#because in reality he hasn't really done something That bad

[overqchiever]

izzy antis are always gonna nitpick everything izzy does because they need to be on a moral high ground so they can keep justifying their behavior towards izzy stans during the hiatus

[rubys-domain]

the mood of the day is watching videos on nostalgic girly media from my childhood to Feel Something

[suguru-getos]

just some over-affectionate yan!sato blabbering

yandere satoru hasn't really snapped at you, he just doesn't. always playful, always an embodiment. waking you up with peppers of kisses, making sure you have your favorite breakfast, making sure you relax around him. he even indulges in your silly little hobbies, all for the sake of making his baby comfortable. if you like painting, he is going to buy you all the colors there are, premium quality canvas boards and everything you'd ever need to bring your imaginations into reality. digital art? then you have an ipad with procreate and a pencil, anything and everything you need.

he doesn't say it but he is extremely observant, he even notices things like your skincare before you were kidnapped, and goes out of his way to upgrade it if needed. he can be a little pesky at times. what if his baby is using the wrong skin-care? probably going to fly you to the skin and beauty land 'korea' to have your skin checked, and then buy you the 'recommended' skincare.

same with aesthetics, you like wearing a certain type of fits, you have them littered in your closet room. he prefers changing styles and wouldn't mind upgrading/donating your wardrobe when you're also bored with the same ol' things.

your room is a mixture of everything you are, and trinkets of satoru in it. you are really not allowed to sleep in your room though. it's your space, just your happy corner. it doesn't have a bed. it has plush couches that are better than most beds, neon-light which speaks of your name and scented candles, perfect desks with the perfect desk mats. you just need to sleep with satoru.

he gets specifically testy when you really don't want to give him company at times. why? hasn't he done enough? most people would kill to be in your place. that's when you can see the cracks in his carefully calibrated persona he harbors for you.

he is usually very mellow, clingy and would be so playful you often forget how strong he is. "baby- but i want cuddles!" satoru whined, pulling you close to him while you squirmed when you weren't in the mood. satoru hasn't really pushed himself sexually, but he treats you like a pet in other stances. meaning - if not huggable why so cute? so you can't really escape from him during those times.

if you really, really try hard. his laughter, soft eyes, all of it drops. the usual high-pitched excitement too... "i will count to three. if you don't really come to me, there would be consequences." you haven't really checked on what the consequences are because that sets you straight instantly.

satoru HATES when you fear him, some part of him snaps so hard at that he ends up scaring you more. this happens when he's pissed about something and you flinch/wince at his tone. he hasn't done anything to make you scared... yet? though sometimes the way he comes home... reeking of dead curses, reeking of torment and torture. you automatically end up fearing him.

there was one time you took things too far, taking his leniency too far and going out without asking him. he hasn't locked the doors like a barbarian and you're making him question if he should... that's when he took you to one of his missions. shaking, quivering as you cling to him while the curse in front of you begged for death, for being exorcised while satoru made sure it healed and then continued his torture. blaming it on you as you sobbed, anxiety and palpitations all over you. "see, this is what i do... when you don't behave. you cause pain from me to others." he just wants you to know he is/can be fucked up.

would eventually feel extremely bad when you throw up from the gore and anxiety and finish the job, bringing you home and forcing you in his arms, crying with you at how bad it makes him feel to see you like this. how he would kill himself than making you cry, though a part of him is grateful that you wouldn't really go against him for a long, long while.

whenever any action done by him fucks you up, satoru takes responsibility of undoing it. even if sometimes he needs to make sure you stay with him, no matter the consequences... he would try his best to make up for it. always pestering, always kissing you, praising you for being so good to him even if you're not, behaving like an ideal boyfriend to the point where even you start suspecting if the problem is you.

he loves so sickeningly hard you end up deluded enough to consider yourself the 'toxic' one. :3

[strangersteddierthings]

"Look, Steve, I don't have any bad feelings towards you," Eddie says, has been saying, talking nonsense, like he and Steve weren't anything more than fuckbuddies, like he isn't breaking Steve's heart. "I used you too, y'know?"

It's then Steve rears back like he been slapped. Or punched. It feels more like a gutting. Joke's on him, he supposes. Once again, he wants more than the other person. He wanted a boyfriend, Eddie'd wanted sex. Why does he keep trying? When Steve finds his voice to speak, it comes out flat and dead and not really like a question at all. "Used me. Like you think I've used you?"

Eddie shrugs, looking for all the world like he's not bothered by that statement. "We had fun, right? So it's all fine in the end."

"Fine," Steve repeats, hollow. They're in his house but Steve feels the need to leave, to run before the reality of how unlovable he truly is sticks inside him forever.

"But I think we should stop while we're ahead," Eddie continues and Steve wonders if Eddie is listening to him at all, or just saying his piece before he goes. Can he not hear Steve's heart breaking? "I want to... I want to find someone to love."

If Eddie's previous words felt like being gutted, these ones feel like cement. Heavy and solidifying. Trapping in the truth of Ever Unlovable Steve. He doesn't even feel heartbroken anymore. Just numb. Dead inside. He should say something encouraging. Let Eddie know that all he's wanted was for Eddie to be happy and loved. But words seem impossible, so he gives one jerky nod of his head. An understanding.

"Right," Eddie says, returning the nod before turning away, towards the door, "I'll just go now. Umm, see ya later, Harrington."

Facing the horrors of the Upside Down should feel like the scariest thing he's ever done but it doesn't. Watching Eddie walk away does. Steve should be able to hold it together long enough for Eddie to leave. He's the tough one. He can hold himself together no problem-

"Why can't you love me?"

Eddie whips back around, an expression on his face like confusion and anger mixed.

It's only then that Steve realizes he spoke. He hasn't meant to. He was going to let Eddie walk away but now his voice has been freed from the cement. His heart has shut down his brain it seems because he just keeps talking, voice flat and hollow, "why can't you love me the way I love you? What is so broken and wrong within me that no one loves me back? My parents, Nancy, now you. Why can't- I thought that we were- where did I go wrong?"

"What?" Eddie asks, and the anger is gone from his face but now he just looks horrified. Which is understandable. It's horrifying to be loved by Steve Harrington. "What did you think we were?"

Boyfriends. Together. Going steady. At the very least, dating without labels. But none of those very reasonable, normal answers come out of Steve's treacherous mouth. Because Steve can't seem to be a reasonable, normal person. He's got to be too much, too soon, too clingy. So, instead, he says, "In love."

Eddie looks like he's just received the worst news of his life. In fact, he looks a little sick. "Oh fuck. Jesus Christ. I can't- I thought- Fuck!"

Steve just nods along. He hadn't actually said I love you to Nancy that night at Tina's Halloween party, but he imagines if he had, the beginning of the bullshit conversation would have sounded much the same as Eddie does now; like anger and regret, the starts and stops. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- if you want to go, you should go."

Eddie crosses the room back to Steve in half the steps he took when he first walked away, hands reaching to grab Steve's face between them. He speaks quickly and sounds panicked now. "No, no no no. I fucked up, misunderstood. I don't know how I got it so wrong. I don't want to go. I never did."

"What?"

"I am in love with you, sweetheart. I just- I didn't know you loved me back. I thought you didn't- that we weren't..."

"I thought we were boyfriends."

"Jesus, please let me fix this. Let me stay and make it up to you. I'll be the best fucking boyfriend you've ever had."

Steve thinks if he had any shred of self-worth he might step back, make Eddie explain himself, but as it is, he steps into Eddie's space and kisses him, hands pulling him as close as he can get. He doesn't want to think about the cruel things Eddie's said, about using each other. Maybe one day they'll have to hash that out, have that conversation, but Eddie says he loves him too, and that's all Steve's wanted.

[glassrowboat]

Ruffled Crow. Dottore.

Really just a few headcanons.

Dottore, once upon a time, used to be really bad about safety measures once upon a time, but now there's eyelash stations in every section of his lab along with showers and signs to remind people to wear their safety glasses on every door. Though, he did assign the task of handling that to his segments.

Each segments hair is synthetic, so instead of it being able to grow itself they would have to uproot their hair and fix a new one much like you would do a doll for their new wig (aka the good old push pin method) if they wish to change it.

