.

Our first actual carded appearance of the Cacti Folk of the plane! A white card had one being picked up by a faerie but this is their first actual like, real card! They're endemic to Thunder Junction, and by rights are the actual honest to god native population of the plane.

The corn-cob guns are an inspired choice, tbh.

I personally call bullshit that the Thunder was created by the Omenpaths. Even if it was, none of the people coming here would fucking know that.

Really love the "animation" in this card. I'm gonna say she's from Innistrad because this weapon looks like it'd fit there.

This massive porcupine is, as you'd expect, native to Thunder Junction. So many of those in Red...

This master of Santoryu is categorically just explicitly a monkey-goblin from Ixalan. What a perfect little creature, look at him go.

The second half of that kaiyote up above. Put'em together and you get a fun little image. This is of course native to Thunder Junction.

Have enough people chased roadrunners for this saying to catch on in the yearish they've had to live here? That's one hell of a meme infection...

This art was a little hard to parse, but it's something huckin' a molten knife through some kind of storm of Thunder. I like it, but it's impossible to tell where it is from.

It's not got as much bondage as you'd expect for them, but I think these two are from the Rakdos Cult and are doing their best to branch out. Ravnica, then!

The dinosaur tokens and the dinosaurs in his art are all Ixalani, so this wonderful old man is from there as well. Like I said we'll counter the tokens later.

And that's it for now, tune in soon for Part 2 of the Red cards of OTJ!