#but I am not about to commit to brainstorming that at all

[maideninorange]

Something I occasionally think about is why the spacesuits throughout the Pikmin series are Designed like that (in-universe I mean). Like, what features do a whistle and a glowing antenna like that have as something apparently part of the standard design? So here's my silly headcanon: mainly, they are intended to be safety features.

The antenna? It's meant to be a bright beacon that alerts potential rescuers right to someone in distress, especially when it's somewhere dark like a cave or the dark vacuum of space. It's this latter, probably very common, scenario that would inspire such a design feature. Especially considering how common place space travel is.

And as for the whistle? If the antenna is a distress beacon for the eyes, than the whistle is that for the ears. It's a built-in way to, assuming you are still conscious, let people know where you are. After all, what good will screaming do when you are drifting through space? No one can hear you scream in space...but they can hear a loud, sharp whistle! Also, assuming you are with a group of people, a great way to let them know where you are if you were to get separated during a worst case scenario. Especially since those helmets probably muffle your voice if you're far enough away. It's an easy way to play the hot-cold game of finding a sound's source going in places where such is usually perilous.

It just so happens that these safety features come quite in handy when you get stranded on a planet full of carrot creatures with tall, similarly built stems and respond well to the aforementioned whistle.

[crossbackpoke-check]

the work is certainly not in progress, but it is wednesday !!

[quadrakilling]

i will proceed to gush about carmessa

↓↓↓↓

as a kid in a forge world, she was to be forged for a purpose. her psykana awakening only turned up the fires of the forge, as she was molded into a weapon.

the black ship was as a hammer, each blow struck strengthening her blade. her path ahead was a straight line, and becoming a primaris psyker was a goal accomplished by preventing any distortions from the path ahead of her.

yet, normalizing a blade after forging is necessary. it relieves stress, makes the steel more consistent, and the officer in charge of her at the astra militarum could see that.

she brought out the edge in her. as grinding a blade, victoria profiled her, brought out the ruthlessness in her, with the lingering words and touches that left a sanding sensation on both her skin and ego.

but even the memory of the feeling faded away with victoria as she was taken away from her, her passing coalescing on carmessa taking her place. the absurdity (and outright heresy, for some) of the situation sent carmessa under heat from everyone around her, except victoria's superior. it was his sole approval that kept her from being taken out back and shot, as any psyker who had grown too big for their boots would have.

and this treatment only served to harden her edge. her reckless ways became more precise, calculated, giving way to grander strategy as she slowly stopped leading from the front lanes. as she grew accustomed to giving orders, while she didn't lose her ruthlessness, her bloodthirst was slowly sated.

while she was avoided, she was respected in turn, and the people around her were intimidated into following her orders. the tattoos on her skin were proof of her devotion to the god emperor, and this gained her favour with specific officers of the ship who could tolerate her.

yet the aquila on her forehead was not only for the emperor, but for the omnissiah as well, the twin-headed eagle a constant reminder of her dedication. she would never forget where she came from, the noise of machinery and movement of the engines always a calming lullaby for her, compared to what usually graced her ears. it was only her unshaking devotion that kept her sane throughout the years, even as age and exhaustion crept onto her, threatening to erode her edge to bluntness.

most definitely, she could and would never be one of them. a threat, both seen and unseen, feared by most and disdained by the rest. but iron has no consideration for petty pursuits such as those.

[shkika]

Niceeee

I wanna hear more silly facts about W1, but I am curious, how horrifying can it be?

you're actually my inspo for this drawing of the bug [x]

But I'll share the doodle I did before the drawing too!

I think what makes W1 scary is how petty and spiteful it's capable of being. It can hype/rile itself up very easily too.

I've always headcanoned V2 as very spiteful, but too chivalrous and prideful as a machine of peace to commit atrocities. Meanwhile V1 is absolutely rabid, but kills for it's own survival and satisfaction not necessarily to be cruel.

W1 simply combines those traits in the worst way possible. It can be hateful AND brainstorm with itself on all the fun ways to fuck someone over.

[manicpixiefelix]

love the hand that feeds you {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

One-Shot for head, heart, hand. but can be read as a stand-alone.

Summary: Everyone's always called you Felix's Dog. Felix has always had a problem with this. You've always wished that he didn't. Oliver's never been much of a cat person anyways.

Need to Know: They/Them. NB!Reader. Oliver's POV. Set after the Summer at Saltburn but with a happy, poly ending. Established Felix/Reader/Oliver. Reader's AGAB/sex is never made explicitly clear so hopefully all of y'all can enjoy.

Warnings: SMUT. Porn with plot. Pet play, obviously. Demeaning language (dog is the main one, obviously), oral, threesome, unprotected sex, d/s dynamics (all three of you go back and forth but there's mostly Dominant!Oliver), teasing, praise kink (and praise kink by proxy), pet names (ha). Felix & Reader being horny puppies who love Oliver Quick (and each other) very much.

A/N: 9494 words. i told my girlfriend about this fic and how long it is and she said 'at that point is it a oneshot or a cry for help' and idk man it's definitely a cry for something 👀

----

It starts because Felix likes having his hair played with.

Actually, it starts the week before with you, drunk and giggling at a house party, playing with the chain Oliver's always wearing with more fascination than usual, when you admit that Venetia once bought you a collar. Of course you provide the caveat that it was more to piss Felix off, which it had, and that it had been thrown into the fire before you ever got to wear it. Oliver, who'd been watching Felix playing beer pong across the room, has to take a moment to process what you'd said.

"Wish she didn't make it all weird," you sighed a little forlornly, and you give the chain a faint tug, "I'm such a good dog, everyone says so," then you huffed a faint, flustered laugh, "not everyone. Not you and Fi, you guys are lovely, but sometimes I am a bit like a dog; I'm okay with that."

In the next moment you're humming along to whatever trashy pop is playing, and Oliver's pretty sure you've already forgotten what you'd just said, but even in his own state of inebriation, he can't.

The next day, on one of the many lawns across Oxford's beautiful campus, Oliver's sitting with Felix's head in his lap, fingers running through his hair as you and Felix are brainstorming gifts for Venetia's upcoming birthday. Felix has his eyes closed, enjoying the warm afternoon and the sensation of Oliver's gentle petting, while you're splayed out on the grass beside them both, focusing on your notebook.

Yes, you've always been a good dog, but you'd been well trained; the more Oliver thinks about it, the more he finds himself also drawing comparisons between Felix and an excitable, affectionate, pampered pup himself. But there was potential there, Oliver could see it clear as day.

So he'd started to come up with a plan. A simple plan, thankfully; knowing you both it wouldn't require anything too complicated, it wouldn't be particularly manipulative. At least not maliciously.

A simple, two step plan to show the impossibly beautiful, rich, loving heirs how much he loved and appreciated them for all their qualities, especially the dog-like ones, in certain circumstances. Really it's not even his idea; Felix's whole family had drawn the comparison with you before it had even really occurred to him. He couldn't be blamed for being intrigued about following it to its logical end, and showing you both it's not the negative it usually comes across as. At least, that's how he phrases it in his mind when he's justifying it to himself.

And if he thinks you and Felix would both look pretty in a collar, well that's just a perk he keeps to himself.

The first step is submission.

All three of you fluctuated between dominance and submission on any given day, an enthusiastic ebb and flow of control amongst the three of you, in every combination imaginable. Except Felix seems unable to fully commit himself to submitting to Oliver alone; oh he plays along without hesitation, will get on his knees for Oliver at the slightest firm tone, but he always seems more thrilled knowing your hand is on his metaphorical leash.

So Oliver takes his time figuring out what exactly will make Felix long for Oliver's hand on his throat. The solution is shockingly simple.

Praise.

It couldn't be just any praise. He'd lived his life hearing sweet words about how good he looks, or how lovely he was, it had to be deeper than that. Praise only you or Oliver could give, praise that he craved to hear, praise for the parts of himself he quietly put effort into.

Praise for being helpful, for being diligent, for being caring and genuinely thoughtful to the two of you, for being good.

"God, you're so good to me, Felix," Oliver groans in the bathroom of a house party, back pressed against the door while Felix was on his knees, Oliver's cock in his mouth. When Oliver looks down, sees Felix with a faint blush on his cheeks that's far sweeter than the rest of the debauchery of their situation, Oliver cards a hand through his hair, giving him a look that radiated just as much love as he felt for the man himself, "always so fuckin' good to me," he murmurs this time.

Felix, now bright red, all kinds of flustered, pulls back for half a second, unable to fight back a smile as he swears under his breath, but Oliver's hand in his hair tightens. Felix eyes flutter closed as Oliver, tone on his voice like a warning, tells Felix that he didn't say stop.

And Felix seems more than delighted to obey, to be as good to Oliver as he'd just been deemed.

Praise like this always made Felix all smitten and obedient and eager to please. Of course Oliver had always been quick to praise Felix, but this was different, was concentrated and specific. Once Oliver had started with these efforts, Felix seemed to grow more relaxed and eager to let Oliver become dominant over him when the mood struck him, even without the specific praise. Though the praise always helped.

The second step is acceptance.

Considering everything that had happened at Saltburn - the voyeuristic games you'd played with Oliver, the adventurous ways and places in which you and Felix would fuck, the handjob you'd given him after you caught him drinking the bath water that Felix had gotten off into that ended with you also managing to come untouched while Oliver moaned Felix's name in your ear, just to name a few - Oliver knew your sex lives would be more than a little kinky before he even officially joined this relationship. He was not disappointed.

Both you and Felix seemed more than willing to try anything, though Oliver was delighted to discover just how much you'd both already done, and were more than eager to do again.

All this to say that pet play was barely a step removed from roleplay, so he shouldn't have been surprised that you jump at the chance. At first it stays between you and Oliver, for obvious reasons that have everything to do with Felix's hangups about the derogatory way other people had often called you a dog. But when Oliver calls you 'pretty pup' for the first time, you react just the same way Felix does when praised.

Flustered. Bashful. Obedient.

Except Oliver quickly learns that you react far stronger than Felix. It seems not only were you telling the truth about being okay with the title, simply hearing it said so lovingly by Oliver, even in the most innocent situations, was enough to turn you on. It was validation you so desperately wanted, craved, your efforts and constant place by their side acknowledged and appreciated. There are times even when you're in control where you demand praise, and the words slip out.

"You're a good dog," Oliver gasps out, your legs over his shoulders, his head between your thighs. A pleased noises rumbles from somewhere in your chest and you laugh low and heady.

"You're fucking lucky to have a dog like me, Oliver Quick," comes out all lazy and confident, but his nose of agreement isn't enough for you, clearly, as your thighs momentarily tighten around him, trapping him, and he feels one of your heels press insistently against his back, "aren't you lucky," you say pointedly, warning in your voice, "to have such a good dog?" Echoing your words in agreement, they come out sounding like a breathless prayer, one he's eager to chant to see the heady, powerful smile you wear when you hear it.

Fuck he feels dizzy with lust in this moment, desperate to devour you, have his mouth on you, like his life depends on it, hoping you'll grant him the chance to fuck you - there's something about you in control that will always drive Oliver utterly mad. Actually, no matter the situation or who's in control, knowing you and Felix continue to want him, love him, choose him to share these moments with... sometimes he still can't believe he got here in the end.

He never thought he'd hear you beg, let alone for him. It's like fucking music.

When he's got you like this, under him, desperate, eager to please, mind a messy haze caught up in this fantasy being played out with you as his perfect pup - so good, so loyal, fuck you're precious, pet - where he can do or say practically anything to you, where you want him to.

"Fuck I love how pathetic you sound, pet," he mumbled into your ear, pressed against you, thrusting slow and deep, "can't even form a proper thought, can you?" He teases. Your hips stutter up into his in an inconsistent rhythm, desperate. Chiding you for it, he sits back, even as a disappointed mewl escapes you. As if moving out of instinct, you reach out, as if to try and pull him back in, and your fingers catch on the chain he still wears around his neck.

"Drop it," he orders immediately, to which you let go as if the metal had burned you. However, Oliver can feel you clench around his cock, hips rolling, pressing close to him, instinctively, "good dog," he purred, pleased, deciding to reward you by finally fucking you with intent.

So it's not you who still has to come to accept this concept. But Oliver's fairly confident you will be the main reason when Felix does come to accept it. In fact, he doesn't even bring the concept up to Felix himself; he knows you well enough that it will only be a matter of time.

It doesn't take long.

One night at the club, all three of you drunk and feeling indulgent under the lights and haze, you hear a resentful -

"Felix really can't go anywhere without his dog -"

You have to hold Felix back from searching for the girl who said it to start shouting at her, assuring him it's fine, but Oliver then has to drag you both of the dancefloor when you start unexpectedly arguing with each other. He actually genuinely can't pick exactly what the argument is about until he's got you both in one of the marginally quieter side rooms, you and Felix still arguing animatedly -

"- shouldn't even be talking about you like that, they don't even know you -" Felix snapped, while you stepped up into his space, having him in the chest.

