#i don't know if there's much sense to this beyond ramblings

[oaxleaf]

mag 81 - a guest for mr. spider

a very consistent trait in jon is that he needs to feel like he's being treated with respect and dignity. in mag 193 (i think?) rosie very much notes his uptight nature and desire for being seen as proffesional. i think the way he describes himself as a child very much reflects that. how he despises any implications that he's not as smart or competent as adults around him. it's easy to dismiss children as being ridiculous, but people often forget that kids do have deeper inner lives and reasons and logic behind why they do and think what they do. yeah, it's often very flawed, but that's not an inherent stupidity but rather out of a lack of experience. i think kids that grow up as outsiders, kids who are traumatized, and kids who've always been told that they're 'mature' or 'old souls' or whatever especially go through this. which, well, these mostly fit in on jon

(can you tell that i relate to all of this lol?)

anyway. isn't it fucked up how jon mentions being an orphan once and it's never brought up again? like i said, i do definitely think it affected his personality, because kids that go through something traumatic like that (and let's not pretend it isn't traumatic. it might not be life-changing ptsd inducing or whatever, but it's still trauma) often end up socially awkward because they can't connect to kids their age but they have very little in common with adults regarding life experience. so i do think it had some major impacts on him, but jesus christ this guy is really fucked up and traumatized for it only to be mentioned once

oh, and georgie's her :) i love her and i really do think she deserves more attention. aside from her spat with jon at the end of s4, she's probably the most genuine relationship he has in his life, aside from martin. they knew each other before the supernatural bullshit really manifested in their lives and she's so quick to take him in and let him stay. i don't think many people would do that for an ex with whom you had a cannonically really bad breakup with several years ago. i'd love to just see more of her and know how she thinks about and views things

[shopwitchvamp]

I mean this gently but I have to say somethin' here- I've been getting so much "make your skirts cheaper" "I love this but why are they soooo expensive" etc lately and like look, I know a lot of this is because times are hard.. (otherwise why would I be hearing this more & more this year when prices haven't changed compared to last year) but I just wanna say that one of the only ways I could lower prices (if I was ruthless and didn't care) would be to cut sizing options. Like idk how to word what I'm trying to say, but just know when you shout stuff like this at other brands & they decide they need to find a way to cut costs to lower prices, being size inclusive is gonna be one of the first things to go. I have no plans to do this myself, but for example, a D Size Skater costs me almost twice as much (talking about only the direct from the manu cost, there are other factors too such as that they weigh more so that adds more shipping costs as well) as an A Size Skater. Say I cut D Size altogether.. and many companies would have by now while also not even lowering the price.. I could increase my profit margins significantly right away. Now lets say I cut both C and D and become a shop that only offers the standard range of SM-XL. Wow! Suddenly profits are up so much!! Or maybe going not full corporate greed, I could handle lowering skater prices by like $10 (random number not based on real math idk what things would actually work out to because I'm not gonna do it). But now no one over a size XL can order from me. I fear none of what I'm trying to get across is getting across but I just mean to say, in order to offer what I offer, the prices need to be what they are. They aren't set arbitrarily high & lowering them would mean needing to make choices that I will not make (becoming less size inclusive or making my business unsustainable in the sense that it would not survive long).

[steakout-05]

something that had always been really frustrating for me when i was still in math classes in school was trying to watch the teacher actually work the problem out on the board and still not understanding wtf was happening. for some context, i heavily suspect that i have some form of dyscalculia because math and numbers literally do not compute properly in my brain. it'd be too long to explain the full extent of my possible dyscalculia here but math literally does the mental equivalent of maxing out the CPU power and memory of a computer to the point where it freezes and lags to my brain.

math class was always stressful for me because no matter what i did and how much progress i made, there was always a lack of understanding i had when it came to trying to work any math problem out long term and remembering anything. it felt like there was always something i was missing, so when the time came for the teacher to explain and go through a math problem step-by-step on the whiteboard, i made sure i paid as much attention to it as humanly possible as child-to-teenager me could muster and even then i still did not understand how the fuck they solved it, all because of one thing: the teacher pulling a random number completely out of their ass that happened to be the key to solving the problem.

like. i don't think i can illustrate how frustrating and isolating this was to experience with words alone. here i was, paying as much attention as i physically could, trying my damned hardest to memorise each individual step and calculation in order to understand how to get from point A to point B. everything made perfect sense up until the teacher suddenly stops for a second and writes a seemingly completely unrelated number there with no context as to why it's there in the first place, and then, in that singular moment, everything immediately comes crumbling down and i'm left completely confused. and somehow, everyone else around me perfectly understands it except me. like. imagine sitting there, giving the teacher all the attention you possibly could, literally watching and studying their hand movements just to understand every single step, only to be even more confused than your classmates, who you're pretty sure were half-asleep during the explanation, who also say they understand how the teacher came to that conclusion. what. the actual fuck.

when i try to explain how infinitely confusing and irritating this was for me, i'm reminded of a quote from that video Patricia Taxxon made about DHMIS: "The rug is pulled again ... There was never any hope of following the thread, understanding is impossible.". even when i was literally trying my best to possibly follow anything that was happening, the rug still gets pulled out from under my feet and i'm sent all the way back to square one of not understanding a single thing and being confused again. all because the teacher didn't explicitly explain how they got that random number that was apparently singlehandedly necessary for solving the equation and where they got it from, apart from that place being from literally fucking nowhere.

it's really no wonder that i eventually stopped giving a shit about paying attention in math class, because even when i was, it was still daunting and incomprehensible as always. why bother trying anymore when trying still gets you nowhere? trying to ask the teacher where they got that number from was an impossible to understand task as well, as their either snapped back with a "well you should have been paying attention" (even though i WAS but whatever) or they do explain that they added the first two numbers from the equation together or something, but now i'm wondering why they didn't just explain that in the first place like they did with everything else instead of seemingly just assuming everyone would know to do that.

by the way, if i had to give an estimate, my math ability is probably still at like. a 5th grader's level at best. so uh. yeah it's not good. still, it is kinda funny to me though, not only because i do find a bit of humour in the situation, but also because some people are often so quick to judge someone's intelligence purely based on their mathematical abilities alone. like. the idea of someone calling me dumb for still needing to do addition with my fingers despite the fact that my reading and language levels are considered above average is really funny to me lmaooo

[kingspuppet]

I have absolute brainrot in regards to Goro and his mother right now. Like it’s so damn high and I just wanna talk about it but I have no idea where to begin!! I also just kinda get a bit scared to talk about that kind of stuff though? So it makes it hard to solidify what I really would like for his mother, but I do have a good few ideas that I have been sitting on for awhile!! I might write them up in a little bit (if I can grasp the courage to do so). Because Goro’s mother is so important to his story and the reason for his journey!! Not only that but it’s completely disrespectful of me to not establish her more after writing Goro for a few years. So I think it’s time to give Ayame the attention she so desperately deserves!!

[arolesbianism]

Sigh. It begins (being forced to see the worst aro hcs I've ever seen in my life because ppl have a talent for finding the absolute worst characters to be their token aro hc)

[mythvoiced]

@theimpalpable | the GBEP

Another glance at his front. He can't help it. They hadn't exactly signed up as extra aid to keep watch to this area with the idea they'd be getting fashion tips from random strangers he'd almost threatened to apprehend. To stutter a little through their thought process and reactions seems sensible enough.

Also because he's somewhat starting to doubt he's talking to an actual person. Or... a living one, at least. Which opens the door to a completely different set of problems, which he'd truly rather not step through today.

Or tonight, rather.

Or at any point in time, actually.

Calloused hand flattens the front of his clothes until his fingers curl around the hem of the bland shirt he's wearing under his jacket, lifting it up to stare down at it as though the fabric could materialise a visual representation of the colours just described.

They look up.

What an odd fella. Stiff, somewhat, but not really. Stiff in a way gentlemen are in Western shows, controlled like people of the elite, intellectuals, and superior to the smaller ones who don't have fine shoes, nor can they afford them. At the same time, though, he doesn't... seem... particulary arrogant? That small extra weight to self-importance that would have made assessing him easier.

His tone of voice, too, conversational, if, again, a little... stiff.

Though Seok-ju feels that's not quite the right word.

He blinks, tilts their head. "I'm... I'll be honest, I'm not quite sure what 'burgundy' and 'hazelwood' look like," a smile breaks out on their lips, like the sun through hazy, stern clouds. Not quite sheepish. Humorous, almost. "I like my fashion and my style, but... not an expert on the finer details like the actual proper names of colours."

