#i expect him to improve but it'll take a while

[washeduphazbin]

Electrifying

Vox x Fem!Reader

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

=_MINORS DNI_=

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Request: Hey! I was wondering if you could do a Vox x feedreader, where he’s in his room with all those TVs, doing his broadcast or something? And the reader comes in and gives him a BJ (smut pls) I changed some things. I hope it's okay. Enjoy you, sinners. ;)

When you were alive, you weren't particularly religious; that's not to say you didn't believe in the concept of heaven or hell, just that you didn't care where you ended up. Your family was religious and cared more about scaring the word of the lord into you than your personal beliefs. In your head, you assumed that it was your anti-religious beliefs that would earn you a one-way ticket to hell. You didn't expect the reason to actually be the fact that you hacked yourself into a secret government database and ended up in prison, only to die in a prison riot that you played a part in. You become a number one target when you can hack the guard's security cameras.

Long story short, you died and woke up in hell. Then you hacked your way into working for one of the most powerful Overlords in hell, specifically by glitching out every one of his broadcasts until he noticed you.

Vox was going to kill you when he found out you were the one fucking up his tech, but you managed to convince him that combining your skills would serve him much better than slaughtering you and wasting your talent. He put your skills to good use; Vox could finally take breaks from constantly patrolling the cameras around Pentagram City and focus much more on improving his already well-renowned tech. It took a lot of sucking up and managing to break into some of whatever radio shops that were left in the city and breaking all the old-timey tech that things finally shifted between your relationship with the Overlord. Destroying those radios caused you to immediately jump on the Radio Demon's shit list, which as a normal Sinner was not ideal.

However, it jumped you up immensely on Vox's Employee of the Month board. In fact, you were almost sure you were his favorite employee ever.

He finally trusted you enough to show you the central hub where he ran his broadcasts, and you moved from ordinary everyday Sinner under contract to Vox's right-hand woman...who was...still under contract...semantics.

From that moment on, you were constantly by his side throughout every single one of his broadcasts. While Velvette might be the backbone of the Vees, you were Vox's hype woman, keeping him out of trouble while encouraging his most chaotic ideas. That's how the two of you remained for a consistent seven years until the Radio Demon hijacked Vox's broadcasts, showing all of Hell he's made his triumphant return.

"I can't fucking believe this, I've spent years building my empire, YEARS, and he thinks he can just take it from me like that? Does he even know who I am?" You watched your boss prepare for his late-night broadcast session, flipping switches and plugging wires into his head while ranting about that deer-faced fuck

"He's not worth it, Sir," You speak softly and notice his shoulders relax at your tender tone. "You've been running Pentagram City for years. At this point, your viewers aren't just going to turn you away for a guy who sounds like he swallowed a microphone instead of a dick." Vox snorted with delighted laughter as he sat down in his studio chair. His claws drumming on his metal table pinging around the studio, you stepped closer and noticed he was still trailing Aslastor's every movement on camera. "May I speak freely?"

He thought briefly before turning his screen to face you, "Well, spit it out then."

"Your 'hatred' for Alastor is boarding on obsessive; it's creepy and- don't give me that look." You huffed, crossing your arms, "You permitted me. Plus, you haven't even heard my suggestion yet."

"And why exactly would I let you suggest anything after your attitude?"

"It'll help you relax," your hands spread across his shoulder pads down his chest, and you could hear his processors running a little louder in embarrassment. "I have lived to serve you since the day you hired me. Let me help you." You purred softly next to his screen, nuzzling against the cool metal; you saw how his claws dug into the table before him, creating claw marks.

"I suppose if you're offering." He leaned back in his chair, wires still connected to the back of his screen; you hummed, moving in front of him. Subtly, very subtly, you pressed the start broadcast button with your fingers. He watched with spiraling eyes as you kissed the side of his screen before kneeling between his legs. You saw sparks of embarrassment erupt from his screen, "wait, what relaxation are we talking about here- fuck!" He cursed, voice glitching in a way he usually used to command attention from his viewers and Val. Your hands gently trailed over his belt buckle as you leaned against his thigh,

"Not yet," You teased softly, "Maybe if you're good." You whisper with a wink, kissing his inner thigh, "Don't you wanna relax?"

"Yes." He commanded you hurriedly before composing himself, "Be a good girl for me, baby. Help me relax."

"Yes, sir." You hummed, unbuckling his belt, and with a click of his metal clasp, his belt was pulled from his pants. You felt cold claws trace your cheek as you looked back up at him through your extended lashes. His screen was glowing a mesmerizing purple hue; he looked briefly awkward,

"Vox, say my name."

"Yes, Vox." You licked your lip, rubbing your thighs together; your fingers pulled and tugged at his pants in a way of asking permission. He gave a single head nod as his slacks were pulled down to his ankles. You heard him suck in through his teeth as you landed forward towards his boxers, admiring the significant hardness in his pants. "Look at you; you're so big already..." You felt drool pooling in your mouth, and he made another strangled electronic sound. "I can't wait to feel you in my mouth." He seemed to gather some confidence back as he gripped your hair, causing you to whine,

"If you're so eager. Then suck." His eyes flashed a plethora of pretty colors, and you felt your willpower drop, hypnosis, your heart skipped a beat as your underwear flooded with your slick. He grinned wickedly as your mouth opened wide, tongue lolling out of your mouth as you took him out of his underwear. His dick was unlike anything you've ever seen. It was long and curved, sticking straight into the air, showing his eagerness for your mouth; blue and red wire-like veins seemed to pulse with need. You leaned forward, nipping gently at his now bare thighs as he hissed in through his teeth before swallowing his length in your mouth. Vox groaned, a static sound; as soon as your hot mouth swallowed him, sparks from the monitors singed your skin. You smiled, knowing that his sounds and your actions were being broadcast for all of hell to see and hear, and he was none the wiser.

You felt his claws dig into your hair, pulling you forward, forcing you to take him deeper down your throat. You groaned around him and began to suck as deep as you could take him down your throat. "Fuck baby, fuck." He hissed as you looked up at him through half-lidded lashes, opening your mouth wider and running your tongue on the wire veins underneath his dick. He shuddered and choked back a moan as you pulled back. You began to kitten lick along the sensitive tip, swallowing the blue precum that was forming at the slit. He shuddered, the screen glitching a few times as it flashed different frames and colors. "Don't stop now; you're just getting better." He grinned crookedly, petting your hair like a pet; you gave him a look. He snickered, urging you forward back onto his dick,

"I'm going to make you cum so hard, your blue screen." You purred, licking your lips, gathering spit in your mouth before taking him as deep as your throat would allow. He was heavy in your mouth and throat, filling it even though he wasn't thick. His tip hit the back of your throat as you choked around him. He moaned heatedly, eyes squeezing shut as he jolted as you suctioned your lips around him. He was close, and you could tell his hips began to twitch as he attempted to fuck your throat. You took that as a sign to place your hand on his balls, squeezing them and caressing them through your hands; you were rewarded with an even louder moan and a shout of your name. "That's it, baby, I'm so close, harder. fuck you're such a good girl." That seemed to do it as you moaned around his cock, the vibrations sending shockwaves through him as he shot his load down your throat, which you swallowed eagerly.

He tasted like you swallowed a packet of blue raspberry pop rocks.

You pulled off of him, licking your lips, and noticed his entire body was slack, face completely blue, sparks shooting out the back of his head. You giggled, turning to the screens and seeing yourself on camera; you hummed, hiking up your skirt and giving a little bow to the audience before ending the broadcast. You and Vox's phones were blaring with messages nonstop; you picked up Vox's while he was rebooting. You opened it quickly, remembering his passcode from when he told you to monitor Val's activities with the tracker he placed on the Moth. There were notifications from social media and Vox tech itself, which you promptly swiped away so Vox couldn't see them immediately when he rebooted. About a hundred texts from Velvette and Valentino in the Vees shared group chat.

Velvette was screaming about all the social media images she'd have to wipe to protect Vox's image and how much of an idiot he was for not double-checking that he wasn't on air. While Val was giving a rating while sending a play-by-play and ranking your technique, begging Vox to let him use you in his next shoot. You giggled, leaning down to snap a picture of you with a still rebooting Vox and sending it to the other Vees before throwing the phone away. If things go well, he'll fuck you on air next; worst case scenario, you'll double die, known as one of the best dick suckers in hell, probably only second to Angeldust.

[burntoutdaydreamer]

3 Steps to Improve Your Characters and Make Them Three-Dimensional

So I don’t have a process for creating/developing characters (to me the process is intuitive to the point where I wouldn’t even know how to explain it), but I do have a process for revising characters that just… fall flat, for whatever reason. 

I like to get to know my characters by throwing them into a bunch of different situations and seeing how they react, but sometimes that’s not enough. In these cases I need to go back to the drawing board and figure out how to make them not feel like a cardboard caricature of the role I need them to fill. Here’s the process I use, and it involves three key questions to understand what makes your character tick.

1) What is this character’s fundamental belief- either about the world or themself?

2) Where does this belief come from?

3) How does this belief hinder them, and are they capable of growing past it?

Alright, here’s what the process looks like in action. 

Let’s say I have a character I need to flesh out for my story.

Character A is a middle aged coffee shop owner and the protagonist of her story. The central conflict of the story revolves around trying to save the family run coffee shop she inherited from her father when he passed away, which has recently fallen on hard times.

What is this character's fundamental belief?

Character A believes that the world is an inherently good and fair place. She believes that good is always rewarded and bad is always punished, even if the timing isn't always perfect. As such, she strives to live a virtuous life, putting as much good into the world as she possibly can. While she understands that even good people can face hard times, she believes that in the long term, if things don't work out, it'll be because she didn't put in the work needed to turn things around.

Where does this belief come from?

Character A grew up in a solidly middle class household with good parents that treated her well- rewarding her for good work, and fairly punishing her for misdeeds. Her parents gave her everything she needed, but also expected her to work hard for the things she wanted. She also had the experience of watching her father build a successful business through hard work and by building strong connections with the people in town. If we want to push this further, we could also say that this belief was reaffirmed by watching her brother ruin his own life, squandering all his money and goodwill with those around him on failed get-rich-quick-schemes and outright scams that landed him in jail.

How does this belief hinder them, and are they capable of growing past it?

Let's say that Character A recently hired a barista who seems perfect for the job. Strapped for help, she gets him started right away before getting the results of his background check. When the results come in, she finds out that he is on probation and was recently released from jail for a violent crime. Shocked, she fires him. Believing that people who end up in jail always deserve it, she can't see past her initial prejudices. As a result, her coffee shop suffers from the loss of her new star barista.

Some time goes on, and Character A encounters the barista again, and learns more about the circumstances that landed him in jail (maybe he was falsely convicted, maybe he was battling psychosis, maybe the violent act was done to prevent a loved one- anything that makes her question her initial assumptions). He then confesses that he is struggling to provide for himself and his family because no one will hire him because of his criminal record. Character A comes to realize that her belief isn't completely true, and that the world isn't entirely fair. Though it takes a lot of inner work to do so, including coming to terms with her privilege, she eventually accepts this, and revises her beliefs. She decides that even though the world isn't fair, people have the responsibility to make it fair.

She decides to re-hire the barista she fired. After doing everything she can to make things right with him, she proposes an idea she wants his help with. Together, they transform her family business into a joint coffee shop and community rehabilitation center. In addition to selling coffee, they also launch a program to provide resources to recently incarcerated individuals looking to reenter society. They'll host weekly events on job interview coaching, alcoholics anonymous, motivational speeches, group therapy, opportunities to connect with open-minded employers, and more. Their promotion of this new program enables them to secure funding from local patrons and public grants, and customers are willing to pay for more expensive coffee with the knowledge that that money will be put to good use.

Additionally, if we want to go with the brother in jail backstory, we could have this ending be an opportunity for her to reconnect with him and maybe even repair their relationship as she gets to see him in a new light.

Main Takeaways

And there you have it!

You can use this process on any character- protagonist, antagonist, side character, etc. By grounding your character's motivations and development in their beliefs, you can easily introduce depth and internal conflict while keeping everything connected to the themes and plot driving your story.

Depending on your character's role or your story's plot, the belief can be wide reaching and complex (such as a philosophy or ideology), or specific and personal (such as having to do with their self-esteem). Either way, it should always be tied to their personal experiences or observations. This doesn't necessarily mean a tragic backstory. It could be, but I encourage you not to make this your default way of creating character depth. A mundane but grounded and sincere motivation will always be more compelling than cheap, dark shock factor.

Generally, protagonists with happy endings and villains with successful redemption arcs are capable of moving past their beliefs, while tragic heroes and antagonists aren't, and this failure is usually the source of their downfall. Keep in mind that even if characters do move past their old beliefs, it will always be a difficult thing to do. It will require them to confront their own mistakes, biases, and emotional wounds, and require both internal and external work in order to fix whatever their old beliefs have damaged.

Hopefully this guide will help you approach your characters from a different perspective. Feel free to share any insights.

Happy writing y'all!

[merlinmarvelandother-oneshots]

Sorry, I meant to send an ask yesterday, but I got carried away 😅

So what about ut, us, uf and ht (you can ignore the last one if you want to don't worry) and how they would be with a reader that hides the fact that they're physically hurt.

Maybe they went hiking with the skellie, and they tripped and pretended that it was only a little scratch when days later they see quite a big wound that's infected.

It's a bit gross, so it's okay if you don't do it, don't worry :)

Have a good day/night and be safe

-💀

UnderTale, UnderSwap, UnderFell, and HorrorTale skellies react to a reader hiding that they're injured

you had gotten in a little tussle with a fallen branch walking home. you were completely oblivious, and tripped right over it. it hurt to walk on, and you soon noticed it swelling. it wasn't... sprained, right? nah, of course not! you brushed it off, thinking that it would be just fine in a day or two.

but until then, you might want to put some ice on that.

and so you did. for three days, with no sign of improvement. you tried keeping it a secret, but then your s/o came home while you were putting ice on it, right on the couch beside the door, and...

UnderTale:

Sans:

-he walks into the house, immediately heading for the couch.

-"hey, y/n, i'm ho- you alright? what happened to you?"

-"oh! sans, hi, i didn't expect you home so early!" you wave frantically to draw his eyes away from your ankle.

-"yeah... work was slow, so i came home. whats going on? you're acting weird."

-"pshh, don't be silly, nothing's wrong! absolutely nothing!"

-he sighs.

-"my whole shtick back in the underground was that i can see peoples stats. your HPs lowered, you're acting really awkward about your leg, and you're trying to hide an ice pack from me. i know, i saw it when i walked in. so, im gonna ask you again. whats going on?"

-you sighed. he caught you, he always did.

-"i dont know what's up. I tripped a few days ago and my ankle just started swelling. I'm gonna give it a few more days before I see a doctor, just to see if it heals on its own."

-"alright then," really? that's it? not going to insist you see someone? well, that's great for you! "I'm going to grillby's. wanna come?"

-you nodded your head.

-"cmon, let's take a shortcut."

-he took you to the fucking ER.

Papyrus:

-you look up after hearing the door open and you heard a crash.

-he had gone grocery shopping, apparently, because his bags were sprawled on either side of him on the floor.

-his jaw was only half hinged, that's how bad you scared him.

-as in it dropped. almost fully.

-he suddenly runs to your side (re-hinging his jaw on the way) and kneels by your side.

-"HUMAN, what ever is the matter? is it serious? does it hurt? will it need stitches? should i take you to-"

-"Paps! i'm okay. i think it's just sprained, i'll be alright," you tries to reassure him.

-"SPRAINED? oh, HEAVENS no, i must take you to the doctor right away!"