"When the fuck have I ever cared what anyone but you thinks of me?!"

"I don't think of you as my dog!"

"How many times do I have to say that I don't mind being called your dog before you figure out that maybe I want you to call me that?!" You glare up at him, watching the confusion and mixed emotions about the idea pass over his face in rapid succession, "I'm getting sick of you taking issue with the title, and refusing to understand why I don't; am I not every fucking thing the perfect dog is to you? I am loyal," with each descriptor you gave an instant push against his chest, as if to punctuate each point, "diligent, protective, you know I'd follow you to hell and back, it makes me happy to make you happy, and yes, Felix, just like a dog, I can be obedient," Felix's gaze is shocked as you lay it all out before him. Your voice lowers, Oliver can barely hear you over the music in the next room, "but unlike a dog, I was not trained to love you, to stick by you like I do; that is a choice I made. That is a choice I continue to make happily every single day of my life. Every other asshole who calls me a dog can see it, most of them are fucking jealous because I am the one you choose to keep by your side. Why would I ever take issue with being called that? What do I have to be jealous of? I am the dog, Felix Catton, and I am yours."

It's... reductive, Oliver thinks, but it has to be to get your point across, so he keeps that to himself. He knows all too well how old this sore spot is between you two, far older than his place in your relationship. Perhaps if things hadn't worked out quite so well for him, or if he weren't so secure in his relationship with you both, perhaps he'd worry, be jealous of how you're speaking once more like you and Felix only have each other. But her knows you're not, knows that you're speaking to the version of Felix who can't let go of his discomfort at the title's implications. Part of Felix would always listen to you above all others, even Oliver, but Oliver himself had in part fallen for the way you two loved each other, he lives seeing that connection still strong, bright and alive, and knowing that you've both still chosen to love him too.

Felix, a few feet away, looks suddenly conflicted, almost upset as he tries to process and reconcile your words. However, when Felix can't seem to give a proper reaction, a look of disappointment crosses over your face, and you turn sharply, stalking from the room, from the club entirely.

"It still feels demeaning to them," Felix has been sulking the entire walk back to campus, he and Oliver having left not too long after you. Oliver bites his tongue on the fact that he knows you get off on being demeaned in the right circumstances; Felix is off course aware of this, but not the true extent. Instead, all Oliver offers is a non-committal hum. Felix pouts, still mostly talking to himself, "'s rude," he mumbled, "'s a mean thing to call someone; dog..." Though it sounds almost like a question.

"So you'd be mad if someone called you Y/N's dog?" Oliver says with a surprising amount of casualness considering he has no idea where his boldness came from. Beside him, Felix goes very quiet. Oliver pointedly doesn't look at him.

"That's different," Felix finally managed after several long, strained moments in which he'd thoroughly considered Oliver's words. Except Felix hasn't managed to sound nearly as casual as Oliver, the poor boy sounds rather abashed at the thought, though he still tries to play it off, albeit unsuccessfully, "Ollie, that's- that's completely different."

"How's it different?" Oliver needles him subtly, still giving Felix a modicum of privacy from his ever watchful eyes.

"Because it is," Felix insists, before blurring out - "because it's never happened!"

When Oliver finally looks over at Felix, he keeps his expression just on the positive side of neutral, only to be met with the sight of Felix, wide eyed, and faintly flush. Oliver blinks.

"But you are," he says easily. Felix's lips press into a thin line, face turning steadily darker with his blush as he finally stops walking. Oliver can read the 'the fuck do you mean by that?' all across Felix's flustered, intoxicated features before the man can even open his mouth to ask, so Oliver stops walking too, elaborating without hesitation, "if we're going by Y/N's metrics for what a good dog is, aren't you one too?"

This conversation was completely unexpected for Oliver too, despite how he was the one who pushed it in this direction. Beautiful, expressive Felix is already growing less tense as he turns the thoughts over in his mind. Oliver, eager to help him along on his path to acceptance, reiterates the values you'd laid out in the club -

"Loyal, diligent, protective," he lists easily, "you know you'd follow them anywhere, and do anything to make them happy," he doesn't have to say that Felix can be obedient to you to know they're both thinking it. Instead, Oliver shrugs, "but you're Felix Catton, of course no-ones going to call you a dog."

"What?" Felix's deliberation finally gives way in the face of confusion.

"Everyone knows Y/N loves you, but they don't want to think about you loving Y/N back."

"But I do," Felix's soft voice sounds so hurt by the very idea, "everyone knows I do." Oliver's own expression softens as he steps forward. Felix's brow creases in what can only be described as disappointed confusion.

"I know," he assures smoothly, "that's other people's problem, its not fair on either of you." Oliver's hand is gentle on Felix's shoulder, but Felix is still clearly bothered, even as they start walking again.

"Maybe that's why it bothered you so much," Oliver finally speaks again when they're back on campus. Felix doesn't speak, but does look to Oliver with an expression of clear confusion, "because you didn't like the idea of people thinking Y/N loved you more than you loved them." After a moment, Felix sighs, making a faint, disappointed hum of agreement.

"Did you think that?" Felix asked softly after a moment, "before you really knew us, is that what you thought of us too?" He sounds almost disappointed at the thought. Oliver, however, has to fight back a smile.

"Not even for a fuckin' second," he admits with a sharp laugh, and Felix immediately perks up with intrigue and something almost like relief, though Oliver's tone is amused as he continues, "I honestly couldn't believe no-one else could see it; never seen anyone quite so dedicated to taking care of their dog as Y/N was to looking out for you."

Felix turns bright red once more, but he's wearing that big, bashful grin Oliver's always loved.

"I am, aren't I?" Felix sounds almost giddy at the thought. Oliver feels like there's fireworks going off in his chest.

"Y/N really can't go anywhere without their dog either," Oliver teases, lovingly parroting the words that had been so cruelly overheard at the club. If Felix were any drunker or happier, he probably would have started actually skipping. As it was, however, the two of them approaching Felix's dorm building, he wraps an arm around Oliver's shoulders.

"You know all that stuff they said, all that stuff about being a good dog, you know that's how we feel about you too, Ollie," Felix can clearly tell the minute Oliver's brain short circuits, because he laughs and plants a kiss on Oliver's cheek, "sorry if you're more of a cat person, mate," he teases, as if he hadn't just suddenly rewired something in his boyfriend's brain.

You and Felix. YouAndFelix. Both love him the way a dog loves their owner. It goes beyond even any lewd fantasies he'd had; a year ago he was watching you both through his window, talking and laughing in the afternoon sun, wishing desperately that he could work up the courage to talk to either of you, befriend you.

But you and Felix - YouAndFelix, together, individually, in every single way Oliver can conceive the idea of you - both love him. Our Ollie, the way he's heard spoken so lovingly, sounds so much sweeter than he'd ever even imagined.

"You're both very sweet to me," Oliver hears himself mumble as he and Felix finally find themselves outside of Felix's door. Everything feels like it's spinning, in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol, and everything to do with the way Felix is smiling at him. Instead of answering, though Oliver's sure there's half a dozen teasing or sappy comments trapped in the tip of Felix's tongue, he kisses him instead. Felix always seemed to know exactly when Oliver was overwhelmed with their shared reality, and always took his time to admire that look in Oliver's eyes. Now was no different.

He's always thought Oliver was so strange, so queer, so different from everyone else in his life, and so clearly loved him for it.

Felix finally is the one to break the moment, knocking lightly on the door, knowing you well enough to anticipate where you'd be despite your earlier anger. As if on cue, you sighed heavily on the other side of the door, before inviting them in.

While Felix barely gives you time to react where you're in your pyjamas, sitting in his bed in the lamp light, not even kicking off his shoes before he throws himself into your lap, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pressed his face against your thigh, Oliver hovers by the door.

"Hi, sorry, hi, love you," escapes Felix in a rush. Despite your conflicted expression, the way your hand comes to rest on his head, carding through his hair is automatic. It's an endearing, amusing sight to Oliver, considering the night that had just passed. He knows you're looking at him, questioning gaze searching for some kind of explanation for Felix's change of behaviour, but Oliver lets himself linger a few moments longer on watching Felix's almost childishly clingy behaviour.

He struggles to kick off his shoes for a moment before he finally managed, and hitch a leg up, over both of yours, still in his jeans and jacket but refusing to be anything but wrapped up in you.

"I'm not staying," is what Oliver finally says, despite the gentle affection in his voice. You frown faintly, but still seem more confused than upset, "I think you two need to talk," he explains. Despite the way your mouth flattens into a thin line, you're still gently petting Felix's hair. Still, Oliver steels himself, giving you a strange little smile, "you're a good dog, Y/N," he says pointedly. This seems to surprise you, but not as much as Felix's sitting echo.

"Such a good dog," he agrees with a fond sigh, half muffled against you. Immediately your confusion, your concern drops in favour of sweet, hopeful shock. But Oliver continues before he shuts the door, smile growing into a grin.

"So are you, Felix," and Felix's head shoots up so he can level a bright, sunny smile over his shoulder at Oliver. Christ, Oliver can practically see his tail wagging.

"Love you, Ollie," Felix beams cheerfully. While Oliver echoes the sentiment back at you both as he closes the door, you can't seem to look away from Felix.

Something warm and pleased and satisfied curls itself comfortably in Oliver's chest on the brief walk back to his own room. It goes beyond any selfish, sexual desires he's had, not that there wasn't an element of that, of course, but he can't stop thinking about the joy in Felix's expression, or the way you'd disbelieving smile you'd been wearing when Oliver had closed the door. An old ache beginning to heal.

The change is subtle at first. At least, from the outside.

After that fateful summer, the three of you had made no secret of your relationship. Felix had always been tactile and clingy and prone to shows of affection, you had always made a point to make Oliver feel included and welcome and like you craved his company, while Oliver himself had never made any secret of whose attention and contact he preferred in any group setting. So he's sure, to their friends, the three of you seem to be the same as you've always been.

Farleigh had once scoffed at the pub that the three of you were insufferably gross, and while the rest of the group at the table had agreed, it had been more teasing than malicious; on one side of Oliver, you'd pressed your laughter into his shoulder, while Felix had throw his arm around Oliver and chided Farleigh not to be jealous, wearing a wide, easy smile.

Oliver and Farleigh still may not exactly see eye to eye, but things had gotten easier between them. Across the table, Farleigh met Oliver's bashful gaze and though he'd rolled his eyes, though he seemed exasperated by all three of you, there was warmth in his eyes. He may not love Oliver, but he still loved you and Felix; baby steps.

So all that to say that at first the change is so subtle that even the ever-watchful Farleigh, who knows you and Felix better than any of your other friends, doesn't even notice.

But oh, Oliver feels the change right away.

He honestly thought the three of you weren't able to get closer, but he's never been more thrilled to be wrong. Never afraid or jealous of each other living your own lives, it just seemed that when you're around each other, you weren't interested in being seen as an individual. More possessive in the most affectionate way. Always in some kind of obvious contact, arguably too close for the comfort of others, not that any of you cared. Oliver, always shadowed by his beautiful guard dogs.

"Can I wear this?" You ask casually one evening, drinking cheap vodka and juice as you waited for Oliver to get ready to go out. When Oliver turns, half dressed after a shower, he sees you holding one of the chains he always found himself wearing. He doesn't think twice before agreeing, doesn't even think much of the request at the time. The significance is missed on him until the two of you meet up with Felix in the line for the club and he pulls you by the chain, in for a kiss. You're still holding Oliver's hand, fingers linked with his. Reading Felix's kiss for the compliment it is, you grin sharply as you pull back, stepping up beside him in line.

"Thanks, it's Ollie's."

"I know," Felix snorts a laugh, throwing an arm around you as he gives Oliver himself a sly smile, "you look good too, mate, how're you going?" You squeeze Oliver's hand, leaning into him for a moment with a coy smile. Your free hand is playing with his chain around your throat. Like you know exactly where his mind has suddenly gone.

Oliver already knows how this night will end, and it doesn't disappoint.

Neither he nor Felix can seem to leave you or the chain around your neck well enough alone, and you're clearly love it. You let yourself be lead around, let them lavish you with affection in dark corners, wearing a smile that's all teeth when you meet the surprised, scandalised gazes of those who gawked rather than averted their gaze.

In the back of the taxi on the way to campus, you're impossibly affectionate, like an excited puppy as you try and split your attention to your boyfriends either side of you.

"Settle down, love," Felix takes your hand in his, keeping you momentarily still, even as you pout.

