#i have a few little tidbits written

[tojiwrd]

the consequences of the voice in your head ; toji fushiguro

pairing toji fushiguro x fem!reader

summary it was easy to love toji but, sometimes, it was difficult to make peace with loving toji.

word count 4k

content warnings angstyyy, hurt/no comfort kind of, open ending kind of, grieving, self-loathing, comparing, lots of overthinking. toji's a good good dad, megumi's a lil ice hockey kid, naoya and toji r civil and almost friendly cousins in this

Breaking habits was difficult. Waking up on a Monday at seven in the morning was difficult. Love was difficult. These were all things you knew, and they always lingered in the back of your mind ready to put their claws into any thought that questioned why? Daybreak came and went everyday, sunlight got chased away by silver streams of moonlight, and these thoughts—no, facts—remained asleep, waiting for the moment to pounce onto the occasional question that flitted across your mind: why was love difficult?

You knew there was no true answer; there was no prose you could read written by a qualified doctor on WebMD that told you exactly why love was difficult. It just was. You could ask friends, family, and even strangers on the street and they could give you an answer that, in their own circumstance, ranging from calm to increasingly tumultuous, was true. But you could never get an answer for yourself from anybody but yourself. Perhaps breaking habit was difficult for Toji Fushiguro because he had learned that love—not the fleeting kind that you have when you meet a one-night-stand and immediately feel like the stars had aligned that night for the two of you, only to feel near to nothing for them until they turn into a silly anecdote—could only happen once, with one person. 

For you, breaking habits was difficult because when you were thirteen, your friend handed you a cigarette and said once you get used to it, it’s akin to the feeling of laying on your bed and the duvet is warm to the bone on a chilly day. 

Waking up on a Monday at seven in the morning was difficult for you probably because as soon as your eyes flickered open, you would see Toji staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows with a rueful look on his features. The first time you’d seen this image was the morning after you, Toji, and little Megumi Fushiguro moved into your new place. It brought a smile to your face, the kind of smile that is only worn by a person when they admire somebody when they aren’t looking. That was until he opened his palms and stared down at his fingers, right hand coming up to softly brush the empty ring finger. He’d bit his lip slightly, and you just about missed him from seeing you awake, before he reached down to the pocket of his plaid blue sleep shorts you’d gifted him and pulled out a ring—the ring, you’d realized—and placed it on the empty finger he was focused on. 

You had beat yourself up over witnessing him having a moment as private as that for the next week without his knowledge, but there was truly no way to bring it up to him afterwards organically. 

You could say, “Hey! I actually saw you put on your ring from your last marriage on your finger that morning when you thought I was asleep.” But that would, in nearly every case, not go down well.

Toji had told you, though, why this had grown into a Monday morning ritual. Well, he didn’t exactly tell you that he woke up a few minutes before you to reminisce about his late wife and their marriage, but you’d put the pieces together like you always did. Apparently, Toji’s late wife would always wake up early on Monday mornings and prepare an otherworldly breakfast for herself, Toji, and Megumi; she claimed it started off the week right, and it always made four-year-old Megumi more inclined to wake up on Mondays. In hindsight, perhaps it was silly that you clung onto that little tidbit Toji had told you in passing when Megumi brought it up, but when you saw him wake up on Monday mornings and start his day off by playing a video reel encased in his mind of Megumi’s mother, Megumi, and himself, it was difficult for you to feel comfortable by your presence around him on Mondays. Still, it was hardly Toji’s fault for missing somebody he’d spent years with who got taken away from his life so suddenly. 

You were just overthinking like you always did.

A Thursday in late June marked one year since you had been living with Toji. A year of going to sleep next to him and waking up with him there. It was a silly anniversary, and you weren’t going to mention it for it would most likely garner confused looks from the Fushiguro’s, but you still decided to cover the dining table with a variety of well-enjoyed foods between the three of you. 

There was a small photo-frame that stood in an arbitrary corner of the table where nobody sat. It was a small, old digital camera picture of you, Toji, and Megumi on a lake and camping trip your friends had dragged the three of you to. It was simple; Toji was sitting on a log, five-year-old Megumi between his legs who grinned wildly with a s’more in his hand, and you sat next to Toji with your head leaning on his shoulder. Your friend had gifted it to you on a random Tuesday, and when you smiled so wide at her, she embarrassedly brushed you off and said, “The person who printed this said there’s a discount if I get two pictures printed for the price of one. I just thought the picture of me and my husband would look good with you and your… Toji.”

Neither Toji nor Megumi had seen the picture. Well, not until the moment Toji walked in with a sweaty Megumi wearing his junior league hockey uniform. Megumi was babbling about the delicious smell until he saw the new addition to the table (after cooing at the takoyaki from his favorite restaurant and telling his father he knew he could smell it while they pulled into the driveway) and picked up the frame with his growing, stubby fingers.