-you sigh. "Papyrus, it isn't that big of a deal. i'm sure it'll be alright in a few days."

-"absolutely not! what if it's worse than you think? it could kill you!"

-he really thought a sprained ankle could kill you? he may be clueless about human injuries, but at least he cares!

-you don't have too much time to reply before he picks you up, puts you in the car, buckles you up (because heaven forbid something ELSE happen to you, ESPECIALLY under his watch) and brings you to the ER.

UnderFell:

Sans:

-he literally did not notice.

-he grumbles a quiet, "hey," before trotting upstairs into his room.

-it isn't until several days later when the pain has worsened and you cannot walk on it that he asks what the fuck is going on.

-you explained that you had tripped a few days ago, and it got swollen, and you thought that it would just go away, but it's been getting worse and worse since it happened.

-"fuckin' idiot," he groaned. "i'm dating a goddamn moron! alright, get in the car. i'm takin' you to a hospital."

-he's groaning the entire way.

Papyrus:

-as soon as he lays eyes on you, he sighs.

-"what did you do this time?"

-what the hell did he mean, 'this time'? he CANNOT be holding you accountable for that one time you got a concussion! that was HIS fault!

-"hey! you BETTER not be talking about-"

-"about the concussion," he cut you off. "yes, yes, i'm aware, you believe that incident to be my doing. however, i can GUARANTEE that this is not! now, tell me what happened. i expect a full explanation."

-you rolled you eyes and told him, feeling a little pissed off about his crossed arms and tapping foot, although you couldn't fully blame him. the whole situation WAS a little silly, now that you have to say it out loud.

-he scoffed when you finished talking. such a silly thing! why the HELL didn't you immediately see a doctor? swelling is NEVER normal!

-how did he, a skeleton monster who had gone most of his life without so much as seeing a human, know more about human anatomy than a fully grown human adult?

-and how did he, an esteemed member of the royal guard, end up in a relationship with such a fool?

-"get yourself looking decent. we are visiting the hospital to get you proper treatment."

-'looking decent', you looked fi-! no, you didn't, nevermind.

UnderSwap:

Sans:

-"hey, y/n, Alphys let out training early, so i'm back! what are you doing?"

-you scrambled to hide the ice pack and hike your pants back over your ankle. "oh, uh. . . nothing," you said sheepishly in reply, a fake grin appearing on your face.

-"oohhhh, no no no. i know that look. you're hiding something. best be honest now."

-damn him! how DARE he know you so well!

-"i think i did something to my ankle," you muttered.

-"hmm. . . let me see."

-he walked over and inspected your ankle for a few moments.

-"it looks sprained. when did this start?"

-"a few days ago. i tripped and it started swelling."

-he gave your ankle ankther quick look.

-"and why didn't you tell me?"

-"well, i thought it would go away at first. i was going to tell you, if it didn't. i was just going to wait a few days."

-"well, there's no need! i'm taking you to a doctor."

-he helped you stand and let you use him as something like a crutch, so you wouldn't have to put too much weight on your injured foot.

Papyrus:

-you look up to see him standing, eyebrows furrowed (you know what i mean sans does it in the main game) looking at you.

-"anything you want to tell me?"

-"ah, nothing. . . i'm just gonna go to a doctor if this doesn't start getting better."

-you knew the look he was giving you. he wanted to know what happened.

-"i tripped a few days ago and my ankle started swelling. nothing major. it's just a little sore."

-"mmm. i'm sure. you have five minutes, then i'm taking you to a doctor," he said as he laid on the couch beside you.

-"no, Paps, there's really no need-" you were interupted by snoring. but you knew that didn't mean you were off the hook. he would be awake in five minutes EXACTLY, whether you were ready to go or not.

HorrorTale:

Sans:

-he kinda just stands there for a few moments after he sees you with the ice pack.

-ice pack means something's wrong, because he doesn't see food around, but his skull injury makes figuring anything else out difficult.

-ice pack. . . on your ankle. . .

-it doesn't matter what's wrong. he just knows something is. so, he comforts you! in the only way he knows how!

-which is a BONE-CRUSHING hug.

-and because you're sitting, and he's standing over you, leaning down to hug you, it's a very awkward angle. leading to a lot of bones jabbing into uncomfortable places.

-you know you can't really do anything to get him off of you, so you just wait it out.

-"i'm alright, Sans. it isn't anything major. i'm about to go to a doctor!"

-he was going to tell you to anyway. you just got that part out of the way.

-his time in the underground under Undyne's rule made him very paranoid about the health of those he loves, so no matter how big the injury, you MUST see a doctor.

-it's not up for debate.

-he drives you because he doesn't want you to have to put any more strain on your ankle.

-(should he even have a drivers license? questionable...)

Papyrus:

-he has a puzzled look on his face.

-that. . . he suspected that wasn't a good sign.

-"y/n. . . i don't suppose you want to tell me what is going on?"

-"oh," you nervously laughed. "no biggie. just tripped a few days ago, it kinds hurts. if it doesn't feel better tomorrow i'm seeing a doctor."

-"hmm. i shall hold you to that."

-you laughed. you bet he would.

-spoiler alert, he did.

(a/n: sorry if this is totally inaccurate to having a sprained ankle, it just seemed like a good scenario, and i was too in the writing groove ((once i actually started)) to do much research)

[mouschiwrites]

the creeps!!

how about... creeps x reader who is having a ptsd response due to something/someone from their before life?

your choice!

EEE thank you for giving me a little freedom with this one hehe, you're a doll <33 (hope these are okay; I realize these aren't exactly "comforting" but these guys are messed up,, I don't think you can really expect comfort from them lol)

!!TW!! for depiction/mention of PTSD! Proceed with caution lovelies!!

Creepypasta/MH: How They React When Your PTSD is Triggered

Characters: Jeff the Killer, Clockwork, Jane the Killer, "Ticci" Toby, Tim/Masky

Jeff the Killer

I'm going to be so real with you, his first response is not going to be to comfort you

He is going to kill whoever triggered you, or burn it if it's not a person

You can try to stop him, but he's not going to

Honestly he might lowkey be making it worse, doing it right there and then with you watching

Well, he'll probably tell you to close your eyes and plug your ears first

(But if you want to participate, he'll just say: "let me do this for you, babe.")

All you'll know is that one minute it's/they're there, and the next Jeff is taking you by the shoulders and leading you away quickly

Just ignore the char/blood on his hoodie

He'll ask if you want to talk about it while you're walking

If you decline he'll ask again when you're back home

While he doesn't really need a reason to kill for you, he still wants to know what that scumbag did (or just what happened)

If you're mad at him for what he did, he's not going to care

In his eyes, he did the right thing, and he's not going to apologize for it

Anything that hurts his love deserves to perish, if not for their sake then for his

He can't stand the thought of someone/something that makes you unhappy existing in this world

If you ever stress about it again, he will actually focus on you, holding you, consoling you by repeating "they're/it's gone, they/it won't hurt you anymore..."

There's an eerie smugness to his voice as he says it...

Clockwork

I feel like you guys would've already talked about your trauma

She's prone to attacks too, so it was a mutual discussion about triggers/what helps/what doesn't

So she knows exactly what's going on when you're triggered

Her first concern is you, trying to quell the attack before it gets too bad

She'll do something you told her helps ASAP

It'll make her feel better if you let her stay with you, but she understands if you need space

What she'd really like is to hold your hand and get your mind off of it by talking about something else

She'd be fine if she was the only one talking

Just as long as you're showing signs of improvement

When the attack is over, she'll give you time to process it

But eventually she will want to bring it up again

Specifically, she wants to make plans to... uh... "eliminate" the thing that triggered you

And those plans will be vividly detailed

If you don't want to take part in that, she'll make them (and execute them) herself

She just thought you'd wanna take part; I mean, it's how she """solved""" her trauma

She won't follow through if you explicitly tell her not to, but otherwise she operates under the assumption that this is a plan, not a fantasy

When you have another attack, she won't talk about how it/they can't hurt you anymore; she'll just focus on doing the things you said helped

Jane the Killer

She's pretty good at observing people, so I think she'd be able to sense your attack early on

Even if she doesn't know about your PTSD

The first thing she does is remove you from the situation, wrapping an arm around you and rushing away

She sends the meanest scowl to anyone who looks at you funny while you go

Then she focuses on grounding you; she's not too good with feelings, but she's logical enough to try and figure something out to help you

She won't talk much; just an occasional "breathe with me" or "focus on me" while she holds your hands and maintains eye contact

It doesn't show but she's actually so nervous, she has no idea if she's really helping you

She'll be right there with you through the worst of it, and she'll be there if you want to talk after

She will want to know what caused it, if she hasn't figured it out already

I honestly don't think she'll want to "eliminate" it/them

But she will talk the nastiest, goriest, most illegal shit about it/them

She gets all giddy when you grin about it too; internally she's going yeah!! made them smile!! (happy dance)

She'll try not to bring it up intentionally, but whenever it does come up she makes sure to express her strong distaste

If you ever actually want to... take care of things, she'll help with the cleanup, but she'll want you to have the satisfaction of planning and doing it yourself

I mean, she dreams of having that satisfaction herself (looks at Jeff)

Regardless of whether or not you want to do something illegal, ultimately she respects that it's your trauma and you get to deal with it however you like

"Ticci" Toby

Murder. Arson.

Literally his knee-jerk reaction

He just looks between you and the suspected trigger, points a thumb in its direction and says: "Want me to kill that guy/light that thing up?"

If you say yes he'll do it straight away; he doesn't care who's watching

He'll ask if you want to help first though ofc

Then he'll run away giggling like a second grader, grabbing your hand on the way

When you slow down he sighs satisfactorily, saying how fun that was

If you're still distressed (or if you refused his earlier offer), he finally takes notice of your emotions

He'll ask you quite bluntly what's wrong

When you explain it to him, he just nods solemnly

He knows from experience that having a rough past sucks, so he understands completely

If you haven't already he suggests that you "take care of it"

But if you agreed to murder/arson earlier he just grins again and says "Well then it's good that we did that back there!"

If you ever have an attack again he'll either remind you that the thing/person is gone, or he'll nag you about "taking care of it"

He'll begrudgingly put an arm around you though when you don't immediately calm down

He might offer you something to fidget with, too; that always helps him when he's anxious

Just try not to be too alarmed when it's a box cutter or a butterfly knife or something weird that he puts in your hand

Tim/Masky

I feel like he'd be a little awkward when you start to panic

He'll panic a little too, asking what's wrong and if/how he can help

He'll do anything you say, but if you're unable to respond he just puts his arm around your shoulders and takes you into another room

He'll hug you against him, patting your back awkwardly while you process the attack

He doesn't know what else to do :(

He probably realizes what's happening after a few minutes, and he only gets more awkward when that happens

He sucks at dealing with his own trauma; he is literally the worst person for you to be with right now

At least that's what he thinks

When you start to calm down he asks if you want to talk about it, but then immediately curses himself for asking such a stupid question (he doesn't even want to talk about his trauma; why should anyone else? (just his thoughts))

If you do want to talk it turns into a very deep and candid discussion in which you both open up a bit

He'll ask if there's anything that helps at all

Honestly he's asking for you as much as himself; he'd love to try anything that works for you

I don't think he'd suggest or condone killing/destroying the trigger; from his experience that just brings more issues

He'll basically just tell you "yeah, it sucks, and we just have to deal. Which sucks times two."

Very helpful, thank you Tim 👍

At least he always holds you whenever you have an attack <3

Thank you so much for this request!! And thanks for reading, take care sweethearts <33

(divider by saradika)

[misshugs]

It'll be alright || Colby Brock

[inspired] "feels like i'm always apologizing for feeling."

[req by anon] At the end of the day, it seems that the ones you least expect are the ones that are always by your side at your worst.

warnings: shy/introvert!reader, mentions of self-abandonment, angst, self/degrading, cursing, anxiety, hurt/comfort?

a/n: i'll prolly do the banner soon enough, also not proofread at all so if there's something that sounds.. weird, my bad ;; i'll fix it eventually

word count: 4.6k [u n e d i t e d]

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You knew it wasn't quite healthy for you disregard your own feelings like this, but you got so used to it.

You hid them so well at times, you feared you weren't even being honest with yourself.

Being a people pleaser wasn't something you wanted to do, but somehow managed to end up being. You never really wanted to make people upset, so you tried your best to help out as much as you could whenever you were able to.

Turning out like this also lead to friends that weren't really there for you, but you were always there for them.

You always were.

Even when they made fun of you, whenever they asked you for so many favours you knew you weren't going to get back, you were always there. You persisted in this so called "friendship" merely because they seemed to actually like hanging out with you.

At least it's what you thought at the time.

And honestly, who could blame you? Although it was most certainly a toxic friendship, they genuinely added you to most conversations. It wasn't as if you were only there to fill up the background most of the time.

Right?

"Hey babes, would you mind buying us some drinks?"

"Buying? Soph, I'm not even drinking tonight, I-"

"Really? You're going to do this to us? After we've invited your ass here? You're really trying to make us look bad?" She spat back, making you nervous.

It's all too familiar.

This has happened too many times for your comfort, and it always seemed to work in their favour; even when you tried to avoid it.

"N-no! I'm just saying that you could-" She put a hand infront of you.

"Shush. God, you're making my ears bleed." She whined before getting closer to your face. "Look, you go over there and ask for five shots of tequila, m'kay? Be a good one for me tonight, it also might improve your own reputation so, you know, stop talking and start moving honey. Tap tap." Her cunning smile and slight push on your shoulder made your heart race in an abnormal speed.

You really didn't want to. You really shouldn't, actually. But they were your friends, weren't they? You're doing this because they're friends.

Yeah, well. Keep telling yourself that lie.

Walking towards the bar and waiting for the drinks, there was this guy waiting right beside you. He looked at you with an amused smirk.

"Five? That's impressive."

"They're not for me." You responded with a half smile.

"Not even one?" He raised a brow, gaining a slight shake of your head as a response. "Sucks. Can I buy you one then?"

You look back at him, now with an amused expression yourself. Taking out his card and giving it to the barista before even letting you pull out your wallet, you looked at his deep, blue eyes.

"Bill's on me this time. Looks like you need a little break." He whispered, a small wink quickly after.

"Well, thank you, kind stranger." You said, taking all of the shots with you and looking back at him.

"Colby." He answered, trying to give you a handshake only to see your hands full and laugh. "Right."

You giggled. "I'm Y/n. Thank you again, Colby." And so, you walked away.

Sam, walking towards Colby after watching his obvious intend of flirting with you, putting his hand on his shoulder and said while looking at you walk away.

"You should've helped her dude."

"Ah, shit."

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"God, I can't believe I still invite you to these, you're so ungrateful." She sobbed, "After all you've done to us I still invite you regardless, and this is how you repay us? Your friends?"

You paused, looking slightly down while the dramaqueen infront of you began fanning her eyes and looking up, trying to not ruin her perfect makeup with her fake tears. You tried to restrain your own feelings, closing your hand into a fist, feeling yourself getting frustrated by the second.

The word friends ached in your heart for the very first time, and you knew it wasn't a good sign. "Sorry." You whispered, basically apologizing for feeling. Again.

In the end, you were still too shy to try and confront yourself to her. You knew you would lose, even though you've already created a million different ways of repelling every single one of her insults.

She was too predictable, too easy to contradict. But she had something you didn't.

Confidence.

Maybe if it weren't for the dozens of people that could be staring straight through you, you might be able to have a chance. Even then, you knew better. You get nervous too easily to try and spat back shit to this princess. Slowly but surely, you were starting to lose hope in this so called friendship you had with her and her other dogs.