"So," Seok-ju clears their throat, a casual little human error, tick, more than the actual need for it, "when you say replicate... You're a tailor? Or someone from that industry?"

Well, that would explain... wait, that would explain a lot actually. Fine suit, fine demeanour, fine everything. Seok-ju shoves his hands into his back pockets and relaxes with his elbows jutted out, like moments from replicating a mother scolding a silly child.

Although, the naturalism makes him wonder if 'industry' is the right word to apply here.

"Some sort of patrol, yeah," they concede, shifting their weight to rotate the stiffening joints of one of their ankle. Fine manner of speech and apparently very dedicated to his craft, which could both make him terribly innocent or... well... be a very good cover.

"It's nothing too serious, though, you don't have to worry. Nothing dangerous at least," a shrug. A kid missing is always a serious thing, even though too many in the precinct would argue that 19 years don't make a guy a kid, and he's a guy anyway, whatever could possibly happen to him.

Maybe that's why they'd had to volunteer. South Korea and its oh so inclusive laws for missing people. "Say, you wouldn't happen to have seen a young male-presenting adult most likely wearing a Doosan Bears baseball shirt, beige school uniform trousers, white running shoes and a sports bag?" A tilt of his head to the side again and tragically for himself, the face he makes is doubtful enough that he can't help recognise that some of his fellow officer's thoughts might have begun slipping into their head. "About this height," lifts his hand to hover, flattened palm facing the ground, an arm width over his head. "Potentially in distress, appearing lost, or unapproachable. Maybe in the company of someone else?"

[fullfriendnerdclutch]

After Wes did his part, it's Adrien's turn now

*knock knock*

"Come in! I don't usually have a visitor at 8.30 PM at summertime, to whom do I owe such pleasure? Oh....Adrien, son, why are you still in the office? Everyone usually left around 6 or 7 PM, except Cathy obviously, she's such a reliable assistant for me. Oh crap, enough with the rambling, what's up, son?" the DILF said cheerfully, unaware of Adrien's malicious intention

"Oh, the pleasure's mine, sir *close the door*. Especially when I will explore that tight hunky body of yours using that beautiful rugged hands and feeling all the raw authoritative strength coursing all over my system," Adrien said grinning as he takes a swig of his vial that he dropped to the floor with almost half of its content still left inside it. He found himself delighted with the mint-like yet more intense sensation from the potion as he tried to make his move

Taken aback with his own employee seemingly in lust with him so openly, he tried to speak a few words to get some sense back to Adrien. After all, this is the star recruit from a local Catholic college, why is he openly admitting to his homosexual desire knowing full well that his own boss is very much a devoted followers of Christ? But, the moment Adrien sprinted like his sole life goal literally placed right in front of his lanky 28 years old self, Mr. Wilson knows that shit will go south quickly, so he readied himself for an impact as he closed his eyes and raised his arm before realizing that 80% of Adrien's body already absorbed into him. Now faced with Adrien's face literally super close with his face, Mr. Wilson realized how fucked his situation at this very moment as Adrien's form seemingly turned slimy and his eyes clearly a little bit wrong

"We're going to be so close, I'm practically going to puppet your body to do whatever I desired," Adrien said with a maniacal grin that Mr. Wilson wouldn't expect coming from the usually-reserved new joiner

Adrien then lunged for a deadly kiss that will seal their fate and despite Mr. Wilson effort to move his arm to stop Adrien and turn his head away, rest of Adrien solid-slimy form still not absorbed by Mr. Wilson's body simply splashed on the surface of the DILF's face and upper part of the suit. The "slime" then moved to enter all possible orifices, be it Mr. Wilson's mouth, nostrils or ears, all entries are utilized and stuffed to the brim by the leftover slime. Mr. Wilson's body then convulsed like a fish taken out of the ocean in his seat, battling for its life as the invader inched closer than ever to take full control. His erratic movement and the spreading sensation of the invasion drawn him to unbutton his shirt and tried to do anything to stop the sensation from taking hold over his entire body. Yet, when the cold, slimy feeling managed to gain access to the veins in his cock and simultaneously reached the back of his head, he knows that he's fucked beyond repair. Eventually, Adrien's invasion overwhelmed the 51 years old muscle tank, which then roared in delight as he finally take a deep, crisp breath of the air-conditioned, sandalwood-scented executive suite from the lung of the one and only Robert Wilson. He chuckled in delight as his control become stronger with every second passed with him inside his DILF of a boss body. The body actually started to feel less and less foreign and it's like as if he's always in control of this 5'7" fit ball of muscle within minutes, so in an abuse of his boss muscle memory, Adrien slid the calloused hand Robert Wilson used to shake hands with high-powered executives and bureaucrats into the exposed muscular chest now under his control.

It instantly electrifies him as Robert's memory revealed a very sensitive nipple that always sent the law firm partner to his knees during all his sexual escapades. Adrien experienced the same knee-buckling sensation as he can sense the growing erection confined by the denim. Add to the fact that Adrien just practically aroused the 51 years old by slipping inside of him, creamy white spunk painting his underwear and the rest of his clothing is simply inevitable. Not even a minute after teasing the perky pink nipples of his own boss, Adrien shot the biggest load out of Mr. Wilson's dick as if he's been blue-balling himself for weeks! Adrien simply chuckled to the mess he created,

"Sloppy guy, don't you? Fuck I don't expect you to be this easy, sir," he said as he savored the taste of now-his cum from his finger, the taste and the deep chuckling just sent his flaccid cock into yet another semi

"Hahahahahah, I can do this shit all night long," he said as he grinned mischievously while ensuring that he cleaned all his fingers

Looking at his disheveled reflection, Adrien decided to at least clean himself up before meeting his boyfriend. Besides, he's been dying to see the inside of the executive bathroom inside Mr. Wilson's office, so he strut himself to the secluded bathroom in his soiled clothing, the shit-eating grin plastered on his face as his eyes caught the plaque of the law firm, Wilson, Thorpe, van Beecker, the idea of walking around the law firm he now basically own and demanding attention from everyone as they all practically worked for him now really drive him close to the edge. But, he calmed himself down and managed to get into the bathroom without another spunk spoiling his pants.

Inside the shower, more memories of Mr. Wilson unlocked for him. A dinner plan with his son tonight, yeah, just gonna call that sport after this whole shower to cancel it, and mostly memories about works from the past few months. The sensation feels calming and right, that all of this feels deeply personal yet very much rightfully his. It's like climbing a mountain, there's more sight and area that his eyes can see from a much higher vantage point the longer he climbed, or in this case, the longer he stayed inside this body. He can direct his focus to a certain memories even from the distant past now, like his wedding day, the day his only son was born, the moment he tearfully admitted to his wife that he fell out of love with her and reconnected with his old homosexual desire, everything becomes more and more accessible which certainly can help him to play the part of Robert Wilson through and through. He did all that with his eyes closed, head backed to the wall without realizing that his hand wandered all over his body, feeling all the muscle and the ridges of his weathered, strong physique and letting out momentary delighted moan and groan with each touches and more memories revealed. When the memories showcased the first memory of Mr. Wilson, the merging eventually completed as he no longer viewed Mr. Wilson as a separate entity and seeing his memories from third-person point of view, he's seeing and experiencing it from Mr. Wilson's perspective. As that moment happened, the climax hit Adrien very hard as 53 years of Mr. Wilson's life finally fused very beautifully with his own set of memories, making all the pain, sorrow, joy, lust, euphoria and all sort of sensation that Mr. Wilson went through crashed into his system and knocked himself off as volleys of cum wildly unloaded from the hard 9 incher monster that's been on the edge for the past couple of minutes

Adrien found himself splayed on the bathroom floor, losing track of times and his body sticky from all the mess he sprayed. But he just simply chuckled as he found himself finally fully at home inside this studly DILF body he can comfortably called his now. He just quickly wiped off the excess, drying cum from his body with the shower still running and finished his shower in no time as he cannot let his boyfriend waited any longer

As he walked back to his office, he found it weird that the door is opened and he can clearly listen someone humming from inside. And that's the voice of his son, Carl! Shit, he thought frantically, thinking of any excuse to explain why he's showering in the office and skipping dinner with his son without informing him. As he tried to keep his cool and walked into the office suite, his son suddenly greeted him first with no shirts on whatsoever

"Hello, dad. Or should I say, Adrien,"

That's when Mr. Wilson's eyes darted to the now-empty vial sitting in his desk. Who is this person and how the fuck he's in control of Carl's body????