“Is this from Lake Ashi?” he asked excitedly, eyes tracing every corner of the picture as if he was recounting the exact moment it was taken. When you nodded, he said, “I had such a good time there!”

You smiled, and ruffled his dark locks before retracting your hand and saying, “Go shower!”

He stuck out his tongue at you before he ran upstairs, saying something about how nobody can start eating until he’s back. 

You walked to Toji who was watching the scene play out from the other end of the table and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Hey, how was your day?” You grinned slightly as your body melted against his frame, a strange sense of euphoria enveloping you even though you’d only been apart for a day.

His arms wrapped around your waist and he bent down slightly to peck your lips. “Thrilling. I watched a bunch of seven-year-olds run around ice with sticks longer than them.”

“Sounds like a fun time,” you replied, nuzzling into his chest, right against the soft thumping of his heartbeats.

“What’s the good food for today?” he asked, stepping away from your hold and scanning the dishes on the table with a puzzled expression.

You smiled teasingly. “Why? Do I not make good food everyday?”

He snorted, and you concluded that the way he looked at you then was with love. The usual deep set of his brows were relaxed as he reached over to you and flicked you on the forehead. Lovingly. “I cook all the meals because the last time you tried, there was a fire alarm and the entire building had to evacuate.” He paused, staring at you while you opened your mouth to stop him from continuing. He beat you to it, though, by saying, “At four in the morning, too.”

“Me and Megs wanted a late-night-snack,” you argued playfully, slapping his bicep. 

“That you ended up getting in a 24 hour convenience store after running the entirety of the fire department and residents wild.”

“Semantics,” you brushed him off. Walking over to the plates, you started scooping portions and placing it on the plate until you remembered Megumi’s demand.

Your body unconsciously carried you to the photo frame and you picked it up, smiling slightly. Toji walked to stand beside you, his eyes uncharacteristically focused on the slightly overexposed picture. His fingers reached to pull it out of your hands and you didn’t stop him when he walked to the small ledge above the (fake) fireplace to place it between the small collection of Megumi photographs. It was a small gesture, but it was more than you could ever ask for.

Your mind skipped over the fact that all the other photos on the ledge were either taken by Megumi’s mother (five of them were) or had her in them holding Megumi (two of them did). Although whenever your friends had come over to your place, they’d cautiously asked you if you truly are OK with keeping pictures of his late wife in your living room and you’d always said that you were perfectly fine with it. Honestly, it was never your intention to erase her from their lives because, after all, she was Toji’s wife and Megumi’s mother. There was no erasing her, and that was fine whether or not you had a place in their lives.

When you came home from work the next evening, the house was relatively quiet. 

You walked into the living room, feet aching from having to wear short-stump heels but, still, heels all day. Every single day at your job as an editor for a magazine made you question whether or not you truly had the skill to walk around heels, even short-stump ones. But once again, the feeling of taking them off with delicacy because you were afraid the rough insides would scrape the parts of your skin your sock didn’t cover gave you a feeling of triumph. You were convinced that the day you come home without the visceral urge to shred the dark pieces of footwear into pieces would be the day you could claim you were invincible. 

You didn’t call out to Toji because you figured he was probably with Megumi, shopping and whatnot, doing simple father-son activities. He hadn’t texted you all day, and the little demon slithering through your thoughts wanted you to overthink (like you always did) and go berserk. But you had learned to tame that little demon (severely distracting yourself by doing anything and everything).

When you had changed out of your work clothes, showered under a moderately warm stream of water, and thoroughly washed your face to stave away the office particles, you sat down on the couch expecting a text from Toji. It was nine in the evening, and it was dark outside. He had never gone this long in a day without dropping you a text, even if it was just a word, and you weren’t wrong for expecting it. Breaking habits was difficult.

When you scrolled through your missed notifications and scrolled past your friends’ messages, making a mental compartment in your mind to reply to them later, you were surprised to find that Toji had, in fact, not texted you but Naoya Zen’in had. Toji’s cousin. It was simple, short, lighthearted, and it read:

missed you today!

It could have been Naoya texting the wrong person (it wouldn’t be the first time) but an itch in your mind told you it wasn’t.

??

It was simple, short, and lighthearted. You were surprised at how quickly the bubbles appeared on his side of the chat; you barely had time to exit the screen before he’d replied:

the stupid zen’in dinner is boring without you there to annoy toji

he said you were feeling sick tho. feel better

It was rude not to reply, but it was ruder for you to find out this way. Find out what, exactly? That Toji had simply not wanted you to go to the once-in-a-while Zen’in family dinner you had been to a grand total of one time. That was one incident you always pushed to the back of your mind—something you couldn’t do with the Monday morning incident(s) because they always played out in front of you, never missing a week—because if you thought about it too much, you would end up shattering your entire heart and it would all be your own, unstoppable mind’s doing.