Or maybe it was already gone, you just didn't want to admit it to yourself.

You were tired.

The stress, the anxiety that was draining you was too much. It wasn't worth it, and you knew it.

What made you keep going? Was it because you were comfortable? Did you not want to try something new? Were you too accustomed to their presence that it made it hard to walk away? Yeah, most likely.

"I can't with you today. You're such a meanie." Soph argued, turning away. "Do whatever you fucking want. Get lost or whatever, I'm not taking you home." She walked away with her group. Their judgemental glares were enough to carve a hole in your heart.

It wasn't only them, but the people that got a glimpse of the situation began murmuring. The feeling of being watched, judged and laughed at by strangers. An unbearable, overwhelming feeling that stopped you in place. You were feeling yourself loose air, your hands shaky at the mere thought and paranoia you were collapsing yourself with.

On the mere edge of tears, you felt a hand on your shoulder, making you jump in surprise. "Oh, my bad." They laughed. A familiar male voice released you from the thoughts. You looked at his face. Colby. "Didn't mean to scare you. Saw you all alone so I passed by to say hello. You doing okay?" He smiled.

Somehow, that smile is all you needed. Your eyes fluttered while you fixated your vision on his pretty face. You smiled back. "Yeah, yeah. Doing good." You tried to compose yourself once again.

Surprisingly, it was easy because of him. His jokes, flirty comments and pretty smile made you completely forget how you were on the edge of a panic attack barely a few hours ago.

"I'll be honest with ya. Last time? You made me so shy that I was going to ask for your number then completely forgot up until it was already too late." He laughed, so contagious that it made you giggle back. "Would you mind giving me a chance of texting you once in a while? Of course, if you don't mind."

"Yeah, sure, I don't mind." You gave him your number. A part of you hoping it wasn't yet another prank that would make you break into despair, but at the same time, you wanted to believe. You still had hope; not everyone is bad. Right?

After passing numbers, you notice the time in your phone. "Ah, shit. I should be leaving, it's too late." You stood up from your seat, fixing yourself up.

"Oh, well, are you driving?" He asked, standing up after you.

"Oh... um. I guess I'll have to call an uber, since my... friend will probably be staying." You mumbled slightly, remembering that bitter memory from not so long ago.

"Mind if I drive you home then?" A soft smile on his face; a sincere one. You looked at him, dazed for a moment. "...Is... Is that a yes?"

"Oh, uh... are you sure? I wouldn't want to bother you." You respond quickly.

"Bother me? Not at all. You've been my light of the party tonight." He laughs at his own statement. "Come on, let's get you home, sweetheart." He followed, putting his hand at your upper back, walking you towards the exit.

You didn't argue about it. In fact, you preferred to leave as quickly as possible, and he was giving you that chance. It was nice, it felt nice to have what you wanted for a change, even if it was as simple as leaving a party sooner than later.

After an annoyingly quick ride back home, you thanked him prefusely before walking back into your appartment.

Tonight took a toll on you emotionally; feeling dread and such a big pleasure at the same time. After a much needed shower and a midnight snack, you heard your phone.

A text? Who would even text you this late at night? You started questioning if it was Soph or one of the other girls, only to soothe the rising stress when you saw the text from a new contact.

Hey, it's Colby. Hoping you didn't give me a wrong number

It made you chuckle while responding right away.

I'm not the type to do that, don't worry

Oh, I'm glad, would've been heartbroken if you did

Did you go back to the party?

Nah, went straight home. The friend that was with me said he was going to stay longer but I went home

Why did you not go?

The life of the party left

Who?

You?

You rolled your eyes at the comment. This cheeky bastard.

You loved it.

Talking for a few more minutes, your eyelids began to close on their own. Your sleep schedule catching up to you.

It didn't take long until you fell asleep.

After some weeks, your supposed friends stopped texting you. One or two parties where you were left uninvited. It didn't bother you much, but at the same time, you were thinking of what you were missing; overthinking around the way it would've turned out great.

But also how wrong it could've been.

It was almost 11 pm, you've been watching the stories of your friends having fun without you. Nothing new, until a text from Colby made it change.

Haven't seen you at the party

Your heart ached. Someone expecting you was something... new. You were blaming yourself, even though it wasn't really your fault.

Kinda sick. Couldn't go.

Aw, that sucks. Hope you get well soon

It felt wrong to do this, but at the same time, nothing new to you. Trying to cover up the true feelings behind the kind smile you always put up.

Thank you.

A couple of minutes passed before another answer came through.

Party's getting boring, wish you were here

Trying to hype me up, Colby?

Is it working?

A little.

You smiled at his small attempts. He's been texting you enough to know there's been a distance between your group of friends. Some personal information between the both of you getting mixed up through conversations, getting to know eachother in a more personal level.

Him, having such an odd job being a 'ghosthunter' and (somehow worst, or maybe better?) he had proof of it. You, on the other hand, another slave to capitalism. Even worse, a slave to a more toxic relationship than your ex boyfriend. Your friends.

Usually, you wouldn't be the type to open up like this; but one thing turned into another and now here we are. A stranger that knows you better than every single person that's passed by your life, merely because he's asked the right questions at the right time. A master with words.

Sooo can we be honest then? Are you actually sick?

I'm impressed at how well you've come to know me.

Figured. You coming to the party then?

I wasn't invited.

How come? I'm inviting you right now

What?

I can take a plus one with me

I want you to be my plus one

…are you serious? I'm not even like, ready or anything.

Are you even sure? I'm not fun.

Take your time sweetheart. Tell me when I'm able to pass by

Also what do you mean you're not fun? Take that back right now

Your cheeks felt warm. You've come to learn to read emotions though text as the time passed by; knowing when you were really not wanted or knowing when somebody else was interested in things outside your circle.

This, however. These texts from this... guy. They felt genuine.

…

Thank you

It's really no biggie, I want you to come with me (if you want, of course)

So put on something sexy

For the party, of course

You chuckled at the comment. You weren't able to fully comprehend if he was being serious or just as flirtatious as always. But you didn't mind. Right now, you were about to go into a party. Why? God knows.

Maybe you do too, but you wouldn't like to admit it.

Not now, at least.

Standing up and walking toward your wardrobe, you skimmed through it. What should you wear? Something normal as always? Is it even worth it to try and switch it up for a change? You never really tried to make yourself look appealing, there was no reason to anyways.

But this time? Fuck it. It was different. You weren't going with them, you were going with him. You sighed, pushing yourself to wear the most decent looking dress you could find in your closet; fitted with some high heels the same color of the dress.

Finishing off your makeup, you saw your phone light up.

I'm here, take your time

Panicked, you replied.

Thought you were going to wait for me to finish??

I am?

Not in front of my house???

We can leave right away when you're done

Stop arguing, I don't mind waiting here

Come inside at least

Don't mind if I do then

Sighing, you looked at yourself in the mirror. You weren't going to take longer than 5 minutes, but you felt bad leaving him outside. Walking towards your front door, you gulped down the nerves and opened up the door.

He was as fine as always, looking down at his phone before raising his head and looking at your face. His mouth opened slightly, unable to move for a moment.

You were stunning in his eyes. Looking at you up and down, he had to catch his own breath. How was he this lucky to be able to be next to this beauty?

"Is it... too weird? I'm not the type to commonly use these type of clothes..." You almost whispered, doubting your looks.

"You're kidding." He was able to respond. "I've never seen someone look this beautiful." You smiled and rolled your eyes. "I'm serious. Are you seriously not aware."

"Not aware of what?" You asked, a slight frown on your face due to the confusion.

"Of how gorgeous you look?" The frown quickly turned into a surprised look, your cheeks turning red at the revelation.

Hugging slightly your door to try and find comfort, you looked away from his graze. "Get in, I'm still not done." You said and be obliged. Closing the door behind him, you told him to get comfortable while you finished yourself up.

It didn't take you long, fortunately. A few fixes around the eyes and you were basically done. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you were satisfied with yourself this time. You didn't feel forced, heck, you felt beautiful. Perhaps it was Colby's comments that affected your mental state, but whatever it was, it felt good.

Walking back towards the man in your living room, you heard him whistle at you, which made you laugh.

"I'm gonna have so many death stares walking with you tonight."

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Nervousness filled you up when you walked inside the party. Holding onto Colby's arm, he could feel your hand shaking. He gave you a reassuring look, one that said "Everything's going to be fine."

And you tried to believe it as much as you could.

Whatever you seemingly expected from the night somehow turned into the greatest parties you've ever experienced.

Perhaps it was because you were with Colby's friends instead of yours.

Maybe it was the fact that you were actually connected into their conversation instead of being pushed out. Being listened to instead of ignored and getting talked over.

Was this what it felt to be having fun? You almost forgot this was what it's supposed to be like. It felt nice.

"I'll be right back. Gotta to to the bathroom." You said standing up from your seat.

"I'll go and get some drinks in the meantime. Anyone wants a refill?" Colby asked, nodding at the requests he was receiving. You smiled at him before walking away.

You were quick in finding the bathroom, finishing what you had to do soon enough and getting out of the room.

Before you started walking towards the group, you got pushed away and in the center of a bunch of girls, smirking at you. Judging you. Your heart sank as fast as you recognized just one of them.

"Who do we have here?" Soph teased, a sly smirk on her face. "Isn't it too late for you? Thought you would've been at home. It's past your bedtime, isn't it?" Laughs were heard from the group surrounding you.

No, no, no. This wasn't a good time for this. You were having fun, you were doing so good! You've never felt better at a party and now all of it was destroyed.

"It's none of your business, Soph." You could hear a gasp after your response. A dramatic, opened mouthed expression on her face.

"Oh, so, now that you've found a new stupid little group of freaks now you think you can talk back at me?" She spat out.

You looked slightly to the side. "You just called yourself a freak." You thought, unable to actually argue back. You felt a hand on your chin, making you look at her directly to her eyes.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." She demanded. You gulped, trying to compose yourself as hard as you could just to not shiver under her. You had to be strong, to proof to her you were better.

But it was hard.

"Think your stupid little face will be fixed with a bit of makeup? Ha." She scoffed, looking at your whole outfit this time. "Someone as ugly as you won't be fixed by a little change of outfit. Not even if that friend of yours tells you otherwise. Or maybe not a friend? Who knows? It's not like he's interested in you anyways." She grinned, roughly moving your face towards a specific corner of the group.

And there you saw it, it was Colby. With another girl. Your heart sank, for some reason. Your breath escaped your lips as it got shaky, eyes quickly watering when you saw her get a bit too close to his face while he, with some drinks on his hands, was unable to do anything.

Why were you feeling like this anyways? It's not like you guys were something, were you? Why did it hurt this much? Your expression softened at the illusion you had made so quickly. So dumb, of course he wasn't interested.

"What's wrong? Did you silly little confidence already shatter? That was so easy." She almost sounded dissapointed. A push on your back was enough for you to fall onto the ground. It's not like you weren't about to anyways, your legs were already shaking at the mere thought that everything that has been going on was a mere lie.

A setup.

You heard laugher, whilst barely holding yourself up by the palms of your hands. "How pathetic. You shouldn't have even come. Now you're just being a bother to another group, another dead weight."

And they were right, you believed they were right. You believed them so easily that it was almost funny.

You could hardly breathe, the tears dwelling onto your eyes as a thick blurriness covered your vision. You couldn't hold it anymore, the stress... it all came to the surface quick enough. The music dissipating into the distance as you heard yourself breathing heavily; the only sound you could focus on.

The sound of you losing your mind. Your heart pounding hard. Too hard, perhaps. It ached. You could feel the frown on your face while the tears kept on flowing.

Come on, you were better than this. Why are you acting this way? You can easily act neutral like always, smiling, ignoring all of these feelings.

But breathing was hard, the murmurs of other people being only that; whispers you could barely understand. You felt like you had no control of yourself, like you were trapped in this center of humiliation of people you once called friends.

But they never intended to be your friends from the start; they were only using you.

This wasn't the first time either. Over and over again you were considered the center of humiliation of these people, the only difference is that this time was the last straw that broke off the mask you tried to so desperately to keep on.

A pair of hands began shaking you, trying to make you stand up from the floor. You couldn't pay attention to who it was, as you were busy enough dealing with the sudden lost of oxygen.

Maybe even a lost of self.

Barely able to walk due to your legs feeling numb from the unbearable feeling in your chest, whoever it was helped you out and moved your arm around their neck. You're not exactly sure what happened, but before you could even get yourself together, you noticed you were outside.

Still breathing heavily, finally, you looked at the figure that helped you out.

Colby.

It only made your panic attack worse. You started crying harder when you saw his face. The pain of being a fool was covered in your face.

"Hey, come on, breathe." He tried to give you your space. Far enough to let you calm down, close enough to hold you up. But he ended up hugging you closer when he noticed how broken you seemed.

You didn't hesitate and held him tighter. "I'm sorry, I.. I... I sh-shouldn't..." You sniffed, trying to find the right words to say. You felt the urge to try and explain yourself to him. Your vision was blurry and finding yourself choking with your own words.

"Let it all out, don't worry. I'm here for you, okay?" He whispered sweet nothings in your ear, his hands caressing your back as he spoke. "Breathe. Calm down your breathing first, sweetheart. It'll be alright."

Shaking in his arms, you found yourself comforted by his scent. Breathing in his cologne felt almost hypnotizing. His way of calming you down absolutely worked. For the most part. Sniffing, you tried to explain yourself, trying to argue to yourself that these feelings shouldn't have appeared, it was all a mere accident.

But your cries were more than enough to make him understand at least half of the situation. He was sure it was your friends, but for some reason you were pleading for forgiveness to him. "Hey... you don't owe me an explination, yeah?" He wiped a few lost tears through the run down mascara and cupped your head in his hands, smiling back at you. "Want me to take you home?"

You were barely able to respond with a little nod. It was all he needed.

It was a decently quiet ride. Colby took it upon himself to try and make you feel alright, holding onto your shaky hand and softly caressing it.

When he parked infront of your home, as he was about to walk out of the car, you stopped him. Looking back at you, he understood and sat back down. You didn't want to go inside, or maybe you didn't want to stand up overall, which he didn't mind if it meant for you to feel alright.

With your shivering lips and puffy eyes, you sniffed whilst wiping some dry tears from your cheeks. The stress has calmed down and you're able to breathe normally once again.

He was patient with you. He didn't try and make you speak up or got tired, he waited. Waited until you said something or wanted to move.

"Sorry." You finally spoke. He kept his eyes on your eyes, waiting for you to elaborate. "I was... a mess, it shouldn't have happened." You wiped some tears before looking at him. He seemed... confused.

"What do you mean it shouldn't have happened?" He asked.

"You're just... trying to have fun while I'm here just... ruining your night. I told you I wasn't fun. You could've found someone else to go with, I-"

"Who said I wanted someone else?" He interrupted.

It made you quiet down for a few seconds before talking back. "Well, I mean..." You sniffed. "You were... with... there was someone else, I just thought... you just... wanted someone... to... um... I don't know... hang around with, not something to carry." It was hard for you to explain yourself.

What were you even trying to explain? Were you just upset because you 'ruined his night' or because of something else? You were confused. "Who? The annoying girl? She randomly came to me, I couldn't even move her away because I had the drinks on my hands."

Annoying was a word that stood out to you. It seemed your overthinking got the best of you. Perhaps whatever you believed wasn't true? Looking at his face dumbfounded, he smirked. "What? Were you jealous?"

That was another word that stood out. Your cheeks fluttered and you murmured to yourself whilst looking away. "As if..." You could hear his contagious laugh after your words, making you smile slightly.