"We'll be home soon," Oliver murmurs quietly, trying to act casual as he looks out the window, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. A faint, impatient whine escapes you, but you acquiesce, leaning your head on Felix's shoulder even as a fond laugh rumbles from his chest.

The cabbie has the radio on in the front, pointedly ignoring the three of you. But the music is loud enough that he doesn't hear the soft, approving way Felix mutters in your ear -

"Good dog."

But Oliver hears, feels the way your thighs momentarily clench together, hears the breathless, needy 'fucking hell, Fi' that escapes you. His grin grows wider.

On the walk back to your room - always cleaner than Felix's, and with a bigger, nicer bed than Oliver's - you're quiet, seemingly focusing very hard on staying that way, even as Oliver and Felix are bantering easily either side of you. Hands to yourself - well, metaphorically, Oliver and Felix are both holding one of your hands, Felix, feeling particularly joyful swings your linked hands in wide arcs between you - you listen diligently, and chime in whenever you felt your input was needed. Oliver thinks you're being incredibly endearing, but once the door is closed and the rest of the world is cut off from the three of you, Felix softly asks if you're okay.

Surprise lights up across your face the minute the question is spoken. It hadn't even occurred to you that Felix wouldn't understand your behaviour in this moment; this is far newer to him than it is to you. But then you look to Oliver, almost like you're afraid that he wouldn't understand either.

But he does, of course.

There's a faint thrill that courses through him realising that for what is perhaps the first time since he'd met you, he can read you better than Felix. That Felix was yet to understand how far from reluctant or uncomfortable you were in that moment.

Felix had told you to settle, called you a good dog when you had. So now you were trying your hardest to remain settled, to remain good. How delightfully obedient you were in these moments, in this headspace.

Oliver finally gave you a warm smile, shrugging off his jacket.

"They're being good is all," he says casually, drawing Felix's confused attention as you broke out into a wide smile at the praise. Again, Oliver has a flash, a mental image of a tail wagging with joy behind you.

"I'm being good, I'm being settled," you reiterated pointedly, standing carefully by the foot of the bed. Once more, however, you've started fussing with the chain around your neck. Felix looks back to you, as if he still can't quite grasp the full scope of what's happening, and laughs lightly.

"You're so fucking cute," he grinned, "love, you didn't have to stay settled all the way back here."

"I didn't?" Your eyes go wide with confusion, and you look again to Oliver, as if for confirmation, "but I..."

Oliver can feel his heart beating in his throat. Oh, right, he's the one who's done this before, he's the one who started this all, at least this version of this dynamic. You aren't Felix's dog in this moment, you are his.

"You did good, pet, don't worry" Oliver assures you, soothing you with a gentle tone as he steps towards you and takes your face in his hands, kissing you on the forehead. Wearing a grateful little smile, you regard him lovingly for a few moments, before he steps away and you turn your focus back to Felix. There's a hungry kind of intrigue in his big, brown eyes now as he takes the scene in with newfound understanding.

"You really are a good dog," Felix marvels approvingly. Your whole face lights up at that, stumbling a few steps forwards, as if you hadn't meant to move but needed to be close to him. Nodding furiously in agreement, your fingers fidget like you're trying desperately not to reach for him. Felix steps towards you, his smile growing wider as he does so, "mine- ours?" He corrects, wrapping his arms around you, and finally your resolve breaks.

"Both," you assure in a rushed breath before you're pulling him in, kissing him frantically, as all the longing you'd held back since you'd been told to settle floods through you. Once fidgeting hands now start frantically tugging at clothing, both yours and his, but Felix is matching your energy entirely. Oliver gets hit in the face with your jacket as it's flung across the room but neither you nor Felix notices. In his enthusiastic haste several of the buttons on your nice, expensive shirt are ripped off, pinging around the room.

Not that Oliver actually minds.

Still in his jeans, he leans his hip against your desk and watches for a few long moments with both a lewd appreciation, and amusement. Perhaps another day, or when it was just the two of you, Felix would invest himself properly in a version of this fantasy where you truly are his dog. Tonight, however, Oliver sees opportunity in the obvious, messy, needy way Felix is pawing at you. An opportunity for his plan to finally be realised, and he's not letting it pass him by.

When you fall back on the bed, Felix braced over you, your hand finding his fly while the two of you still haven't stopped to really breathe, Oliver sticks two fingers in his mouth to let out a sharp whistle.

Immediately there's silence, the attention of both of you having immediately snapped to Oliver. Shaking his head with faux exasperation, Oliver sighs loudly, as if terribly put upon.

"Can't take you two anywhere," he tsked, crossing his arms over his chest, "pair of naughty fuckin' puppies, you can't leave each other alone."

Felix blinks quickly, as if caught of guard by the shift in tension, the dynamic.

"Ollie, what are you -"

"Ollie, don't be mean, Fi's the best dog, take that back!" You chided despite your wide grin.

"Is he now?" Oliver asks archly, smirking at you both. Felix isn't quite looking at him, expression drawn and thoughtful as he processed this change, turned it over in his mind. Slowly, he looks down at you, at your soft, warm smile. A silent conversation between you both, one of many that Oliver will only ever be able to guess at, and you close your eyes as you sit up enough to press your forehead to Felix's.

Felix visibly relaxed, which you must feel judging by the way you grin.

"It's fun, I promise," your whisper, though in the cool, quiet night, Oliver can still hear it clearly.

"But he called me naughty, I can't believe it," Felix whined playfully, causing you to laugh as the two of you sank back down on the bed. Felix tucked himself up beside you, face half hidden where he was pressing his lips to your shoulder to hide his little smile, "you're so mean to me, Ollie." It sounded as though he was pouting, but his eyes betrayed him, nervous and tentative to be adapting and playing along with the bit, but clearly more than a little excited too. There's also something tearing, almost challenging about the way Felix was running his fingertips up and down the side of your chest.

"You are being naughty," Oliver finally pushes off of the desk, sauntering over to the bed, "both of you acting like I didn't exist."

"Can you blame me?" You actually giggled, sounding downright gleeful, "look at who we get to play with!" Felix flushed at that, pressing his bashful smile against your shoulder. Oliver finds himself really quite taken with how you've chosen to adapt to having Felix by your side in this fantasy.

"If I can't blame you," Oliver says with faint notes of faux warning in his voice as he sits by you both on the bed, "are you saying I should blame Felix? Is our new pet a bad influence." You stumble over your words for moment, searching for a denial, but Felix's head shoots up at that, his eyes wide as he props himself up on the bed beside you.

"Hey, I'm a good influence! I'm good!" He insists, the words coming to him so automatically that it seems to startle even him before he properly focuses back on Oliver's fond amusement. Felix grins sheepishly at his own enthusiasm, ducking his head to look instead at you as he reiterated with a soft giggle, "I'm good."

"I think you're very good," there's love on your tongue, in your eyes as you gaze up at him. Then, in the next moment, you wriggle yourself over to rest your head against Oliver's thighs, gazing up at him with a pout, "come on, Ollie, don't be mean," you practically whined, while Felix himself half draped himself across your middle, his head resting on your belly as he turned his full attention and hopeful brown eyes upon your boyfriend. It was far more convincing than Oliver had been expecting, and he actually feels his hard resolve beginning to falter under the combined force of both your longing gazes.

"We're sorry for neglecting you," you add sweetly, expression earnest as your fingers begin to card through Felix's hair. For a moment, Oliver watches the way Felix's eyes fall closed, leaning into the sensation.

"Can we make it up to you?" Despite Felix's soft voice, his smile was already all kinds of pleased and contented, "we're good at that," he insists. God, Oliver knows all too well that you both are; fucking hell, part of him may never believe this isn't a dream. Except he knows his definitely not dreaming when he feels the delicate touch of your free hand on his knee, moving higher - or as high as you're able given the awkward angle your arm is at.

"Play with us, let us make it up to you," giving Oliver thigh a squeeze you grinned up at him. Without giving him a moment to respond, however, you made a tsk noise in the back of your throat, "you're so overdressed. Fi -" you tap Felix's head gently to get his attention once more, and Felix's eyes open, alight and at attention, "he's so overdressed, don't you think?" Immediately Felix is sitting up, agreeing.

"Think we should help him with that," Felix says frankly, wearing a pleased little grin like he's excited to be helpful. All over-eager and enthusiastic, both you and Felix are suddenly all over Oliver, working together to get him out of his jeans before he can even wonder where he'd lost control of the situation.

Playfully victorious, you're peppering Oliver's face with excited kisses as Felix is kneeling by the bed, tugging the now free jeans down his thighs. Despite the chaos of it all, Oliver's laughing loud and bright, trying his best to get his arms around you to still some of the kinetic love you're showering him with.

"Come on, Ollie," Felix, however, gets caught up halfway through his own job, and presses a kiss to his knee, hands coming to rest, flat and warm on Oliver's thighs, "how'd you expect to get off with those on?" But he sounds so light and joyful; Oliver's heart is fucking singing in this moment.

"Oi, sit," Oliver tries to order between his own laughter and your lips on his every few moments. It takes him another second to claw back some of his composure, "both of you, sit," at least this time you both listen, despite him still radiating breathless amusement.

Felix looks to you for a moment, watches the way you settle yourself, cross-legged and hands in your lap as you fought back a smile, and sits back on his heels, wearing a sheepish grin of his own as he looks back to Oliver. Oliver has to take a moment to compose himself, barely restraining his own laughter, before he kick his pants off from around his ankles. Felix takes the opportunity to then lean in and rest his chin on Oliver's knee, wide, affectionate grin on his face that Oliver practically melts at. He can't help himself -

"Who's a good boy?" He teases Felix, reaching over to scratch at Felix's scalp lightly. Again, Felix eyes close at his nose scrunches with a strange little smile.

"If it's not me I'm actually going to be so upset," he mutters, sounding almost embarrassed by the thought. It takes a moment for his words to sink, and he followed it with a snort of amusement, before all three of you are laughing in the warm privacy of your bedroom, and this moment.

"Of course it's you," Oliver reassures him, coaxing him up onto the bed, shifting to sit back against the headboard with room for you both on either side. Felix looks far less embarrassed and far more pleased now, leaning in when Oliver coaxes him in for a kiss, "my helpful, good boy," Oliver murmurs against his lips, and Felix lets out a breathless, pleased noise as he wraps an arm around Oliver's neck, kissing him back almost desperately. Oliver would always love how Felix was so wonderfully consistent when it came to his praise kink.

Beside him, he can feel you shift on the bed, and in the next moment, your hand is on his thigh. When he and Felix both look to you, breaking their focus on one another, you've settled yourself by Oliver's thighs. Leaning in, you gently nudge at his cock where it's staining against the material of his boxers with your nose, before proceeding to kiss softly up his shaft through the material. Sing when you reach the head, you sit back a little, giving pause as two of your fingers hooked into the elastic of his waistband. Finally met his gaze, looking up at him through your lashes expectantly, want in your eyes that has Oliver's already quick heartrate thundering in his chest.

"Thought I told you to sit," he says wryly. You wet your lips, hips shifting a little.

"I am sitting," you pointed out, which set Felix off, had him pressing his amused chuckle against Oliver's shoulder. You did, however, remain obediently still. Except for the challenging smile that graced your lips, "wanted to make up for ignoring you."

Felix's laughter, however, had died down at that, and the hand that had been around Oliver was now trailing feather-light down his bare chest, past your own, to wrap around Oliver's aching hard cock, still trapped behind a thin layer of cotton.

"Just gotta say the word," Felix murmurs into his ear. His hand begins to slowly work up and down Oliver's cock. Oliver watches you lean down and press a kiss to the soft skin of his belly, by his hip, just above his waistband, while Felix was pressing languid kisses along his jaw.

"Both so good to me," Oliver groaned, gently pushing at Felix's shoulder, though he takes the hint and joins you by Oliver's thighs.

A moment passes between you both, Felix taking your face in his free hand and pulling you in for an intense kiss that only somehow manages to make Oliver even more painfully turned on than he already was. Both still half dressed, you're both practically overflowing with love for each other and Oliver in this moment. The kiss breaks and youre both grinning foreheads pressed together; Oliver's never been truly able to read the exact things that pass between you in these moments of silent communication, but he thinks he sees 'see, I told you this was fun' in the way you smile.

And as much as he adores this moment, he's pretty sure if someone doesn't actually touch his dick soon he's going to die.

"'s there a reason you're keeping me waiting?" Oliver asks archly; Felix's grin grows wider, while you give him a faintly guilty smile, apologising softly before you pull down his boxers. Finally.

Oliver's hips buck the second your fingers wrap around him, leaning down with intent to -

"Hey!" Felix almost sounds indignant that you'd taken his place, a thought which sends a thrill through Oliver. You look up at this, but the minute you're distracted Felix has bent down to run his tongue along the head of Oliver's cock, tasting the precum beading there before he's taking Oliver into his mouth.