Toji wasn’t the one to invite you to dinner last year. Surprisingly, the callous cousin who had manifested in the form of a breaker of peace today was the one to invite you. Your boyfriend had his jaw clenched throughout the entire interaction, and you were sure it was because Naoya wasn’t meant to meet you. You had been at his apartment while Megumi was in school to spend time with him when Naoya burst into his cousin’s home through the spare emergency key Toji had hesitantly given him. It started with Toji yelling at his cousin that it is actually rude to barge into someone’s house without knocking and that the rule applied even if they were cousins and yes, it still applied after they had come closer after being distant and despising each other their entire childhoods. It progressed to you making tea for Naoya that burnt his tongue and Toji telling him that you are no good with anything that heats up. It ended with Naoya bringing up the dinner and how he, too, was introducing his girlfriend (now his wife) to the family and it would be lovely for you to be there, too. He’d said something about divided fire.

The dinner itself was what you could call pleasant. You met his family and they were as civil as they could be surrounded by many people who are related to them. The entire time, though, Toji was bouncing his leg up and down and brushed off your hand when you tried to stop him. 

You do remember his mother had said something to you that ticked Toji off, and it wouldn’t take a mastermind to figure out why. 

“You’re the perfect girl to have as a daughter-in-law, dear.”

Truthfully, you hadn’t realized that Toji would see her words and level its severity higher than you would. That was why after the longest hand of the clock ticked thrice and his chair scraped against the floor when he stood up and walked away wordlessly, you were shocked.

You assumed that, today, Naoya had taken his wife to the Zen’in dinner. You could have texted her to confirm, but you knew. And you weren’t sure if you had any right to be mad at Toji over this. 

When you walked over to the television next to the (fake) fireplace, you noticed something missing. You knew it was missing because despite it only having been a day, you had looked at the picture of the three of you on that ledge for so long the night before when Megumi was fast asleep and Toji was immersed in a book and the image of the scene had been ingrained into your mind. It was somewhere beside the habits, Mondays, and love compartment. 

The picture wasn’t there.

And the only trace in the living room of you being a part of Toji and Megumi’s life had vanished as soon as it materialized. It was just a picture, but it was the first one that you had brought out in the house. Toji was the one to keep it between the other pictures, and he was the one who took it off, too. You understood second-thoughts, and you knew he probably had strong feelings about it but it still hurt. It was akin to being handed candy as a kid then having it taken away from you after the first bite.

You had been heartbroken before, but the way your heart sank into a cold abyss was a feeling you had never experienced before. You weren’t sure if this was your heart breaking or the tendrils of a boyfriend-girlfriend argument sowing its way into the universe and you were just the first to realize it. It had been a year and a day in this apartment you were convinced turned into a home over that time. A year and a day since you and Megumi began collecting stickers from the different stores you went to and stuck to the corners of his whiteboard. A year and a day since you and Toji woke up with each other in the same room after a night of you tossing and turning, coming to almost-there consciousness when Toji would steal the blanket back from you and pull you into his warm embrace because you had a tendency to hog it. 

The door clicked and you weren’t sure when you had gone back to the couch and began wordlessly staring at the ledge. You weren’t sure when this house stopped feeling like home for you, despite your best efforts to make it one. You weren’t sure if it ever was because there were no pictures of you, Toji, and Megumi in the living room.

You barely noticed Megumi coming towards you, pressing a slobbering kiss against your cheek and mumbling, “So tired. Gonna go to bed now. Goodnight.”

When Toji was the only presence you could feel—not see, because you were sure that seeing him would ruin you when you were in this state—in the room, you continued questioning whether or not you could get upset at him over this.

So, you said simply, “I haven’t had dinner yet.”

You heard him sigh softly. When he came to sit next to you and say, “Sorry, love. ‘Gumi’s practice ran late.” You knew Toji, so you knew he probably thought it was overkill to use his son for this lie.

It was like a time bomb was ticking, and you were the time bomb. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, and he was sweet. It made you think, for a hitch of a moment, that he cared. And you knew he did. Care, you mean. Just not in the way you had convinced yourself he did. It might’ve been your fault because you always saw Toji as your boyfriend when, in harsh, world-turning reality, Toji was just your boyfriend.

You have had many boyfriends over your lifetime, so what prompted you to believe Toji was anything more serious? Just because Toji came with a past baggage that weighed just about what you could help him carry and an adorable, hockey-loving seven-year-old kid? Because he moved in with you? People move in together all the time. Hell, you lived with a girl you only spoke to when you had to make a cleaning schedule for the room back in university for a year.

“No,” you replied truthfully. 

In that moment, you were scared of how this interaction would end but you were more scared of how the words you carefully locked away in your mouth had been tampered with by some universal force and were just about to come out. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. You finally turned around to look at him, and you didn’t realize you had stared over every inch of his face, as though memorizing it to a tee. He seemed to realize that, too, because his fingers fished for your hands and suddenly your hands were warm. Under his touch. 