There was a comfortable silence before he spoke again.

"I saw it. Last time. Your 'friends'... The way she didn't even hesitate on making herself the victim when she saw fit. I had to control myself that night, that plastic face of hers was about to change shape if I didn't." He laughed to himself.

You were quiet, so he continued. "Honestly, it made me so mad that even though I was going to try and talk to you anyways, I had to make sure you didn't go back to them. I didn't want you to. You don't deserve friends like that, no one does." His brows furrowed at the thought.

"...It's not like I wanted to, either. I guess I just... got used to it." You whispered, looking at his hands covering yours. He held them tighter and got slightly closer to kiss your forehead, giving you a soft smile afterwards.

"I don't know if you'll ever try to trust again after all of that, but... would you give me a chance to be your friend? For now, who knows if I might level up later on." It made you smile. It always made you smile.

And you wanted to trust. To trust him, even though it might break your heart in the long run. Right now, you just wanted to feel safe, and he was the safest bet. "I guess I can give you a chance. And... let's see if you're able to upgrade sooner than later." He could only smile brighter, kissing your knuckles before changing his tone of voice to a more energetic one.

"So, wanna get drunk in your house? I have a Jack Daniel's in the trunk."

"Wha..."

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this was lying on my drafts for too long unnecesarily- hope you liked it!

also i put specifically that one song but there are so many that can be part of this trope, it's just too much for me to add lol

~nikkõ

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

❣️.ĐØ₥Ɇ₴₮ł₵₳₮Ɇ V₴ ₵₳₱₮ɄⱤɆ. ☠️

...

(i love playing with various branches of scarebat inside my head. even if it's one-note idea. but in this current bit, i was thinking about a core view on certain things, that most of their versions have in common. mainly the difference between jon's n' bruce's outlooks on how they picture 'ideal' encounter between one another. or more so, what the best outcome of it might be. what their 'great end game might look like.

bruce *for the most part* wants to believe in reabilitation. in a change for the better. it's possible to tame n' domesticate a wild crow. it might not change its habbits fully, but it's possible to make the bird less harmful *to smaller animals as they do feed on them* by keeping it happy and fed. by nurturing it into state, where it'll be mostly comfy with getting food by less extreme means. n' where it might trust you to not to harm it or stop giving it food. while, i view this set-up from a perspective of a shipper, i also can see gen approach here as well. mostly, bc i don't think that bruce would have ever left any of his *potentially ex* rogues fully unsurpivised. esp someone with history like crane's. batman is too much of a control freak to not peak into his villain's personal affairs, even if just to make sure, that they haven't went back to crime. him befriending / having a chance to impose influence on a troubled, malevolent 'crow via smth other, than use of force would have been a nice change of pace. batman is pragmatic, but i love how he doesn't ever fully dismiss the idea of 'what if', n' desire to see his rogues improving themselves. but at the same time, usually, he's the one who puts said crow back into cage *arkham*, so there is that too. he wants to do the right thing, but the bird keeps glaring at him through the narrow bars, bc it doesn't get why must it be caged for hurting n' killing other animals, when they *totally* picked on it first.

now, jon would have almost an oposite view of this, i imagine. where bruce can picture a second variant, another *brighter* path, crane kinda just cannot do the same. from his pov, there is no way for batman to ever become a villain. somebody who would team up with him. so they can't be 'together' this way. there is also no way for crane to ever get onto batman's level. esp bc he doesn't want *can't* change this drastically. therefore, the only way to keep the bat in his possession is to lock it up, trap it n' hold it in a little metalic box. hide it inside his basement, bc so many other people would love to have the bat too. he doesn't want to clip its wings, but part of him is paranoid enough to consider it. he has no idea how else to make a wild bat stay. it doesn't listen to him, like his birds do. but crane will take good care of it, anyway. make it dependent on him. caged by him, n' no one else can steal it away this time.

maybe, this reads as gibberish to some, but i really love how both bruce n' jonathan have animal analog / name in their aliases. bruce's is more apperent, bc well, batman lol. he even dress up as this. crane's case is more subtitle, but still, the scarecrow. even if he supposed to scare said birds away, he keeps them as pets as offten as we see bats hanging inside bruce's herocave lol. those animals also suit their personalities to a degree. the only other animal, that i can see crane as be a possum lol. sharp teeth, always hissing, long rat tail, but despite the ragged apperance, they are the only mamal that cannot get rabies bc of their body temperature, even tho by looking at it, you'd think that it surely would have that disease, haha. that's kinda very crane. he tends to subvert expectations, but in a strange ways.

an' well, where bruce can step down to extremes, n' i don't mean putting crane's scawny ass back into asylum, i mean also consider other methods of keeping him declawed. including trapping him inside his cave / basement. still, i feel like for jon's those said extremes are default line of thinking. socially inept, distrustful n' lonely, it would make sense for him to assume, that he can only co-exist with batman, if he will lock him up n' be the only one, who has a key to his prison. generally, it always seems that while jon's views on things n' his way of persiving / feeling affection are twisted, it's also pretty sad too. technically, he doesn't have any frame of referance here. of affection, that is returned n' not played as a joke at his expense. an' being humilated by the bat in such manner would sting way harder, than his high school crush rejecting him. he'd also would have that yandere u-turn. but not in like 'if i can't have you none one has'. more like 'i really want to have you, so i'd do every terrible thing in the book to make it possible'. well, almost 'every'. i feel like there be things, that jonathan *most versions of him, anyways* just kinda won't do. he does have some class, after all.

overall tho, i do love jon as that needy 'creep' archetype *which is pretty much a canon in old comics too*, who would kidnap / do awful things to a guy he likes, simply bc he has no idea what else he can do with him. at most times, he's that meme of 'idk how to hit on him, so he has to die'. meanwhile, bruce thinks that if you feed a stray bird enough, it might consider staying or well, not being as troublesome as it usually is.

in some timelines, this even might work out, who knows.

less so jonathan's side of things, since i feel like he would end up screwing his own plan over. i even have a lil drafty thing for a fic with similar premise, but it's for some other time. atm. just lil art, while i'm working on bigger things, haha. gotta store all these bits / concepts somewhere, so that i don't forget that they exist.)

[nanomooselet]

Episode Eight: Our Home

When this episode was first airing I saw someone describe it as "com[ing] for your feels with a rusty shiv" and it sure does! It sure does. It'll only get worse from here on out. :D

Little sprouts in their little hats! This scene is so friggin' cute and the show ruins it by cutting straight to the aftermath of the crash. Unfair.

The first time I watched this, I realised that Nai wasn't "evil" from the start. That is, he wasn't always... like he is now. I think he truly loved Rem and Vash, though he might have only realised how much later on. But on rewatch, I also don't think Vash's memories of his childhood with Nai carry the same level of nostalgic longing that Knives does for his memories. In the few short minutes he's being recorded, here are three things that Nai does.

Upset Vash by acting as though food - judging by Vash's reaction - makes Vash less of a Plant.

Play a prank by convincing Rem of something that isn't true.

Show affection to his brother... after Vash goes along with it and Rem falls for it.

I think, for Vash, the discovery they eventually made wasn't so violently unlike what he'd come to expect that he couldn't handle it. Vash believed he could rely on Rem to accept him and that was all he really needed. But what did Nai believe he had? His brother. He could rely on Vash to back him up, to play along, to understand. Vash seemingly being lesser, being other (like Rem) made Nai feel lonely. And though this touches on the manga* more than what we've so far seen in Stampede, I think Knives is far more of an idealist than Vash has ever been, even now.

Vash wants a better world, and he's willing to work for it, to fail, and to try again. He knows what it's like to fall short.

Knives wants a perfect world, and perfection admits no mistakes.

I just damn near made myself cry thinking about Rem and what she considers her mistakes MOVING ON.

THIS ISN'T AN IMPROVEMENT although it is a lovely colour scheme.

When Nai reveals the truth about the crash (or what he believes to be the truth; Knives cannot be relied upon as a source of information even a little bit), Vash flees. He continues to flee; even lying in the sand, it's to seek some kind of escape - not a good kind, but that's what it is. "I want this all to end./I don't want to be here." He can't, of course. Not before humans find him. We're survivors. For all our many faults, evolution didn't select for us giving up or failing to help each other, especially in the wake of such a disaster.

It's true that Brad and Luida aren't initially accepting of Vash, but it's Vash who frames himself in terms of usefulness, echoing Nai. It's Vash who seems to believe he shouldn't live unless he can... somehow make up for what "he" did. Luida doesn't know that. She sees another survivor, wrestling with the same guilt. I think the way she speaks with him may have been how she coped herself - and perhaps the way for Brad too, come to think of it. He acts like a paranoid dick, but when given a lead to pursue, he runs right off to dig through wreckage and bodies for some sign of Rem and finds the only shreds of comfort Vash was likely to get. They both have something to do. While I do wish Vash had chosen to live for the sake of living, I think what's keeping him in that bare little room isn't that he's an unproductive Plant or the hatred of humans (at least not just that). It's a trap he built for himself. As long as he does nothing, he's doing nothing wrong and he's not adding to the burden he already bears. They shouldn't trust him, not after what he did.

So when Luida trusts him to help the dying Plant as Rem's blank ticket story plays, she's making a choice. And that's to allow Vash to make his own choice: to live, even with his guilt.

The montage of him travelling around helping Plants! He teaches people how to take care of them properly! It makes him so happy!

So I really, really hope the speculation is wrong and Vash isn't burning himself out doing that. It seems paranoid, and it doesn't feel intuitively true the way some of my other speculation has, but that might just be wishful thinking. I definitely can't rely on Vash admitting it if it is true. I really hope he has at least one nice thing he doesn't pay for with his blood. :(

When Nai's influence re-emerges, so to does the burden of guilt, death and destruction he represents. It's funny that Brad's impulsive anger and mistrust is what drives Vash to seek his brother out - where Vash is going, he'll find plenty more of that.

One more thing. In the shot where Vash enters the Plant carrier (the city of July, or at least, the site where it'll be built in future), it zooms in to show Nai, standing. But if you look very closely as it does? He's rising to his feet from a kneeling position. I wonder what would have happened if Vash had entered a little earlier?

*Reading Maximum in like two days and then watching the final three/four episodes of Stampede was a terrible idea.

[theerurishipper]

It's so sad that with the way the love square is characterized I couldn't say with a clear conscious that if Adrien was the one to have a panic attack or mental breakdown Marinette in anyway could handle taht in their relationship. She was never asked to give him this kind of support in return, she only received it while Adrien did all the work to make their relationship happen and conveniently as possible for her.

Or heaven have mercy if Chat Noir had a panic attack or mental breakdown. Chat in Revolution ended up indirectly confessing to Ladybug how unbelievably low his self-worth still is and he only fake it til you make it for her this season, and even if Marinette felt bad for him it was still clear as day in her eyes how badly she wanted him to stop voicing it bc in their dynamic she was never asked to learn to actually supporting him the way he does her.

All she did was saying a little sentence of "You were perfect, Kitty" which from her perspective was well intentioned but Adrien himself wouldn't be able to do anything more with that than categorizing it once again as "Ladybug wants to comfort me and is struggling" bc after season 4 her claiming only now that he was perfect at the end of season 5, when s5 Ladynoir barely asked anything of Ladybug Chat just accepted he has no right to make errors or need help anymore bc Ladybug is stressed™ and needs a care taker - then "you were perfect, Kitty" is the worst wording I can imagine.

For as sweet as taht sentence SHOULD have been, it's only from Marinette's perspective (and when you ignore that she once again says nothing more than a mere sentence as per usual, which is honestly such a painfully underwhelming bar at this point. 5 seasons of partnership and she never improved in giving support. That's honestly sad.)

That sentence makes me so upset and I'm at least glad she at least helps him find the strength to over power the miraculous transformation time limit, but her eyes when he admits to how non existing his self-worth still is just... disappointed me.

I tried reading it in good faith for so long but her eyes show that she doesn't want Chat Noir to voice these doubts in their dynamic because she can't handle it and Adrien then proceeded to take what little she gave him because she made clear that this sentence alone was already asking too much of her again. This is such an one sided partnership, Chat can't voice ANYTHING because Ladybug still can't give more than surface level help.

I couldn't even imagine what would happen if Chat Noir dared to have a panic attack and it didn't manifest in convenient obedient helplessness. He would have to somehow will himself out of the breakdown, deny that anything of importance happened and then make sure SHE doesn't continue feeling bad about herself not being good at helping him.

Sorry for ranting, but thinking about how the Love Square falls apart each and every time Adrien is the one to need help and nothing ever asks Marinette to actually improve in her weaknesses in their dynamics, the moment he isn't cuddling her into development while also serving as her punching bag to take her issues out on him (for which she is also never held accountable or asked to not do it. She can do with him whatever she wants and it's all 100% justified bc she had a bad emotion while simultaneously Adrien has to learn that any bad emotion he feels is literally female oppression)

Is just extremely frustrating.

If Adrien in season 6 feels bad that his father is dead or maybe even both of his parents, I can't imagine how that is supposed to work in their dynamic. It's not a problem Marinette can hit with force and then undo with magic and surface level "I'm sure it'll be fine" won't do it. But it's Marinette Dupain-Cheng. How realistic is it actually to expect more from her from here onwards?

Anon, you put it into words better than I ever could.

It really does bug me that Adrien is never allowed to ask for help from Marinette. Season 4 was literally all about him learning that he wasn't allowed to ask her for anything, and you can clearly see that. He literally shot down Plagg's suggestion to ask Ladybug for help in Conformation because he literally doesn't think he can ask anything of her. Season 4 was full of Ladybug paying lip service to him about how much she needs him and then pretty much never actually taking the time to validate his concerns and try to mend their partnership, even when he tried to voice his concerns. She always went on the defensive and it ended with him just accepting it and resigning himself to being her second fiddle.

And hell, look at Destruction in Season 5. Chat Noir is so distressed about Cataclysming Monarch, and Ladybug can't offer him comfort because she's having her own breakdown. And you just know that if Ladybug mortally wounded someone like that, then Chat Noir would be expected to put his feelings aside and comfort her. Season 5 was full of Chat Noir being the perfect partner for Ladybug on whom she can rely on emotionally and who has learnt the lesson that he must never ask a thing of her, even if he is in danger.

But anyway, you're completely right anon. With all this being said, I have no expectation that Season 6 will allow Adrien to feel sad about becoming an orphan, because that would necessitate that Marinette try to console him, and we can't have any of those feelings that inconvenience Marinette, now can we?

Thank you for your ask!

[lolia21]

Well I feel down a Sanders Sides rabbit hole and now I have one fan fic idea that keeps playing in my head:

Remus and Roman are twins but they don't attend the same school because Remus was... himself and his parents were kindly asked to transfer him to a school that "fits his personality better". So he goes to a school a whole district over. He gets along with Roman and he loves him but they are very different people so they don't hang out a lot. Remus also can't stand the blatant favoritism they're parent give Roman. He thinks it's sweet that Roman tries to tap it down but it doesn't change anything.

Sp Remus spends most of his free time at his friend Janus house with his other friend Virgil. Janus also shouldn't be attending their school cause he's loaded but he hated the prep school he was sent to and transferred behind his parents back. Money can get you literally anything. Expect real friends which is why Janus loves Remus and Virg so much. Virgil is actually living at a near by boys home. As a kid his home situation wasn't great and he doesn't talk about it a lot. He ended up at Sanders House four years ago though and it's not too bad.