Dottore has a chemical burn under his mask from an experiment gone awry that caused one of his eyes to go blind. Nowadays, it's been changed out for a robotic eye. It may or may not be like bluetooth connected to the monitor on his mask.

The bracelet Yelan lost that she cherished as family heirloom was actually made by him. When he was in that lab in Liyue (Childe’s story quest for a reminder) he had started tinkering with the idea of making the prototype for what is now his network with how Dottore communicates with his segments. This is why he ended up breaking out in a hysterical fit of laughter when Pantalone brought it to him one day out of the blue and asked him if he knew what it was. 

He knows how to swing dance. It's just you have to be careful with him because those stupid (cunty) boots of his are a hazard. One time they may have even gotten caught on your pants leg and tripped him. A fact he still denies. 

Dottore has a child segment he finds himself disassembling and reassembling every few years. To see the face his own parents turned away running around with a smile, giddy and without worry, is something that always has his stomach turning without fail. So wouldn't it make sense he simply ignores the thing before he turns it to a pile of parts again? So why is he currently building the little boy again with gritted teeth?

Major sweet tooth. To the point he had done some bullshit scientific method to make the perfect baklava. Still, Dottore finds himself preferring the one his mother made.

He does not have any game. Sorry guys, but this is the same man who prefers to hide away in his lab rather than interact with other people. You can't tell me he knows how to flirt, and it ends up affecting any romantic relationship he has because he knows about such practices in theory, but not in reality. It can make his time with you rather....well, let's just say he tries.

(Welder Dottore is so real in my heart, guys) The reason Dottore's bangs are uneven isn't because of a fashion choice, despite the fact he says it is. Rather, it's because one time when he got too wrapped up in his excitement, Dottore didn't properly secure his hair behind the welding mask, and it caught on fire. The only reason he hasn't let it grow back out is because he knows Pantalone would call him out that it was never a fashion choice in the first place. 

He has worked with Sandrone on multiple projects. Their research tends to lean towards the same subject, so it only makes sense that they have collaborated multiple times even if their interactions can be tense and full of snark. But a like, mind that can challenge your ideas is what Dottore needs so he can reach new heights, no? 

His sharp teeth aren't natural. They're the result of one of his first experiments. After all, he didn't have any willing subjects besides himself now, did he?

[demodraws0606]

I'm kinda peeved off that I'm seeing a few people that have the critique that Siffrin didn't deserve their "happy ending" in the end, that he was forgiven too quickly. I'm bad about this for actually a number of reasons.

(Warning this will be long because I am irrationally passionate about this, totally not because I relate to Siffrin or anything ahahahahaha)

First, logically, Siffrin's actions definitely are not as awful as people make it out to be especially not in the context of a time loop story. The worst Siffrin has done was his actions in the Bad Touch achievement and the last loop, one being purely optional. Outside of that, any tampering Siffrin had done was purely harmless, sure it's existentially horrifying but it's not like he did any actual manipulation.

You could also argue since Siffrin was in control of the loop, they are responsible for everything that was happening but we know full well he wasn't in control literally, his emotions were in control of the loop. Considering, a whole thing in this story is how acting as though you're fine and trying to control your emotions don't work, I don't think we can make the argument Siffrin was really in control.

He only wanted to trap everyone in the timeloop when it already had destroyed his mind. I thought it was obvious it was a monkey's paws situation.

The last time loop was the breaking point of Siffrin and it's one of the things he does suffer consequences from, they do get mad at him and he does apologize. What else do you want him to do ?

The Bad Touch achievement is the only thing that could be said to be "unforgivable" but it's optional and as far as I know it's hinted that Siffrin would talk about it with Isabeau. In fact it's said that even though right now they're fine and okay, they literally say they are okay to be mad at Siffrin later.

And also, it's not taking into acount the Actual feelings of his family either. They can't remember the loops and they have their own reason to not still be mad with him, so why should they hold Siffrin accountable for feelings they don't have.

In fact, the storyline strikes the perfect balance to not have Siffrin do such horrible action that he'd actually be unforgivable but still have him do enough that it shows what the loops are doing to him but....

..it's not just logically, judging Siffrin's actions as bad/good things like that is not just what's wrong with the narrative that Siffrin should've suffered more consequences. It also goes against the narrative itself.

For me at least, ISAT is a game about mental illness but also recovery. It's not coincidental a lot of people project their own mental issues onto Siffrin, it's not just a "ahahaha they're so relatable !!", it's a genuine part of the story.

I could make an entire essay about it but that's not the point, what would a story about these themes be if the ending was just "you need to repent for the things you did during your own mental breakdown"

It may seem ridiculous after all this that they'd just forgive Siffrin after all of this, but really hasn't most of the points against Siffrin's morality been coming from Siffrin themselves.

Siffrin believed he deserved to be rejected, that he deserved the suffer, that he was disgusting. It was these belief that kept him from talking about the loop because for him, everything was his fault. Not just because he created the loop but because the desire of staying with them was the very sin he hated himself for since the beginning.

So for all that self hatred to be met with, strange acceptance. It almost seems ridiculous, and Siffrin's talk with Odile in the epilogue reinforces how almost comedic it is.

It's close to reality, isn't it ? How many times have you thought you did something completely unforgivable to someone you cared about and you were waiting for them to be furious at you, but that moment never came.

Because they just simply weren't hurt enough by what happened. And sure it was definitely a bad thing you did and they were maybe mad in the moment, but you apologized. Sure there could be more consequences for what you did but what's the point in asking for them to be more mad at you ?

Shouldn't you strive to be better than beg to be hurt for your actions ?

Do you think being hurt, being yelled at would make anything better other than just feed the voice in your head what it wants to hear ?

Weird flowery talk aside, it just doesn't fit the themes and the narrative of the story is what I'm saying. Asking for more punishement for Siffrin goes against what the story is about.

It's just like complaining that the looping mechanics are too frustrating, that's part of the package deal bb !!

Fuck the idea of "repenting by suffering through the consequences" !!! Having to deal with "blinding unrelenting forgiveness and kindness" is in !!!!

[iawaaaaaa]

lyney x reader | "meow?"

Sypnosis: in a rather... unexpected turn of events, you find out that your boyfriend has now turned in to a cat.

genre :: Fluff (iara writing fluff? that's new)

iara's note :: is it really lyney as a cat or a cat as lyney?

It has been... around 24 hours since you've seen Lyney. It's unusual of him to not visit you every hour. Any other day, he'd randomly spawn and ask you for a small kiss and then leave.

But... he hasn't done that today.

"What if I said something bad to him?" "What if he is mad at me?"

Thoughts like those swirled in your mind. Until you were taken out of your daze with a certain voice.

"Meow."

"Huh?" You said out loud.

"That's... not Rosseland." You thought. "Strange... It looks so similar to Lyney too."

The cat resembeled him compeltely. Blonde fur and most importantly, those purple cat-like eyes which always mesmerized you.

Unfortuently, it seemed like the supposed 'cat' had some plans for you.

Suddenly, the 'cat' jumped on you with a loud "MEOWWWWWW".

"Huh-?! Wait-!" You yelped as you fell down with a loud thud.

While you expected it to start scratching you like... any other cat would do, it started... wait, why is it hugging you?!

"Purr..." The 'cat' purred, now feeling content with being in your embrace.

"Wait. This isn't normal for a cat to do...?" You mumbled out loud. It seemed like the 'cat' heard it too since it started pointing towards Lyney's hat.

Wait, Lyney's hat?! So that means...

"Lyney?!" You suddenly shouted as poor Lyney said a very loud "MEOW!" as it got away from you.

"Wait. How, when, why- since when are you a cat?!"

"Meow meow meow, meow. Meow meow."

"Wow, thanks a lot. I'll start calling you "lynmeow" from now on because of this."

"Meow..." 'Lynmeow' said dramatically.

"Sigh... let's take you to Lynette., Lynmeow" You said as you picked him up.

"MEOW-!"

Bonus :

"Y/N, I just had the weirdest dream ever." Lyney said as he stood up from his bed and stretched his arms.