"Fi, that's cheating!" You whined, pouting with your free hand braced against Oliver's thigh - "Ollie, Fi's cheating!" You pouted, to which Felix raised his head to defend himself, gleefully and entirely submersed in this roleplay.

"I'm not cheating," he tried to declare, however you dipped down in an attempt to usurp him. Felix, seemingly anticipating this, refuses to move, instead letting you headbutt him, the two of you in a playful stalemate while you attempted to keep up a consistent rhythm with your hand still on Oliver's cock. Tension, with neither of you backing down, breaks only when one of you - though Oliver's genuinely not sure which - seems to realise the reality of the situation, and how close you both are, and suddenly you're aggressively making out.

Not in Oliver's wildest dreams would he ever have imagined that he could have the two of you fighting over who gets the privilege of going down on him. It's going to take all of his willpower if he wants to last much longer. But he needs to last at least a bit longer, needs to take back control, to make sure this plays out well for both of you too.

So Oliver calls your name, and you and Felix break apart. Your eyes are on Oliver, wide eyed and breathing hard.

"No fighting," he chided, and you wet your lips, sitting back a little as Felix takes this as his victory. Oliver coaxes you up to him, part of him sad to lose the feeling of your talented fingers around him, but Felix is more than capable, and more than makes up for it. Oliver wraps an arm around you, his free hand guiding one of yours to Felix's head as it bobbed up and down between Oliver's thighs, "you're going to help him, you can do that, can't you?" His words are gentle, commanding, and even as you still seem to be playing at sulking, you give a small nod. Felix groans appreciatively as your grip tightens on his hair, which Oliver echoes as he feels it himself.

You're beginning to squirm. Good. He's been utterly thrilled by how tonight has been playing out, but Oliver always enjoys when you finally fall into being desperately obedient. He wants to show Felix how good of a dog you really are.

Oliver pulls you in closer, nose to nose, smirking as the playful fight in you was giving way quickly to pure desire.

"Our good boy, isn't he? Our Felix," Oliver's voice is loud enough for you both to hear; Felix moans around his cock, shifting to get a better angle, to take Oliver deeper, as deep as he can. Your breath catches, pupils blown wide. There was something truly, almost sickeningly fascinating about what he could only describe as your Praise-Kink-By-Proxy; you clearly got off to the way Oliver lusted over Felix, that much was made clear that night in the bathtub at Saltburn, and Oliver could see it in your eyes again now.

"Our Felix," you'd mumbled breathlessly, casting your gaze to him as Oliver lazily trialled kisses down your jaw and throat. Felix doesn't stop, your hand on his head still making sure he keeps a consistent rhythm, but he does look up, does meet your lust-filled gaze, does see how your hips and thigh are shifting. Oliver brings your gaze back to him by tugging at his chain around your throat, and it's all you need to kiss him. He doesn't let it go. Sloppy and passionate, he moans Felix's name into your mouth and you whimper desperately at the sound. His hips are rolling, matching Felix's rhythm as his cockhead presses insistently against the back of his throat, and you're panting and whining and unable to find any real relief -

"Did I say you could touch yourself?" Oliver murmured sharply the minute he feels you reaching for the waistband of your own pants with your free hand. You whimpered, and his grip on the chain around your neck grows tighter. Squeezing your eyes closed as you shook your head, traitorous hand moving to dig your fingernails into your thigh, "are you going to settle down for me?" He whispered, lips brushing yours as you squirmed helplessly.

"This is unfair," you moaned, and Oliver's grip around you grew tighter, "Ollie, please -"

"You fucking love when I'm unfair to you," he hissed with an almost cruel smugness as you gasped, hips beginning to roll and rutt against nothing.

"Ollie, don't be mean," Felix raised his head, hand going still on Oliver's desperately twitching cock, an actual note of warning in his voice. Oliver smirks at him, all lazy, arrogant confidence. He maneuvers you, pulls you back from him to let Felix properly see the way your lip is beginning to tremble with how desperate you were for satisfaction or even just a hint of relief. Still, you tried to press yourself against him, even as your back arched wantonly and your thighs pressed together, shifting in search of friction that was still upsetting absent from where you desired it most.

"You think I'm being too mean right now?" Oliver whispered in your ear; unfortunately for you, Oliver knows all too well how much you love this game. After a moment of hesitation, your gaze locked with Felix's. It's as if you're embarrassed to be seen in this state, the way you'd so willingly let Oliver drive you mad with desire. Averting your gaze from Felix's, you swallow hard.

"No," the single word comes out as a sulky kind of whimper.

"And why's that?" Oliver prompted, adding slyly, "you made Felix worry." He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.

"He's -" you tired your head back with a desperate groan as Oliver raked the nails of his free hand up your side, "he's always good to me in the end." You pouted, clearly still thinking it was unfair being denied in the moment.

"You promise?" Felix asks firmly, looking Oliver in the eyes now.

"Promise," Oliver smirks back, whispering against your skin that if you're a good for him, he'll let Felix play with you. The desperate noise that escapes you is incredibly telling, and one Oliver knows all too well as the indication that you were on the edge of being incoherent. Good, he loves getting you to this point, and loves even more the way Felix is looking at you right now.

"You're doing so well, Felix, don't keep them waiting," Oliver insisted. At that you reached out once more, hand coming to rest on Felix's head, petting him gently before he allowed you to guide him back down to Oliver's spit-slicked and waiting cock. Oliver's grip on the chain shifts, the metal loose between his fingers as he carefully, delicately, wraps his hand around your throat. Your pleading expression is so deliciously needy when Oliver pulls you back in against him.

"Good dog," he presses the praise against your trembling lips.

It's like a beautiful symphony, better than any wet dream or fantasy he'd ever had, and he hadn't even fucked either of you yet. He moans Felix's name into your mouth when he finally comes undone, his hand resting on yours atop Felix's hair as he takes it all and swallows every last drop.

"So fucking good, Felix," Oliver's breathing hard as he comes down from the euphoric high he'd just experienced, scratching gently at Felix's scalp as he raised his head, pleased grin on his face. When Felix sits up, out of both of your grips, your hand immediately goes between your thighs, desperate to touch yourself but still fighting the urge, trapping it while still making your intent obvious.

But while Oliver is more than satisfied, you, tucked up against him, are all but a mess as he cradled you close.

"Come on, Ollie," Felix climbs over his legs to be by your side. His smile is warm and fond, and when Felix's hand comes to rest on your hip, your soft, whining noises become more audible, "the poor thing deserves a treat."

Oliver feels the way you shiver and tense with anticipation at Felix's words, nose then bumping insistently against Oliver's jaw, keening noises catching in your throat. You were begging in the only way you have left, now that you'd found yourself deep enough in this headspace.

"Look at him," Oliver murmured, sounding almost proud as you turned your desperate, hopeful gaze upon Felix, "he's even being good to you."

Taking it as a blessing, you're immediately scrambling to your knees by Felix, no longer whining, and clearly overjoyed. One hand pulling him in for a kiss, your other was frantically trying to remove your pants.

"Not ignoring you," Felix insisted to Oliver as you'd broken the kiss if only to pitch yourself back on the bed in an effort to wriggle desperately out of your pants, "just -"

"Settle down," Oliver ordered suddenly, and you suddenly went still, ceasing the way you'd been fighting with your pants around your ankles, "help them, Felix," she sighs with fond exasperation. Of course Felix does, but it's like a switch has flipped; he's back on board, a good dog still, just like you. Once your pants are off, Felix is trailing kisses up your legs, much to your clear glee -

"You puppies are so stupid," Oliver shakes his head, affection in his words, "you're lucky you're cute," but still both of you turn to him with a a sad kind of confusion. Oliver tries not to laugh, he really tries, you're both somehow hot and adorable at the same time, "Felix, you're still wearing pants."

Somehow, this seems to surprise both of you, and again you're up 'I can help, I can help, I can help' radiating enthusiastically from you as you make quick work of finally undoing Felix's fly, as you'd attempted to earlier in the evening. The two of you share soft giggles as Felix's hard cock is freed and his pants are tossed to the side, leaving him standing on the floor at the edge of the bed where you're up on your knees, looking up at him. Like this, he still manages to dwarf you, and Oliver watches with an aroused fascination as this moment plays out.

Felix doesn't speak, it's as if he's matching your energy, understanding your headspace, he's confident and even cocky in a way that Oliver doesn't often see from him. He remembers saying 'if you're good, I'll let Felix play with you' and it seemed some primative part of Felix's mind has taken that to heart as he held tight to the chain around your throat, leaning in with an unmistakable huger in his eyes. It has you practically melting, hands on his hips, not daring to stray further without his approval. He doesn't even kiss you, he holds you at bay with his lips inches from yours and a hand firm on your collar, drinking in your desperation. You begin to whimper again, shifting your weight back and forth, hips rocking in anticipation; Oliver's sure he'll be able to see the marks your nails leave on Felix's hips when you finally let go.

Another silent conversation between you both, but so clear, so loud, so simple Oliver can hear it loud and clear. Felix is telling you, in no uncertain terms, that in this moment you are his, and every part of you agrees. Yet Oliver knows with a smug, self satisfaction, that he with one word you would both be by his side. So he'll let you both have this.

A year ago, he would have paid his entire life savings and then some to get to see you two in a moment like this. Already, he's getting hard again; a familiar, voyeuristic thrill runs through him as he drinks you both in, taking his cock in hand.

Felix barely has to tip his head, letting go of your necklace, before you're moving quickly, a moment vague and indecipherable to anyone else is a clear directive for you to turn. It's a flurry of movement after that, of Felix's hands on you, on your hips to pull you close, your lower back to have you bending, face pressed to the mattress. Your ass in the air, presented to him perfectly, he slides into you, drawing unholy noises from you both after so long spent waiting already that night.

Oliver basks in this moment, can only imagine how good you must feel right now, all tight and warm and completely and utterly desperate to be filled. Felix's groan is its own kind of beautiful, finally finding his voice again as absolutely filthy praise spills from his lips. Hips rocking back to meet each of Felix's slow, deep thrusts, your breathing is shaky amid the low, pleased noises that escape you. Beautiful, a creature of mindless want and desire, you've got one shaking hand between your thighs as the other reaches out, searching blindly for Oliver.

Face pressed into the plush duvet, you link your fingers with Oliver's the moment he reaches out to you. Your grip is tight, and he runs his thumbs in comforting rhythms against your hands, something pleased, loving, and so fucking turned on as Felix was quickly coming to fuck you like an absolute animal. The way you so desperately craved.

"Perfect," Felix moaned, "god you're so fucking perfect for us, pet, aren't you?" Nodding weakly, as much as your able, you clutch at Oliver's hand; his teasing had clearly already worked you up, brought you close. Both of you.

"Our good dog," Oliver murmurs, just to hear you whimper.

Fuck, he can't wait to watch you come undone.

Can't wait to make you both sit, roll over, beg.

[ninani06]

— How about you imagine me as your bride?

[ Isara Mao x f!reader ]

♡ Tags: Fluff, casual romance.

____________________________________________

"What does it feel like… to be married to someone?"

That question had been lingering in Isara Mao's mind all day, clinging to the edges of his thoughts like a song stuck on repeat.

It wasn’t like him to daydream during like this, but today was different. He had just been assigned to a new event a wedding-themed one, of all things. It was the first time he’d been given that kind of concept, and although he tried to approach it like any other assignment, the theme felt oddly personal.

So here he was, siting on the floor, arms crossed, his expression caught between curiosity and unease.

Earlier that afternoon, he had run into Midori by chance on the street. The two of them had decided to catch up for a bit when their attention was drawn to a familiar scene inside a nearby store. Through the glass, they spotted you talking and laughing with Anzu.

That should’ve been normal. Comforting, even.

But what made Mao stop in his tracks was the sight of the magazine you held. A wedding magazine.

Midori noticed it too and blinked in surprise, nudging Mao with a confused look. But Mao didn’t respond. His eyes were locked on you, your fingers flipping through pages filled with white dresses, soft pastels, and delicate flower arrangements.

You always liked romantic videos, he knew that. Sometimes you’d send him clips of wedding dances or dreamy ceremony edits. But something about seeing you actually holding that magazine stirred something in him.

Confusion. Discomfort. Maybe even a little fear.

Was it just casual curiosity? Or… were you imagining a future? One that might not include him?

He knew you were his girlfriend. And that fact alone brought him more joy than he could ever put into words.

But even so… sometimes doubts crept in.

Do I deserve you? Have I done enough? Am I loving you the way you truly deserve?

Mao Isara, the student council president, the ever-confident idol on stage was quietly, deeply afraid. Afraid of the possibility that one day you might slip away. That you might wake up and realize he wasn’t enough. It was a fear that lingered in the quiet moments, when he wasn’t wearing the mask of leadership or the smile of an idol.