So anyway Roman has never meet Remus' friends and Remus has never met Roman's friend Patton and Logan. Whenever they come over is always at Janus' house. He knows they exist just like Roman knows Virgil and Janus do but they've not met in person over the last two years.

So it all starts pm a long weekend because Halloween is Friday. ( fun fact my school in gerogia gave us Halloween and Valentines off and used it as teacher workshop days.)

So of course the dark side trio is hype, roaming the mall, scaring people, judging costumes, and trying to find accessories to improve their own.

The light side trio is also their because Patton waited too late to get a "decent" (Roman's words) costume, and Logan was hoping to avoid getting one at all.

The crowds get so bad that everyone is separated. Luckily both sides actually have designated met spots, tho for very different reasons. The darks sides met spot is the horror section at Barnes and Nobles. It's large enough that Virgil won't feel claustrophobic and he can read some Poe while he waits and not have people constantly asking if he needs assistance. It was a place chosen, so he doesn't have a panic attack while he waits for his friends since he's the only one without a phone.

On the other had the light side trio chose the lgbtq+ teen romance section as their meet spot. Mainly Because it'll distract Roman enough that he won't get bored of waiting and wonder out to find his friends before they get there. Defeating the purpose of the spot all together.

You can see where this is going.

Patton has been trying to get on the elevator for the last five minuets but everyone time he tries to get on the same time as someone else he let's them all go first and theres no room for him. This goes on until a nice but kinda rude stranger just days "oh my gawd" and pulls him in as he in goes in. The stranger honestly looks way to well dressed to be here and doesn't even introduce himself. He just starts playing on his phone and Patton doesn't know whether saying thank you would be annoying or not. Janus on the other hand is texting Remus about how just met someone who reminds him a little of freshman Virgil and how he hopes he's not freaking out.

Logan has decided to take the stairwell because he knows that people arr less likely to use it over the escalators or elevators. He looks a floor above him and someone who kinda sorta looks like Roman sliding down the railing on his ass and laughing the whole time. He barely has time to dodge as someone yells " dodge nerd" and flies past him. Honestly Logans so surprised by whatever the hell that was that it take him two whole ass minutes to start walking again. Remus is just having a blast. He didn't think this would work and he saw a pretty cute nerd on the way down.

Roman is having a complicated time. He lgbtq teen romance section is usually in the front if the store but it's been switched with the horror section for the month. So here is is not being able to decide whether he should just stay here because the ia the physical spot he normals what's at or go the the actual section with all the books about the boys kissing that he likes to read. Virgil on the other hand is on the virge (ha) of kinda freaking out. He's happy that the sectionnis getting more love, even if it's only for money. But he liked that it was in the back and away from the crowds of people coming in and out. Not to mention theirs someone dude dresses like a prince yelling on the phone to someone named Patton about whether he should "go to the section of love and acceptance or stay in emo hell". Virgil is insulted enough by this to tell him Roman to please stop yelling and go to whatever section isn't here. Roman rolls his eyes calls him knock off Gerard way and ignores him. Virgil completely forgets how nervous he was becuase now his piss3d and they get into an arguments.

It ends when Patton walks in and calls for Roman at the same time that Janus calls in and calls for Virgil. They look to their friend seemingly coming in together and are about to complain to their respective friends when Janus, Virgil and Roman here a familiar voice go

"Brobro what are you doing here. Hey Jan, hey virge," and Remus walks in completely unaware of the fighting that was just happening. Virgil tries to actually get a good like at this guy's face and realizes that without the make up and general zanny disposition he does look a lot like Remus. Before anyone can respond tk that, an another person asks

"OH God Roman what did you do? Who are they?" And of course it's Logan.

So now are dark sides are standing on one side and all the lights on the other. As the two siblings and their two different friend groups collide. Teen hurt, comfort and angst ensues.

[sammy8d257]

In the Week that Follows - Chap. 2: Day 1 - Cleaning (part 2)

An AvM fanfic Written by Sammy8D257

Part of the Watered Down Hot Chocolate Series

Cover Art / Day 0 / Day 1: 1 - 2 - 3 / Day 2 / Day 3 / Day 4 / Day 5 / Day 6 / Day 7 / Day 8

Chapter Word Count: 6887

Characters: King (He/Him), Purple (They/Them), (Only mentioned but Gold uses They/Them)

CW for this Chapter Part: Implied Minor Character Death (King’s Child), Implied Child Abuse (from Purple’s past), Unhealthy coping mechanisms, Self-Hatred, Minor Swearing, King's Anger Issues, Poor Mental Health, Brief Descriptions of Injuries

[AO3 vers. (Full Chapter)]

(To quote myself while I wrote this, "10K+ words in and these idiots haven't even started cleaning the house yet, wtf" Also it'll be explained in Pt 3 but the food King and Purple are eating is a Filipino dish called "Lugaw" because I'm the author and if I want to give Purple Filipino traits, I will alskjdlgsgdgs /lh)

= O = o =

20 minutes later, a freshly showered King stepped into the hallway.

With a soft towel, he patted parts of his body dry as he made his way down the hall. He had to admit, the shower did wonders for him. He was clean and awake and while his muscles were still sore, it was leagues above how he felt when he first woke up. He wondered if it would be weird to thank Purple for pushing him to shower. Even if it was done in a weird and trying manner.

Speaking of Purple, King rounded the corner into the main room and spotted them rummaging around their large pink tote bag. In his absence, the purple stick had unfurled one of the blankets from last night and laid it out on the floor at the side of his bed. The various pillows were strewn on top of the bedding to act as places to sit and near the center of the arrangement were various medical supplies.

King squinted. There were rolls of bandages, a box of medical adhesives, various tubes of ointments and creams, a box of rapid cold-hot patches, and what looks like an old pink colored over-the-shoulder heating pad. Purple still had their attention focused solely on finding something in their bag and King watched as their eyes lit up as they found what they were looking for. 

With a triumphant grin, the younger stick pulled a bottle of pain killers free and nearly dropped it in surprise when they noticed King standing in the doorway.

"King!" Purple yelped. They smoothed down ruffled parts of the blanket before leaning back to sit rigidly in their spot. Silently, they placed the painkillers down near the rest of the medical supplies and gestured for him to sit.

King quirked a brow at the stick figure before making his way towards the blanket. He took a seat on one of the pillows, folding the towel in half and placing it to the side.

"Quite the spread you got here," King commented nonchalantly. Purple's eyes snapped to meet his gaze before concentrating back on their lap. After taking a moment to psych themself up, they looked up at King and squared their shoulders. King blinked as Purple spoke,

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to demean you. You are completely capable of taking care of yourself and it was wrong of me to have assumed you couldn't. I-"

Purple faltered. Their eyes darted to the pink tote bag to their side before returning to King's face. "I should have realized the help you needed wasn't the same as the help I'm used to giving and for that, I'm sorry."

They sucked in a breath. "If you'll still have me, I would like to keep helping you. I promise I'll improve my behavior."

With that, the younger stick figure bowed their head and trained their gaze on their hands.

A silence stretched as King stared mouth agape at the other. 

What? What was that? Why did-?

"I- You don't-" King sputtered, clenching his fist tightly together. This was NOT how he expected this conversation to go. Yes, King wanted an apology for the way Purple treated him, but not like this. He expected a stuttering apology, fast and rambling like the kind Gold would give when they racked up late fees at the library. That was normal. That was natural. King could handle that. But this? This was practiced. This was straight to the point with each word and phrase meticulously picked out to be as placating as possible. They've done this before. And he didn't know why but that thought made him uneasy. 

"Purple, kid-" Purple blinked owlishly at him. "You're okay. It's fine. I'm not mad. I promise. I just…" King paused as he tried to find the right words. He could feel the beginnings of a tension headache form as Purple stared expectantly at him.

"Look, I appreciate you trying to help me even if it's been… really weird. But I'm an adult. I don't need to be coddled," And King bit back a curse when Purple's gaze turned blank. He lifted a hand to his chest and quickly continued. "I still want you around though! It's nice having someone else here besides myself. So if you still want to help, then you can."

A second passed, then two, then three as Purple stared wide-eyed until a small grin broke out on their face. They nodded, happily clasping their hands together on their lap. They seemed relieved and King felt the corners of his own mouth turn upwards.

"To be honest," He brought a hand up to rub sheepishly at the back of his neck, slightly wincing at the strain in his shoulders. "I'm still wondering why you wanted to help me in the first place. I mean, it's not like I'm your boss anymore." 

Purple paused and tilted their head in confusion. "Why wouldn't I help you?"

"Um, because… Because I got you hurt while you were working for me?" King said slowly. The frown reformed on his face at the sight of Purple's bemused expression. It was as if the thought of not helping King had never crossed their mind.

The purple stick shrugged.

"It's okay," Their nonchalant tone made King's skin crawl. "I signed up for it. You can call it a workplace hazard."

King let out a sharp bark of laughter. The disbelief was heavy in his throat. "A workplace-? Purple no. I almost got you killed. That's not-"

He cut himself off as Purple waved a hand dismissively. 

"It's okay," Purple repeated. "Really. Don't worry about it. You came back for me, so it's okay."

And King hated the way the words died on his tongue. He wanted to ask why Purple was just okay with everything. How could they just brush the last 24 hours off? How could they just be fine with getting hurt? He wanted to ask why they were so willing to help him. He knew he didn't deserve it.

But he didn't, couldn't ask. Not when Purple was looking at him with those understanding eyes. Not when Purple said they wanted to stay and help. Not when they didn't hate him. He was afraid they'd change their mind.

So he held his tongue and let the words and questions dissolve into the air.

"Alright," King relented and Purple's grin relaxed into something more genuine. 

King averted his gaze. The kind smile Purple was giving him made his stomach curl. Or maybe it was doing that because it was already past noon and he hadn't eaten anything.

As if on cue, a loud growl emanated from his stomach. Both sticks stared wide eyed until a furious blush erupted on King's face. Purple tried to hide their giggles behind their hands.

"Well, someone's hungry," Purple teased. King groaned, burying his face in his hands in embarrassment. 

"Yeah I, uh," King coughed into his fist. "I haven't eaten yet."

"Oh! Well it's a good thing I brought food then!" The younger stick beamed at the other and patted the side of the pink tote. "Although, I think we should finish your health check first."

With a huff, King reached down into the medical pile and grabbed the painkillers. The bottle in his hand wasn't a brand he recognized. If he had to guess, it was one of the generic versions available at local pharmacies. He turned the bottle over in his hand and read the information on the back. Branded or not, ibuprofen was ibuprofen and King was in no position to complain.

Gingerly, King popped the lid open and shook two pills out onto his palm. He lifted his hand to his mouth and without hesitation, swallowed both pills dry. He grimaced at the feeling of the medication down his throat.

A strangled noise from across the blanket had King looking up into the horrified eyes of Purple. Their arm was halfway outstretched with an unopened water bottle grasped in it and their mouth hung open in shock.

King lifted an eyebrow. "What?"

"I- You," Purple sputtered. "You take your pills dry?"

"Uh, I mean yeah, sometimes." King shrugged, leaning forward to take the bottle from Purple's hand. Purple cringed.

"Aren't you worried about damaging your throat?"

King twisted the cap off of the water and took a sip before answering. "Not really. I'm pretty sturdy. It's not like a sore throat will kill me."

The younger stick didn't reply, instead their face pulled into a furrowed expression before they sighed and looked away.

King arched a brow before focusing back down at the pile. An assortment of various medical supplies stared back up at him. Some of them he could recognize from his own first aid kit, albeit his were the commercial brands, but others he couldn't place. Still, there was one he was familiar with and he reached down to pick it up.

It was bruise cream, contained in a medium size plastic squeeze tube. Judging from its broken seal and weight, it had definitely been used before. King was no stranger to this type of cream, having a bottle always stocked in the bathroom medicine cabinet, so he knew how to apply it.

Taking off the lid, he dabbed a pea sized lump on his fingers and carefully worked the cream into the tender flesh of his left cheek. Then he repeated the process, this time focusing on the underside of his jaw. Once done, he placed the tube back on the blanket and picked up the box of adhesive bandages. It came with multiple sizes in it and King picked out two bandages, one a large square and the other a longer rectangle. Peeling the backing off, he applied the square bandage over his cheek and the rectangle bandage along the underside of his jaw. King exhaled, slowly opening and closing his mouth to test his now more limited movement range.

With his face covered, the next thing was to take care of his back. He pulled the bruise cream and a roll of bandages closer to him. He was about to grab the box of cold-hot patches when Purple piped up.

"If you're going to use those patches, don't put the bruise cream on."

King stilled. "Huh?"

"Those are pain relief patches," Purple pointed towards the box that King had been reaching for. "You shouldn't mix them with any topical ointments. They contain their own mix of medication that could mess with the chemical properties of the bruise cream and either reduce the effectiveness of both items or cause a rash to form. Plus, you need dry skin in order for it to stick."

"Oh… And you know this because…?"

"Prior experience."

"Ah."

King blew a puff of air from his mouth. Glancing up, he could see Purple staring at him from across the blanket. Their eyes were slightly narrowed as they seemed to be thinking something over in their mind.

"Okay, well… Which do you think I should use then?" King asked. Purple blinked, their eyes clearing as they registered the question.

"Oh! Um, the bruise cream," They pointed down at the tube and bandages by King's lap. "You already took some painkillers so the pain-killing properties of the cold-hot patches seem kinda redundant at the moment. The bruise cream will at least provide some much needed healing for your injuries."

King contemplated Purple's explanation. It made sense. Purple sure seemed to know what they were doing when it came to medical stuff. He hummed, recalling Purple's past words. Prior experience, huh? King wondered just what type of experience they had.

The orange stick figure glanced at the other. They looked young but old enough to participate in the usual fights stick figures were known for. Although, from the week spent working with them, they never seemed "fight-inclined". Sure they could hold their own when needed but flight seemed like their go-to. Although, King supposed they didn't have to be from a fighting background to have fighting experience. His own origins as "the King" from an old abandoned flash game proved as much. Still, with all the little glimpses he's seen, King would be lying if he said he wasn't interested in Purple's past. Maybe if he played his cards right, Purple would be willing to answer some questions later.

"Alright. Fair enough," King said as he grabbed the bruise cream and popped its lid back open. He released a hiss as he worked the cream into his lower back. The muscles there were tender and King didn't even want to know how mottled his skin was from the bruises. If he had to guess, the bruises probably stretched from his tailbone to about midway up his back. Silently, he thanked the coders above that his spine didn't seem to be affected from this whole ordeal.

When he finished, he recapped the tube and picked up the gauze pads along with a roll of bandages. With how large the area felt, he figured one of the adhesive strips wouldn't cut it. Instead a large gauze pad and elastic bandages would have to do.

King grunted, the angle he held the gauze put a slight strain on his muscles. Quickly, he wrapped his lower back, breathing in a sigh of relief as the gauze stayed in place. After a few more passes around his body, he cut and tied off the end of the bandage at his side. 

Taking a big breath in, King tested the snugness of the wraps. They were a little looser than King probably needed but since they were wrapped around his stomach, he didn't want them too tight. He still needed to eat after all. Speaking of, King's stomach growled again. King sighed. He was done with his health check so the next course of action should be food.

King shifted in his seat, making a move to get up.

"Hold on," Purple's voice caused King to pause. He turned his head to stare at the younger stick whose arm was outstretched in a 'stop' motion. With that same hand, they motioned him to sit back down.

"You have another one," Purple said. "It's along your upper back and shoulders."

King frowned, brows pinched in confusion. His back and shoulders were hurting earlier but he thought that it was residue from when he crash landed on the jukebox. Most of the pain felt like it stemmed from his lower back but according to Purple, he had another injury he wasn't aware of. Sitting down, King craned his neck back to look over his shoulder at the expanse of his back he could see.