[anxious-lee]

Nothing To Prove || Gravity Falls Tickle Fic ||

A/N: there's a lot of buildup at the start but THIS IS A TICKLE FIC I SWEAR! more than anything though, I'm writing this for the sake of developing characters. This is familial love so if I see any i*cest, I am blocking you on sight

Summary: When Ford comes to realize how much Dipper looks up to him, he seeks out a way to show his young nephew that there's no need to be intimidated by him.

Word count: 2,454

----

Dipper

Life just got a whole galaxy bigger.

Dipper thought he knew what his life would become when he found that old dusty book in the forest; he'd pursue adventure, get into danger, fight monsters.

But meeting his number one hero? And then finding out that he's related?

Not a chance.

It'd been a year since Dipper and his sister left Gravity Falls. They had lots of time that school year to ruminate on everything they had been through together. In the span of three months, their whole universe had turned inside out.

They had another uncle. Someone else to look out for and protect them. Mabel, as she is with all news of this sort, was over the moon. Dipper, however, wasn't as content. It wasn't that he didn't like Great Uncle Ford. Far from it. He loved him unconditionally. He worshipped the ground he walked on. He would fight a thousand beasts to earn his mentor's pride. And that was the problem.

Dipper had spent so long dreaming of the author as this distant hero; an intellectual mastermind that surpassed all around him. He dreamt of meeting him, yes. Bombarding him with questions, absolutely. But now the man was part of his family. The same family that he cracked stupid fart jokes and goofed around with.

Dipper wasn't prepared to have someone so important to him in his life on a permanent basis. He couldn't help but feel a little small around Ford, like every move he made was a chance to embarrass himself in front of his idol.

After his first summer in Gravity Falls ended, Dipper hoped that his overwhelming sense of awe would pass with the time, and he would grow more comfortable around this new addition to the family. But the moment he stepped off of that bus and saw his great-uncle there to greet him, he knew it wouldn't be quite that easy.

He volunteered for as many of Ford's experiments as he could. He offered as much help as he could provide. When faced with an obstacle, Dipper made sure to prove to his uncle that he was smart and tough beyond his years. This, as one might expect, is a difficult and exhausting image to maintain. Being "the perfect, mature man of science" was hard when you were a young, hormonal teenage boy. But that wasn't going to stop Dipper.

When Ford had asked if him if he wanted to help engineer a stronger form of glass that could withstand abnormally high temperatures, he nearly fell over with excitement. He was going to be the best lab assistant Ford could ask for.

It seemed, however, that he couldn't get that right after all, because when bringing over the regular glass jar for experimentation, it slipped through his fingers and shattered.

Dipper was mortified. Not only had he broken the constant variable in their experiment, but possibly also the trust Ford placed in him to be a responsible assistant. How could he have been so careless? Was their experiment ruined now? Did Ford think he wasn't taking this seriously?

"Oh my gosh! Oh my- I- I'm so sorry, Great Uncle Ford! I don't know what happened. I thought I had it" Dipper rambled, throat tightening.

"Aw shoot," Ford cursed under his breath, "It's okay, Dipper, it happens. Here, why don't you go fetch me a new jar from the back shelves while I sweep up this mess?"

"Act- Actually you know what, I think you might actually have an easier time doing this if I wasn't here. I- I don't want to get in your way. " Dipper shuffled back towards the door.

"But I thought you wanted to-" Ford turned to his nephew only to find that he was already gone.

---

Ford

It was unusual, and not the kind that Ford enjoyed. The puzzling kind of unusual.

The conclusion did not follow the variables. Variable one: Ford was conducting an experiment. Variable two: Ford asked Dipper for assistance. Variable three: Dipper was eager to help. Conclusion: Dipper had panicked and ran off. It just wasn't right. Something was off balance.

Now, in a technical situation, Ford could figure out the root cause himself. He had well over thirty years of practice doing so. But this was a human being. Moreso, this was his great nephew, and he wasn't so skilled in the people area. He needed to outsource this predicament with someone who knew Dipper longer than he had. Someone he could trust to tell him what he was doing wrong.

That someone in particular was tucking away a large medieval flail in the cupboards of the sitting room when Ford found him. What it was for, Ford thought it better not to ask.

"Stanley, can I talk to you about something?" He said.

"I didn't know it was a bear, honest!" Stan yelled.

"What?"

"Uhh, nothing. What's on your mind?"

"I have the strangest feeling that Dipper is more anxious than normal. He ran out of my lab this morning looking like he'd seen a ghost, which I have ruled out as a possibility because the air did not smell at all of sulfur. Anyway, the point is, I think something's wrong with him. You've known him far longer than I have. I thought maybe you would have better insight into these things" Ford explained.

Stan stood silently for a moment.

"Stan?"

"Oh sorry I was just enjoying the moment you finally came to me for advice"

"Stanley."

His brother quirked an eyebrow at him. "You don't gotta be a genius to figure this one out, Poindexter. The kid's afraid of looking bad in front of ya."

Ford was stunned into silence. This was a new feeling. An new, terribly odd feeling.

"What?"

"Come on, you've got to have noticed by now. He looks to you like you're a god. He practically worships the ground you walk on. You were like his hero before you'd even met him. You think he's not gonna feel some pressure to live up to your standard? He just wants you to be proud of him."

"I love him! He's my brother's grandson! And of course I'm proud of him. He's very remarkable for his age" Ford said.

"Then why don't you tell him that once in a while."

Ford lost himself in thought.

"Well, time to get back to restocking my weapons. Good luck with your family tension. I'll call you for dinner," Stan sauntered away, seemingly unbothered by the problem, "Prepping for battle, do do do..."

Once again, Ford was left alone to think.

---

This wasn't the first time that Ford had heard someone tell him that he had a standoff-ish impression on people, but he never thought it would impact his kin. Someone he treasured so greatly. Now that he knew how Dipper was feeling, he couldn't waltz around and act like he didn't know. Something had to be done. The only issue was, he didn't know what.

Ford waited a couple days before asking Dipper to rejoin his experiments, knowing that the boy probably wouldn't be willing to assist him just yet after what happened. To his relief, Dipper agreed.

It was still painful to know that his nephew was intimidated by him, but it felt nice just to have him by his side again being his seemingly normal self.

The day went without a hitch this time. In fact, things went quicker than expected and they finished early. It was as they were readying themselves to leave when Ford spoke.

"Thank you for your help today, Dipper. I've been having trouble operating all of this machinery by myself lately. Must have thrown out my back or something."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Dipper replied, "Muscles get tighter with age, so I'm sure it's normal."

Ford turned to look down at his nephew. "Are you calling me old?"

The boy paled. "Wh- I- Uh- I- I wasn't-"

"I'm afraid I have no choice but to punish you for your disrespect" the scientist said darkly.

Before Dipper could have time to overthink that threat, Ford pulled the boy into his arms, sat himself on the ground and started tickling his belly.

The first few seconds were filled with frantic babbling; jumbled syllables trying to make themselves into a coherent sentence. Ford wasn't hearing a "stop", so he didn't.

Dipper giggled hysterically. His face had instantly screwed itself up tight and was looking for a way to bury itself into some hiding place. "GREATUNCLEFORHOHORD! WHAT ARE YOU DOHOHOHOING?!"

"Tickling you, of course! I thought that was obvious," Ford answered with cheer, all pretend-seriousness gone. He chuckled. "I guess you inherited more from me than I thought."

Dipper couldn't seem to figure out what to do with his hands, until he settled on hiding his face with them.

"Aw, don't be shy, son. I'm not the author today. Today, I'm just your uncle," Ford then added with a growl, "Your uncle: the tickle monster!"

The boy's arms fell from his face, settling down on his lap like little t-rex arms. He seemed to have surrendered to the silliness of it and didn't bother to fight.

Wonderful, Ford thought, that means he trusts me!

As Ford moved from belly to sides to ribs, Dipper's laughter went up and down like a rollercoaster, his child-like smile never leaving his face. "IHIHIHI'M SORRYHIHIHI!"

"Nuh uh, kid. "Sorry"'s not gonna cut it," Ford said playfully. He was surprised how good he was at this. He didn't have much experience with playing with children, and he had thought his decades of interdimensional travel would've hardened him to such silliness. Thank the gods that it hadn't.

As Ford's hand started to travel up to the boy's underarm, the boy shrieked and suddenly found the will to fight.

"EHEHEHEK! NONONONONO!"