“I haven’t had dinner.” You were sure the words would come rampaging out of your mouth, ready to strike blows at Toji where it hurt, but you were reduced to a mere shell within now and the minute you saw Naoya’s text. 

“Baby?” he asked and it hurt. “D’you want me to make you something? I can. Whatever you want.”

“How was dinner?” you asked, and you wanted to make yourself believe you weren’t waiting for a ‘ha, got you!’ moment, but you weren’t perfect. 

“We just stopped by the convenience store to get some food.” You hated that he was lying because if you didn’t know the truth, you’d believe him. Toji, you realized, was good at lying. 

“Naoya texted me,” you said, shaking your head as if you were trying to get rid of any thoughts.

“What?”

“Naoya texted me. Said he missed me at dinner.” At this point, you knew Toji could see the cracks in your facade. 

Toji didn’t reply for a moment, and you felt like you both were blessed with the silence you needed for a moment. You weren’t prepared, you didn’t have a set of bullet points you wanted to discuss with him like you usually did when you were at odds. No, this time you were discussing everything you always omitted from those bullet point lists; they were off-the-table because you knew they would do more harm than good. They would break the cycle of a comfortable relationship. 

“I didn’t think you wanted to go,” he said, sighing as he squeezed your hands lightly. 

You exhaled sharply. “Please don’t lie, Toji.”

“I mean it—”

“Please don’t lie.” If you weren’t aware of Megumi upstairs, you probably would’ve raised your voice an octave higher. Just because you felt like you had to. But as you pleaded with him, your words came out soft, delicate, and a complete contrast to the red, hot, fiery anger taking space through your veins. 

“I didn’t want you to go,” he admitted.

You had never been stabbed, but you were sure this is close to what it would feel like. “Why?” you croaked out. 

“My family, they’d start asking about when we’ll get married and… yeah. Jus’ didn’t want the hassle.”

“Will we?” You didn’t think before you spoke. 

“What?”

“Get married.”

“What?”

You changed the topic swiftly because truly, you didn’t care about getting married to Toji. As long as you had him and he had you. “Where’s the picture, Toji?”

“What picture?” Surprisingly, he sounded almost OK with talking to you and didn’t curl into himself like he usually did whenever topics such as this almost arose. Almost, because they never completely did. 

You felt like you were breaking an unwritten rule. 

“You know what picture.”

“I kept it in the room, Y/N,” he said, sounding as though he was treading carefully. As though you were a hibernating bear, ready to pounce. 

This shouldn’t be hard. Love shouldn’t—

“Why?” you whispered, closing your eyes as you felt the salty wetness build up. 

He didn’t respond, and you weren’t patient. 

“Why, Toji?—”

“Because it didn’t belong there.”

You wanted to laugh. He might as well have kicked you and knocked the air out of your lungs because the latter did happen. You found it hard to breathe under his stare, his nostrils flaring in annoyance the way they did. 

You didn’t want to ask why, because you knew why. You understood why, and you wished you could be blind to human emotion, to human flaws and errors because it would be a lot easier to walk away from this with the feeling that he was wrong and you were right.

When you stood up, your joined hands pulled away, too. If you weren’t as cynical as you were in that moment, you probably would’ve thought it was symbolic. Because a part of you was slowly pulling away from him, too. And love can be hard, you realized and accepted once again, but it doesn’t have to be dealt with all the time. 

You weren’t sure if you could continue fighting constantly with the thoughts inside your head just so you could feel that Toji is here because he wants to be, and he’s not doing it while comparing you to his late wife. It was difficult to feel you being pushed away from him and his son’s life, even though it happened in the form of a photo frame from a small printing store. But maybe, just maybe, love shouldn’t be harder than you can handle. 

“Do I belong here, Toji?” you asked, a sad smile forming on your lips. 

[hiveworks]

Interview with Mad Rupert, author of Sakana

September 2023

Sakana, the story of life and love in a fish market, is coming back from its hiatus soon! The strip comic style webcomic began in 2010 and follows Jiro, Taisei, Yuudai, and Chie as they navigate their relationships and learn to face their feelings. We asked creator Mad Rupert, author of Robber Robert and artist of Bunt!, for an interview to celebrate the series return.

Read Sakana | Shop books & merch | Read more Hiveworks comics

Sakana has been your baby for 13 years. What has the webcomic journey been like for you over the past decade?

It really has been over a decade, hasn’t it! There have certainly been ups and downs, periods where I was updating as much as I could, and also long hiatuses. I feel like webcomics have always been an amazing space to practice my craft and stretch my writing and drawing skills alike. You can kind of do anything you like with webcomics, and oftentimes people come up with wackier, and imho more interesting concepts than if they were beholden to a large publisher. Not that I haven’t made my fair share of traditionally-published comics and graphic novels… but there’s just something so gratifying about coming up with your own wild story and working towards its end on your own time. Webcomics are incredibly tough and time consuming, but also the ultimate form of self expression. 