Oh.

What greeted his eyes were what looked to be pixelated burn lines creeping along his shoulders and disappearing past his line of vision towards the center of his back. The lines were a slightly deeper orange color and it formed a disjointed pattern of squares that tapered off and disappeared into the surrounding skin. Gingerly, King reached a finger to poke at the burns, hissing slightly when a hot pain flared at his touch. 

King winced. How did he miss this earlier? Did the soothing heat from the shower somehow cover up any sort of indication of this injury? Slowly, his eyes roamed over the rest of his body. Littered across the backs of his limbs were small patches of these pixel burns, although these ones were light in color and barely noticeable. It seemed like the majority of the dark burns were along his back. 

"Where did…" King's question trailed off as his mind raced to figure out what these scars were from. Luckily, he didn't need to wonder for too long because Purple had his answer.

"The staff," They said, making a sweeping motion with their hand. "The white light. It was disintegrating things. And it, well, you know what happened."

King blinked. A second passed, then two, then three. And then he brought his hands to his face and groaned.

"Cursors," King swore under his breath. He placed a hand on his forehead and groaned again. "Yeah, no. That… That makes sense."

He grit his teeth. How could he have forgotten something as crucial as getting vaporized? A dull throb pinched between his eyes at the stinging memory. King rubbed small circles into his forehead to try and relieve the oncoming tension headache. 

"-would that be alright, King? … King?"

"What?" King snapped and then immediately cringed at the loudness.The relief from the painkillers hadn't kicked in yet and the added ache of his head was making King's already short temper, even shorter. Purple, to their credit, didn't flinch at the harsh tone. Instead, they held his gaze for a second before speaking again.

"Would it be okay if I helped bandage your burns?" Purple asked. 

King did a double take, Purple's question causing all previous irritation to be replaced with confusion. Did Purple just ask if they could help bandage him? 

"What? Why?" The bewilderment was clear in his voice.

"I know you can take care of yourself, and that includes taking care of your own injuries, but," Purple brought their hand to their chest, their voice soft and steady. "Applying the burn ointment to the middle of your shoulder blades and also having to bandage it would be difficult to do by yourself."

"Not impossible," they quickly added. "But it would be difficult. If I can help in any way, then I want to. I really do."

They spoke with such sincerity that King had no doubt they were genuine. He blinked, slowly turning their gaze from Purple to look at medicine surrounding them. The younger stick had brought all of this to help him. Not only that, for the past hour, they were trying to make sure King was okay and healthy. They didn't seem like they were doing this out of spite or to get something from him. Despite all of his previous assumptions, they're doing this because they want to help him.

Oh. They actually care.

King swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in his throat.

"King? Are you okay?" Purple asked hesitantly.

King waved a hand and took a deep breath. "Yeah, I mean, yes. Yes to both. I'm okay and yes. Yes, I would like you to help me."

Purple stared silently at him before a small smile lit their face and they nodded. Without saying a word, they grabbed a small tube with a fire icon on it and shuffled forward. King could feel Purple's presence as they sat behind him and he could hear them breaking the seal off of the burn ointment. He tensed for a second as Purple placed their fingers along his shoulder blades.

The cool feeling of the ointment felt heavenly on his skin. King didn't realize how tight his upper back and shoulder were until Purple started gently applying the medicine to it. They worked silently, only speaking up to apologize whenever King would tense as they passed over a particularly tender spot. 

When the younger of the two finished, they asked King to pass them the gauze pads and roll of bandages. King reached over and placed the items into Purple's outstretched hands.

"Thank you," Purple readjusted their position behind King and started unwrapping the roll. The orange stick sat up a little straighter as they felt hands hold the gauze in place. If Purple was going through all this trouble to help him, he didn't want to accidentally mess up the bandages by slouching. 

Just like before, Purple was gentle as they wrapped the bandages around King's torso, occasionally pausing to ask if anything was too tight or uncomfortable. King shook his head. He couldn't remember the last time someone looked after him with this level of care and detail. In his own experience, he only really saw something similar when he himself would take care of any injuries Gold would accrue in their many hours of playing. 

It was… nice. A lot nicer than King expected and after a minute, he found himself relaxing under Purple's light touches. He glanced downwards to watch as purple hands passed the roll of bandages across his shoulders and chest. 

King sighed contently. 

He was about to focus his gaze elsewhere when something caught his eye. Was there something… wrong with Purple's hands? Maybe it was because their movement was messing with his vision but King could almost swear they looked… uneven. It was as if the solid color of skin that most stick figures were known for, was streaked with dark patches and lines. King frowned. He tucked his chin to his chest to get a better look, but no sooner than he did, Purple pulled away.

"Alright, I think you're all good now!" Purple announced. They pulled slightly on the bandages to check that they were secure at the back before they shuffled forward so that they and King were face to face. Again, Purple reached towards the bandages wrapped around King's chest and checked to make sure they were in place. 

"Everything looks secure," Purple stated and started retracting their hands. "If anything's too tight or uncomfortable, just let me know and I-"

"Wait-" 

Purple jolted as King caught their wrist. With wide eyes they stared at King whose gaze was instead focused on the arm held in his grasp. 

King flipped it over, his frown deepening the closer he looked down at the purple limb before him. It wasn't a trick of the light. Spiderwebbed across their palms, streaked across their wrists, and branched across their forearms, were the same pixelated mess of electrical burns that arched along his own back. The scars were slightly darker in color and blended well within the surrounding skin. If it wasn't for the fact that King was watching their hands so closely, he doubted he would have even seen it.

King bit back a curse. Of course. Of course Purple would also have these burns. They were exposed to the white light of the staff for much longer than he was and if he had burns, then it would only make sense if Purple did as well. He was so focused on his own injuries he didn't even stop to think if Purple had their own. King swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat from guilt. He should have checked on them first.

Concerned eyes trailed up Purple's arms, searching for any more injuries. There was nothing major along their biceps but then he saw it. Stretched across their chest was a burn so large, King mentally cursed himself for not noticing it sooner. The edges were lighter in color than the usual purple skin and as it went to the center of the injury, it transitioned into the same dark color of Purple's other burns. With how big and smooth the transitions between the injury and the surrounding skin were, from a distance it looked like Purple's chest just had a shadow cast on it. But up close? Although it was subtle, King could see the edges.

The guilt swirled into a dark pit in the orange stick's gut. The burns along their hand and arms were no doubt the result of getting disintegrated from the staff, King had his own set of pixel burns to prove it, but the injury to Purple's chest. That…

That was all King's doing.

-The staff buzzed with a power infinitely more alive than the command block ever felt. King floated higher, a determined smile splayed across his face. This was it. This was what he spent the last year of blood, sweat, and tears working for. He was so close. The smile on his face twitched at the edges into something more maniacal. He was going to burn everything to the ground-Something, or rather someone grabbed his staff. King snarled and stared down into the face of Purple. The younger stick looked up at him hopefully, their hands clasped around the staff. Anger rose in his chest. How dare this fool try to take what was his. How dare they try to stop him. With one hand, King pushed the purple stick figure away from the staff. A look of confusion flashed on their face before they lunged forward again. King stopped them, holding them by the head as they flailed, still trying to grab at the staff. Anger and disgust grew and with one fell swoop, he brought the staff down. Crackling black electricity connected with the younger stick's chest and Purple-

Purple yanked their hand from King's grasp. King startled, eyes blinking from the memory. The purple stick figure scrambled back and stared at him with a guarded expression. One hand was curled protectively over the other in front of their chest. 

A silence passed, then two, then three before King spoke.

"Purple…"

"I'm fine," they cut him off. "Don't worry about me."

King frowned. "You're not fine. This-" He swept a hand towards Purple for emphasis but immediately dropped it when the younger stick flinched.

"This…" He said a little softer. "This is not fine."

Purple cringed, choosing instead to stare at the floor. King continued. "Your injuries, did you know you had them?"

"Yes. I looked at them before coming here."

King's frown deepened. "Before you came here? Why haven't you taken care of them yet?"

They mumbled something that was too quiet for King to make out. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Purple's lips curled into a scowl. They spoke again, this time loud enough for King to hear. "Didn't want to waste supplies."

The orange stick shook his head, confusion clear on his face. "Waste supplies? What do you mean waste? What were you trying to save them for?"

Purple didn't say anything. Instead their eyes flickered to his face. Or more specifically, their eyes met his gaze before lowering to linger on his bandaged cheek. For a moment, King stared confused before the realization hit and he recoiled. 

"Purple," A mix of disbelief and horror in his voice. "No. I don't… I didn't need all this. You didn't need to do that."

They scoffed. "Of course I did. I'm here to help you. How am I supposed to do that if I don't have enough supplies?"

"Enough supplies? You have enough!" King said, dumbfounded. "You have enough bandages to wrap a horse!"

"You don't know that," snapped Purple. They fidgeted in their spot in clear agitation.

King threw his hands up. The frustration clear in his voice. "I can damn well guess from the pile you dumped out!"  He gestured towards Purple. "You have more than enough to look after your own injuries!"

Purple's eyes flashed. "And what if I end up using too much?"

"Then you use too much! Big deal! That's not the problem here!" King exclaimed. 

He didn't get it. How could Purple waste their time and resources on the person who quite literally was the one who caused them harm in the first place and still try to justify why they were right for ignoring their own injuries? It didn't make sense. Purple cares, it's obvious that they do, but King didn't deserve this level of dedication. Not this much. Not at the expense of Purple's own well-being.

A realization hit him like a bucket of ice water. Every action Purple had done for King up until this point, recontextualized themselves within his mind. Purple was helping him. 

Purple was only helping him.

"If you've been putting me first in everything you do…" he slowly asked. Purple stared at him wide-eyed, on edge from King's disconcerted tone. "Were you ever going to take care of yourself?"

"Yes!" they said quickly.

"When?"

"When I'm done helping you!"

"And when would that be?"

Purple's mouth shut with a click. Their face scrunched in shame as their gaze fell to the floor. Right. Of course Purple didn't know. It all depended on how fast King's injuries healed. King let out an exasperated sigh, bringing a hand to rub at his temple again.

He was no expert in mental health but even he could tell this seemingly compulsive need to help even at the expense of their own wellbeing, was probably not healthy. Unfortunately, this sort of thing was not something King wanted nor was equipped to dissect at this moment, so he mentally filed it away for later. Something he could do right now was help Purple.

"Alright. We're going to take care of your injuries," King said matter-of-factly.

Purple's head snapped up in surprise. "What? No! We don't need to-"

But King cut them off with a wave of his hand. "You said you wanted to help me? Well, you can help me by making sure you're taken care of first."

Purple grit their teeth. Conflicting emotions played on their face at the older stick's words. "King, this isn't really necessary. I'm okay-" 

"If you don't, then you can consider yourself done and you can leave."

For a second, King wanted to retract his ultimatum at Purple's horrified expression but he held firm. Was this underhanded? Yes Was this taking advantage of Purple's obsessive desire to help? Probably. But if this is what it takes to make sure Purple takes care of themself? Then so be it. If they want to be stubborn, then they'll get stubbornness back. 

Purple looked like they wanted to scream. They bit their lip, stopping themself from saying anything as numerous expressions passed across their face. Finally, a look of neutral defeat settled and they sighed. 

"Alright." Purple said quietly and they reached forward to pull the burn ointment and bandage roll onto their lap. 

A silence filled the house as King watched Purple diligently tend to their injured hands. It was methodical, almost mechanical in the way they quickly and efficiently applied ointment to the patches of pixel scars. Prior experience, indeed. 

King filed that thought away with the rest as Purple began carefully wrapping their hands. He squinted. Purple was using the same roll of bandages that King used to wrap his body. Judging by the thinness of it, it was almost out. Luckily, there were more bandage rolls set out on the blanket.

Sure enough, by the time Purple was done wrapping their hands, the roll was practically finished. Purple set the tube on the ground and King quickly snapped up another roll of bandages before they could grab it. Purple eyes blinked in confusion as they stared questioningly into orange. 

"I can help bandage your chest. You said it yourself that wrapping that area can be difficult to do on your own," King explained. Purple frowned, somewhat shocked at having their own words used against them. They didn't say anything, so King continued. "It's the least I could do since I was the one who gave you that injury."

Purple opened their mouth to protest but was cut off as King kept going. "Plus, think of it as me repaying the favor. Since you helped bandage my back earlier. It's only fair that I help bandage you too."

The younger stick didn't respond right away. Their brows scrunched while a contemplative look adorned their expression. After a second, they slowly nodded.

"Okay." 

And King let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"But before the bandages get placed," Purple interjected, they fidgeted for a second before plucking the bruise cream from the blanket. They held it out towards King. "My shoulders… I got some bruises from when my elytra was yanked. Could you…?"

King carefully took the tube from Purple's hand. "Of course. I'll get your shoulders and you can get your chest?" 

The younger stick figure nodded, reaching over to grab the burn ointment and an application pad. Then they turned so their back faced King. The orange stick shuffled closer to get a better look. Mirrored on either side of their shoulder expanse, were a cluster of bruises. King could picture where the elytra straps met skin and winced in sympathy at the force it must have taken to leave these marks. 

He worked meticulously on the shoulder muscles of Purple's back, taking extra care when applying the bruise cream. When Purple signaled they were done applying the burn ointment to their chest, King started wrapping with the gauze and bandages. It was almost nostalgic in a way. Back when Gold was younger, they'd always get into wild scrapes while playing in the backyard and he'd tend to their injuries in much the same manner. Granted, Purple was a much more behaved patient, having barely moved an inch since King started. Gold on the other hand, always had the tendency to shift around when they got too antsy. 

It wasn't until Purple gave a small stuttering gasp, did King snap out of his thoughts. Purple still had their back to him but small tremors shook their chest as they hastily brought a hand to their face.

Immediately, King released his hold and backed away. "Shit- Purple. Did I hurt you? Were the bandages too tight?"

The younger stick didn't turn around. Instead they let out a wet chuckle and used the bandage on their wrist to wipe at their eyes.

"No, they're fine. Really good even," Purple replied, voice thick with emotion. They shook their head wistfully. "I just… I almost forgot how nice it feels to have someone else take care of my injuries."

Without looking, Purple grasped the end of the bandage that had been released in King's haste, and pulled it taut over their shoulder, carefully tying it off at their bicep. Sighing once more, they stood up and stretched, slightly grimacing at the pull of the bandages. Then, Purple turned and offered a hand out to King, who sat frozen in his spot.

Purple's slightly red rimmed eyes crinkled in tired amusement. "I'm hungry. Let's go eat."

King stared dumbly at the outstretched hand. A second passed, then two, then three. He blinked slowly, his gaze moving from Purple's hand to their face and back, all the while his brain tried to catch up. Without thinking, King lifted a hand and allowed Purple to pull him up.

The smile Purple gave him was warm and thoughtful, and King tightened the grip between their hands. Purple didn't seem to mind the action if the returning squeeze was anything to go by. With their free hand, they picked up the pink tote and together, they made their way to King's kitchen. 

King's kitchen was small. Wall and base cabinets lined the back wall opposite the doorway creating a countertop. It extended towards the right until it was interrupted by a 4 burner gas stove. Next to it, the countertop continued until a standard sized refrigerator capped it off about two-thirds of the way into the room. Opposite of the back wall was a sink and dishwashing machine combo and more counter space made up of base cabinets. A microwave and toaster sat on these counters. Near the end of the room was a circular wooden table with two chairs stacked off to the side by an almost full trash can. On the far wall were two doors, one an actual door that opened into the pantry and the other, an open doorway that led into another room that held the door to the backyard. Said backyard could be seen through the window that sat opposite to the table along the back wall.