"Hm, do tell." You smirked a little as Lyney started explaining how he turned in to a cat and you started calling him 'Lynmeow' which 100% did not happen in reality.

"Well my dear Lynmeow, I suppose you should get used to that name now."

"NO-!"

@2024 iara, do not translate my works nor repost them as yours.

[izzyspussy]

re: those fic ideas always going around about roy bidding on jamie at the next for the children gala

i like imagining sheryl is out for fucking blood this time. she lost jamie that year, then he wasn't there the next (two?) year(s), so now she's fucking determined. she's going to get him god damn it.

so sheryl bids like £6k or whatever, and then keeley as a sort of nostalgic thing bids £8k, and then sheryl bids £10k and there's no bex this year so it seems like maybe that's going to be that, but then roy bids. (he would have stayed out of it if keeley kept bidding, she is an acceptable winner.)

and roy. he's not lazy, obviously, but he hates tedium, he hates repeating himself, he hates attention except for what he wants attention for specifically lmao, and he's got plenty of money to burn. he has something to get done and he wants it done quickly and decisively. so instead of doing normal bids like a normal person, whatever sheryl bids he fucking doubles it.

so he bids £20k. she bids £25k. he bids £50k. she's getting frustrated, she's not into paying this much, but she's fucking determined!! she wants him!!! so she bids £51k. roy bids £102k. everyone's like.... bro omg.

jamie up on stage is like that's so much fucking money. hey, rebecca? hey? that's so much fucking money, actually. that's enough. call it. he gets it, he won. that's so much fucking money. (and like it's part genuine, that really is SO much fucking money, and jamie may be rich now but he grew up poor and that is a lot of fucking money!! but also it's a great excuse to wrap this up, to say okay roy won it's over! and get down.)

and rebecca - slightly shell shocked tbh, but also kind of reading how eager jamie is to get down - is like okay yeah he won that's it. a date with jamie tartt sold to roy kent for 102,000 fucking pounds. and she sends jamie on his way, and there's a lull between him and the next person because everyone is sort of stuck here.

because obviously, no one in this room knows why roy bid, nevermind why he would bid so fucking much. they don't know he didn't necessarily want to win so much as he wanted to make sure no one else did. they don't know he's been haunted by the joke he and keeley made back then ever since he figured out why it was so upsetting to jamie - even though, to be perfectly frank, jamie hasn't figured that out himself, and anyway it didn't make a lasting impression on him, like, it honestly was not that big of a deal in reality, but you know roy kent, any chance he gets to feel like a bad guy he's taking it. so to the outside point of view, roy wanted jamie so bad he was willing to spend £102k to get him. which is honestly a wild bid from anyone, nevermind a) a man and b) a man who could just ask jamie to hang out whenever he wants.

jamie goes right over to him as soon as he gets down from the stage, and he thanks him, and roy tells him he's just making up for last time, and jamie hardly even remembers what he's talking about but it's really fucking nice of him to even care, so he gives him a hug and he says thanks again, not just for this, and roy says he's been fucking honored, and jamie tears up and calls him a prick because they both know he knew that would happen if he said that, and roy does his sinister little laugh because he meant it but he did also do that on purpose, yeah.

and then jamie's like move i'm gay to whoever is sitting next to roy so he can take that seat, because roy just paid £102k (and made quite the grand gesture) so his date with jamie starts right now and goes for as long as roy fucking wants it to thank you very much.

[sidekick-hero]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles, prompt "spring" | wc: 1.000 | also written for the Stranger Things writing guild prompt "new beginnings" to celebrate @pearynice's birthday 💜| tags: second chances, blind date, exes to lovers, modern au

Eddie often wonders why he can't say no to Chrissy. It's become as much a part of his life as his love for Metallica or his ambidexterity. Whenever Chrissy insists, "You can't stay home every night and mope, Eddie. It's time to get out there and meet new people. You should start dating again, Eddie. New city, new opportunities." he tries to reason with her. He explains that he's not moping, for heaven's sake, and that he's meeting lots of people through his guitar lessons. He insists that he's content to be single. But Chrissy is relentless, wearing him down until he finds himself clad in black jeans and a burgundy button-down he never knew he owned, heading to his favorite bar to meet the mysterious blind date Chrissy has arranged for him.

Chrissy hasn't provided much information about the guy, just that he's about Eddie's height, athletic, and apparently very handsome and 'dreamy' - whatever that means. Eddie isn't convinced that this is his usual type, nor is he sure that he fits the bill for what this guy might be looking for. But Chrissy has a point; it's been over five years since Eddie's last serious relationship, and none of the guys he's dated since have been anything more than casual flings. Maybe it's not such a bad idea to try something different.

Since moving to New York eight months ago - first as Chrissy's roommate, then as her friend - Eddie has been searching for a sense of purpose. Los Angeles had lost its allure; too superficial, too jaded, too artificial. The only real connection he had there was Steve, who left the city and Eddie years ago, leaving Eddie adrift. Eventually, Eddie came to terms with the unlikelihood of his rockstar dreams and decided it was time to face reality.

Hence his move to New York in search of a fresh start. And maybe, just maybe, a chance at a lasting relationship - one that can mend the Steve-shaped hole in his heart.

It's hope more than anything that brings Eddie to the Hideout to meet his blind date on a warm spring night in late May. According to Chrissy, the guy would stand out with his overly preppy attire - a stark contrast to the Hideout's dive bar atmosphere.

The bar is bustling, as usual for a Saturday night. As Chrissy predicted, Eddie spots his date almost immediately - not because of his outfit, but because of the familiar figure perched on a barstool, nursing a beer.

It's Steve Harrington sitting across from Eddie, every bit as captivating and alluring as the day they first met seven years ago, when they were both waiting tables in Los Angeles.

The moment Steve spots him is unmistakable and his wide eyes convey that Steve, too, had no idea that Eddie would be his blind date - a twist of fate that brings them together again after so many years and miles apart.

"Steve," Eddie croaks, his throat dry and his heart racing as he approaches. "I had no clue, I swear. If I'd known Chris was setting me up with you, I would've warned her that you'd probably never want to see me again. Been there, done that, right?" He chuckles nervously, realizing he's on the verge of putting his foot in his mouth - his usual tendency. "God, I'm so sorry, really."

Steve continues to stare at him, blinking as if trying to make sense of the situation. Slowly, like shifting tectonic plates, he returns to the present, acknowledging the awkwardness of being set up on a blind date with his ex.

His voice, slightly breathless, finally breaks the silence, accompanied by a faint smile. "Well, you didn't ramble quite as much on our last first date."

Eddie can't suppress the laughter that bubbles up from within him, recalling fondly their first first date. "I have no idea how I pulled that off, to be honest. I was so nervous, I thought I was going to puke."

Steve's laughter fills the air, drawing a grin from Eddie. "Yeah, you looked even paler than usual, and the bar for that was actually pretty low."

"Oi, just so you know, it's called alabaster skin and it's considered very sexy."

Steve lets his eyes roam over Eddie's slender form in a way that still manages to fluster him, heat creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks.

"Sure," he agrees easily after a moment's pause. Then, meeting Eddie's eyes, Steve continues, his tone serious. "Listen, I had no idea you'd be my blind date, but now that we're both here... maybe we can catch up? It's been a while, and truth is, I miss you. I've been thinking a lot about you, about us. I know we broke up for a reason, but I feel like... maybe we could've tried harder, y'know? I could've tried harder."

That's so Steve, Eddie thinks, feeling a pang in his chest. He's never met anyone who wears his heart on his sleeve the way Steve does.

Pulling a five-dollar bill from his pocket, Eddie places it on the bar before reaching out to Steve. "Wanna get out of here? Take a walk and talk?"

"There's nothing I'd rather do," Steve replies, intertwining their hands as they leave the bar and step out into the warm, spring-scented night air.

They find themselves in a nearby diner, where they spend the night talking - about their past, their present, and, tentatively, their future. They only part as the sun begins to rise, a soft kiss goodbye all they allow themselves to end this magical night.

A kiss and a confession.