What is the origin of Sakana? What made you want to tell this story?

Sakana actually started as a class project when I was a junior at the Savannah College of Art and Design. I had been accepted into the Sequential Art department’s yearly Japan trip to study comics and cartooning in Tokyo for a few weeks, and our final project was to create 11 comic strips based off of something that made a strong impact on us during the trip. We had visited the old inner market (now demolished) of the Tsukiji Fish Market at 4am one morning, and it was the most incredible place I’d ever been, so I decided to craft a short story that took place in the market. Beyond the first 11 strips, I decided to continue the story for as long as I could as a way to practice the comic techniques I was learning in class. That was over a decade and 600 strips ago! It really has become the most ambitious project I’ve ever undertaken.

Do you have the ending already written? Do you see a conclusion in sight?

Yes! I’ve always had something at least resembling an end in mind throughout most of the comic’s lifespan. For a long-format comic like SAKANA, I think it’s very important to have a rough ending planned out as early as possible, otherwise it becomes difficult to keep the narrative moving in a satisfying direction, drop little tidbits of plot that will pay off later, or even maintain your enthusiasm for the project. To be clear, the details of Sakana's “end” have changed many times, which is only natural with a very long project like this. But I’ve always kept crucial details the same: basically certain characters in a certain place at a certain time doing certain things (to keep from getting too spoilery haha.) HOW they get there, WHY they’re there, and WHAT exactly they’re doing will ebb and flow as the years go by and I myself get older and older. But having a general sense of the end in mind has kept things moving all this time. The story’s got one more volume to go, and then I’ll be done!

Your hiatus is a result of working on a traditionally published graphic novel, coming in 2024. Is there anything you can tell us about your book?

My new graphic novel is called Bunt! and it’s a collaborative effort between myself and my dear pal, Ngozi Ukazu (author of popular webcomic Check, Please!) Ngozi wrote the book and I drew it, and we’re both really proud of what we’ve made! It’s already available for preorder all over the place and it will officially be out in stores in February 2024. We’re really looking forward to getting out there this fall and winter and spreading the word about it!

You recently successfully completed a Kickstarter for an 18+ comic, Robber Robert, as well. What is it like balancing these different narratives, genres, and mediums of publishing comics?

It’s definitely been a struggle at times to balance everything, and I definitely don’t recommend working on 3 giant projects at the same time! I finally had to admit that I couldn’t do it all at once, which led to me putting Sakana and RR on hiatus to finish Bunt!, and then keeping Sakana on hiatus while I finished up RR. I really burned myself out on comics for a while, and it’s been a huge struggle to get myself back to a good place with my work. Finishing Bunt! and RR Chapter 1 has really helped reenergize me, but I can always feel myself trying to overload my work schedule again and again. It’s my greatest weakness as a professional artist.

What keeps you inspired?

Making something for myself, practicing my craft, and putting my own stories out there are all huge driving forces in my life. Learning to stop overwhelming myself with work has also helped a lot. Looking back on all the art I’ve made and all the different things I’ve tried makes me feel like I can do anything I put my mind to, so long as I give myself the time and space to enjoy the process.

Do you have any webcomic or graphic novel recommendations?

I’m a big fan of anything fantasy or sci-fi, especially if the narrative approaches the fantastical elements in a weird, unique, and kind of gay way haha. My favorite manga is currently Delicious in Dungeon, but I’m also a fan of historical series like Golden Kamuy and Bride’s Story. For webcomics, I love anything by Evan Dahm, like his long-format series Rice Boy and Vattu. As for Hiveworks comics, there’s too many to list individually but my current favorites are Fairmeadow by KP, and Tiger, Tiger by Petra Nordlund. 

Any advice for new readers of Sakana?

I would say…despite its high page count, it’s not that long of a read! The strip format keeps it moving at a pretty quick clip when read all at once (but it certainly didn’t feel like that over the last 13 years updating one page at a time!) I know that the format and the black and white rendering might feel a little dated in the current era of Webtoons and full-color stories, but I’m too stubborn to change now, and I really appreciate anybody giving it a shot! Also, no matter who you are, or how much you dislike him in the beginning, Yuudai will probably be your favorite character.

You can read Sakana for free at sakana-comic.com and print books are available at hivemill.com

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

How Halsin’s “once you get to my age” conversation not long after he finally recruited as a party member SHOULD have gone if you were an elf and could call him out on not being old.