A calendar hung next to the doorway that connected the kitchen to the main room and King glanced at its messy array of crossed out days as Purple led them towards the dining table. In the time it took to get from the main room to here, King had composed himself. He had never expected to see Purple cry, even if it was just a few stray tears, and he decided that he never wanted to see that again. He filed away that thought along with the comment Purple made regarding them. 

Instead, King focused on gathering the chairs from their stacked position when Purple released their hands and veered off towards the microwave. It's been a while since King had sat at this table and even longer since a second person sat at it. About 3 or 4 months into his research, King made the decision to eat his meals out in the main room instead of in here. If asked, he would say it was for practicality. By eating his meals out in the main room, King could continue his research without interruption. Though King knew the real reason was the memories that plagued him when he sat alone at the table.

Once the chairs were set, King turned back to watch Purple. Said stick figure had placed their tote on the countertop and had pulled a medium sized plastic container from it. Popping off its lid, Purple placed it into the microwave and shut the door. The mechanical whrrrr of the machine filled the kitchen air.

"So the thing you brought," King said, catching Purple's attention. "What kind of plates do you need?"

Purple glanced at King before turning back towards the microwave. "Bowls. Oh and spoons if you got any."

King nodded and moved towards one of his upper cabinets. As he passed by his sink he cringed at the sight of it half filled with unwashed dishes. Opening the cabinet doors, he let out a sigh of relief as he spotted two clean bowls sitting stacked on the shelf. With the bowls in one hand, King used his other hand to pull open the top drawer of the base cabinet to retrieve two spoons. He placed those spoons in the bowls and briefly nodded again at Purple as he made his way back to the table. Once there, he separated the bowls and spoons out on the table and sat down.

When the microwave dinged, Purple carefully gathered the now warmed container and carried it to the table. With a spoon, they scooped out what looked to be a type of rice porridge with bits of shredded chicken out into the bowls. After filling one, they handed it off to King and poured the rest into their own.

King narrowed his eyes. While his bowl was nearly full to the top, Purple's was only about a fourth of the way filled. Silently, King pushed his bowl back towards Purple and shot them a disapproving look. The younger stick pursed their lips, face scrunching in annoyance.

Purple's mouth opened to say something, no doubt to try and justify the discrepancy but it shut at King's expectant expression. The orange stick figure pushed his bowl further across the table till it rested next to Purple's. They stared incredulously, gaze going from the bowls to King and back. In return, King just raised an eyebrow and nodded. 

After a moment, Purple let out an indignant huff and picked up King's bowl. With their spoon, they scooped bits of food into their own bowl until they were both even. They set King's bowl back down on the table and shot him a look.

"There, are you happy now?" Purple said, exasperated. 

"Very," King replied, cheerfully retrieving his bowl while Purple huffed again and sat down.

Plucking his spoon from the table, King mixed his bowl's contents. The food within was an off-white color and had a consistency a bit like thick soup. It looked similar to oatmeal but instead of oats and berries, it was made out of rice and chicken. King swirled the food one more time, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Purple was watching him, and spooned the rice porridge into his mouth.

A burst of flavor hit his tongue. The rice porridge was salty and savory, with ginger, garlic, and lemon accenting the chicken taste. Maybe it was the fact that he'd never tasted this before or maybe it was because he was already starving, but regardless, it was delicious. King's eyes widened before diving in for more.

He was only a few bites in when a muffled chuckle interrupted his flow. With a spoon raised midway to his mouth, King blinked and shot a look in the direction of the sound. Purple had a hand up to their mouth, obviously hiding their amused grin. 

Heat rushed to King's face in embarrassment. He had completely forgotten that Purple was sitting across the table. They probably thought he was an absolute pig. Hesitantly, King weathered a glance at Purple and was surprised to find the younger stick didn't look disgusted by him at all. In fact, they were staring at him with a soft expression.

A second passed, then two, then three, before King faked a cough into his fist, drawing Purple out of their thoughts.

"It's, uh, it's really good," King stammered awkwardly, holding up the bowl like he was raising a toast. Purple blinked before their face broke out into a bright smile.

"Then let's eat!" They said as they lifted their own bowl and clinked it against his.

King couldn't help but smile in return. He nodded and the two of them enjoyed their meal in a comfortable silence.

= O = o =

[bluest-planet]

Having emotions over the fact that Kingdom Hearts as a series is probably the closest thing in mainstream media (to me, there of course might be more out there but like it different because its a product of major IPs) to like, aromantic and asexual themes and queerness being so intertwined with its 'friendship prevails' and 'forging connections' messaging.

Like. Yeah, theres the disney couples, and whatever the hell might be implied between characters like Kairi and Sora or Namine and Riku, or even Riku and Sora. But that's the thing, its not confirmed.

Like, sure, its enough for normies to maybe connect the "boy and girl therefore couple" despite how little there is to fall in line with that expectation because it takes so little for allos to believe in romantic love, that just a girl and a boy who care about one another yet barely speak is enough to confirm it.

But theres also, so, so much evidence against it too, if you just look to the side for a second.

Like, there's no big confession, there's no kiss or proposal of some kind (i mean theres the paopu but, im pretty sure they both have two separate fruits rather than one,) they have more characters in their lives to care about then just themselves, and maybe its the aro in me but they have like. Barely any chemistry and feel more like far away friends, where they left impact on one another but have an awkwardness/unfamiliarity between them.

And like, yeah, I think reading Riku as gay on his own- or both he and Sora having romantic feelings for one another is totally valid, esp considering how much is centered between their relationship.

But... It also... Warms my heart to just know they love and care about one another... Intertwined... But it could be entirely platonic. Not strictly as Brothers or Lovers but something else, be it best friends or queerplatonic partners or something entirely else that drifts between all of those labels.

They just care. And that's enough, thats valid, and its celebrated.

But what gets me the most, even if its not explored a lot, is Sora and his connection with everyone and his other heartmates (Xion, Roxas, Vanitas, Ventus). He has cute friendships in every world! He's friends with so many different people who are always happy to see him and invite him to comeback, always happy to help him if he needs it while he visits so long as it was within their power (the various disney characters) as if he has a home everywhere he goes, he's not actually bound to any one place.

Which yeah, that might seem sad to people. The idea that Sora might not have a definitive home because hes been changed so much on his journey, so much hardship.

But that's kind of mean to think, isn't it? Sometimes people loose their childhood homes, but that doesn't mean you can't build an even better one elsewhere. That doesn't mean you should be bound to any one place, maybe his home is just his friends, any and all of them- wherever he is, so long as he's with anyone he cares about it'll be home. And if his friends aren't there?

He'll make more, not because he's replacing them, but because he just has so much space and so much love for the world around him. He's willing to keep expanding his horizons and making more connections, more homes so he'll never be homeless again. Does that make sense?

It might be hard in 4, whatever will happen to him in Quadratum, but thats what its about; how he'll recover in his darkest hour while relying on what he's learned and being himself but improved.

The fact that Sora has gone to so many worlds and made so many friends- something Ventus wanted to do so bad, and yet. He carried Ven and took him along for the ride while he was resting. To me its heartwarming, Ven may be asleep, but he's not being abandoned, he's right along with him enjoying it in his dreams. Sora's not alone with his companion even if he doesn't realize it.

I always define my gender as "We as in Me but upside down" or "the sum of conversations and experiences shared with others, including myself" because i usually use "we" to refer to myself (not here for simplicity's sake) I dont need romance or desire to be a person, or to enjoy life. I'm never alone, even if theres no one in the room. I get that from Sora, y'know?

How Xion and Roxas spawn from him, I'd wish we got more between them. But just knowing how much he wanted to save Roxas, Ventus, Aqua, Xion, Vanitas- he helps the people who both are and aren't him, or make up who he is or reflect- he care about them. And its because he cares about them, that he cares about the people they care about.

Sure, if he didn't have some connection to Ven and therefore Aqua- he'd still try and save her because that's just how he is. He cares. But at the same time, it means more because he knows how Ven feels, thats his friend, and therefore, Sora's friend. He doesn't care if he's ever met her he just jumps at the chance to save Aqua and hold onto the small thread tied between them. Same with Xion.

I'm sorry, I'm not making much sense, am I? I'm not good at articulating my thoughts. But the fact that he uses any small connection as an excuse to get closer to someone who means a lot to someone he cares a lot- it makes my heart flutter! I wished all the people i cared about got along and were friends with each other too. I wish I could visit and rely on people from all across the world too, because i would never want to settle in any one place if i realistic could. I'd keep my loved ones safe in my heart if they needed it, if i could, and carry them wherever I go, hoping to share all the same pleasant experiences. Or I'd be fine splitting pieces of myself, just to keep me company to know what I must look like outside of my own perspective, to know how else i could inevitably change into another person entirely to meet up and compare lives later, enjoying the differences.

I wish I could offer a chance at something better to the same face, to say; i see your anger and your path refuse to think its okay to be self-destructive, now come home. And my brighter, happier self, to get the happy ending i deserve by saving myself while also being a friend to myself. Waking up from the bad dream at last, to enjoy an awakened life full of connections.

But I cant, and thats okay, my life is one I enjoy regardless, but Kingdom Hearts... Is in many ways- the ultimate aromantic and asexual fantasy for me. And maybe even a few others.

[fadeawaywithyou]

immediate first reviews of the (non-nightcore) Mammalian Sighing Reflex album from Wilbur!

spoilers below if you haven't listened to his album! I really like it! Also, I'm not looking into lyrics online just yet, it's very late and if I do that I won't sleep cause it'll just consume my mind for hours.

-Amazon Standing Lamp: I love the guitar here and I laughed when it took me about 5 seconds to realize the higher voice isn't a woman, but actually Wilbur Soot singing alongside himself. He's sampling something at the end I don't know.

-Mine/Yours: The lyrics about kissing like a job and tongue and teeth *mwah* and the last line ohhhhhhh boy. The beat reminds me of a beating heart.

-Around the Pomegranate: the instrumental at 30 seconds in is SO GOOD the beat with the distorted voice is so fun. i can make out the lines "no one else can save you" and "nowhere you [can?] return to". This whole song is very fun despite the lyrics and meaning. It's just a very experimental. I like when the music gets very loud. Speaking of the lyrics the ending where Wilbur says he wants to feel normal again is just...I'm gonna go lay on the floor.

-I Don't Think It Will Ever End: Again with the experimental music! It kinda immediately reminds me of that part in Bo Burnham's Inside, the song "All Eyes On Me" where he has a mid-song monologue. It is very interesting in a meta-sense due to the comparison I can't help but make between this and Wilbur's streams. Where he's got a "chat" or audience responding to him in a cheery voice no matter what he says.

-Glass Chalet: I like the scratchy feeling in the instrumental. He's throwing stones in a Glass Chalet, which according to google is like a fancy type of cabin found in the mountains (the alps, specifically?). Also, I love the sampling he's doing with the talking at the end.

-Melatonin 130: I like the distorted voice at the end. He's really experimenting with this album and I'll keep saying it because I love it! I love the ending lyrics about everyone hoping you fail and the apes with coloring books, I think he said?

-Oh Distant You: The music takes up most of this song, instead of the lyrics, but what is sung is very nice.

-Eulogy: One of the lyrics hits very close to home. Not in a good way, but not in a bad way either. I guess it'll depend on the day I listen to the song. It's a good song. I like it a lot.

-Dropshipped Cat Shirt: The distortion kinda reminds me of those hyperpop songs that went viral on tiktok back in 2020 and it's very new to hear it used in this way with these lyrics and the general tone of the music. The last line! God, what is it with this album and the final couple of lines that hit me upside the head? I just need someone to tell me I'm tired???? God DAMN. shit...

-The Median: Very good. I like these shorter songs in between full-length songs. It's just a minute long but I really like it.

-Trying Not To Think About It: The lines about romance and marriage...man that's relatable. this is probably gonna be my favorite song. And then the rest of the song just.../pos but ooooooof

-10 Week Rule: It's a good song. Was NOT expecting that line in the chorus, which I'll let people reading this find out themselves.

Overall, this is an excellent album! I really love it and I will be listening to it constantly. This gives me the same feelings that YCGMA gave me, while still staying very distinct. It's not more POLISHED than ycgma, but it's clearly made with Wilbur's more improved skills in music making. (there is a word for this i can't remember rn)

I'm gonna commit to picking a favorite song after a couple more listens, but so far I really like Trying Not To Think About It and Around the Promegrante. This is a very creative album and I'm glad he's experimenting here. This doesn't sound like Lovejoy, and I'm super happy. It's unique, it's fun, and it's sad!

[mattodore]

coming into who he is later in life than most, julian is no stranger to being asked, "don't you feel like you've already wasted too much time? aren't you worried you won't be able to get what you want?" it's a no-brainer for julian that he can accomplish anything he sets his mind to, but he always gives a measured response to these kinds of questions. he asks, "does the garden snail give up halfway to the leaves? does the giraffe retreat if the tree is too tall? i'm doin' this because it's the only way i can live. i'm doin' this to be me."

julian for @rainymoodlet's kiss me in komorebi bachelor challenge 💕

name: julian lee vance

age: 37 (adult, born may 30th)

traits: ambitious, goofball, neat (+ cheerful and worldly)

aspiration: master chef, julian wants to master and try all kinds of dishes from around the world

height: 5'9" but insists he's gonna grow more if he keeps eating right

background info:

julian went through most of his young adult life doing what he thought was expected from him, so coming into his 30s found him unhappy and lifeless. he needed a change bad. he started simple: every day he was gonna set aside some time from his grueling work as a lawyer to make himself a proper meal—after all, he really needed to lay off the take-out. from there, julian found himself with a real sense of passion for something and he knew it was a source of joy for him that he needed to pursue.

julian married his high school sweetheart, jeannie, straight out of school, but the relationship ended in divorce soon after he turned 21. the long distance between their out-of-state colleges was a natural stressor, but julian realizing he was gay after encountering another man like him at a party blew the whole thing wide open. jeannie freaked out on him and they didn't speak for over a decade. later, when they were both in their early 30s, jeannie messaged him on social bunny to tell him she'd recently come out as a lesbian, and said, "ain't that funny, jules? it's like we were searching for our community the whole time." they've been close ever since.

julian heard the news about daniel taylor coming out and starring in his own show from a friend of a friend. he'd never heard of a dating reality show for men like him before, so he found himself curious and started watching clips from your dad's garage online. six hours into a deep dive on daniel taylor later, he found himself flustered and feeling a little bit silly for crushing on a guy he'd never meet. a week went by and then—drunk on the same wine he was using to make beef bourguignon—he sent a messy, poorly formatted, rambling submission into kiss me in komorebi talking about how much he wants to meet daniel. a little hungover the next morning, he sent a little prayer out thanking every higher power out there that he hadn't sent any selfies or actual identifying information about himself in the application and no one would ever know it was him.

jeannie was the one who sent julian's new and improved application into kiss me in komorebi for him! after he told her about his new crush and the embarrassing application he sent in while wine drunk, she seriously started drafting an application for him then and there. "it'll be good for you," she told him. "And anyway, you're tryin' to be more adventurous, aren't you? isn't this an adventure?" she hit the submit button while sitting beside him, laughing and patting his back while he hid his face.

fun facts:

julian actually loves reality shows! he's just not one for dating shows because he always feels bad for the people who just wanted to find love but got sent packing. his favorite reality shows are the ones where he gets to see people working on their passion craft. cooking, special effects makeup, tattoos, fashion, drag, and recently woodworking... he loves all of it.

julian is big on adventure (a new trait of his!) and is always willing to try new things out at least twice, because everything and everyone deserves a second chance.

anthony bourdain was his biggest inspiration in throwing his law degree to the wind and changing his entire career in his 30s.

middle eastern cuisine is julian's favorite type of food.

his favorite thing to eat is shakshuka, one of the first meals he had at jeannie's house after they reconciled.

the scar on julian's jaw is from a cooking accident when he was just starting out. sometimes you just get a little too overzealous while trying to cut into an egg plant. julian's distaste for egg plants now is basically just a fear response.

julian loves how food brings people together. to him, food is a conversation between cultures, between languages. it's a connection to everyone who came before him and everyone after.