Ford couldn't help himself laughing at his adorable little ward. "Ticklish there, huh?"

"YEHEHES" Dipper cried.

"Okay, okay, I'll make you a deal. You take back what you said about me being old, and I'll stop tickling you."

Ford had expected the kid to be worn out by now. He thought it was only fair to offer him an out. To his surprise, he didn't take it.

Dipper seemed to think it over for a second, then shook his head with an extra giggle, one that was not from the tickling.

This kid is going to be the death of me, Ford thought, not a hint of regret in his mind.

"Okay, if you say so," the man said playfully, and dug all six fingers into the boy's hollows.

A shriek, and then more rambling, and then loud laughter.

Dipper, despite being tickled within an inch of his life, looked happier than Ford had ever seen him. If this was a dream, Ford did not want to wake up.

"I've got some questions for you, Dipper. Smile for yes and laugh for no, ya got it?"

All he could do was laugh.

"Okay, are you smart?"

Dipper sunk his chin in to his chest.

"Dipper, this won't work if you say yes and no" Ford remarked with fake incredulousness, "Okay, hmmmm... are you brave?"

The teen began to snicker.

"I don't think you understand the rules of this game," Ford said, which only made Dipper laugh harder.

"Alright, alright, last one. Are you ticklish?"

Dipper let out a snort at that infernal question.

"I'll take that as a yes," Ford smiled smugly.

After several more minutes of goofing around, Dipper finally had enough.

"OKAYHYHYHY OKAYHYHY! I TAKE IT BAHAHACK!"

"Good lad." And with that, Ford released his victim.

Dipper wrapped his arms around himself and giggled till there were no more laughs left in him.

"You okay, son? I didn't go too crazy, did I?"

"No no, I'm fihihine. Mabel's put me through much worhorse."

"I can believe that. She got that from your uncle Stanley, you know."

After having regained his breath, Dipper got up from his uncle's lap. "So... are you really not mad about the jar I broke the other day?"

"Oh, Dipper, of course I'm not. You should see the things I've broken down here. You'd be shocked."

"But when you make a mistake, it's different." Dipper recoiled. Apparently, he didn't mean to let that slip.

"What do you mean?"

Dipper's timidness was returning, and Ford almost regretted even asking.

"It's just... you've done so many great things and are so perfect the rest of the time that the mistakes you make don't count as much."

That was some seriously flawed logic, but Ford chose not to point it out.

Dipper continued. "I make too many mistakes."

"Dipper, you're supposed to make mistakes. You're twelve. Do you think I was able to do all the things I do now at your age? Not even remotely.

"And more to the point, you don't have to embarrassed about those mistakes. Especially not with me."

"But you're different! You're the author! The author I'd been searching for all summer. You're a dimension-hopping scientist! And surprise, surprise, you're even cooler in person! And I'm just... so... small.

"I keep trying to make myself useful, to be someone you can be proud of, but-"

Ford kneeled down and placed both hands on the kid's shoulders. "Dipper, listen very close to me. I'm going to tell you something, and I need you to really hear me, understand?"

Dipper hesitantly nodded.

"I am so proud of you. You're my great nephew. I'm proud of you every minute of every day. That's not something that can change. You've got nothing to prove to me. You make me proud simply by being who you are. Never question that. Can you do that for me, son?"

The boy looked near to tears.

Oh gods, Ford thought, did he say something wrong? He thought this would make him feel better, not worse! Should he-

Little arms suddenly hugged his neck tight. "Yeah... yeah I can."

Ford could not get his arms around him fast enough.

"Now, don't you ever go comparing yourself to me. What a disservice to your incredible self."

Dipper hugged tighter.

Ford himself could feel little pin pricks in his own eyes. He released his hug and cleared his throat.

"Well, I think we've had enough excitement down here for one day. What do you say we head back upstairs for dinner."

Dipper wiped his eyes with a happy smile. "Sounds good to me."

The two walked back towards the door, a new kind of bond formed between them. It felt like something had been accomplished today, and that was all either of them could ask for.

"You are old, though."

"Oh, I'll show you old. Get back here!"

----

This has been an idea of mine for quite some time. Rewatching the show was just the straw that broke this writer's back apparently. So happy to have finally written this ❤️

[batbabydamian]

The Boy Wonder #3 by Juni Ba rambling about how cool this series would be to read in a single sitting...it's all so connected!!

rambles for issue #1 and issue #2!

i don't have as much personal interpretation for this cover besides it being a solid piece of art in shapes and silhouette! ALSO. bi bg lighting lol. Damian's "X" posing of his cape and swords parallels with Tim's "X" chest straps + the Robin emblem in the center. Tim's closed Red Robin wings frames Robin's own outstretched cape wings; and on top of that, the shadows cast inside the wings nicely frames Damian's demon mask.

Joe and Merle's dynamic has been so fun, especially with the mutual enthusiasm over the storytelling 🥺 Joe also opens up about his circumstances that led him to this moment, which perfectly sets up the setting of this issue! Even his very first introduction becomes a relevant detail when a fancy rich couple drops a champagne glass, uncaring of the people literally below them, saying “some poor sap down there’ll appreciate it” when it bonks Joe’s head.

it all comes around!! and tbh this issue proves how much this series would slap to read in a single sitting (GET THE COLLECTED EDITION)

Going beyond first impressions seems to apply to the color palette in this series. From #1 in the first page of Gotham, we see the gold of upper society to the blue of the downtrodden → from issues #2 and #3, it’s the warm gold of inner Gotham to the cold blue of the rich. there’s a sense of community displayed among the poor - even part of Jason’s intro avenging Bill, a generous man mourned on panel by many. The rich gives off a sense of individualism, celebrating themselves and their excess.

With the change in scenery, this issue steps into the more civilian side of things through a spy theme - fancy suits and lil gadget intros! Going down the civilian route with Tim feels very fitting since it's what makes Tim's run as Robin so charming!

i love that Talia’s taught Damian to be conscious of the rich’s effects on society, especially in the following page of small panels zoning in on the details of wealth and overindulgence. but also LIL DAMIAN. HIS LIL ROUND EYES AND HANDS 🥺

Damian’s aware of the facts, and his disgust is clearer after having just been through lower Gotham and seeing firsthand the poverty directly caused by the wealthy (also not sure if that old lady is the same one from #1 with similar hair and clothes, but pls she can't a break…)

i mentioned Damian’s “inciting incident” for this journey to be the intro of a demon for Damian to prove his worth but i’m correcting the use of that term!! the intro of the demon is more the beginning of plot, whereas the actual inciting incident is beheading the thief!! it’s the main reason he’s in this situation where he felt the need to prove himself, and atone. Most notably is that the beheaded thief is a consistent character that quite literally haunts Damian every step of the way.

The statue of Batman’s head being popped off becomes a significant visual, because while Damian started this journey to prove something to Bruce, the only one that really seems to have (quite literal) eyes for Damian’s journey is the thief. Why does he make more of an appearance than the actual Bat? Even his statue’s head doesn’t make a figurative presence; whereas the only one looming over Damian is the thief. Guilt over killing him may be driving him just as much as his desire to be worthy. Alternatively, it could be that Damian needs to reexamine his motivations since the thief is really getting in Damian's face now.

Damian is proud to be a positive influence on Tim, but the moment is short-lived. It’s an ironic moment to me because Damian doesn't even know the impact he's had on Jason just in the previous issue!! 😭

Damian's so desperate to prove his worth, yet he's been making choices in every issue to help others!! Helping the old woman up in #1, being vulnerable with Jason in #2, and now sacrificing himself for Tim!

The Ra’s "Weakness" panel has been reoccurring since #1, but it's the first time Talia has been included. Being great figures in his life and mind, their silhouettes consume Damian's, similar to a few of Batman's appearances below. This latest disappointment was such a blow to Damian, that Talia (who he might have the most respect for) becomes an added voice in his head.

Final thoughts!!

Like Rok, does the thief actually have a connection to the al Ghuls or is this beard just in fashion at the moment.

Lex is clearly referencing one of the Underwell warehouses that Joe and Merle are presently, so wondering if whatever he and Tim discuss here will be affecting them later.

Ending with Talia’s cover for extra hype!! i’ll probably go back to this for the next ramble, but i’m already gearing myself up to wail about Talia just based on this cover. The Mary and Jesus imagery (more prominent with Damian’s lil crown as a “prince”) but most importantly Talia weathering the flames for Damian…her own shroud/shawl wrapped around Damian and burning… oh boy

[thegnomelord]

Bro I have been a solid lurker for a HOT moment. Let me just say stupendous writing literally devouring this surplus like a fine dinning for 3. Daily check your page because the writing is so immaculate!