"I'm so glad we got a second chance, Eddie," Steve whispers, voice full of sincerity. "I don't want to start it off with a lie.A friend stood me up; that's why I was at the bar. Not as your date."

Spring, with its promise of new beginnings, has never smelled sweeter, Eddie thinks as he kisses Steve again with a grin on his face.

[mrsnancywheeler]

having an angsty morning (there's some nsfw implications at the end), but like being in a place where you're feeling like you need some extra love and attention, but at the same time finnick odair being in a place where he's being consumed by his thoughts, easily distracted, quiet, and just paying attention to his thoughts. and then you're kind of spiraling because your brain is freaking out that you're not getting what you need.

"finnick...finnick. finnick!"

"sorry. what's going on?" you're snapping him out of whatever daze he was in just long enough to talk to him.

"I was just saying I went shopping earlier, got some new shoes, and dresses, and swimsuits."

and he's not closed off, he hasn't shut down, but he's not being the eager to love on finnick that you need today. "I'm sure you'll look gorgeous, sweetheart." and there's a pang because you want him to ask to see them, for him to have you try them on like he would on other days, but you don't want to ask for it.

so you just nod, "yeah." smile strained.

later he's saying he's tired, "I'm gonna take a nap, wake me up if I'm not down in an hour."

"I'll just come with you, could use a nap too." In all reality you just want an excuse to cuddle, you'll happily lie awake while he rests if his arms are wrapped around yours.

"honey, you're not tired at all. don't want you to throw off your sleep schedule and then you can't sleep later." he's right and you hate it, especially that he's still caring and loving when missing what you're really wanting.

"yeah, you're right. have a good nap, Finn" he's smiling softly, kissing you quickly, and you hate that right now your brain is aching for more. you ache to be consumed by his presence. ache to be perceived by him.

after dinner, you're finally cuddled up watching a movie, but you just want to talk to him, to laugh with him. maybe the movie's great, but you have no idea because all you want is his focus to be away from it. which usually isn't hard to do, most movies he'll spend time staring at you, make jokes, but now he's completely occupied. it feels terrible to want his undivided attention this bad, but you're persisting.

"you know-" he's cutting you off with his finger on your lips.

he's smiling softly, playing with your hair, "shhh, let's just watch the movie, sweetheart."

it feels perfectly reasonable but now you're wondering if he really just fucking shushed you. usually you wouldn't mind, but you feel so desperate to be pampered and so confused on why it just happens to be the one day he's not already at that level. you feel ridiculous, but it hurts regardless. so you land on just trying to give yourself some extra love and attention is he won't, it won't be the same, but some self-care could be what you need.

you're off the couch as quick as you can be and ignoring finnick's curious look, at first he just assumed you're going to get a snack or to the bathroom and will be back. but you decide to just take a few deep breaths, start your skincare routine, paint your nails, maybe run a bath after, just try to relax, you don't know why you're getting so tense and anxious to be loved on.

and you're halfway done painting your toes when there's a knock on the bathroom door. "you can come in"

and finnick's slowly opening the door, taking a deep breath, "I know I should have just paused the movie and not shushed you, sweetheart. I'm sorry, you wanna come back downstairs now?"

how does he miss the point so completely? how can him trying be so endearing yet so frustrating? "thank you, finnick. I just don't feel like watching a movie right now."

"bring a book down or something, paint your nails down there."

"I don't want to."

he's scoffing, "I'm just trying to spend some time with you right now-"

you're standing up, jamming the lid to the nail polish on, "if you're gonna get mad at me then leave me alone, i didn't ask for your apology, and I didn't ask you to come in here!"

"you stormed off in the middle of a movie, was I not supposed to check on you?"

"now you want to check up on me? see what I need?" you're not being fair, you know that, but you don't care.

"what does that even mean?" and you can't stop yourself from crying. everything is too much. he's acting like something's dawned on him, but still misses the mark. "you must be exhausted, sweetheart, god, I'm so dense. I should never have told you no to taking a nap with me earlier, I just wanted to be alone for a while, but you really needed some rest. I'm sorry for getting upset with you, let's go to sleep."

"I'm not fucking tired, finnick! oh my god, just, you don't get it!"

he's taking deep breaths, "what don't I get, sweetheart?"

suddenly you're feeling too embarrassed to even say it, "nothing."

"nothing? nice try, c'mon talk to me, I care about you and want you to feel better." he's grabbing your hand, a shoulder, trying to rub them and remind you to breathe and then open up.

"you've just been ignoring me." you're basically whispering it.

*ignoring you? no, I haven't, we've spent time together."

"see, you don't get it."

his eyebrows are furrowing like he's trying to understand, "you need to tell me, to use your words, I know you can."

you're rolling your eyes, whining in frustration and one stern look from him is shutting that down as quickly as you can. "we've spent time together, but you're not paying attention to me." when he gets it he's laughing and you're pulling away, frowning, " don't laugh at me! nevermind, it's stupid forget about it."

"it's not stupid, sweet girl. but you're throwing a temper tantrum about me not paying attention to you instead of telling me. all this when you could've just asked."

"usually you already do it!"

his eyes soften, "I know, I'm sorry. sit down, let me finish painting your toes and when we're done, I'll run you a bath, read you a book, sound good, pretty girl?"

and you're already smiling, "yes, thank you. 'm sorry"

he's shaking his head with a smile, "don't worry about it, it's my fault. I've drilled in the expectation and then didn't follow through, my poor baby-"

and you can't help the things that does to you, "don't call me that."

and in faux innocence with his puppy dog eyes he asking, "why not?"

[brayneworms]

cold as ice, baby | hinata hajime

kinktober day one: fingering

word count. 2.9k

content. MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI, trans!hinata, gender neutral reader, fingering, established but new relationship, kissing, no real power dynamics but hinata likes being in control, biting, reader doesn't get touched but it's implied at the end

♪ freak - lana del rey.

kinktober mlist | regular mlist

Some days, Hajime's self-loathing is no joke.

It feels like the heat in Jabberwock intensifies it sometimes. Sort of... bastes it. Like it's cooking in its own filthy greasy residue and making him feel all oily and gross and hot. So, so hot. Under that stupid sun he cooks, and he sweats, and he feels like they can all smell it on him.

Probably not though. He showers every day, and nobody gets close enough to try.

It makes him feel a little sick, is all. How much he wants you sometimes. He feels gross, barely a step above Hanamura or maybe worse. He feels like he should go to jail sometimes for the way he ogles you. It's a hot island, so sometimes you have so much skin out, shoulders and legs, gleaming from sunblock lotion, slightly tacky from the whitish paste. Or the sea salt in your hair, or the chapstick you'd loaned from Saionji on your lips, apple and cinnamon. Or the swimsuits. Hajime's mouth goes dry.

He does not want to think about you in swimwear. Because then he's not going to stop thinking about you in swimwear, and it'll lead somewhere bad, which is the whole fucking issue, really.

You're so new, the both of you. He's liked you for ages, but you've only been official for a month or so. He can't just pounce on you like a starving lion. Even though he wants to. Even though he really, really wants to.

He watches you sit cross-legged with Tanaka to feed his hamsters, or get a piggyback from Owari with her strong hands on your thighs, or sit down and braid Ibuki's hair into loving little plaits, your fingers skating over the pale skin of her neck and scalp.

And it does something to him. He imagines your hands, smoothing down the tawny skin of his arms, his waist, encircling his ankles, gripping his throat, buried in his hair. He looks at your fingers and imagines them balling up the stupid standard-issue bedsheets underneath you. He sees you stretch out your legs and sees them bent in half, over his shoulders, around his waist like a vice, your pretty eyes clenched shut, your pretty mouth hung open.

Heat pools in the pit of his stomach.

Avoiding you and taking a lot of cold—unforgivingly cold—showers makes for a good temporary solution, but oh look, hasn't he just shot himself in the foot and scored a home goal with it? Because it just means you come knocking on his cabin door looking for answers.

At night.

When everyone's asleep, and you're alone, and he's only wearing his boxers because of this stupid perpetual heat.