[duhragonball]

Neon Genesis Evangelion 12

I'm old enough to remember when 2000 A.D. was kind of a big deal, and now it's just whatever 1976 was to people who lived in 2000 A.D.

Gosh, this takes me back. Remember back in 2000, when everything was mustard-toned for some reason? Triple H and the Rock kept trading the WWF title back and forth, and Antarctica was on fire?

We got a glimpse of Misato's past in that flashback, but in the present, she's been promoted to Major. Shinji and Asuka didn't even notice, but Big Rigg Mahoney caught on right away, because he's an expert on rank insignia and such. Suzuhara knows too, but come on, we all know he learned it from Big Rigg Mahoney.

The Eva pilots do some sort of "stress test" thing at the base. I'm not sure what this is for, but Shinji shows great improvement so he gets a gold star for it. He's uncomfortable being praised, though.

Later, the kids throw a little party to celebrate Misato's promotion. Oh, I didn't notice the sash she's got on, that's adorable!

Naturally, Big Rigg Mahoney organized this whole shindig, and the writers honor him by using his full name for the first time since Episode 4. It's too late, though. He's been Big Rigg Mahoney for too long now, and he won't go back.

Speaking of guys I had to rename because I don't dare look up what they're actually called, I think Vice Commander Clownshoes needs a cooler rank. "Admiral Clownshoes" has a nice ring to it.

The others make a lot of loud screeching noises, and Shinji and Misato have this quiet conversation in the middle of it, which seems kind of impossible, with the noise, but okay. They both don't handle praise very well, and Shinji asks why she joined NERV, and she dodges the question.

At the moment, Major Katsugari is in charge of NERV, because Geno Ikari and Admiral Clownshoes are on some expedition to Antarctica, or what's left of it. We never find out why they're there, so I'm just gonna skip over this.

No, wait. Imagine a "Steamed Hams" bit featuring these two. Clownshoes feeds him Krustyburgers and Gendo just clasps his hands over his beard and stares enigmatically.

Oh, this is the dumbest looking one yet. I thought the Angel from Episode 1 looked kind of weak, but I didn't mind because I assumed they would get cooler looking as the show went on. Now I'm starting to wonder if that guy was my favorite the whole time.

This Angel just floats in low orbit over the Earth and drops pieces of itself. The telemetry indicates that it's just practicing, improving its aim, but Misato figures it'll eventually launch an attack on NERV headquarters. Ritsuko further speculates that it'll drop its entire body when that happens, which would cause tremendous devastation. They seem very chipper about this.

So the Angel's attack strategy is.... falling. Really hard, I guess. Misato's counterplay is... catch the Angel before it hits.

Let me back up. A while back, it was established that Angels have an "AT Field" which protects them from conventional weapons. The Evas can neutralize this advantage, and this is apparently because the Evas possess their own AT Fields. I'm not sure if the fields cancel each other out, or if the Evas can use their fields to penetrate the fields of their enemies. Anyway, I think this Angel isn't just falling from a great height; it's also using its AT field to make a bigger impact when it hits. Likewise, Misato's plan seems to depend on the Evas' AT fields being powerful enough to halt the angel just before it hits the ground.

But this is still an objectively stupid plan. The calculations say it only has a 1-in-10,000 chance of working. Even the pilot kids can tell how stupid it is. Misato has already ordered the evacuation of Tokyo-3 and all non-essential NERV personnel. The kids still agree to do it, but they don't expect it to work. Misato offers to take them all out for a steak dinner if they win. You know, if the four of them all came out of this episode wearing Ribera jackets, that would be fuckin' awesome.

I'm not gonna photoshop it, but just imagine them all showing up for work the next day rocking these bad boys. Wait, the Ribera steakhouse is in Tokyo, so I guess it got destroyed in the wars that followed the Second Impact. Well so much for that.

Asuka doesn't plan to write a will because she doesn't expect to die. Rei also has no use for a will, but it's spookier when she says it, like she doesn't need a will because she cannot be killed in any way that matters. Shinji doesn't need to write a will because I'm pretty sure the only thing he owns is that stupid shirt of his, and the tape player that he's probably worn out replaying the same two songs over and over.

Also, Rei pre-emptively refuses the steak dinner. Not because she's afraid of failure, or because she is confident in her success. She just doesn't care for meat. Bad. Ass.

So they start getting ready for this, and Misato basically tells her crew that she has no idea what she's doing, and most of this plan is pure guesswork. It only works if the Evas manage to get under the Angel as it comes down, and they have no idea if it's even going to crash on them. She's just pretty sure it will, and she even trots out that "woman's intuition" line, which is one of the hackiest things in the hack playbook.

On their way to deploy, Shinji asks Asuka why she pilots the Eva, and you might want to sit down for this: She does it for the attention. Just the mere fact that people will acknowledge her existence, as if anyone could ignore this kid. She asks Shinji why he pilots the Eva, and he doesn't know. This is episode twelve, by the way. We'll get our answer today, but let the record show: this is episode twelve.

Then we get a flashback? Flash forward? At some point, Misato finally reveals to Shinji why she joined NERV. Her father was a scientist who threw himself into his work, just like Shinji's dad. Misato resented him for it, but when Second Impact happened, he sacrificed himself to save her, and she's felt a burning desire to defeat the Angels ever since. It's not just to avenge her father, but perhaps to spite him. Shinji can sort of relate to this.

Back to the mission, the Angel has begun to descend, so the Evas have to hustle those buns before McDonalds switches from the breakfast menu to the lunch menu. "McDonalds had all-day breakfast in 2015", you may say. Yare yare daze. In this world, where the Angels have destroyed half the world's population, the visionaries who made all-day breakfast possible no longer exist. The funding and logistical support for such an initiative has been siphoned away to fund the NERV agency. And so, manga man, the breakfast menu will end at 11:00am.

Anyway, yeah, Shinji gets under the Angel and catches it, then the girls swoop in to add their AT fields to his, and then Asuka stabs it in the eyeball to kill it.

I guess this makes sense.

With that settled, Misato receives a call from Gendo Ikari in the Antarctic. He congratulates her on her success, and handwaves the damage done to Eva Unit 01, since destroying Angels is their purpose. He then asks to speak with the pilot of Unit 01 and tells Shinji, directly, that he did a good job. Wow. I just assumed this would never happen, or maybe Gendo would say half of this with his dying breath in the final episode or something. But no, they just gave this away in Episode 12. Huh.

Later, the kids take up Misato on her steak dinner promise, but they choose a ramen stand instead, because they know she's poor as fuck. Also, Rei doesn't like meat, so this just makes sense. They should have gone to Taquiera Goku. This is so close, but yet so far.

Anyway, while they eat, Shinji tells Misato that he finally knows why he pilots the Eva. It's so he can hear the praise from his father, like he did today. That's what keeps him going, even if it took this long for him to get it.

Well, we're inching a little closer, I guess. This will probably all come together quickly, so let me use this space to throw out a few theories I've had in mind.

The Eva pilots have to be 14-year-olds for some reason. I can see no good reason for this, except that there must be some quality in them that literally did not exist prior to Second Impact. Either they got magic powers from it, or they've been genetically engineered to pilot Evas, or some other thing, but it's got to be some deal where the pilots were "invented" around the same time as the Evas themselves. NERV doesn't want to use fourteen year-olds, but there literally isn't anyone older who would be compatible, and they simply can't wait any longer for them to grow up.

I suspect that the Evas are Angels themselves, or some sort of technology built from Angel corpses, or something like that. That's why they have AT fields, and why no one else has any idea how to recreate the technology.

I also get a strong I Am Legend vibe from this whole story. I only saw the Will Smith movie, but as I understand it, the book follows a similar track, where this lone human is trying to get rid of the vampires, only to discover that the vampires see him as the monster, since he's this lone enemy who constantly tries to destroy their community. He's their legend now, just as Count Dracula was the legend in his culture once.

The Angels keep attacking NERV, getting bolder and smarter each time, and no one knows or cares why this keeps happening, because they're too worried about defending themselves. But it sure feels like the Angels are trying to defend themselves, since NERV is committed to their destruction. And if I'm right, it sure seems like Gendo Ikari is doing some shady shit involving Angels, which might make him seem like a major threat to the Angels. They're trying to destroy humanity before humanity destroys them. Second Impact itself may have been caused by Angels trying to stop Ikari or Misato's dad from hurting them.

So I predict this will get revealed near the end. The Angel attacks will get more intense and brutal, and then the kids will find out that they've been the baddies all along, and shit will hit the fan. Don't tell me if I'm right or not, but that's how things are looking to me right now.

[eveenstar]

Dating Masky would be like.... (Headcanons)

Dating Toby headcanons , Dating Hoodie headcanons

In this AU Masky and Hoodie are part of the proxies/Slenderman gang because I said so

I don't know you got yourself in this situation, but you did. Congrats? You're probably not leaving alive but hey, it's a one time experience! Literally.

There's two paths this can take; you either date Tim or you date Masky. You can't have both. I mean, you can but you can't. It's complicated.

If you dated Tim during Marble Hornets, you'll catch Masky slipping through the cracks here and there. However, if you date Masky post-MH, you'll rarely see Tim. And I mean it, very very very rarely. It's like there's no Tim there anymore, it's only the Masked Man now.

We'll focus on Masky post-MH. Like I said, I have no idea how you managed to get into a relationship with this mountain man but you did. I hope you're not a touch starved or cuddly person because this man avoids that like the plague.

He doesn't talk, at least not much. He's not full mute but he's also not the sarcastic full-of-shit you'd imagine him to be. He'll talk when he feels like it.

A little tip; his eyes. The ol' cliche of "the eyes are the gates to the soul" bs falls here. What Masky doesn't say out loud, his eyes will show. He's very expressive in that matter.

Grudges. Holy shit, please never do anything to anger this man (despite his short temper). His grudges can last a lifetime. Expect some sort of revenge for whatever you did to anger him in the first place.

But let's see the bright side of things here; you'll never get hurt. Unless he's the cause, but that's surprisingly rare. Followed close behind by Toby, Masky is on the top 3 most possessive proxies. I mean, you're not allowed to see or talk to other proxies, "creepypasta's" or strangers - but it's for your safety. He might be a huge dumbass but he won't put your safety at risk.

Speaking of safety, he'll absolutely train you. Self defense, basic fight moves, anything. He wants you to know how to defend yourself or improve on what you already know + downside, he won't go easy on you which always leads to bruises. He'll help you take care of them though.

And it's in those little moments that you might, just might, see a glimpse of Tim in his eyes or the way his actions become softer. He's still there, buried beneath all those layers of trauma and the walls Masky built. He'll avoid your gaze in those moments, no matter how much you stare at him, or call for him - in the end it'll always be Masky looking back at you.

Wholesome thing is, you end up wearing his jacket A LOT. It's just - he has a thing with you wearing his clothes. Don't ask.

Masky is the Michael Myers of the proxies. He's more like, Strode Trilogy Myers while Hoodie is OG Myers. You can't tell whether he's breathing or not because of how still he can get, but one thing he differs from Hoodie is that you can always tell if he's there or not. He can't cloak himself as good as his partner does.

There are times you won't see Masky a lot. He's the "executioner" of the group. He might not be the leader anymore, but he still carries himself around like one. Due to this, he's always the one sent to eliminate those who have come a threat.

He'll always return in a "bad" mood. He won't take it out on you but please don't try your chances by getting yourself in his way. Let him take couch for a few nights and he'll be yours again.

You'll rarely meet the other proxies, there's more than Hoodie and Toby, but you'll see them even less. Whenever they drop by, you hide yourself in the bedroom or anywhere in the house away from them. Those are the only times you'll hear Masky speak like a normal person (or whatever normal means for them).

The others, those who are not Slender's to control, you'll never see unless they so happen to walk by. But don't worry, you're not missing out on anything.

I believe it's worth to mention that you probably have the Sickness as well. It's not as bad as Masky's but it's still there.

Speaking of which, whenever Masky gets a really bad day on his coughing, only approach him if he so asks. Unless you wanna be pushed off of him in a rather aggressive way. But if you have his permit, draw circles on his back or just be there for him. Eventually his hand will find yours for comfort - but he'll never bring that up.

However, not everything is a fairytale and there shall come the day where the Big Man will decide that your time has ran out and have Masky kill you. He knows this, he knows SlenderMan would have him kill you just for fun and giggles. Because of this, he gave you a map and instructions of what to do in case that day ever comes. He only hopes the training he gave you will be enough to defend you from himself.

Until then, you live out this morbid fairytale with him, in his little hideout. :)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[bomberqueen17]

yah ok

well as expected i got like zero time for tumblr now that i am at the farm full time. what haven't i updated about lately.... hmmmmm....

oh my finger is healing very well, i pulled the stitches out myself after researching it and getting good advice from a couple of friends, and it's totally closed up, healed super clean-- thanks hydrocolloid band-aids!!!-- and it'll be a scar but not a gnarly one. the tip of my finger is still ssssort of numb, which is a bummer, but it's improving i think. I can't grip things with the pad of that finger because pressure hurts in a shocky kind of way, but that's also improving slowly. I can otherwise use my hand as normal and it's safe to get it wet, which is good because I've had to have it submerged in water almost constantly since i got here, between egg-washing and cleaning and the 165 lbs of pork sausage we're making this week and cleaning and doing dishes and egg-washing did i mention. (I washed and packed 96 dozen fucking chicken eggs on Monday and Tuesday. Come buy some goddamned eggs, locals. I've eaten so many.)

I don't think I posted about my propane fake-woodstove out in the cabin. BIL bought it for me off Facebook Marketplace, and set it up for me-- I've bought the stuff for the cabin, it's my cabin, but he bought this and wouldn't even tell me how much it was, which was sweet of him. It's real real cute, and it hooks up to a thermostat, but I have not used it that way; the cabin is well-insulated enough that what I do is I turn it on when I get there in the evening, sit in front of it until it's time for bed, and then turn it off, and since it's spring it hasn't been a problem to just wake up and come down and maybe turn it on for a little bit while I get dressed but maybe just deal. The cabin holds the heat well enough it's not been too bad. I'll put a photo of it behind the cut.

What else! I don't know that there's much else. Oh yeah I did spend the weekend in NYC, traveled down on the train with Dude and then he stayed on the train back out to Buffalo on Monday when I got off in Albany. I was just on Manhattan tho, I didn't go anywhere. I just visited my beloved mammoth in the museum of natural history, and about drowned in all that rain, and wikipedia-spiraled about the Dead Rabbits, as one does.

OK time for a photo of my fake woodstove.

[image description: the corner of a wooden-walled interior, featuring what looks like a cast iron woodstove with a glass front, except the fire is very blue and weirdly even.] It's not quite that blue in real life, the phone was doing stupid exposure-adjustment tricks which makes it look like fairy fire. But it's kinda pretty IRL too, I promise.

Also very cozy, so, I'll take it.