How ironic, really. That someone like him, used to applause and attention, could still feel so unsure when it came to love.

Then came today.

Out of curiosity - no, let’s be honest, insecurity, he and Midori had somehow ‘accidentally’ dragged Leo into a little mission: to ask you and Anzu if… if there was any truth to what they'd seen.

Were you really thinking about getting married?

The question had tumbled out, awkward and too blunt, as Leo, obliviously loud as ever, posed it with all the grace of a marching band.

You and Anzu stared back in complete confusion.

And that’s when Mao saw it, the realization on your face, the raised brows, the puzzled glance you shared with Anzu, and the slow dawn of truth in his heart.

He’d been fooled.

Eichi. Of course. It had been a setup. Probably a test of character or just one of Eichi’s twisted sense of humor. And Mao had walked right into it.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or bury his face in his hands.

The rest of the day, he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes. Not when his face burned with embarrassment, not when his heart thudded from the echo of his own fears.

Now, surrounded by his fellow groupmates in the studio, Mao sat among them. blushing, flustered, and far too distracted to focus. They were supposed to be brainstorming proposal ideas for the upcoming wedding-themed event, but his thoughts kept drifting elsewhere.

He let out a soft sigh, his gaze lifting to the ceiling above.

Marriage, huh…?

It was more than just romance. Marriage was a promise, a commitment to spend the rest of your life with someone. A stage far beyond dating deeper, heavier, yet beautiful.

But the more he thought about it, the more uncertain he felt.

He had so much on his plate, idol duties, club responsibilities, student council work. The future ahead felt like a maze of challenges, unpredictable and relentless. He didn’t even know how much time he'd be able to spend with you in the long run.

That thought stung the most.

Another sigh escaped him as he lowered his head, burying his face into his knees.

A wedding… He pictured it clearly in his mind. You, in a stunning white gown, radiating elegance. A delicate veil draped over your beautiful hair, a bouquet in your hands. Everything about the image was breathtaking.

Everything… except for the man standing beside you.

Because it wasn’t him.

His heart clenched.

Wait! what the hell was that thought?!

Mao jolted upright and shook his head in disbelief, trying to erase the vision from his mind. Just then, Midori called out to him, snapping him back to reality.

Right… they were supposed to be working on the proposal idea, something Naru had suggested as a unique way to make the event more memorable.

In the end, the shuffle unit agreed to take on the challenge. They would each create a personal proposal to be featured in the promotional video… and eventually turn it into a heartfelt performance through song.

He thank god that this discusion is finally over. But what make him headache that he need to make his own proposal. That's the hardest part.

Now he's sit on the couch in his house. Hand crossing as he watch some proposal scene to get some idea.

Without him noticing, you quietly placed a cup of tea on the table before settling down beside him on the couch. It was a rare sight seeing Mao this absorbed in something, especially a topic like marriage. His eyes were fixed on the television, where a romantic drama played softly, no doubt looking for inspiration.

You watched him for a moment, amused by how serious he looked. He hadn’t even noticed your presence.

With a soft smile, you leaned in and gently hugged his arm, resting your head on his shoulder.

The sudden touch made him jolt in surprise but the moment he saw it was you, his tense expression eased. He gave a small sigh of relief, allowing himself to relax into your warmth.

You looked up at him, voice gentle. “Something’s on your mind, isn’t it?” you asked. “Is it that proposal assignment you’ve been worrying about?”

Hearing your question, Mao let out a groan and immediately buried his face in both hands, clearly overwhelmed. You released his arm and let out a soft chuckle, your eyes drifting to the small mountain of wedding magazines scattered across the table. It was clear—your boyfriend had been pouring over every detail, trying to craft the perfect proposal for the upcoming promotional video.

“Why is proposing so hard…?” he muttered, voice muffled through his hands.

You blinked, tilting your head in amusement. “Hmm? I thought you were good at confessions?”

At your words, Mao visibly froze. His face turned a shade deeper than his usual red-violet hair, and even the tips of his ears were flushed. You could hardly hold back your laugh, it was adorable seeing him this flustered.

“…This time it’s different…” he mumbled almost inaudibly.

“Oh? But I still remember how smooth you were with your first confession,” you teased, leaning a bit closer. “Something like—‘You’re the one who always—’”

Before you could finish, his hand gently covered your mouth, his expression a mix of horror and embarrassment as he shot you a pleading look.

“Don’t you dare say another word,” he whispered, voice tight but his lips tugging into a sheepish smile.

You giggled softly against his palm, mischief dancing in your eyes. Mao sighed in quiet defeat, then let his hands fall as he leaned into you, resting his head gently on your shoulder. His arms wrapped around you, holding you a little tighter, as if trying to ground himself.

You turned your head slightly to meet his gaze. His green eyes, usually calm and composed, now shimmered with a mix of affection and vulnerability. Curious, you tilted your head, voice light with teasing.

“Hmm... How about you imagine me as your bride?”

The words had barely left your lips when Mao jolted upright as if struck by lightning.

“W-What?!” he stammered, voice high with panic. His entire face turned crimson, and even his ears glowed red. You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at his reaction, clutching your chest dramatically. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack, you know!”

Mao groaned and buried his face in his hands again. “You can’t just say stuff like that out of nowhere... I’ll take it seriously.”

Because that’s who Mao is he kind of guy who doesn’t just brush off those words. The kind of guy who’d treat the idea of you in a wedding dress not as a joke, but as a vision of a future he quietly dreams of.

You shake your head as you can't help at he easily get red face, you grab his hand as you interwined with him "Relax, just think this is a practice."

Practice... as you said, Mao think as he laugh sheepishly, he can't help think again the scenery you with someone else. He can't talk about it with you. He frown at that idea.

You gently took his hand in both of yours, your touch warm and steady. Then, with tender care, you cupped his cheek and guided his gaze to meet yours.

“Mao,” you began softly, your voice calm but firm with meaning “A proposal isn’t just about making someone happy. It’s more than a grand gesture.”

He blinked, watching you with those vivid green eyes, so open and unsure.

“A proposal...” you continued, “...is a promise. It’s the result of everything you've been through together… and the beginning of everything you’re still willing to face together. It’s telling the person you love that no matter how uncertain the future is, you want them in it.”

Mao’s eyes widened slightly, his breath catching. Your words struck something deep within him, something he hadn’t been able to put into words himself.

You smiled softly “It’s not about perfection. It’s about sincerity.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Mao just stared at you, the storm in his chest quieting with every second, your words anchoring him softening the doubt, replacing it with something steady. Something certain. Something real.

Then, as the silence lingered, a faint blush crept up your cheeks. You looked away, flustered “Ehem… I-I kinda embarrassed myself saying all that out loud,” you mumbled.

Mao blinked once, then twice, before a soft laugh escaped him “No, not at all. That was… just like you,” he said, a fond glint in his eyes. “Exactly what I needed to hear from the girl who always reads those cheesy romance stories.”

You let out a dramatic gasp and gave him a playful punch on the arm. “Hey! I take pride in those stories, thank you very much.”

He chuckled, rubbing his arm with exaggerated pain before reaching out to take your hand again. “But really…” he said, voice lower now, more sincere. “Thank you, Y/n.”

His gaze lingered on yours gentle, warm, and full of something unspoken yet unmistakably clear.

In that moment, it was more than just gratitude in his eyes.

It was love.

●・○・●・○・●

Mao sighed tiredly as he finally wrapped up the filming for his proposal video. The process had gone smoother than he expected, and a small sense of relief settled in his chest.

He glanced down at the outfit he wore today, a crisp white suit adorned with gold and black accents. Elegant embroidery curled along one side of the jacket like ivy, and fine gold chains draped neatly at his waist. Everything about it screamed formality and charm, fitting for the wedding-themed event… and strangely, it made his heart beat just a little faster.

“…Kinda looks like I’m actually getting married,” he muttered under his breath, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

The red-violet haired boy jolted slightly at the sudden cool sensation on his cheek. He turned his head, only to see you beside him, pressing a chilled water bottle against his skin.

“Good work out there, Mao,” you said with a warm smile, handing him the bottle as you took a seat next to him.

He laughed sheepishly and gave a small nod. “Thanks. Honestly, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

You grinned, your eyes sparkling. “Looks like my advice actually worked, huh?” You clapped your hands softly in delight.

Mao chuckled, watching your playful expression. It was moments like this that reminded him, no matter how serious you were as a producer, you still had a childish charm that melted his heart.

His thoughts wandered back to the shoot. Holding the bouquet under the wide, open sky, dressed in the elegant suit... it felt like more than just acting. In that moment, with the gentle breeze and the quiet hum of the world around him, he didn’t think about the cameras.

He only looked at you.

And now, just sitting beside you, he pictured it again this time, you standing in a white, beautiful wedding dress. The image made his heart ache, soft and full.

Ah... how beautiful it would be.

“By the way...” Your voice gently pulled Mao back to reality. He blinked and turned to you, a soft hum of curiosity in his throat.

“I didn’t know you had such a talent for making proposals so romantic,” you teased, your smile playful. Mao chuckled, brushing a hand through his hair. “Oh? Sounds like my teacher approves of my performance.”

You nodded with mock seriousness. “It felt like... a real proposal.”

That made him pause.

Then, without a word, he gently took your hand. The sudden tenderness caught you off guard, your smile faltering as you looked at him in confusion.

“What if I told you...” he began, voice low, eyes steady on yours, “...that proposal was meant for you?” You blinked. “Wait, what—?”

Before you could finish, Mao moved. He bowed slightly, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your ring finger. His voice trembled with quiet emotion as he spoke.

"Since I met you, before I even realize it, I've been surronded by overflowing happiness...

If I hadn't met you, I would missed all these precious moments I'd cherished for the rest of my life."

He paused, then looked up, his green eyes filled with sincerity.

"At this moment, I really wish I could say something cool, like "Rest assured and take my hand.

But I'm the one who get supported all the time. I'm still not qualified enought to say something like that. It's so overreaching.

So... I hope we can keep walking down this road before us, hand in hand. Let's walk together into our future. Side by side, step by step."

His voice softened, his tone almost a whisper. "Even if we have to go seperate ways at some moments, that doesn't matter. We will hold each other's hand, right?

No matter how many times it may takes, I will take your hands again and again so that we don't lose each other. Let's walk toward to the future forever.

So... what I mean is...

I love you...

So please! Allow me to share the rest of my life with you."

You stood frozen, stunned and unsure of what to say. Your heart screamed that you loved him too but reality pulled you back. After all… you were both still in school. It felt too soon, too big, even though your feelings were real.

Mao noticed the hesitation in your eyes. The flicker of confusion. And he understood.

He gently rose to his feet, grabbing the bouquet resting on the chair beside him. Then, with quiet affection, he stepped closer and leaned in his forehead softly resting against yours.

“Don’t worry about answering right now,” he whispered, his voice warm. “Just think of it as… practice.”

He smiled, the same gentle, reassuring smile that always made your heart flutter.

Then, he placed the bouquet in your hands, wrapping your fingers around the stems with his.

“I promise I’ll give you an even better proposal one day.” he said softly, his thumb brushing against your knuckles.

Before you could reply, he leaned in, pressing a brief, tender kiss to your lips just enough to leave your heart racing. Then, without another word, he turned and walked back toward his team, waving casually over his shoulder.

You were left sitting there, flushed and flustered, your face buried behind the bouquet in a desperate attempt to hide your burning cheeks.

Ugh… he’s absolutely the king of charm. How unfair.

____________________________________________

[creation-help]

Hii! I've been on ur blog for a bit and all the writing advice is super duper helpful

I'm sort of having trouble with starting basically anything w writing right now. I'm a beginner, I feel like i really want to make something but at this point I'm sort of stumped 😭 I'm not sure how to come up with real ideas or how I should even start.

I want to get good at writing. I can draw but most of the time I don't really know what I want to cmake if that makes sense

Do you have advice for this? My apologies if you've already answered an ask like this before lol I don't mean to bother, I hope your having an amazing day <333

Hi! I understand this is a difficult situation but from the looks of It, I think your trouble is the mind jail you're in currently. We see it repeated on Tumblr often "Do it bad, do it imperfect, just do it", and I'd like to fully stand by that advice here when talking to you!

Struggles with starting

Really there's no easier way to say this, but you have to Just Start. However there are multiple ways to help you Just start!

- Have something to write with easily on hand at all times, you never know when the idea strikes! This can be phone or even a notepad!