"Have I done something wrong?" you ask, your voice all small and hurt, and Hajime wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

"No! Nonono," he blurts out in a panic, and he steps aside to let you in like a moron, like the idiot he so clearly is. It's not the first time you've been in his cabin, obviously, but it's night and you look all soft and vulnerable and he thinks you're freshly showered because he can smell the coconut bodywash you like to use.

But then reality breaks through because you look—honestly hurt, crossing your arms and shifting your weight from foot to foot, avoiding his eye, and then Hajime mostly just feels like a huge piece of shit.

"I'm sorry," he sighs, and pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes in a gesture of weariness. "It's—it really isn't anything you, uh, did. It's me. I'm just... weird."

"Weird about what?" you press, stepping forward. "C'mon, you can tell me. Whatever it is, we can just... talk it out."

You're so sweet. "It's—uh, honestly, it's just kinda really embarrassing. And stupid. And... weird. And I really don't wanna weird you out, or like, make you think I'm... something I'm not, 'cause I'm not, like, the thing that you're gonna think I am but I just—"

"Hajime." Your hands on his shoulders, clamping down. The warm soft skin dimples between your fingers. Hajime's voice dies in his throat. He stares on, cheeks cherry-red, entirely too hot, sweat collecting unpleasantly on the nape of his neck. "I can guarantee nothing you tell me is going to freak me out, or whatever it is you're scared of. And I can see it's clearly... weighing down on you."

You're so nice. Weighing down on you is such a nice choice of words. In reality he probably looks constipated from stress.

"It's just—" His tongue flicks out nervously to wet his lips, and your eyes absently flit down to track the movement, oh fuck, "It's just..." Bad idea bad idea bad idea. "I kind of... I don't want to come on too strong and... scare you off."

Your brow knits; he thinks he sees some sort of understanding fall into place behind your eyes, but it's kind of distant. "Come on too strong how?"

His blush spreads from his cheeks to the tip of his ears, down his neck. "I... ahaha..." The nervous breathless stupid laugh he gives makes him want to strangle himself. "Y-you know. When I'm around you, I..." He swallows hard. "It—I can't help but think about... stuff I shouldn't."

He sees the moment it clicks into place for you; the slight widening of your eyes, the parting of your lips. "A-ah."

Mortification floods him like a tsunami. "Sorry! Fuck, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I never should've—" He's burning alive, he's actually baking like one of Hanamaru's luxury strips of meat that he slowcooks in the oven for hours on end so the whole hotel building ends up stinking of fucking, chicken and stock and rosemary all day—

"Hajime, hey." Your hands squeeze on his shoulders. "Just—breathe for a sec, please, you're freaking me out but not for the reasons you think you are."

Hajime gulps, eyes you nervously, and takes in a few desperate pulls of air. He feels small, like he's actively shrinking.

"First of all. It's not... like, weird, you know, to f-feel that kind of stuff in general," you say, incredibly haltingly like it's very awkward for you. "But it's even less weird when you're actually, you know, in a relationship, and I—I don't want you to feel weird about this, that's all, or about telling me when you're—you know. Because I'd be down. I mean, to help. Assuming that's what you want, I mean."

Hajime stares at you. His brain abruptly throws up its hands, bluescreens, and goes for a smoke break.

"Wha—wha?" he says intelligently. You smile fondly, the kind of smile that reminds Hajime why he fell in love with you in the first place.

"Do you want me to help you out?" you repeat, very clearly, and Hajime buries his face in his hands. Heat shoots through him like liquid lightning, illuminating every pore of his body. He can feel it gather between his legs.

"You don't have to," he mutters, heart thumping against his ribcage.

"Hajime," you say pleasantly. "D'you think you're the only one who's had to hold themselves back?"

It's pure, unadulterated shock that makes him lift his face out his hands to gawp at you, but the moment he does you cup his face with both of your hands and kiss him. He wonders if you can feel the heat of his burning skin on your palms, whether you care, and then your tongue is in his mouth and he stops wondering anything at all. He groans softly against your lips, and finally his useless hands move and he's grabbing, curling a fistful of your shirt in one hand and cupping the back of your neck with the other. He feels like he's been depriving himself of you for so long, and for fucking what? You feel incredible.

He walks you backwards until your knees his the frame of his bed and you're unseated with an undignified yelp. You bounce on the mattress, peering up at him. Hajime swallows hard. "Is this... okay? We don't have to—anything you want, God, anything—"

You put two hands on his waist, just above the waistline of his boxers, and Hajime stammers to a halt. He gazes at you, wide-eyed, brilliantly red. You press your lips to the skin just under his navel and his stomach sort of convulses at the sensitivity, and you keep going, down the trail of hair that disappears behind the waistband of his underwear, kissing over the fabric until you get to—

Hajime jolts and swears. His hands clench reflexively into fists at his side. "Lay down," he bursts out, and then flushes deeper. "Uh... please. If you want to. I—"

You giggle and pry your hands off him, leaving him feeling colder than ever. Hajime watches, mouth dry as you drape yourself lazily over his bed. Your sleep short ride up your thighs, the collar of your shirt dips down, and all the skin is making his head dizzy. He clambers over you a little clumsily, hitting your knee with his with a thud that makes you wince.

"Sorry!" he panicks, hands fluttering nervously over your leg. "Sorry, did that—that was an accident, I—"

"It's okay, it's okay," you laugh, the back of your hand covering your mouth. "Jeez, Hajime. Relax a little maybe."

His flush must be crawling down his chest at this point. "Yeah. Maybe." He glances around. "Kind of hard."

"Is it?" you ask with a pointed glance at his boxers. He groans, but the levity is extremely welcome, makes him feel less anxious. Reminds him it's just you, and you would never seriously laugh at him. Reminds him that he's safe.

"Is it okay if I'm—I mean." He wipes his clammy palms surreptitiously over his thighs. "I feel better when I'm more... in control. Y'know?"

You smile up at him. "That's fine with me. Are you going to boss me around now?"

Hajime laughs feebly, glancing away. He thinks it's a reasonable pretense that the idea doesn't make him ten times wetter.

He kneels between your legs and kisses you. You're so soft, skin warm and pliant and fresh from the shower. He can't hold back a moan when your tongue slips against his, and when your hand slides over his waist again, the pinky finger of your hand grazing the band of his underwear, he finally plucks up the courage to grab your wrist and drag it.

He lets out a choked sound into your mouth as your pliant hand slides between his legs. Pulling back from the kiss, panting hotly against your mouth. "Okay?" he asks hoarsely. "Please, oh my god, I need... only if you want, only if you want to..."

Your hand twitches to life inside the tight grip of his fist, and you skim your fingers over the wet spot of the fabric of his underwear.

Hajime shudders, dropping his head into the crook of your shoulder. "Ah... oh, fuck..." His shaking hand drops your wrist, reprimanding himself fiercely for maybe grabbing you too hard, but you didn't say anything, but he shouldn't just grab you and lead you like you're cattle, he opens his mouth to apologise when you cup his cunt through his boxers and he loses the ability to do anything at all. Anything other than moan into your skin, starting to get salty from the heat and the proximity, and he goes delirious with the idea that he's ruining you a little. Like you've just showered, you'd scrubbed your body all over with lovely scented soap and he's going to undo it methodically, deliberately, and you're going to let him, when it's all over you're going to smell like sweat and him and you'll have to clean all over again.

It's an intoxicating thought, the idea that someone as soft as you would let someone like him mess you up.

Your hand slips under the waistband of his underwear, follows the trail of hair down and finding him soft and hot and dripping wet. Hajime curses as your fingers skate almost curiously over his clit, his folds.

"Oh shit," you curse, mumbling almost more to yourself. "Y-you're so wet."

He makes a high, embarrassed noise in the back of his throat, eyes clenched shut, and his hips rock up into your hand in a gesture that feels inherently needy.

Despite his grossly obvious urgency, you take the time to bring your fingers back to your mouth and press them inside. Hajime watches, slack-jawed, pupils blown. When you take your fingers out, they're gleaming wet, and you grin at him. "You taste amazing."

Hajime is assaulted with all new images; your head between his legs, his hand on the top of your hair or tangled in your hair. Your tongue, soft and skilled against him, dripping spit and cum onto the carpet, and he has to stuff his knuckles in his mouth to stop himself moaning out loud. Sweat drips off his forehead and lands on your chest.