I have come to share a particular idea. Soap has a Mohawk but what about male reader having a cool hairstyle to. (Totally not because I also have a Mohawk there cool asf) but soap who is used to having his hair pulled, then comes along reader and he's practically begging to have his hair pulled with the silly style and soaps obsessed. BONUS points if reader and soap or monsters like bloodborne lichen dude 🙏🙏🙏 peek monster design I need to see that in action you know. (I'm so full of cool old school horror movies with monsters and insane cool practical effects) all I'm thinking about it Soap who's being an arse pushing reader to his limits, grabbing his hair and pulling only to get a near guttural growl from reader and getting demolish by reader

Sorry if that made no sense im rambling and the bus is a pain in my side.

Could I be 🛠 anon!

NGL I always wanted a mohawk and TRIED to do a mohawk but my head is shaped like a very inbred egg and it just does not look good on me.

CW:MDNI, sorry it's short I don't have much time cause I'm swamped with other projects and my studies :Dd

But I also love the idea of conventional werewolf Soap with Bloodborn werewolf reader. Like you're beastly even in human form, a wild mohawk on your head stretching down all the way down your spine, wild coarse hair giving you a savage appearance. And Johnny is painfully hard for it. Just something wild in bones absolutely salivates for the blatant ferocity you show.

So, as you do, he makes himself a menace every chance he gets. Something in him, something beyond his inner wolf, earns for the ferocious bloody fight and brawl. So any chance he gets, he's by your side, growling, baring his teeth, always trying to push the boundaries of your space.

He finally fucks up when, his need getting too strong, he reaches out and curls his fingers in your mohawk near the nape of your neck. The growl he receives shakes the ground and has his heart dropping to his stomach. Your teeth are on him in a second, big clawed paws pinning him to the ground no matter how much he shifts and tries to fight back. You're bigger than him in wolf form, wild hair and semi-flayed flesh falling around his head like a shroud so all he can see is are the jagged jaws snarling near his face.

And it only takes a second before you feel his ass bump against your groin, a second later to smell the strong musk of arousal clinging to him like the last dregs of humanity cling to your bones. Soap whines like a kicked pup when he smells your acrid arousal in return, licking into your open jaws and struggling on purpose to grind his ass against your quickly hardening cock.

[viridwns]

The way I've been daydreaming about an innocent and go lucky darling slowly being caged by demon!Chrollo.

Also I wrote this at 2 AM so expect spelling mistakes and the plot making no sense. Tbh this sounds like regular Chrollo as well.

Demon!Chrollo, who was summoned by some low ranking mob boss. The idiot thought that with a demon by his side, he would quickly rise the ranks.

Demon!Chrollo, who manipulated said boss in summoning his troupe as well. After he didn't even need to flick his wrist or bloodsplatters already tainted the walls

Demon!Chrollo, who has waited millenias to be summoned again. Being locked away by the zoldyck's for messing with their affairs was a greater problem than Chrollo would've liked.

Demon!Chrollo, who kept a low profile, preparing him and his troupe to start hoarding things from the human world again. Especially rare ones that were not easy to obtain. He was crazy about that.

Demon!Chrollo, who slowly but surely gained power again, wreaking havoc on everyone who did him wrong. He stayed in the shadows while he did, pouncing on human souls when they least expected it. Oh, how he missed feeding of the people from earth.

Demon!Chrollo, who first saw you in your pretty white sun dress wearing a big white bow in your hair to match. You were sitting by a window reading in a smalltown bookshop. He had been planning on taking over this town soon enough. He needed to gain as much strength as he could before terrorizing the big cities like York New.

Demon!Chrollo, who grows curious of you. The bookshop itself was deserted. It also didn't help that you were wearing something so bright in contrast to the dim shop. Even the town was somber, so why were you dressed all pretty and light?

Demon!Chrollo, who couldn't help but focus intensly on your soft face. You honestly looked like the human version of a bunny. Is this what humans meant with cute?

Demon!Chrollo, who is amused by your lack of awareness. He's been standing in the middle of the shop for 10 minutes staring at you, and you were totally captivated by your book

Demon!Chrollo, who can't help but clear his throat. Biting back an involuntary smile when your head moves into his direction, but your eyes stay on your book a while longer.

Demon!Chrollo, who says he didn't mind when you apologize vigorously for making him wait once your focus shifted on him. He finds it strange how he didn't kill you yet. You were alone in a deserted place, this was the perfect opportunity, but yet he can't help to find out more a about you.

Demon!Chrollo, who finds out you were the owner of the shop, but business has been running slow. You were still weirdly upbeat, even when you were on the verge of going broke.

Demon!Chrollo, who buys a few books based on your recommendations, you just keep rambling on to him, not a care in the world. He lets you reach for books on the highest shelves, just to see you stand on your tippy toes. Your frilly dress lifting ever so slighty for him to see where exactly your stockings stop. Mid thigh. He swoops in last second, when you were about to get a ladder, leaning over you from behind and getting the book; apologizing for letting you do so much work.

Demon!Chrollo, who can't get enough of your soft smiles, small giggles and your sunny personality. When you're from a world that has only seen the worst of mankind, you were a welcomed refreshment.

Demon!Chrollo, who thinks it's stupid how fast you trust him, but it bothers him more to think about how quickly you would trust others. You just don't seem to think you can get hurt.

Demon!Chrollo, who takes the initiative to visit you every day. He must protect his angel.

Demon!Chrollo, who is surprised by how little you know about the actual world. You see the world in rainbows and glitter, not having seen what's out there beyond this smalltown life. When he told you one of his 'adventures' (leaving the not so pleasant details out) you couldn't get enough of it.

Demon!Chrollo, who has to hold back when you listen to him with your eyes wide and big, your mouth slightly parted, and your overhelming load of questions.

Demon!Chrollo, who secretly wants to corrupt you. Every time you wear a pretty bow or a white dress with lace stockings hugging your legs so nice, he can't help the urge to bend you over the cashier, lift up your so easily accessible dress to find out you are wearing silk panties and fuck you so hard your purity ring shatters right off your finger.

Demon!Chrollo, who wants to show you what he is, what an angel like you has been spending time with. He wants to drag you with him to hell, to consume your soul and make you like him.

Demon!Chrollo, who likes to show off just a fraction of his strength to you by moving furniture where you want it. Or who uses his speed to steal some of your stuff from right under your nose. You won't know it was him, you're too oblivious.

Demon!Chrollo, who never had such intense attractions to a human before. He wasn't inexperienced when it came to mates, but those were all to quench his needs. He couldn't help but want to lock you up and keep you at his side forever.

Demon!Chrollo, who uses his alluring voice to make you do what he wants. You won't even remember the next day. Thinking the bruising on your thighs is just from bumping into too many corners (even though some bruises look like very clear bitemarks of something that has sharp canines)

Demon!Chrollo, who won't penetrate you just yet. He wants you conscious for that. He uses his outwordly looks to seduce you. You're very playful, he finds. He never knows if you are flirting or just being...you. When you steal his book from him and he responds with cornering you, coming up all nice and close in your face, but you only respond with giggles, slapping the book in his chest and booping his nose before escaping his trap.

Demon!Chrollo, who also wants to keep you the way you are. Who wants to keep you as his little human who fills his day with a lovely smile. He wants you at his side as he destroys town after to town, as he becomes stronger and more powerful.

Demon!Chrollo, who keeps his cool with you but slowly cages you in. You don't leave the bookshop that much anymore, not when he is there most of the time, keeping you company and somehow taking care of your every need. He has taken a personal claim on your pure soul, and demons are very posessive of what is theirs.

[fandomnerd9602]

Unexpected

Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Wanda was hyperventilating. Positive. They all read positive. Not one but three positive tests. Wanda didn’t know if she was on cloud nine or scared beyond all possibilities.

You were her neighbor and secret boyfriend. The boys had weekends with their father and Wanda’s ex husband. Luckily the boys were with him today.

Wanda fell for you after the kindness that you showed her and the boys as they were settling in. You loved the boys like they were your own. You played with them whatever they wanted to. You taught them everything that her ex wouldn't. You were more of a loving father for the first year than their birth father. Would that love change now that she was pregnant with your baby?