- When the idea strikes GET IT. Pounce on it like a jaguar. Get itttt. If you don't feel like expanding on it, then leave it, but you need to start treating all possible ideas that you vibe with, as potential sprouts to grow! If you spend too much time second guessing or debating over if the idea is good enough or not, you Won't Write More. If the idea sucks, you don't have to commit! But don't let the ideas pass you by! If you get an idea catch it, write it down, find expansive questions to grow it with, get music, brainstorm, vibe, rest, repeat! You are always allowed to start and stop. You are the god of your writing.

- It is okay to suck. You don't have to be good to share, but you also don't even have to share if you don't want! You don't have to share anything to anyone!

Struggles with ideas

- Find inspiration. Where? Anywhere! Start new shows, new movies, read other people's writing, look at flowers on the sidewalk, ask your parents dumb Fandom questions, get into a new music genre. You don't have to follow through with everything but so long as you surround yourself with variety, you will be nurturing your creativity! Just get a steady flow of new stuff to enrich your brain. This is part of the soil your sprouts will need.

- Make mind maps, Google every little detail you can think of relating to your new idea when you have it (not so much you'd exhaust yourself tho!), interrogate yourself, ask people to ask you questions about your idea, go down pointless meanders and rabbitholes about the idea. Give it time to soak. Indulge it. Be a little pretentious over it even.

- Nothing is original anymore, and every different interpretation is valuable enough to exist. What you make is unique to yourself. These ideas all coexist

Struggles with skills

- I am going to say this very gently but firmly. You will get better by doing more. You will hone your skills by using them.

- There's loads of resources both online and irl to search from if you want to improve your writing! You can even try to imitate styles that you like and start moving from there. Kinda like how artists do Studies. You can also expand your vocabulary by searching up different words for things you already know, or words relating to the things you wanna write. It'll help lots! My personal recommendation for improving writing even a little bit is to be conscious of your word choices and make sure you don't overuse the same word too much, at least not in the same sentence. Unless that's the intended effect you're going for

As a closing statement I also wanna add that you should just take care of yourself in general. Sometimes your brain needs more enrichment to work better, or sometimes it just doesn't really give you much just because. Try not to get torn up over it and try again later.

Hope any of this helps! Be brave!

[tyrantisterror]

An Incomplete List of Supervillain Archetypes

Ok, so my first attempt to brainstorm some supervillain prompts was derailed in a very perplexing way, but I am undeterred! Let's try this again in a way that's honestly a bit more fitting with my usual process - namely, by looking at the genre in question ans figuring out what archetypes are there, as well as what kind of... well, the words "theme" ad "motif" seemed to confuse people last time, so let's use the word "flavor" here for. So yes, a list of archetypes and flavors.

An incomplete list, as you no doubt noticed from the title here, because 1. while I've consumed a fair amount of superhero media, I'm by no means an expert and 2. I'm purposely leaving out archetypes and motifs that are dependent on a pre-established hero. That means no Mirror Universe counterparts, evil doppelgangers, guys with the same powers as the hero but they're evil, evil living versions of the hero's costume, etc. This is a list to make a rogue's gallery that isn't necessarily based around a particular hero - rogues for the sake of having rogues, rather than to further one good guy's narrative. We're not trying to make Morlun the interdimensional vampire who only eats Spider-Men here.

And since this is an incomplete list, I am officially inviting you, the person reading this, to point out anything big you think I missed! Just don't start listing college majors, ok? I already have another post about supervillain archetypes that's gathering a list of college majors. Inexplicably.

Supervillain Archetypes

Ok, we're gonna start with a list of, like, personality and story roles supervillains tend to come in. The Archetypes, if you will.

The Bank Robber with a Gimmick - the Silver Age classic. You rob banks and do other naughty but not-necessarily lethal crimes, but more than that, you do it with a gimmick, and goddamn are you devoted to committing to the bit. The bit is more important than the crimes - in fact, the crimes are really just a means to make everyone pay attention to your gimmick.

The Evil Genius - you are extremely book smart and are making it everyone's problem. Again, no need to suggest what degree the mad scientist has, I have a whole post where people are inexplicably doing that already!

The Big Monstrous Guy - you're a big guy with some sort of hideous deformity/mutation that makes you look like a monster. It may also make you act like a monster, although it's just as likely you only act that way because everyone treated you as a monster first. You are often reduced to being the dumb muscle in a given scene, but might get moments of pathos that show how hard it is to be a big monster guy.

The Wildcard - you're an agent of chaos who doesn't really have a plan/goal beyond making everything escalate as quickly as possible, and that's why we love you. In-universe, though, almost everybody thinks you're very annoying.

The Copycat - your villainy hinges on imitation. You are adept at stealing other people's identities, disguising yourself as someone else, and/or even taking the super powers of another person outright. Ultimately, the threat you pose isn't inherent to you - it's something your victims brought to the table.

A Normal Businessman - you view all people and things as nothing more than resources to exploit in your pursuit of wealth and power. Love for anyone but yourself is a weakness to be exploited, and all other living beings are only worth whatever labor you can extract from them as quickly and cruelly as possible, and should be discarded ruthlessly and without mercy when they no longer provide you that utility. In the real world you'd be treated like royalty, but since this is a fictional world, you actually face... resistance? Somehow? As if someone wants people like you to actually face consequences. How unnatural.

The Foreign Tyrant - you rule some made-up country, planet, or plane of existence that doesn't exist in the real world and thus can be as comically awful and dystopian as the writer desires. Everything that's wrong with your foreign home is more or less your fault, because you rule it with an iron fist. You tend to be pretty theatrical about it, too.

The Mind Taker - you're a villain whose main scheme involves some form of mind control, brainwashing, or other methods of forcibly recruiting innocent people into serving you. You're often a seductive figure, and always a manipulative one.

The Mind Fucker - you screw with people's perception of reality in order to enact your schemes. Maybe you send their feelings into overdrive, maybe you dazzle their senses with magnificent illusions, but ultimately you make it that anyone who wants to oppose you has to fight their own mind in the process.

The Jekyll and Hyde - you're not a bad guy, really! But, well... sometimes a part of you takes over, something you bury deep inside, something you really want to keep caged inside you. And when that "other guy" comes out, well... they're pretty bad, actually.

The Anything But Retail - you approach super-villainy the way you would any other job. You're not here for the love of the game or because you're theatrical - this is just the only thing that pays the bills that you can see yourself doing.

The All-Time Hater - you are, quite literally, a hateful person, and by gum you are going to make everyone know it! None of your schemes serve any goal except making people you hate suffer - your only ambition is to make life worse for others.

The Super Mafia - you walked straight out of a gangster movie and into a Saturday morning cartoon, and somehow that transition wasn't nearly as difficult as it should have been. Time to make these costumed fucks sleep with the fishes, even if all your goons now carry harmless laser guns instead of actual pistols.

The Planet Eater - you are a villain whose threat is so great that you threaten the very narrative itself with destruction by way of raising the stakes so high that nothing will ever have any meaning ever again. If the writers aren't up to snuff, you will make everything that occurs after you feel like either an anticlimax, or a pathetic attempt to raise the stakes to an even more inconceivably high level. If you threaten to kill the planet, the next bad guy will threaten the universe. If you threaten the universe, then they'll threaten the multiverse. If you threaten that, then by god, I don't know how we'll raise the stakes from there, but a hack writer will definitely try. A good writer can avoid that terrible fate, but unfortunately you're far more popular with bad writers than good ones.

Supervillain Flavors

These are more surface-level ways to categorize supervillains, mostly concerned with, like, their aesthetic - i.e. the theme of their costume, weapons, lair, etc.

Clown (note to self: don't even try it. You'll never escape Harley Quinn's shadow. It's a fool's errand.)

Reptile

Spider

Insect

Shark

Other "scary" animals

Obscure Animal the writer got obsessed with and decided to theme a bad guy around

Cat-themed Cat Burglar (note to self: don't do this one either. We already have a good one with Catwoman and then also a less good one with Black Cat, who's just Catwoman but at Marvel. There

Space alien

Robot

Cyborg

Mutant (radioactive)

Mutant (toxic waste/pollution)

Mutant (genetically engineered)

Mutant (setting specific source of mutation)

A classic Gothic Horror monster but now they wear superhero tights. Werewolves, vampires, ghosts, etc.

Literally Satan

Satan but we're too cowardly to fully embrace that he's Satan so we're gonna, like, try to have plausible deniability and claim our Satan isn't literally Satan (but he's more or less Satan)

Wizard (fake)

Wizard (real)

Knight

Witch

Fantastical Monster (dragon, gorgon, etc.)

Adapted from/inspired by real world mythology

A god in an old world mythology sort of way

A god but in a cool 60's cosmic way

Anthropomorphic Personification of Abstract Concept

A normal businessman

Elemental Powers (Fire, Water, Wind, Earth, Ice, Lightning, etc.)

Shapeshifter

Power Stealer

90's Extreme Radical Wanton Gun Violence

90's Extreme Radical Body Horror

Ninja

Caricature of Obnoxious Media Trend (shock jocks, reality TV, celebrity culture, etc.)

Alright, that's what I've got off the top of my head. What'd I miss?

[adviceformefromme]

💖 WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR??  - 66 DAYS UNTIL 2025 - GLOW UP SERIES [WEEK 9] - 💖

We are officially 66 days till 2025. It’s creeping in fast, and the new-year, new-you work begins TODAY. You read correct. You don’t wait till 2025 to start showing up as your most ELEVATED, radiant-glowing-self, as someone with goals, purpose, dreams and visions. Someone who is actually putting in the work, no. You start that shit from today, and if you’ve been following the glow-up series it actually started last month. 

So what do you need to do/ know in order to elevate pre-2025. 

If you haven’t already you need to be clear on your TOP LEVEL GOAL. This is that one dream that would make you so happy, the main focus in your life. If it't not clear, or you have too many focus areas, you can brainstorm all your goals and then circle the top three that would mean the most. 

Next you want to break those goals down and figure out which one is going to change your life. For example, if your goals consisted of new car, earn x-amount, meet the love of your life, launch business, go back to college. If meeting the love of your life was the one thing on the list you wanted above everything else this becomes your focus. You need to break down what is blocking you from achieving this goal, what you need to do daily to bring this vision to life, and get really clear on how you want to feel. 

NOTHING COMES ABOVE YOUR PRIMARY GOAL. That means this is where your energy goes. You’re not clutching on to your goal desperate, you are in the mode of preparation and alignment to RECEIVE what it is you desire. 

Let’s break this down further... Your three focus points of your primary goal you need to be clear of TODAY (make sure your journal is with you taking notes right now). 

1] What has/ continues to block you (for example, you’re single keep attracting unavailable men - the root is lack of self worth/ unhealed traumas). You want to get into the nitty gritty of why you are not where you want to be. Get to the root. 

2] Get clear on exactly how you would feel if your top level goal was your reality. You can start with another brainstorm. And from this, you want to create affirmations, using I feel, I am, I decide, I am choosing and you want to record yourself on your phone on a rampage. You need to listen to this daily, getting your energy into the feelings of your desire. 

3] Daily actions. This is your tangible action plan. You’re in your masculine energy making moves in order to move forward. Example, you’re booked in for therapy sessions to finally heal your childhood trauma, you’ve committed to reading two books on the subject before the end of the year, and this week you are going to the book store to pick the first book and start reading 15 pages per day before bed, you are making an effort each day, looking and feeling your best EXPECTING to cross paths with love of your life,  you’re committing to one podcast episode per day on unpacking and understanding your relationship blocks as you go on your daily 10k hot girl walk…

Do you get the jist of what you need to be doing? You need an ACTION PLAN. You would never get in an uber without a destination, so why are you living your life without a clear plan? The GPS is your route, there may be twist and turns along the way, maybe some detours, but ultimately you KNOW where you are going and you have a plan. This is what this work is about. 

Today is the perfect time to take action. No more sleeping on your dreams. No more waiting for tomorrow. Make your plan, follow the steps above, and watch and see how wholesome you feel each day because you are actually investing in you. You’re not chasing anyone, your not following the crowd, you are putting you first and foremost. Remember the work you do today, creates the life you are wishing and waiting for come 2025. 

[chaos-chloe]

Epic April Fools

Summary: As the screen flickered with the ever-so-satisfying sight of paint slowly drying, you found yourself imagining a world beyond the confines of Smii7y’s April Fools’ Day masterpiece.

TW: Established relationship

"I watched Paint Dry"

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, but your mind began to wander while you both sat on the couch, the sound of his voice narrating the mundane process filling the air.

“I swear, next year, I’m going to pull off the biggest prank ever,” Smii7y chuckled, adjusting his headset, his eyes still glued to the screen. His excitement was palpable, and even though you found the concept amusing, three hours of watching paint dry had started to wear thin on your patience. 

“Is it too soon to talk about dinner?” you asked playfully, nudging him with your elbow. 