"Y/n," he croaks. "I'm gonna lose my mind."

You smile almost shyly, as if you didn't just have your fingers in your mouth right in front of him. "O-okay. Okay. Just, um... okay, I got it."

Hajime swallows hard. "Y-you're still sure?"

"I'm so sure," you tell him earnestly. And with that your hand glides down, over his collarbones, the twin scars arching beneath his breastbone, down his tense stomach and under his boxers again. This time, your fingers move with purpose. They roll over his clit and down the centre of his folds, parting them, dipping inside just slightly before coming back up. He feels a shivering mix of pain and pleasure as two of your fingers circle his clit, an indication that he's almost too sensitive; he feels like he's on fire, like forks of lightning are emanating from the vertice between his legs, and he lets out choked, high noises against your throat.

Mindlessly, it seems, his hips roll against your head, seeking something more. You take the initiative to prod with one finger, dipping lower from the other before teasing at his entrance. His thighs shake and part slightly for you, and you slip inside without another word.

The breach feels like breathing for the first time; he's so wet and so sensitive that you slide inside with barely a hint of pain, easing in up to the first knuckle.

"Ohhh god," he groans, feeling mindless, feeling weightless. "Ohgodohgodohgod..."

"What should I—"

"More," he nearly begs. "I want you inside."

The word should be embarrassing, but they just aren't. Not in front of you. You get your finger in slowly, inch by inch until your knuckles press up against him and he's clenching the sheets with his free hands.

He almost convulses when your finger curls up like it's searching for something; it presses against a spongey spot inside him and he whines from somewhere deep in his chest, and he hears you swear to yourself as you start moving in and out.

"Nngh, oh—hah..."

Oh he's gonna die. Your fingers are inside him. He's gonna fuckin' die—

One turns to two turns to three, your thumb rolling constant circles over his clit, sometimes catching so sensitively that he has to bite back whimpers. There's the stretch and the burn but even that is okay, feels good after a few moments. He feels distantly really bad that he's not touching you, but he will after, fucking hell he will after, whatever you want him to, he'd kiss the fuckin' ground you walk on for making him feel so good right now. All too soon he feels the familiar tightening in his stomach like a band.

"H-hey," he gasps out. "I think I—I'm c-close, so..."

"O-oh," you say, sounding equally breathless. "It's okay."

Your fingers push up into him, curling almost viciously into that spot inside him just as your other hand taps his jaw and guides his face to yours for a kiss. It's barely more than panting against each other's lips as your thumb presses down hard on his clit.

"Fuck, fuck," he cries. "Fuck, you're so fuckin'—so perfect—'m cumming, shit—"

He sobs out as he cums, alight from the inside out, shaking like he's just been hit by lightning. The pressure is so much that he needs an outlet, his finges pressing bruising marks into your hip and thigh, and he turns his head and bites down almost feverishly on your collarbone.

You tap his arm with a yelp, fingers jerking inside him as he starts to come down. He can feel his release dripping down his inner thighs and he lifts his head groggily.

"Shit," he mumbles eloquently, staring at the teeth mark on your skin. He didn't break skin, thank fuck, but he still feels mortified. "Sorry. Oh my god, sorry. That was—that was a total accident, I..."

"Ah, it—it's okay." You swallow hard. "Was that..."

Hajime shakes his head dazedly. "Amazing," he croaks. "Y-you're amazing." He gets the werewithal to roll off you with his shaking limbs so his weight isn't pushing into you anymore.

You let out a long, slow breath. "Was pretty amazing for me too."

Hajime glances at you with a trickle of amusememt. "Not yet it wasn't."

Your brow scrunches in confusion—but realisation dawns when you feel his hand slide up your thigh. In his eyes is a question, one that you nod hastily to. Hajime grins weakly.

"Good," he breathes. "As soon as I get my breath back, it's your turn." And it sounds like the sweetest thing ever when he adds, a moment later with a twist of that characteristic cockiness that leaps out at the most inopportune of moments: "I can't wait to see how pretty you're gonna look when I make you cum."

[thestarsarecool]

Hearing "Mistress and Maid" next to "Eleanor Rigby," "For No One" and "Yesterday," I realized that McCartney's public image as an eternal optimist is not supported by his work. It was something I'd been circling around since I heard Steve Earle's new version of "I'm Lookin Through You," as bitter a put-down song as ever got softened in the studio. McCartney has certainly written lots of positive songs, but from "Hey Jude" and "Let It Be" to "That Day is Done" and "Put It There," his optimism is always in the face of a shadow. There is always some awful thing that has to be overcome. If there's a defining subtext in McCartney's music it's probably "Take these broken wings and learn to fly."

"Yeah, well," McCartney said quietly, "that's me I suppose. I think that the danger is if you just get into the happy songs then it can be a little bit music hall. It can get a little bit light. So I like to always have a little bit of edge, or else a little bit of tongue-in-cheek. You know, 'When I'm 64' isn't really a song about growing old, although on the surface it is. It's a joke song, but it has serious concerns in it, a little melancholy.

'Yesterday'--she went away and all that shit. 'Suddenly I'm not half the man I used to be.' But if you think about it, I was writing those in my early 20s! Talking about not half the man I used to be when I was barely a man!" I said, if you'd been half that man you'd have been eleven.

"They have more poignancy now," McCartney said, "just because of the water that's been under all our bridges. So we all now relate to those lyrics a little bit more seriously. Perhaps." He changed gears and said, "But you know, my composing has always been made up, it's a fantasy. I remember George Harrison saying to me when I did 'Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da,' 'How'd you do that? You don't know anyone named Desmond or Molly, you don't know any of these people.'

I said, 'I just like making up a story.' A short story writer doesn't necessarily know the pit and the pendulum, he hasn't necessarily been to Dracula's castle. But he makes it up as an escape in a way. I think a lot of my songwriting always was, and still is, an escape."

From?

"From the harsh realities of the world. If I'm in a bad mood, I always find that a good time to write a song. Go off on your own and put the feelings in a song rather than in someone's face. The fact that it's a musical vehicle seems to defuse it a bit. Rather than just shouting at someone or wagging a finger, you can get those emotions out.”

Paul McCartney in Musician Magazine, August 1st 1995.

[oozedninjas]

2012 verse and how they would comfort you

In solidarity of the cramps since this is my reality rn too☝️🤓

Mikey

- cooks you something hearty and warm that he believes will help sooth the cramps

- probably a stew or something that will help your iron levels (this advise came from Donnie)

- will also share his snacks to help ease any cravings

- would give you a decent back massage to help with any pesky back pain/cramps

- will want to keep a close watch on you to make sure you're OK in case you need anything specific to cope

- is just a bit clingy with wanting skin to skin to make sure you're okay and not actually dying on his watch

Leo

- will try to be supportive by getting you to do some movements to get the blood flowing to ease the pain

- when he realises all that's done is agitate you and hasn't helped at all he will resort to other methods

- will heat up and lend you his wheat pack to use for the cramps

- is a little awkward about how to help since his first approach was a dud so will just kind of linger close by or keep an ear out in case you need anything

- the second you call his name however he's there in seconds

- yes, what do you need, I'll get it :)

Raph

- will try to be very sympathetic towards you in this time of need

- though admittedly is a little at a loss for how to help

- would ask you what it is you need and then proceed to get exactly that because he's such a straightforward thinker

- something warm? I'll steal donnie blanket or Leo's wheat bag for you.

- something comfy? Take my bed.

- something to eat? Let me bring you the whole pantry until there's something you like :))

Donnie

- will find some way to keep you warm to help you pull through those really bad cramps

- will lend you his electric blanket he keeps in the lab

- will also find his way under the blanket for cuddles (if you're cool with it and not wanting space from the heightened agitation)

- will also offer massages to help ease any pain

🐢🤓 keisha :)

OMG this is so sweet and so true 😭💜 Mikey knows best!! loving it

Thank you very much sis, this made me feel better 🫶🪻

[mangofanarts]

So I wanted to talk about some of my thoughts on some of the signs Tallulah gave to Pomme as advice/comfort her about the bad situation. For context, in yesterday's stream, Pomme informs Tallulah about the last time she saw her dad, he was "so sick, the worst he has ever been." That he wrote some letters, bought her a plushie and told her to sleep, that she needed to remind him to tell her something for tomorrow. Even mentioning that she's "still waiting to see him."