She had to tell you. It was your baby after all. Wanda's nerves were on edge. What if you didn't want to be a parent? What if you would abandon her? What if you were...all of these negative thoughts filled her mind as she walked out of her house and across the street of her humble little cul-de-sac to your humble abode.

She knocked on your door and gently pushed a couple stray hairs back into place. The familiar bark of a small terrier dog filled the air.

You opened the door and smiled, "hello neighbor"

"HI" she smiled at you, "we need to talk."

You lead her into your living room and began your little ritual you had every time she came over. You went to the kitchen and after a few minutes, you came back with favorite tea. Wanda kept the pregnancy test in her purse, her fingers lightly tapping the faint outline of it thru the fabric lining.

You came back in with a smile and two mugs of tea. "So..." you inquired with a smile, "the boys over at Vis'?"

"Yes" she answered matter of factly

"I-I know we're still learning about us and all" you tried to say, "And I love being with you and the boys. I know it hasn't been long but-"

"I need to tell you something," Wanda stated, she bit her lip. She didn't exactly mean for it to come across so demanding.

"Is everything alright, Wanda?" you set down your mug and gently take her hand.

"Please don't be mad at me" she whispered.

"Why would I-?" you tried to ask only for her to reach into her purse and pull out the positive pregnancy test.

"It's yours" she whispered, trying to hide her face. Maybe it was a bit of shame or maybe embarrassment. "I-I want to keep the baby"

You looked to her in shock. You could feel your eyes blurring from the tears.

"I just hope that you could still love me. and the boys...and our baby" Wanda looked to you, tears forming in her eyes.

"I love you. So much." you whispered before wrapping her in a hug and pulling her in as tight as you could. You could feel an overwhelming sense of joy building in you. "Oh Wanda! A baby?! I'm gonna be a Daddy?!"

Wanda couldn't help but laugh. This was better than any reaction she had thought of. "Yes." she nods passionately before hugging you tight again.

"I wanna be there for you. and our baby. and the boys of course. I know it wasn't planned or anything but I'm just so happy and..." you rambled on. Wanda was so relieved and finding another reason to love you even more.

She silenced you with a kiss. You gently kissed her back before leaning down and kissing her belly.

"Hey baby" you whispered to her still flat belly, "it's Daddy. And I'm already so in love with you"

Wanda gently ran her fingers through your hair. You were just perfect for her. The perfect lover. The perfect father for her third baby. The perfect Dad to her twin boys.

It was all unexpected. But sometimes the best things in life are.

Tags @lifespectator @aloneodi @holiday-house-of-m @family-house-of-m @iamnicodemus @russianredassassin @revanshand @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7

[netherworldpost]

Once more social media companies are starting down the path of "hm, what if we roll in a feature... everyone will hate..." so I am again reposting my very basic in progress to being polished HOW TO MAKE A ZINE post

I will expand it when the blog launches and I don't know when the blog launches, but this will get you started. Or at least closer.

...and now...

... a ramble...

For Netherworld Post Office:

I'm going to stay where I am on various platforms

Continue building our "Let's Stay in Touch Occasionally" mailing list

I'm fleshing out a blog that is 2/3rds "slice of life stories of monsters living in paradise stories and comics," 2/3rds "Here is how and what to mail, how to make it fun and vibrant, cheaply" and 2/3rds ramble. Also discount math advisories.

The blog will be on a WordPress site. Free, no subscriptions necessary, open to read.

I'm working on a $2/month (USA postage included, global shipping a bit extra but not much) zine. Full color, 8 pages, decorated envelope, discussing Halloween, mail, and Halloween mail.

Spoiler if you're working on a zine and scrambling "how can that zine be $2?!" we lose about $0.05 - $0.10/zine and this is an acceptable loss. Marketing costs money. The strategy is people will subscribe to the zine and then once or twice a year say "oh wait I need a birthday card, I should get it from Netherworld Post" and that 1-2x year order will cover the loss + add profit to our coffers.

This point is made because I'm not seeking to start a pricing war on zines.

I AM seeking to make something fun and enjoyable and as affordable as possible so as many people as possible will say "huh that's neat."

When the blog goes live and the page about how to make a zine goes live, I'll go into the numbers on how I am making it and offer ideas and tips on how You as a Maker of Things For Sale can make one

I'll also offer tips and ideas on how You as a Maker of Things Not Necessarily For Sale can make it too, it's not exclusively for art shops.

There are no zine laws.

The split is purely "do you care about shaving $0.24 per outbound envelope because you're going to send lots or not"

Here is my reality:

As a person, I enjoy Tumblr. As a business, it's been very good to us.

Our Instagram isn't going anywhere. I'm preparing for the eventual bleed of people using it. Maybe it'll affect us, maybe it won't.

This is NOT a doom-and-gloom EVERYTHING IS DYING post. I'm not nearly online enough or smart enough to offer thoughts beyond general vibes and feelings.

I am saying "enough people have commented enough times they enjoy my business ramblings that I want to share what I know/am doing because I strongly feel a diversification of outlets helps more folk make more art and more folks making more art means there is more art and I'm going to enjoy it."

It takes at least a year -- far more likely a few years -- to build up a sizable social media following.

Sizable = "posting on Platform is more valuable to meeting our goals than Doing Something Else"

You can throw money at the problem (ads and/or hiring a consultant and/or an agency). This will scale you up far faster because they'll build the shortcuts do the research and the yadda yadda.

The reason Netherworld Post Office is able to offer very inexpensive, very high quality greeting cards, at a very low shipping price is because we are largely focusing on "What can we do in-house? How can we get smarter, more clever with our very limited resources?"

We just wrapped up Phase 01 and are about to head into Phase 02 on this plan. It's working well.

Slowly

An agreeable pace but well.

The new app-of-the-day, Cara.

Will it be great? No clue!

Will we post there? Probably not!

Why am I offering this part to the news above? I don't want to gate-keep information I have! Recurring theme to my rambles :)

There is a significant chance that someone who says "It makes sense for my personal goals to make Cara" and then that's great.

The key to building a shop or ongoing project is realizing:

There are many paths available

You have to figure out what path is right for you

It will be a unique combination exclusive to you -- elements can be shared but ultimately every path is going to have it's own unique aspects

This path will change over time

You have to tinker constantly

That's part of the fun :)

Final Link List Now That I Am Done Talking Above Image is My Producer's Reaction When I Finish Talking

Netherworld Post Office shop

Netherworld Post Office Let's Occasionally Stay in Touch email signup

Netherworld Post Office first draft writeup on how to make zines, a tumblr post, because I love zines

Netherworld Post Office final disclaimer for reasons: Your art path is your own, it will look unique to you, it will share elements with many other folks but at the very core? It is unique to you :) All above is shared purely in hopes of giving back to the small art shop community that helped get me to where I am

Cheers everyone

I hope we all make it :)

[bones4thecats]

It's okay can I please ask for riddle Floyd and Jade with kianna komori

I don't know what to really put in this request so the rest is up to you

Kianna Komori! S/O Having Flashbacks

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Floyd Leech, and Jade Leech Requester: @nunezs-stuff A/N: It's so good to hear from you again Nunez! I haven't been using my messaging tool all that much except clearing up some requests for other people. I may message you later when this gets posted. Anyways! If you guys are confused about who Kianna Komori is, just go check out Nunez's posts, she is an OC of theirs so! Now, enjoy <3 ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Mentions of attempted assault, Laito Sakamaki is his own warning, attempted physical harm, and mentioned punishment (if you know, you know) ⚠️

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Riddle Rosehearts ════════════════════════╝

❤️ You were always so quiet, and it's not that Riddle hated that about you! Rather, he liked that. This guy just needs some silence after a long day dealing with Ace and Deuce

❤️ But sometimes your silence made him weary. Sometimes you would be drinking some tea and then stare at the drink with a blank and empty stare, which made the Housewarden nervous before saying your name to snap you out of your daze

"Y/N? Are you alright?" Riddle asked, lightly reaching over and shaking your arm to usher you back to reality.

"Huh- oh, yeah I'm fine." You said, slightly shaking as you laid the cup down and excused yourself, saying you needed to go to the bathroom.

❤️ Over time, this began to become more frequent, and it was starting to make your boyfriend more worried for you as said time passed by

❤️ One day, he had been yelling at a horrible student, one who had tried to assault you one day, and while he yelled at him, he noticed that you had ran off

❤️ Looking into the student's eyes and pointing to his head, he yelled his unique spell before going off to find you

❤️ As he walked around Heartslabyul, Riddle had noticed that Yuu, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Grim, and Trey all were standing outside of the rose maze, a look of concern all present on their faces

"Have any of you seen Y/N?" He asked.