“Dinner? But the paint is just about to reach its peak gloss!” he replied dramatically, feigning betrayal. But you could see the corner of his mouth twitching with a smile—he loved how easy it was to playfully poke fun at each other.

As you got up to refill your glass of water, you thought about meals for the week. Meal prepping had been something you both talked about doing—after all, weeknight dinners could get chaotic with his streaming schedule and your own commitments.

“Okay, how about we make a deal?” you suggested, returning with a glass of ice-cold water. “If I help you with the video for the next prank, you promise to meal prep with me tomorrow.”

“Perfect! I can’t turn down an offer like that,” he replied, eyes sparkling with mischief. “But you have to promise to be just as creative with our meal options as I am with my jokes.”

“Deal!” you grinned, knowing exactly where this was heading. You would challenge one another to create funny meal names based on the absurdity he thrived on. “How about… ‘Steam-Powered Veggies’ for our stir fry?”

Smii7y burst into laughter, nodding enthusiastically. “And I’ll make sure my signature ‘Mystery Meat’ is on the menu, because what’s a prank without a little surprise, right?”

The banter transitioned seamlessly back to the video as the paint-stirring narration went on, but there was that subtle undertone of excitement brewing between you both over the meal prepping idea. 

Three hours into the video, with a few comments suggested hilariously, you decided you could best support him from afar. You snuck your phone out and started messaging your favorite food blogs, searching for witty meal inspiration to bring to life in your own prep session. 

After a while, you turned to him again. “Okay, I’ll leave you to your paint-drying magic for a while. I have some meal ideas to brainstorm, and I’ll check in on your progress later on.”

“Fine, but don’t blame me when you miss the most exciting part!” he teased, waving his arms as you walked towards the kitchen.

As you flipped through ideas, envisioning a week filled with laughter—and pranks over dinner—you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself. Smii7y always found ways to make the mundane hilarious, and together, you’d craft a series of meals worthy of a viral video in their own right.

Later that evening, as you wrapped up your brainstorming, you made your way back to him, ready for whatever absurd ideas he had pulled from his six hours of paint drying. 

Together, the two of you began strategizing your prank-filled meal plan, transforming the evening into laughter, creativity, and, who knows, perhaps an April Fools’ Meal Prep Challenge to share with his audience!

[airasora]

My (non)Disney cast choices for Love And Deepspace

This is my personal casting choice for the Love & Deepspace love interests as (non)Disney men! My choices are based on 80% personality and 20% ✨vibes✨ NOT looks, just so we're clear lol.

Thank you to @crys-sp, who, as usual, helped me brainstorm these choices and allows me to spam her with Love & Deepspace stuff. I started playing less than a week ago, but I am very much obsessed 😍

I have just a few things I'll say about each casting choice, but if anyone wants me to dive deeper into my reasoning for my casting choices, feel free to send an ask! But, FYI, if your ask is simply you whining that you dislike my choices, all I can do is tell you to make your own casting list. I'd love to see other casting choices 😽

Christopher as Xavier

I chose to cast Prince Charming as Xavier because both characters share key traits of charm and leadership. Christopher is often portrayed as diplomatic and gracious, qualities that align closely with Xavier’s role as a mediator and a leader. Additionally, Christopher's ability to connect with others through his calm demeanor and approachable nature mirrors Xavier’s empathetic approach to his crew and situations.

Also, both are cinnamon buns lol.

Shang as Zayne

I chose to cast Shang as Zayne because both characters embody discipline and strong leadership. Shang is known for his strategic mind and exceptional combat skills, which aligns with Zayne’s role as a tactical leader in the series. Both characters exhibit a deep sense of duty and responsibility, taking their roles seriously and often pushing themselves and their teams to excel. Shang's development from a rigid leader to one who values his comrades' unique traits mirrors Zayne’s journey of growth and adaptation in space missions.

And they are both kind of stoic and only truly soften around their partners.

Dimitri as Rafayel

I chose to cast Dimitri as Rafayel because both characters share a cunning and resourceful nature. Dimitri is known for his cleverness and ability to think on his feet, qualities that Rafayel utilizes as he navigates the complexities of space exploration and diplomacy. Both are also charming and skilled in persuasion, traits that help them in unexpected and challenging situations. Dimitri's journey from a schemer to a hero who values honesty and integrity parallels Rafayel’s development from a lone operator to a committed team player.

Both are also playful and flirtatious and clearly enjoy annoying their partners while also having the audacity to get almost offended when their partners tease them back.

Thrax as Sylus

I chose to cast Thrax as Sylus because both characters exude a menacing and formidable presence. Thrax, as a villain, is characterized by his lethal efficiency and charisma, traits that echo Sylus's own formidable and strategic nature. Both characters are driven by a deep-seated determination to achieve their goals, often displaying a ruthless streak when faced with obstacles. Thrax’s cool and calculated approach to his objectives mirrors Sylus’s tactical and sometimes cold demeanor.

"But, Aira, Thrax is the only non-human here!"

DO NOT PRETEND…FOR ONE SECOND… that Sylus doesn't give Thrax vibes and vice versa. Could I have tried to find a human to cast Sylus as? Maybe. But Thrax would always be the obvious choice in my mind. Besides (LADS spoiler) the game already has AUs where Sylus is a dragon, Rafayel is a merman and even when they all become "cats" etc. Clearly, we're already being pretty lenient with what "species" everyone is lol.

Jim as Caleb

I chose to cast Jim Hawkins as Caleb because both characters embody the spirit of adventure and a strong sense of personal growth. Jim is known for his rebellious nature and his journey towards maturity, traits that mirror Caleb's own development from a youthful enthusiast to a seasoned space explorer. Both characters are driven by a quest for discovery and face challenges that test their resilience and shape their identities. Jim's adaptability and his evolution from a troubled teen to a courageous leader parallels Caleb's transformative experiences in the series.

There's also just something slightly whiny about both characters - and I don't mean that as criticism. Caleb teases MC a lot, and I could see Jim acting the exact same way towards a romantic partner. With everything Jim has been through, I could also see him go down the road of being very protective of his romantic partner, just like Caleb... to the point where it becomes too much lol.

I am definitely way too obsessed with this game right now… and… yeah, there'll probably be some fan videos 👀

[dansconcepts]

Loveybug AU Headcanons/Concepts

Bc Loveybug is such a cute cute cute idea and I wanna create some stuff but we start with brainstorming my interpretation (I love seeing all the different interpretations) because of course.

I really wanna see what would happen if Adrien had to choose the Ladybug miraculous (although bad idea as it is) and I really feel like Adrien would choose Marinette despite her previous insistence on not being a good enough hero hero and being "easily exposed" as Multimouse ("I don't know Plagg, she really would be great at this! She's the most creative person I know. I really think she deserves a second shot. She would do a great job as Ladybug- although no one's better than her." And cue Plagg being like: Kid please. And also cue Marinette, a bit later, being given back the earrings and going "W-what am I supposed to do now?!"

Also, I do like the idea of flirty or just unshamelessly open about her feelings Marinette as Lovey, but also consider how she would do quite literally anything for the people she loves and gets kinda silly around those she has a crush on, and I wanna hone in on a Loveybug who's really big on gift giving (she makes so much stuff for everyone omg, the rest of the team is constantly given food or little trinkets to keep in their suits) and acts of service. Or even just consider Loveybug + love languages (she'll be so committed to trying every single one until she nails it on the head on how best to show appreciation for someone). I think as Lovey, her most prominent way to show love is through her support and devotion. So she's open-hearted until she's proven wrong in doing so. Essentially: she's loving and loveable.

In battle, that's very prominent. Her heart's on her sleeve. She has an enhanced attentiveness to the emotions that may have caused an akuma, willing to hear them out before needing to fight (will only stay on the defensive until all other methods are exhausted), being gentle to sentimonsters and giving her farewells to them, and sticks around to offer some kind words and a little gift to victims or a hug (she always asks first) after purifying the butterfly.

I imagine an average encounter with Chat (not Cat Walker because that's gonna be a separate thing ;>) to be a mixture of flirting (mostly on Chat's end, but we all know Mari can match it so easily) and a bunch of affectionate touches. Touch-starved Adrien would MELT. And Lovey would never miss a chance to tell him he's done something great or cool. She would be playfully swooning at him and everything.

Once Cat Walker's there, she's tentatively affectionate and flirty before realizing Cat Walker responds positively to casual touches and hugs better. His gentlemanly nature and reservedness does make her back off slightly. Although, as she falls deeper, she can't help her increased affection with silly lil ploys to achieve touch (i.e. Cat Walker catching her or holding her). Her being both purposefully clumsy and then the one time she's actually clumsy that causes Cat Walker to be like: Oh no, she's cute.

There's also the immense amount of angst potential, because yknow: love is beautiful, but it can also hurt. Marinette deffo knows that so damn well. She's constantly positive about it, until she sees something like someone getting broken up with, and she'll be very empathetic. Being cheated on, an unrivalled fury. Falling out of love with someone?

Oh.

Oh.

Chat notices Lovey leaning against a balcony's railing. She greets him with a grin, but her eyes are so, so sad as she gazes back at the Paris landscape. Chat: Lovey? Is everything okay? Lovey: ... She sneaks a glance at him, with a look he can't decipher, before letting out a sigh. Lovey: I think- I think I'm falling out of love with him. Lovey: Did I even love him at all? Chat, coming up next to her: What makes you think that? Lovey: I've fallen in love with someone else! How could I have done that?! How could I have dared to-?! Chat: Lovey, stop. What makes you think you don't love him anymore? Lovey: Because- because. Chat: Do you dislike him? Are you annoyed with him? Have you stopped wanting to be around him? Lovey: I- no, but... Chat: You can love multiple people, you know that. There's nothing wrong with it. Lovey: Not like this! Chat: Just use communication, lovely bug. Just communicate how you feel. That's how relationships are, right? Communicating. Lovey looks at the guy she's in love with, and turns back to a billboard to see her first love, the love she still loves. She lifts the gloved hand clutching hers, kissing it gently in gratitude: Yeah, you're right. You always know the right thing to say.

[mydearestbeloved]

I've really been enjoying the story up until now but the last few asks have kinda made me hesitant, especially your explanation/idea of both the bittersweet ending and rough concept of your guide AU. I understand they're just that - ideas and concepts, but honestly they're just making me not want to continue reading your story tbh. I'm here for an x reader with a happy ending, which is what I kinda thought this was?? (Sorry if I misunderstood or something lol). Like you're writing an AU, nothing says you have to be so canon compliant and include JinHae (even to a small degree), but also it's your story and you're allowed to do whatever you like, but I also think it's totally fair for us as readers to ask that you kinda include that since the beginning so we don't get invested and then sorta disappointed when we don't want to continue reading. Kinda sucks but live and learn I guess. I think you're a great writer and I've loved looking forward to your posts but you should probably have a concrete idea of an ending before you start writing the story to avoid situations like these in the future. Good luck to you and all the best

Hi there! First of all, thank you so much for your kind words about my writing and for sharing your honest feedback. I truly appreciate that you took the time to voice your thoughts, and I completely understand where you're coming from.

To clarify: the Trial Player AU will have a Happy Ending.

Addressing the Bittersweet Ending Discussion

No, you didn’t misunderstand. The Trial Player AU will have a Happy Ending.

The topic of the bittersweet ending actually originated from a discussion in the comments section, and I understand that not everyone may have seen the full context. My apologies for not making things clearer earlier! The increased interest and back-to-back questions about the bittersweet concept got me overly excited to share and expand on the idea, which might have made it seem like I was changing the story’s direction. I assure you, that’s not the case.

From the start, I’ve been leaning toward a Happy Ending as the canon ending. While I’ve brainstormed multiple possibilities (Happy, Bittersweet, and Bad Endings), the Happy Ending is the focus of the main story, and I’m not planning to change that. In fact, I already have drafts for side stories that build on the Happy Ending.

The bittersweet ending came up as part of my thought process for an initial idea for a sequel (Guide AU in the context of Solo Leveling: Ragnarok). That idea stemmed from the bittersweet route, but even then, it was an early concept that I never fully committed to and am already working on revising to better align with the Happy Ending. I’m so sorry for any misunderstanding this has caused!

Regarding Jinwoo x Hae-In

The mention of Jinwoo x Hae-In was also part of the bittersweet route discussion, but I want to emphasize that I don’t plan to delve deeply into their relationship in this story. The closest we’ll get is perhaps Jinwoo/Reader/Hae-In or just Jinwoo/Reader featuring Cha Hae-In.

In this story, Jinwoo is already deeply attached to Trial Player!Reader, even if he hasn’t fully realized the extent of his feelings yet. Likewise, TP!Reader and Hae-In already share a strong foundation of mutual respect and camaraderie. Even in a hypothetical situation (emphasis on hypothetical), their bond wouldn’t be easily broken, as Hae-In and TP!Reader found each other long before Jinwoo officially entered the picture.