Pomme even regrets listening to Bad because now she says "At what cost? Because now, we have no idea where he is. We thought of the worse....I have no idea what happened."

Pomme even mentions what she and Dapper did to try to get clues for Bad's disappearance. However, their attempts haven't worked and they haven't gotten information. Leading Pomme saying that the situation is "just confusing, and... I don't know what to do"

After listening to Pomme explain the situation she's in about Bad, the first thing Tallulah says is, "Not lose hope."

Those choice of words are both interesting and sad to me. Pomme has been trying to not lose hope, she's been so desperately trying is the thing. Her own dad (Bad) has told her to not lose hope before on situations. So, Pomme tries her best in not losing it. But, during the moment she realized that Bad's sickness to death was inevitable when he spoke to her and Tallulah that one night, of course, she was going to lose hope. Of course, when he's gone "missing", she's gonna wonder whether or not her efforts ever really worked in helping him or if he was just lying to her to make her feel better. "I tried to help in any way, I used to prepare medicine for him, health potions, in hopes it could help, he told me it did.... did it really..."

She made a whole backpack for him, in case it did help him. She used to hope it did. She's done a ritual with Dapper in hopes to try to bring Bad back or some kind of clue to where he is and it didn't work. She has tried so bad to have hope.

Tallulah telling Pomme to have hope just reminds me of the times that Bad would tell Tallulah to have hope about her papi. Have hope that he's going to come back one day, that it's going to be "soon." "Soon" is a word that Tallulah despises because it's something she's constantly been told and Tallulah has tried to have hope before for her papi. While their situations are so very different, since her papi hasn't come back for months and Bad's been dead for like around seven days. The situations are also similar too in that these are kids that are wanting their parents. These are kids that are still waiting for their parents. How a kid feels about time can feel so different to how has time actually been in reality. (Btw, this is under my assumption that time works realistically in this minecraft game. Rather then it being like cartoon logic in that "Oh, Bad's been death for a month because Bad said it was" when in reality, it's been around 7 days). For example, a kid waiting for school to end can feel like forever, when in reality it's only two minutes left in class. A kid that's lost in a store can feel like forever when it's only been like thirty seconds before they're found by their parent. Richarlyson yesterday, has even commented, "KKKKKKK get back here already tio, it's been already too long."

Bad being gone around 7 days and it feels long to Richarlyson. If it feels long to him, then you can only wonder how Pomme and Dapper feel when they constantly try to look for him. How it must feel even longer for Dapper considering that he's almost always has had his dad with him. I'm getting side-tracked because my point is about Tallulah's signs to Pomme.

Tallulah also mentions to Pomme, "You can wait thousand years for the right person, as long as you keep them in your memory and your heart that way, you can feel them close to you."

Now this, I feel like comes from a place of heart from Tallulah considering her situation with her papi. But, I also felt like that advice reminded me of something. (you read these signs to right to left btw)

So, I decided to go and look back into Bad's vod, "QSMP - The Eggs Might Die, Create is a Nightmare." Bad: "That's the thing Tallulah, unlike photos, you get to keep your memories forever. So you don't have to worry, you carry those with you ever and ever." (8:24:19 is the start - 8:24:32 is the end of it) He said that to Tallulah after Tallulah was upset she lost the photos she had with her papi before. She was jumping up and down happily in response. Her signs feel like she listened to her Tio's words about keeping her memories with her papi forever and carrying them around. In that same vod, Tallulah says "I don't want to lose another person close to me." So keep in mind that she still considers Bad to be close to her, so the idea of her listening to his advice does not feel far-fetched to me.

She has also listened his advice before in the past when he took care of her. She's even mentioned once during a Tallulah time that he "siempre tiene los mejores consejo." (always has the best advice)

You can argue that she said that about him months ago so she might not feel that way anymore. However, I still think she does feel this way about him. A month before, in January, during a Tallulah time, she said she was feeling depressed, maybe she can talk to her Tio Bad about it.

In a more recent vod, "QSMP - The Eggs Might Die, Create is a Nightmare." She talks to Bad about how she hasn't seen her papi in months, how she is upset she no longer has his letters or his pictures. She feels safe enough to talk to him about her issues and still trusts him for his comfort/advice to her. But, I didn't only want to bring up Bad's advice to Tallulah and Tallulah listening to it. I also just wanted to mention it was a bit ironic that she said that advice regarding memories to Pomme. An egg that has suffered memory issues before because of a brick hitting her head from the ending of purgatory. While Pomme isn't suffering memory issues anymore since she had regained them, I just thought it was a bit ironic. Second thing I wanted to mention is that while she says that to Pomme about Bad, we don't know if that's going to be the same case with Bad to Pomme. Or Bad to Dapper either. We don't know if Bad is going to come back from the dead with his memories in tact about his kids. If he'll have his memories of them while Pomme keeps him in her memories as she waits for him. And then, these are Tallulah's other signs to Pomme, "I don't think he would leave you two alone on purpose, it does not sound like him at all. I'm pretty sure he will come back :)" (The signs are meant to be read from right to left btw)

While Tallulah's right in that it doesn't sound in character for Bad to abandon his kids. Bad used to be Tallulah's main babysitter in the past. He used to take care of her and he would listen to her issues. Which again, also includes her feelings about her papi and how much she misses him. Tallulah has faith in her Tio Bad from him knowing how she has felt when her papi was gone. That he will not cause those same feelings she felt about her papi onto his kids, Pomme and Dapper. That her Tio Bad will know better then to do that. (To be clear, while Tallulah was not abandoned by her papi - he left her in Philza's care while he was gone. She's mentioned before about how she feels like that. It does not mean that it's true nor does it mean that her papi loves her any less.)

I would apologize for comparing Tallulah's situation to Pomme's situation but Tallulah has also compared it herself in this sign from her own experience. "I know what waiting looks like after all". She understands the pain that Pomme is going through. I hope this post makes sense💀

[robotlesbianjavert]

WE'RE WINNING SO FAR........ I'M SCARED FOR THE NEXT SUMMARY PARAGRAPH THOUGH......

okay okay. leaks done. my rough thoughts ahead of sleeping on it/receiving full translations. i should update these when we do get something more proper though.

the bad

deku didn't kill himself out of respect for spinner's grief

deku getting to be cool and composed. he doesn't deserve it, he should be killing himself.

spinner blaming himself for not saving shigaraki sooner while he was possessed with afo like babe that is NOT your fault. i already saw one take being like wow it's so great that a character is finally taking accountability which is insane to me because WHY of all possible characters is it spinner and not a single person in power. what could spinner possibly do at the juncture he was in. go to the heroes? who killed twice and actively wanted shigaraki dead? take shigaraki and flee with his non-existent resources and inability to get shigaraki un-possessed? like fuck off. point that demand from accountability from characters it actually matters from.

the shoji mention. why is spinner calling him octopus. is it to continue to paint him in a villainous manner. why is he wishing him luck. why is spinner throwing a microaggression at shoji, is this to remind us readers that ooooohhhh spinner is suuuuch a hypocritical baddie or is it him being like, bitterly ironic. recognizing that shoji is trying Something but not really believing that Something will work. it's tone-deaf but so is everything about shoji. i just don't want spinner dragged through the mud on that.

like the balance of plotlines with "heteromorph discrimination" and "devotion to shigaraki" was always going to be dubious since MVA, i remember wondering where horikoshi would lean ahead of the hospital raid mini-arc, and obviously that Sucked Like Hell when it came to capitalizing on any meaningful commentary about discrimination but was awesome for the devotion bits. so seeing that shoji reference here reminds me of that imbalance. putting the emphasis on the devotion, which is ultimately the catalyst of spinner's development, but neglecting and worsening the discrimination bits, which formed the background of why spinner ends up so devoted to shigaraki in the first place. fuck it, it sucks.

deku doesn't deserve to remember shigaraki forever, because he should be killing himself, on page in front of a live studio audience. when he says he'll never forget shigaraki for the rest of his life it's because the end of his life will be five minutes from now.

why are support items enough to wake pops from a coma NOW. why are we skirting around the fact that deku was holding an old man's fate hostage in order to force a victim into being interacted with by her abuser because he's being emotionally blackmailed into it.

why are we ending on a gag. spinner is in widow mode but bakugou and todoroki are now forced to contend with fangirls. whatever.

deku should kill himself. because he hasn't deserved a single damn thing in this chapter so far besides admitting he's a murderer.

seriously there is no reality where spinner should be holding himself accountable for failing shigaraki. what the fuck was he supposed to do. refuse afo and get MURDERED? get packed with MORE quirks so that brain death was inevitable? approach a hero and get MURDERED? fuck off either the story needs to provide a tangible path for spinner to have taken that he denied or admit that he was powerless.