Because as a drow my Tav should be allowed to call him out and tease him over it

(My Tav, but written pretty generically and without any gender indicators for Tav so knock yourself out)

————————

“You didn’t answer the part about lovers” you say as you fold your arms. Halsin held a certain level of fascination to you. Maybe it was his sheer size, maybe it was his confidence, or his willingness to just listen. Maybe it was because you truly could not get a read on him.

He had been frustratingly dodging most questions about himself until now, softly smiling and telling you ‘there will be time for questions later. I must keep my focus on the task at hand’ and now somehow managed to tell you an incredible amount and nothing at all at the same time.

“I’m 350 years old. Of course there have been lovers. Just because I love nature doesn’t mean I’m betrothed to it. Though sometimes, nature needs reminding…” he trailed off.

Another redirection, talks of the past while not acknowledging that the question was about the current and offering an interesting tidbit instead. You recognized what he was trying to do, but unfortunately his smirk while speaking about nature alluded to an all too good to pass up story.

“Hold on- nature needs reminding of what exactly?” you ask.

“Well, I didn’t pick this scar up in battle. I was in wildshape, only I forgot it was the season when bears are particularly social. A she-bear claimed me as her own- and did not appreciate being spurned” he said.

Less riveting than you hoped, but still interesting. And certainly not enough to convince you to drop the question.

“Don’t leave me hanging- is there someone in your life right now?” Simple. Direct. Surely no way to dodge it again.

“Right now? I bed down alone, I’m afraid” he answers. There’s a small drop in his voice, not sorrow, but, disappointment?“Perhaps once I talk less of curses and parasites, my fortunes will improve”.

It was not quite the answer you were expecting. A clear answer this time, but something in the way his words hung in the air felt off.

You look over his face, searching for some glimmer of information but are met with the same relaxed but stoic expression he used when he was done talking about a subject.

“Tell me something about yourself that I wouldn’t even think to ask” you change the subject, hoping to find any bit of interesting information from him.

“Hmm, I suppose you wouldn’t be shocked to learn I love animals and nature? I know, I know; well-trodden territory. Well, let’s see… I whittle in my spare time, and I’ve something of a sweet tooth- though everyone’s very amused when I say I like honey”.

A smile plays on your lips, you genuinely could not tell if he was avoiding saying much and choosing to give you obvious answers purposefully or not.

“Whittling? What do you make?” you ask, fishing for anything you could.

“Ornaments, utensils- and ducks. I like ducks”.

New information gained and yet nothing new truly learned.

“So you turn into a bear and you like honey?” you repeat back to him, “A little on the nose”.

“I like what I like. Once you get to my age you realize there’s little point in denying yourself, so long as other’s aren’t affected” Halsin replies.

“Your age?” you laugh, in the grand scheme of elven lives Halsin was young still, only a few decades older than yourself despite speaking as if he was at least 800. “And how old do you think I am?”

Halsin flashed a quick smile, brief but betraying a lot of emotion. The sort guilty smile you offer when you’re caught.

“My apologies. I don’t encounter too many full elves these days” his face relaxes, not his usual careful composure, but a true relaxation. “No, I supposed 350 is young still, and sometimes I need reminding of that too. You get used to seeing life on the scale that the others see. People treat you as old and you start to believe it, or at least you let them make their assumptions about you”.

“So ‘old, wise Halsin’ is an act?” you tease.

“I am wise!” he laughs, a truly deep laugh that rumbled from his chest. A laugh that spreads into a sense of warmth within you. “If I wasn’t then you wouldn’t have come to my grove seeking my knowledge and skills!”

“I was told to seek out the old, wise archdruid of the the grove and imagine my surprise seeing an elf, only decades older than myself acting as if he was as least twice his age!” You laughed back, unable to keep his laughter from spreading to you. “Though I suppose I can keep quiet and let you continue this front, if you can keep up with me, old man, because I very much so am still young” you tease.

“You’ll find I’m more than able to keep up with anything you’ve got, don’t let me fool you into thinking my size is just for show. I think you’ll find I’m more than capable of going all day and night” the tone that crept into his voice let you know that he very much knew why you were asking if he currently had a lover earlier.

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday

tagged by @bidisasterbuckdiaz 💖

me impatiently waiting for tuesday to share a snippet bc im obsessed with bucktommy rn and after some editing im loving everything i've written in this fic so far and wanna share every word of it asap lmao

here's a bit more, and yes they are talking about the evan thing bc at first it bothered me so much, but it grew on me (with fics and some takes on it i saw and just the more i saw it and thought about it) and now im kinda loving it lol

prev snippet

___

“If you wanted me out of my shirt, you should’ve just said so.” he murmurs.

“I want you out of your shirt.” Buck says without hesitation, and Tommy releases a breathless, surprised laugh.

“Suddenly so forward.” he shakes his head, capturing Buck’s lips again. Well, Buck has been kind of shy and flustered with Tommy, but that’s not always how he is, not how he used to be.