"They went in the maze. I'm pretty sure they were crying. Riddle, what happened?" Trey answered and asked.

"You'll learn later. Thank you by the way."

❤️ Changing from his quick walk to a direct sprint, Riddle began to look around for you, keeping his eyes open. It was known that many could get lost in this maze, but you knew it like the back of your hand. But still, you were crying! Even the smartest people could lose their sense of memory when overwhelmed with emotions

"Y/N! Where are you?" Riddle yelled.

❤️ Hearing sniffs and sobs, the Heartslabyul Housewarden began to carefully walk in the direction of the sound before stopping. You were sitting down, curled up in a ball while you cried, nails digging into your sleeves in an attempt to stay grounded

"...Y/N?"

"Please... don't let him do it again... Yui... please..."

❤️ Yui? Wasn't that the name of your sister that you mentioned from time to time?

"Rose-Petal, are you alright? Did that wretch do anything else?" He asked, attempting to wrap his arm around you without scaring you.

❤️ He's read about assault -even just attempted- victims fearing being touched for a while. So he understood that you may not want to be touched, but he was surprised when you lunged and wrapped your arms around him, crying your eyes out as you rambled a guy's name

"Don't let Laito near me again... please Riddle!"

❤️ Laito? The vampire brother... oh shit

❤️ Despite his better judgement, Riddle closed his eyes and held you, laying on the ground as you cried into his chest. He could care less about the fabric right now, you were what was most important

"Don't worry. He won't be coming by any time soon..."

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Floyd Leech ════════════════════════════╝

🎭 This guy was beyond emotionally unstable, but normally he would tone that down when you came around. And while it was still prominent, it wasn't as bad

🎭 Floyd is also a very possessive person, not liking many others being around his S/O. He just doesn't like it when someone tries to, in his words, 'take' what is his

🎭 One random afternoon, Floyd had decided to search you out after club meetings were over. And despite the fact he was sweaty, he just wanted to find you and cuddle with you in his dorm room

"Y/N~ Where are ya' at?" He sang, walking through the halls nearby your club, Film Research Club, and got more and more upset as he couldn't find you.

🎭 As his negative emotions began to grow, he heard a sound of another angry male coming from a couple halls down. And, in true Floyd fashion, he stalked towards the noise to see what was going on

🎭 And what he saw did not make him any happier

"Why you insolent human! How dare you try harming me! You'll pay for such an attempt!" The black-haired man yelled, raising his hand to strike you down.

🎭 But the thing was, the pain never came. And as you slowly opened your eyes, you saw Floyd standing there, looking down at the Octavinelle first year with a dead-cold expression

"I recommend you start running, because if I catch you... you'll be stuck in a full-body cast the rest of your life."

🎭 As the other guy shivered and ran away in fear, Floyd calmed down in an instant before turning around and looking down at you. But instead of seeing his normally calm and composed S/O, he saw a fearful and appearing traumatized you

"Y/N? Are you good?" He asked, kneeling down to look at you.

🎭 You shivered in fear as you remembered the red-haired vampire, how he would be so self-involved that if you made one mistake, you would be punished. And normally the punishment would leave you more mentally scared than physically

🎭 Floyd noticed how you wouldn't snap out of it, so he pulled out his phone and hit dial on Azul's icon in his phone app, telling him what was going on with you

"Sounds like they're scared beyond recognition. Floyd, listen carefully," Azul began, "Take them to the nurse's ward and have them stay there for the night. They most likely need some time to recuperate. Now, I gotta go, Jade's calling."

🎭 Your boyfriend stood and picked you up gently, and seeing how you didn't flinch but rather grip onto him tightly with your fists balling up his hoodie -since he couldn't bother changing back into his uniform after practice- and leaned onto him, tears falling from your eyes despite your blank expression

"Don't worry, Y/N... you'll be alright. Promise."

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Jade Leech ════════════════════════════╝

🍄 Jade knew there was something off with you when you came back from a meeting with Yuu and the first years, the thing is, he didn't know what the thing was

🍄 But, he was going to find out, even if you didn't want him too -this is Jade Leech we're talking about

🍄 The sound of you knocking on his door made Jade look up from his terrarium and call for you to come inside, you then burst into the room and slam it shut, locking it behind you as he looked with a surprised face

"Y/N, my love, are you okay?"

"He-he's coming for me. He wanted to punish me... just like Reiji... no-no-no... he cannot be back as him..." You mumbled, a layer of sweat donning your head.

"Reiji? What are you going on about?" He asked.

🍄 You kept backing up from the door until a courteous knock came along, making you jump and hide table, making your boyfriend cock an eyebrow confusingly before standing and going to open his dorm's door

🍄 Jade looked down to see a third year standing there, his well-kept black and slightly-grey hair being the first thing that caught the eel's eyes

"What is it you need?"

"Apologies for disturbing you, Vice-Housewarden. But, I noticed that the human, Y/N Komori had come running in here and I am in need of their assistance." The older male answered.

"Assistance with what? Last I heard they had no upcoming projects, nonetheless one with a third year. Would you mind explaining what you need them for?" Jade narrowed his eyes creepily as the other Octavinelle student held his ground.

"I have been struggling with finding a special type of flower that is needed in a potion for class, and they did say I could go with them to find it in the gardens. Now, Y/N-"

"I think not." Jade said.

🍄 Holding his hand on the opposite side of his door, Jade grimaced and picked the flower he knew was necessary for a project coming up, you had mentioned the third-year before, so it was obvious he knew what plant was needed

"I suppose this, the Metus Conditor native to the Shaftlands, is what you're in need of?" He quizzed, holding it within grasp of the now ticked-off male.

"Yes. Thank you, Vice-Housewarden Leech." He answered, a thin layer of hostility and anger being laced in his tone as he spoke.

"It is of no problem. Now, have a good rest of your day."

🍄 Closing the door as the guy walked away, Jade looked back at you as he shivered and held your face in your knees and he sighed, a tint of pity being in his voice

🍄 Instead of speaking, Jade merely walked to his closet, pulling out an old blanket his mother had given him when he was younger. He unfolded the crocheted fabric and walked back up to you, motioning you out with one hand

🍄 As you slowly -since you were still shaken up- crawled out, your boyfriend pulled his bed sheets back and took your hand, helping your shivering form lay down in the bed before covering you in his sheets and blanket

🍄 Leaning down and kissing your forehead in an attempt to calm you down slightly, Jade swore he would find out why that guy really wanted you. No third-year just chases a first-year down for a sad reason as finding a flower which was quite common in the garden and not hard to find

"Get some rest, love. You need it."

(Metus Conditor - latin for Fear Maker)

[mingtinys]

[1:36 a.m.]

pairing : song mingi x gn!reader

angst , hurt / comfort , boxer!mingi

warnings : language , descriptions of wounds & needles , mentions of illegal fighting

word count : 1.3 k

requested ? no

a/n : if you can't tell, the rocky music video still hasn't left my brain

The moment your door swings open, Mingi's aware you're pissed. And not in the "need a moment to cool off" type of pissed. But in the "Mingi might need to hurry up on writing his Will" type of pissed. The unwavering silence that follows only affirms your anger rests specifically with him.

You don't so much as extend a courtesy invite inside. Already having disappeared down the hall in a split second. Not much sense in exchanging pleasantries when you both know why he's here. The purpling bruises and dark crimson stains on his clothes speak for themselves.

He teeters his weight back and forth between his feet, standing awkwardly at your welcome mat. Was he supposed to follow you? You didn't slam the door in his face, but you didn't exactly tell him he could come inside. He hears rustling coming from your kitchen, then the squeak of a faucet being turned on. Ultimately, he decides to seek you out, limping quite pitifully through your quaint apartment. 

When he finds you, you're at the sink, lathering antibacterial soap between your palms. The dining table in the corner is already set with various first aid supplies, along with two singular chairs facing each other. Mingi takes a seat in one of them and waits.

The silence grows thicker with each minute that ticks by. Becoming so palpable Mingi can taste the bitterness of it on his tongue. Even as you take the seat in front of him and begin working away at his wounds, albeit rather impetuously, you say nothing. Your hard-set eyes and cold demeanor aren't exactly helping to lighten the atmosphere either.

He makes it through the length it takes for you to disinfect his cuts and rub ointment on his bruises. But another few minutes pass as you thread a needle and that's about all Mingi’s patience can tolerate.