THE GOOD which i know. is shocking from me at this point.

so far i feel like spinner's outbursts and emotions are more or less validated and humanized by the narrative - throughout the leaks, i felt like he was held up as the positive counterpart that the readers are supposed to emphasize with over the citizens - who i'm sure we're supposed to see as Valid, but ultimately unknowing of the full story, inconsiderate and unchanged.

i can legally call deku a murderer! he admitted it! no one can stop me now!

while i can imagine a better manga where spinner as a creative is properly sprinkled in beyond the meaning behind his name, me and @codenamesazanka have tossed around the idea of spinner as a storyteller enough that i feel validated that spinner wants to tell shigaraki's story, and is the figure that ultimately humanizes shigaraki the most. i have some concern about attempts to go in on an agle where spinner is someone who only recognizes the "destructive" parts of shigaraki, but in the wider context like yeah. it should be spinner who tells shigaraki's story, and if nothing else is best positioned to portray him as a full person.

it's nice that pops isn't ditching chisaki after everything. i would very much like to know more about like, if pops is just not allowed to retake custody of eri or if he's choosing not to pursue it, if he has any deeper thoughts there. but it's nice that he's not giving up on the kid he raised into a life of crime.

spinner is gay. sure the chapter didn't say this outright but like he's gay and we know this. we can intuit.

sooooo funny after people complaining that shigaraki didn't leave last words for any other league members that this chapter goes out of it's way to specify that Yeah His Final Words Were For Spinner And For Spinner Alone. i've been bitter about shigaraki not getting to properly interact with the entire league since 2019 but this is funny why did the manga wait so long to confirm that shigaraki also cared about spinner instead of it being entirely one-sided.

[sakumz]

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₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. [ scaramouche x gn reader ]

a/n : retired enstars writer!? JAY KAY... tryna dig out all you genshin fans. ahem modern, school au.

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" how dumb can you be? " the indigo man said as he looks up from his notebook while you erase the board.

school is over and you're on cleaning duty. the guy, you're paired up with decides not to come that day to skip out on his duty. you sigh as you recalled what happened moments before everyone left the class.

" y/n! watch me play basketball. I'm gonna beat alhaitham this time, for sure! " cyno offers as he approach your desk with tighnari and kaveh following behind him.

" nah, I doubt you would. alhaitham had a pretty early sleep last night and he even woke up minutes before his usual alarm rings! doesn't that mean he's wide awake? " kaveh questions as tighnari shakes his head at his friends.

" sorry guys, I got clean up duty. why don't yall stay back and help me, " you give them a cheeky smile to which they immediately look away from you.

" h-hey now, " you start as they slowly back away.

making a dash to the door before you can grab anyone by the arm, hearing tighnari shout a " sorry! gotta go! " well at least one person is sorry.

snapping back to reality, you're done with the board. you make eye contact with hat guy. has he been staring at you, this whole time? how embarrassing! puffing your cheeks out as you look the other way, you hear his chair being pulled away from the desk. he approached you slowly and then grab your cheeks with one hand. making you suck in a breath with how close, you two were.

" w-what? " you stammered as you look away from his piercing stare.

" you're pretty cute, yknow. "

" how shameless can you be... " you mumbled as he finally let's you go. he exits the classroom as you're left with your thoughts and the empty classroom.

was that a confession? no, he didn't say he likes or love or admires you what...

the next day and what felt like weeks, was draining on its own. scaramouche and you rarely and barely talked about what happened that day or even held a simple conversation. is he mad? embarrassed? was it a joke he pulled on you and he's far from embarrassed to even talk to you or he felt bad about it? all these questions but you won't get an answer, knowing he's a stubborn man.

currently eating lunch with the tcg gang ft. alhaitham and watching the tcg gang play tcg aka just cyno playing against tighnari, kaveh can't help but look over your furrowed expression.

" are you mad because you're not playing the card game? " he starts as the rest then looks over at you, even alhaitham put his book down to stare at you.

" what? no, continue playing. " you quickly try to shoo away all the attention, even putting your sandwich down, to make a swatting motion.

making alhaitham uncharacteristic chuckle at your action, tighnari takes little peeks at you as you all continue what you were doing before lunch ends.

" hey, if there's something up... you know you can tell me right? or the boys, aren't we your... you know, trustful buddies? minus cyno, he's not worth that title. " tighnari grabs your wrist as the three continued to walk forward to class.

" I'm fine, really ? "

" that isn't convincing. there's clearly something going on, do you hate us? is it boy prob- "

" yes, it is. now stop it, we gotta go to class! " you hope he'll stop bothering you with all those questions. but truth be told, he's invested.

passing notes to you, isn't helping you get away with your scaramouche problem. reading your paper conversation with tighnari over and over, you're surprised cyno hasn't turned behind to take a look at the exchange. only alhaitham of the group has taken notice and even started to talk in the paper.

tighnari : boy problem, who is the boy?

y/n : scaramouche...

tighnari : dam wtf!?

y/n : SHUT UP!! he said I was cute

alhaitham : wth...

tighnari : indeed wth!

y/n : you guys ain't helping... this why cyno and kaveh are better than yall.

alhaitham : do you want me to tell scaramouche, you like him back?

y/n : you better shut it or I'm burning all your books and notes! >:(

tighnari : homie, you left the poor boy hanging. he def thinks you hate him.

you crush the paper conversation note as tighnari gave you one last look before focusing on the lesson. maybe both were right...

" hey you coming? earth to y/n~ " cyno sings as he pinches one of your cheeks.

right. it's after school, and who is on duty? scaramouche! he starts doing his clean up duty with nilou. you look over to him at the board from your desk as your gang of friends stands around your desk.

" you idiots, better get out soon. can't you see it's my turn to clean? I wanna finish this as quickly as possible. " scaramouche says as the five left the classroom and started conversing outside.

" sorry, you guys can go without me. " you say as alhaitham and tighnari give each other a knowing look while cyno and kaveh side eyes the three of you.

" call me when youre home, okay sweetie? " tighanri pats your shoulder before grabbing both kaveh and cyno arms and walking away before they could ask you any questions.

" goodluck, " alhaitham bids goodbye as he walks behind them, leaving you alone.

you decide to wait at the entrance of the school, one where scaramouche will go to once he's done cleaning. it took about thirty minutes and you can see the indigo man walking towards the entrace.

" fancy seeing you here, " he greets to which you shy away from.

" need something? " he asks as he stands infront of you.

" um, last time... why did you say what you said? "

" that you're cute? "

" yeah. "

" my guardian said I should be honest with my feelings so I did. didn't expect to be avoided and ignored though, are you that stupid to not be able to interpret what I meant? " he jabs your forehead with his index, making you stumble sightly.

" hey now, if it was a confession. at least do it properly! "

" well then, I like you. go out with me, would ya? " he blushes slightly as he looks away but extends his hand forward for you to grab.

" I said it so what do you say? don't leave me hanging! "

" yeah, sure I'll go out with you. " you blush back as he goes a slight deeper hue but a smile tugs at his lips as he replays in his head, your words. all's well, ends well.

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a/n : wanna explore fontaine with me? ( asia server ) I need genshin friends 😭😭