“Oh, you have no idea.” Buck grins, and then, still a little hesitantly, places his palm over Tommy’s thigh where it rests over Buck’s knee. Tommy looks at him curiously, and Buck’s grin widens as he pulls his leg up and over his lap, getting Tommy to properly straddle him now, his shirt falling over his back again, as he releases a surprised gasp. “Now that’s better.” he adds, getting used to the unfamiliar weight, Tommy being bigger and heavier than Buck’s used to with his previous partners, obviously, but it- it feels good, right, almost comforting, Tommy’s steady and firm presence surrounding him now. Plus, it is kinda hot, too.

“Evan.” Tommy just says breathlessly, and Buck’s smile softens, one of his hands moving to the side of Tommy’s neck, just resting there.

“You know you’re one of the very few people who call me that?” he whispers, the mood shifting a bit from hot and impatient to soft and warm, and pleasant, and Buck really feels so comfortable with Tommy.

“Yeah, I noticed.” Tommy replies, settling more comfortably, wrapping his arms around Buck’s neck loosely, but his hands play with Buck’s hair lightly. He sits far enough on Buck’s lap that their crotches don’t touch, and Buck’s not sure if he’s happy about that. “Does it bother you?” he asks with a hint of worry.

“No, no, of course not.” Buck rushes to say. If it did, he’d say something. No, it doesn’t bother him. The opposite, in fact. “I actually-” he can’t help a small awed smile. “I think I like it.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Tommy tilts his head curiously, and he’s so cute, and Buck needs to kiss him. So he does. Because he can. And he can’t stop smiling.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck @tizniz @your-catfish-friend @hippolotamus

[dangerpronebuddie]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday!!

Tagged by @tizniz @inell who both shared WONDERFUL stuff y'all should absolutely show some love!! 💜🩷

This wip is both heaven and hell for me. It's new territory, but I really want to write it. I shared a little bit in Screenshot Friday, and a few of y'all did see what it was 😁. For some insane reason, I'm writing a time loop fic for 7x04. Why did I do this to myself? I don't know. But I'm having a lot of fun with it so far. Shockingly, I have more of the ending than the actual plot written so... 😅. Slow going. Oh well! Have some of what happens in loop one, during my favorite part of the episode:

"Well listen, I- I think it's great..." Just like in his dream, he trips over his words. He doesn't know why. He's had the stutter his whole life. It only comes out when he's really excited or really nervous (see also: fucking terrified). He's not either of those things now, so why does it feel like he's forcing the words out? His crush on Tommy shouldn't be affecting him this much. First the hangar and now this? Get a grip, Buckley, it's not that deep. Eddie looks up at him with a raised brow. Fuck, he noticed. Buck does his best to cover up... whatever it is he's trying to hide: "you know? You- you can't have enough friends, right?" Eddie smiles at that, a small and proud thing, and Buck is proud of him. He's come so far in his healing and he's finally allowing himself to be happy. Buck should be ecstatic! But... Why does he have to be so happy with Tommy? “Right,” Eddie says before looking away. “Y’know, it's like that thing when you meet somebody and you just… click. Y’know what I mean?” Something squeezes painfully in Buck's chest. For a split second, he thinks he's having another embolism. But his blood keeps pumping, his heart keeps beating… and cracks a little at his words. It's not a dig, surely not. Eddie wouldn't… But then, he has been all over creation with Tommy the last few weeks. Maybe they do click better than Buck ever could. With either of them. “I do,” he says once he unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “I really do.”

(tags under the cut. As always please let me know if you want to be added/ removed):

@13shadesofanni @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @loveyouanyway

@ronordmann @steadfastsaturnsrings @daffi-990 @kitteneddiediaz

@exhuastedpigeon @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @thekristen999

@actuallyitsellie @fortheloveofbuddie @wildlife4life @theotherbuckley

@rainbow-nerdss @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @lunarspark-cos @idealuk @shipperqueen6 @slowlyfoggydestiny

@misshiss727 @lin27 @jshadow01 @orangeboxfox92

@thegeekcompanion @emilybahu @lemotmo @awolfnamed-nyx

@kaseysgirl86-blog @darkrose6578 @totallynotagoraphobic @dandelioncasey @bibuckbuckgoose @whatsgoodinthehood22

@lady-elaine @buckley-diaz-rules @buddiedaydreamer911 @monroemary @pirate-hunter

@nonspeakingkiku @eddiedisasterdiaz @drunkandsupportiveeddie @traumabuddies @epicbuddieficrecs @elvensorceress @disasterbuck

@tofanasmuse @gnoeltop and anyone else who wants to share!! 🥰🩷

[drabbles-mc]

Lucky Charm

Coco Cruz x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff

With the help of This Prompt List by @creativepromptsforwriting and my trusty Wheel of Names with every character I’ve ever written for, I’m aiming to write a fic in 500 words or less every day of March. We’ll see how far we get!