"You haven't said anything since I got here."

"Am I supposed to have something to say?"

Your tone is callous. And there's a preparedness to it that makes Mingi think you were expecting him to be the first to cave from the silence.

"You usually– ow!" Mingi yelps as you push the needle through the already inflamed skin of his shoulder. You barely even react aside from a not-so-subtle roll of your eyes. And that simple action kills all hope he has of garnering any sympathy from you this time around.

"You usually do."

You sigh, tying off the thread and cutting it before starting on the next stitch. "I can sit here and lecture you about how dangerous this is. How much I want you to stop. How much it hurts seeing you like this." You don't as much as spare him a glance as you speak. "But you and I both know that won't matter."

Another two sutures down. It hurts more than usual tonight.

You pull the thinly woven thread through one last time for the fourth and final suture. "So no, Mingi, I don't have anything to say anymore."

The urge to ramble off one of his usual apologies surfaces, but your chair screeches back and you're standing before he can even get the word "sorry" past his lips. "And you can keep your shitty apologies to yourself this time." Okay then, Mingi thinks and pulls his lips into a thin line to avoid pushing your buttons any further. He simply sits there, speechless as you slap a thick white bandage over his newly sutured wound and return to the sink to wash your hands of his blood.

Realistically, Mingi knew it'd be only a matter of time before you finally reached your breaking point with him. In all honesty, he's surprised it didn't happen sooner, and now he wonders if he'd mistakenly taken your kindness for granted all those times before. Back when he'd show up bloodied and bruised beyond repair from a fight and you'd greet him with teary eyes and a gentleness he'd never known possible.

You used to kiss his wounds better and massage the soreness from his muscles. Scold him for being so wreckless in between your pleads for him to stop fighting until you inevitably fell asleep in his arms from the exhaustion of it all. Not just slap a bandaid on and call it a night. Treating him like an inconvenience to your life rather than the man you'd claimed to love.

And the worst part of it all? He really only has himself to blame for it.

"Go ahead and get yourself killed in that damn ring if you want. But stop dragging me down with you." Mingi looks up to find you hovering above him, your tired eyes staring back at him expectantly. His gaze falls to your open palm, two ibuprofen in the center of it. You huff when he doesn't move to take them and roughly slap the pills on the dining table. 

"Make sure you lock the door when you leave." With that, you're gone. Hurried steps carry you to your room down the hall. Mingi knows he should say something, preferably something that'll soothe your anger. But all his brain can seem to come up with is, "Can I use your shower?"

"Don't care." You call back, and then your door slams shut.

Mingi knows he should leave. He's well aware of just how selfish and unfair what he's about to do is. But he can't stop himself. He wants– no, needs you. Because for as many times as he's dragged himself to your doorstep, it's never been your meticulous medical skills that always make him feel whole again after a fight. No. It's the subsequent hours he spends holding you through the night that heal him. Your warm body curled into his side grounding him to some semblance of a normal, white-picket, life.

No, it's not fair at all. Expecting the same treatment as usual despite having already expressed your desire to have nothing to do with him tonight. Yet still, even as guilt floods his veins and the soreness in his shoulder protests his actions, Mingi grips the handle to your room and pulls.

The cold air hits his damp hair, sending a shiver down his spine. It's dark, and you're already bundled up under the covers. Your face is hidden, so Mingi can't tell if you're awake or not. But you don't immediately tell him to fuck off, so he tiptoes quietly around your room, dodging furniture and other objects concealed by the darkness. Even when the bed dips with his weight and he shuffles under the covers behind you, you say nothing.

Gently, Mingi pulls you into him, back against his chest and his arms hugging your torso tightly. And then he hears it. The tiniest of sniffles that escapes your facade of sleep and buries itself deep within his heart.

He curls around you and his lips delicately press against the feverish skin of your shoulder. A guilt-ridden satisfaction wraps itself around Mingi's airway when you flip yourself around and cling to him. The back of his white cotton shirt bundled up in your fists while you gasp and sob into his chest. Your trembling won't stop, no matter how tightly Mingi seems to hold you.

"I can't keep doing this." You confess. "Please, Mingi."

You don't need to verbalize what you're asking for. You've pleaded with him enough times at this hour for Mingi to fill in the blank himself. And Mingi's given the same answer enough times for both of you to know it's a lie. But he says it anyways, hoping it'll bring enough comfort so you sleep through the night.

"This is the last time, I promise."

[my-my-my]

Could you talk about Aizen"s relationship with Shinji? What he thinks about him? etc

Sure! This ask gave me an itch to reread TBTP because (much to my dismay), I wish we saw Aizen and Shinji interact during TYBW. I hope we see some added content in the anime, but I'm not holding my breath lol.

This is going to be more of a ramble/word dump so I apologize if it's not cohesive!

TW: none!

I'm of the opinion that if there was anyone Aizen wanted to understand him (outside of Urahara), it would have been Shinji. I specifically think about this panel and how interesting it is that Kubo gave Aizen a sad look in his eyes. We don't really see sadness in Aizen, there's only one other scene where I vaguely recall him looking more sad/disappointed (vs him being bored/disappointed).

(This is from Ch -316/TBTP 10)

We know from Shinji's side, he was always wary and somewhat cautious around Aizen. He never trusted him fully and kept him at arms length for everything. On one hand, this leads him to his downfall, but I also read it as Shinji having an immediate gut reaction to not trust Aizen and Shinji could never shake that off. He can be professional with Aizen, but he mentally cannot handle anything beyond that. Something about Aizen felt so fundamentally off to Shinji that he could not get close to him.

So I wonder if this bothered Aizen as well... Aizen is someone who meticulously crafted his persona. He was known to be kind, hardworking and diligent, but something about this persona immediately gave a warning to Shinji.

But I'm not gonna defend Aizen and say he crafted the "perfect" persona - because even he (in a roundabout way) admits he didn't. Even subconscious traits of the "real" Aizen comes through with every interaction Aizen and Shinji would have had with each other, but because of the wall Shinji mentally puts between the two of them, he cannot discern these traits. So while this adds to Aizen's "loneliness complex", it gives him leeway to add in stand-ins with Kyoka Suigetsu. And that's what disappoints Aizen at his core - even his own Captain can't recognize the little things about him.

And this leads me to think that Aizen and Shinji were Lieutenant and Captain for a few centuries at least. We know that at Nanao's graduation from the academy, Aizen was already the Lieutenant of Squad 5:

(Ch. 652/The Theatre Suicide Scene 6)

So yes, Shinji may have had time to "understand" Aizen - but he doesn't. Even at the start of TBTP, Aizen asks Shinji what he's listening to and while Aizen doesn't understand jazz, instead of trying to get to "know" Aizen (even frivously), by asking him "what music do you even listen to then?" he tells him "why did you ask me that then?"

Another thing I noticed is that Aizen (during TBTP) asks a surprising amount of questions (it can be argued though that these are the hypnotized stand-ins asking). He's trying to gain as much knowledge as he can from other people, and Shinji isn't there to answer, or even acknowledge that he's asking questions. It's also "normal" for Aizen to be seen at the library, as Shunsui and the C46 didn't bat an eye at Aizen's alibi. While fundamentally Captain/Lieutenant relationships can really be any sort of dynamic (mentor/mentee, boss and personal assistant), I got the sense that Aizen didn't really "learn" much from Shinji about the ways of Soul Society. Shinji had a tight lip and only shared what needed to be shared likely for work-reasons.

And then there's their shikais! I found it fascinating how both of them have reality-altering shikais. Shinji's shikai being a complete distortion of senses, while Aizen's is subtle manipulation of senses. I don't really have any more to say for that, but I've interpreted this as their way of being honest with people. Shinji's manipulation of senses is very cognizant and deliberate - Shinji is blunt. Aizen's is subtle but traumatizing - you can't trust anything coming from Aizen.

I think though, Shinji's experience with Aizen shaped how he treats his Squad going forward. I have a soft spot for headcanons for how Squad 5 operates post-Aizen's incarceration. Shinji treats Momo much differently than he did with Aizen because he knows what it's like being used and completely victimized by Aizen. There's no point in him being on his guard against someone who was hurt just as badly as he was by Aizen's hand. There is a sense of camaraderie they share in that sense. No one (arguably) "knew" Aizen as much as they did because they worked with him in such close capacity. I'd love to know what lies and truths Aizen shared with them lol.

Sorry again for this ramble, but thank you for this ask! Wish we see/have more Squad 5 content, but alas!