Jinwoo x Hae-In is only mentioned in the story because of TP!Reader’s internal struggle to align herself with the canon events she remembers, as well as the system nudging her toward a canon-compliant path. However, this is tied to a deeper plot that will become clearer as the story progresses.

Again, I’m so sorry for the confusion and for making it seem like the Happy Ending wasn’t the focus of the story. I’ll be more mindful of clearly communicating my plans moving forward. I’m incredibly grateful that you’ve enjoyed the story up to now, and I hope this clarification helps ease any concerns. Thank you again for your support, feedback, and patience—it really means the world to me! 💖

[quetzalpapalotl]

In regard to IDW1!Sentinel Prime’s repulsion towards romance, I legit thought his hatred of such concepts was meant to make him homophobic or along the lines of “ugh gay people”. Was there an instance of him also hating heterosexual romance or at least all kinds as well? The more I learn about Sentinel through this blog, the more I realize I’ve been missing out on a lot of things (and the more I am going to simp for him) 💦

Well, he doesn't go out of his way to say he thinks het relationships are gross too. It's normal that his comments would reminds us of homophobia as that's a sort of equivalent in our society, that's probably what's evoking, and I do call him homophobic as a joke but homophobia is ultimately a human concept. Sentinel is not homophobic because Cybertron as a society forgot the concept of gender, everyone is male by default, the only Cybertronian women are people like Arcee who are old enough to remember when women were a thing or the lugnodes who developed a concept of gender after traveling the galaxy. Sentinel says "only the terminally sentimental had sparkmates" he's not talking about homosexual relationships, he's talking about romance itself, which is mostly homosexual due to the society they live in.

And okay, yeah, Sentinel turns out to be quite old, he would have known about women, but still, it would be really weird that his problem with romance turned out to be that it isn't straight! That makes no sense! Not only he doesn't make any comments to indicate that's the issue, but Transformers don't have any of the material conditions that led to the development of homophobia in our societies. They're not human. They wouldn't have a concept of "straight" or "gay", if they were to put social constrains on attraction or were to taxonomize it, it would be based on something that has actual bearing in their society like class or alt mode.

Indeed, Skids flirts with Firestar even when he's still getting used to use she/her pronouns, people from the colonies, who never forgot about gender, get involved in both same and different gender relationships with no issue. And the colonies retain some of the bigotries of old Cybertron. There really isn't anything in the text to support the idea that homophobia would even be a concept for these people.

So if homophobia isn't the issue, then what the fuck is Sentinel's problem?

(Mtmte #56-57)

These are the instances where Sentinel displays... amatophobia, I guess. But is this just one example of a societal trend or does Sentinel have some very radical ideas? I think it's a bit of both.

This just doesn't sound like the kind of idea one develops in a vacuum, especially with how the language resembles real-world homphobia, I think it is meant to indicate that there used to be some sort of bigotry against romance.

Cybertronian society is just not amatonormative the way ours are, Brainstorm mentions that having a conjunx is rare and that's no surpsise. These people live so long, it's quite the commitment to attach yourself to someone for that lifespan. Though, the fact that both Skids and Getaway casually flirt with Firestar right after meeting her makes me think that casual romantic dalliances among Cybertronians are a thing. It doesn't expect monogamy or the kind of prioritizing our society demands. But that's just my headcanon and me projecting a bit, anyway.

A conjunx ceremony only requires the two people to be married and is carried out in private, but the fact that Rewind has Chromedome listed as his conjunx endura and this grants him the ability to make medical decisions for an unconscious Rewind shows that you can legally register a conjunx status and this grants you special rights much like a human marriage. Now, this is under Optimus' rule who is far more chill and maybe things were different under Sentinel.

Speaking of, here's a panel of officer Orion Pax during Zeta's time asking Tappet if the guy that was killed by the police was his conjunx and that it's totally okay if that's the case because they're totally not bigots anymore (OP #1)

More evidence for amatophobia being a thing when Sentinel was Prime (and given that this is Barber instead of JRo, two writers making reference to it make it a more solid piece of lore). But when exactly did conjunx endura gained legal status instead of being just a two-people arragement? It's hard to say, it could have been under Optimus, Zeta, maybe it was a thing under Sentinel but frowned upon, maybe it had always been a thing but it got outlawed under Nominus or Sentinel before getting restored under Zeta or Orion. Since the colonies do have a concept of conjunx endura, meaning it predates Nova's rule, my guess is that this amatophobia was a later development and that conjunxes had legal status before that being removed and later restored.

That being said, Sentinel does seem... radical in his beliefs. Look how he says in his time people had "peers and colleagues, associates", that sounds kinda impersonal, he doesn't use a word like friends. Surely, even if people thought getting involved in romance was weird, the average Cybertronian wouldn't have anything against the concept of friends. Sentinel kinda sounds like those super homophobic guys who are disgusted at any level of male intimacy because that's gay. I think Sentinel is particulary opposite to interpersonal relationships and an extreme example of the normal attitude.

That still doesn't answer why is he like this tho. If I had to answer what purpose does this bigotry serve, I think it has to do with how Cybertron developed this culture of "you're all cogs in the machine" for the benefit of the ruling classes. You should serve your purpose of making Cybertron great, it's an offense that you'd choose to give your devotion to a single, common Cybertronian instead of like, the planet or a Prime (Sentinel has not problem fanboying over Onyx Prime). Look at all the things Sentinel complains about, not just conjunxes doing PDA, he has a kinda fascist idea of what Cybertron should be, nice and orderly with a disregard for differences. Transformers don't have sexual reproduction or nuclear families, so romance doesn't serve The Powers That Be in any way and is just a display of individualism.

[mercurial-thrills]

6 Mildly Quirky Tips To Make Outlining Easier

If you're a plotter, these tips may be of interest to you 😏

One of the most fun yet grueling processes of writing is plotting. The act of plotting - writing down the sequence of events in the story - can be both enjoyable and complicated at once. This process can be filled with thoughts, such as, “Will this event go well with this event?” and “How can I keep this important detail consistent?”

The process can be enjoyable because you get to find ideas for your story. The process becomes difficult when you do not know what will happen next. A common question I had when I was younger was, “How do I make outlining easier?” 

In light of that question, here are seven different tips on how to make outline easier. 

First and foremost, acknowledge how an outline is optional. Not everyone needs to write from an outline, particularly for the first draft. Two common categories in the writing community are people who plot before they write(plotters), and people who let the story come to them while in the process(pantsers). People who are in between those categories are called “plantsers.” I consider myself to be a plotter with some pantsing tendencies, especially when I find myself stuck on the breaking point of a story. 

Now, write down the character’s daily routine. Write down what they do in the mornings, afternoons, evenings, and nights. Write how it differs from weekdays, to weekends, from days they work, or days they choose to hang out with friends. Think to yourself: How could the plot move along by adding something outside the character’s routine?

My WIP Mysterious Dice takes place within the span of a month, give or take a few days. Because of this, I wrote down my main character’s routine for each day, and how it would change. I did this during the fifth draft of the story, though doing it earlier would have helped the time flow in the story.

Brainstorm the plot in bullet points before putting them in a chapter-by-chapter outline. By putting the whole story in bullet points, you can find ways to move the events around, connect them together, and create your story. If you feel like outlining keeps your writing constricted, this can create freedom while maintaining a degree of structure.

Keep a Thoughtdump. This can be a document, a notebook, or a folder in your Notes app.  Any miscellaneous information about your story can go into a thoughtdump, whether you want to dump all your thoughts at once, or write down ideas one at a time. Having a thoughtdump is beneficial for breeding ideas and having a place to explore them without committing to them.

After you have written down ideas in your thoughtdump, find a place to mark plot decisions you are going to put in the story. You can highlight them in a different colour, or copy and paste them into a separate document.

If you do not have a middle or ending for your story, write the beginning chapters and see where it takes you. Though this is less of an outlining tip, writing the beginning chapters can help create a spontaneous middle part. Some of my brightest ideas for my stories have come about without plotting them. If you are unsure on whether you are a plotter or a pantser, this tip can show you where you may stand on the spectrum. 

If you are out of ideas, search for inspiration in another type of media. Pick up a book, perhaps one in the same genre, or one in a different genre. Watch a TV show, the news, or cuddle in a blanket with a movie. The events from other types of media can inspire you to create similar events, causes, or repercussions in your story.

Crafting a powerful outline takes time. Along with time comes different methods, like writing what happens in each chapter, using a template or method like Save The Cat, and understanding how much information you want to use in your outline. 

I am always looking for advice on how to improve my writing. In my opinion, it is never impossible to have too many outlining tips. Let me know in the comments if you have any other outlining tips.

[mariequitecontrary]

2024 TF Reverse Mini Bang Memories Part 1

With the @tf-bigbang discord server closing today, I thought I'd share just a few of my favorite memories during my first community fandom event :)

Not to be dramatic, but this event changed the trajectory of my part in the transformers community for the better. It felt like I was at a 4 month long summer camp! I had so much fun talking to everyone and making so many precious, precious friends that I truly hope to stay in touch with.

So buckle in and grab some boba or your preferred drink of choice, because this is going to be long and sentimental.

A Welcoming Start

I joined at the beginning of April, due to someone reposting the Big Bang's twitter post about how writers were still welcome to join. I thought, "Only 5k word requirement over the course of a few months? Yeah sure. I can do that." Little did I know I'd actually committed to writing a fic almost 5 times that length

The vibes in the discord server started out with a bang (heh). Everyone was immediately kind and welcoming to one another. It was an immediate safe space to be excited, let loose and show our freak XD I loved how ferally affectionate we were with bringing new friends into the fold.

A sketch by @nepetacataria-art perfectly shows this I think XD

The Support and Love Shared

The sheer amount of love, comradery, and support shared with one another was astounding. Almost 200 writers and artists shared tips and tricks and offered advice and encouragement to each other! It was unreal and I learned so much. It truly encouraged me to improve in my craft and even inspired me to want to learn how to draw again!

Oh, and the RECS everyone shared!!! Everyone shared so many fics and art pieces that I am now obsessed with! I have been blessed with a LOT of quality, amazing content that I never would have seen otherwise! My tbr list grew from large to neverending haha <3

Teasing the Artists Before Match Ups

I'm ngl, I had WAY too much fun once the sketches were released to the writers and the secret-authors-corner channel was made. We all OBSESSED over all of the art and fangirled over each one! But we also talked, and talked, and talked. And dropping out of context messages into the public channels for the artists to see was too much fun!

Talking Transformers

IT WAS THE BEST THING EVEERRRRRR!!!!! WOWOWOWOWOW! I loved raving about characters and lore, both canon and fanon! Even when I wasn't a part of the conversation, just lurking and reading what people talked about whether it was AUs, comics, shows, character breakdowns, brainstorming ideas...it was all so cool and so fun. Everyone is so creative and thinking about the sheer amount of fun we all had makes me tear up.

Like, SO MANY plot bunnies were made with everyone! Myself included! Sometimes people would just say a random ass thing and then five others would hop on, riffing against each other and developing that little idea into something concrete and so so JUICY.

Two out of many MANY conversations that I personally loved were the video games x transformers ideas and talking tentacles and transformers in the nsfw channel XD

Writers Panicking, As We Do

It was all in fun, but it was very entertaining and validating to be in a space where we can all stress about our writing, our fics, and approaching deadlines.

The mods clearly enjoyed adding endless fuel to the fire and (lovingly) watched us all scream and run around in a fiery chaotic panic over every little thing.

Streaming

I didn't get to join many, but it was always so cool watching artists draw! I also had a lot of fun streaming Hades 2 with a few friends with it was first released :)

Team 0 - A King Julien Starscream Fic

It all started when Writer's Choice Period began...and the example inspired many of us writers to obsess over this...I'll let the screenshots tell you XD

A King Julien Starscream fic just WORKS and you can't tell me otherwise! @mendely's sketch REALLY sold it to me as a thing that's GOTTA happen.

Madagascar AU FTW

AND THEN THE MODS MADE IT A THING THING

@useless19's king julienscream puppet owns my soul and their little vid is possibly the finest piece of silent cinema I've ever watched in my entire life. I was ENRAPTURED.

@sxpaiscia's art KILLS ME. PUTS MY HEART IN A CHOKEHOLD. Julienscream lives in my head rent free and 50% of it is imagined with their art in mind.

The sad end to the story is...the Team 0's fic wasn't completed within the time requirements to be posted with the rest of the Mini Bang's fics :( Do we still plan on continuing and finishing it? HELL YEAH WE ARE!

To Be Continued...

Did you know that there is a limit to the amount of images you can share in one post? SMH.

Link to Part 2!