Prompt: four-leaf clover

Word Count: 500

A/N: It's been so long since I've written for Coco but this was such a fun little tidbit to make for him 🥰

There were a lot of things that Coco believed in, but he wasn’t sure if luck was one of them. He was a big believer in fate, that all things both good and bad had to happen to get you where you needed to go. Luck always felt synonymous with chance and that didn’t sit right with him, especially when he thought about you, about the daughter you shared.

It wasn’t until he was elbow-deep in the hood of his car and she came bursting in the garage with a four-leaf clover pinched tightly between her fingers that he really started to buy into it. She was just so little, so excited as she skidded to a stop a few inches away from him.

“Dad!” she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

He looked over at her, stray curls falling into his face as he did. He raised his eyebrows as he looked between you standing in the doorway of the garage and the little girl standing in front of him.

Setting down the wrench in his hand, he wiped his hands off on his jeans before crouching to get to her level. “What’s this?”

“A four-leaf clover!” she said, volume increasing along with her excitement levels. “Mama said they’re good luck!”

A smirk curled his lips as he spared you a glance. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!” She moved it closer to his face, almost close enough so that he would have to cross his eyes to try and see it properly. “Here! For you.”

“Me?” he asked with a laugh, hand pressing against his chest in a gesture to himself.

“You!” She pressed the clover against the back of his hand, prompting him to turn it so that he could take it from her. “A good luck charm.”

He chuckled as he looked at it in his palm. “Ah, I got you and your Mama over there—I already got more luck than I need.”

“That’s luck you can take with you,” she stated it so matter of factly that he didn’t have any room to argue the point.

“Guess I will then, huh?”

She nodded, pleased with the outcome. She stepped in and threw her arms around him in a hug before taking off back towards the door. “I’m gonna go look for more! Bye! Love you!”

He laughed, calling after her as he stood up and made his way over to you, “Love you back!” He shook his head as he looked at the plant in his hand then back up at you. “Good luck charm, huh?”

You laughed, resting your hands on his shoulders. “I just told her what it was. The rest was all her.”

He smiled and shook his head. “I don’t know if I buy that.”

“You’re a lucky man, Johnny Coco Cruz.” You nodded towards the clover in his hand. “You got the proof of it now.”

He laughed as he pulled you tighter against his side. “Can’t argue with that.”

[biteofcherry]

Eva! I hope you’re doing well! I wanted to stop by and show you some love! But also tell you…

I have Dom Andy and his future sub on the brain! When I tell you I’ve been craving some Dom Andy…

Is there any way you can give a little tidbit…

A little idea on how that’s going?

Sweet Bella! 💖

Craving some Dom Andy, you say? I have to admit that I haven't thought much about him recently, nor written anything. Sorry! But I have this unposted bit and I'll gladly spoil you with it 😘

Ruby Slippers Masterlist

Ruby Garden Series

Andy Barber x reader; Dom!Andy Barber x submissive reader

warnings: b*d*s*m; Dom/sub dynamics; power imbalance; safe sane and consensual; mention of spanking (but none happening in this)

Too overwhelmed with everything shiny and new, and wicked, that you watched happen all around the club, you didn’t notice that the conversation between two Doms ended and Andy’s attention was fully back to you. 

He kept stroking your hair gently, seemingly untired of the soothing gesture since he started it.

He studied you as you looked around the club with eyes wide and curious; like a little apprehensive kitten wanting to explore the big world, but scared of taking a step. 

It’s been a while since Andy took care of a very green submissive. 

To be honest, he never felt ready for such a challenging dynamic, preferring his partners experienced in the basics and quickly attuning to his tempo. But your sweet, helpless expression pulled on strings inside his chest and caring for you - even in that simple way like guiding you through your first night at the Ruby Garden - fulfilled a certain need.

You didn’t notice Andy’s hand stilling on top of your head, until he tapped it. You turned your head and looked up at him, eyes wide in bewilderment from what you were watching as well from surprise upon realizing you were still kneeling at his feet, nearly naked.

“You look a little overwhelmed,” Andy traced a finger down your cheek and you couldn’t stop the pleasant shiver from rolling down your spine. “Is this the first BDSM club you’ve been to?”

“I’ve been to some.” You replied, with a dismissive shrug.

You hoped to sound cool about it, nonchalant even, as if you weren’t that pathetic as the Masters here probably saw you as.

However, Master Andy arched an eyebrow, his face displaying doubt.

“Which ones?” He asked and you realized there was no way you could lie to him, since he seemed to sense bullshit a mile away.

Was it his trait alone, or were the legends about real Doms true? Dominants that truly paid attention to a submissive’s body language and ticks, searching for all the signs of various emotions, not only focusing on what is pleasurable to them. 

Swallowing hard, you weaved your fingers together before replying:

“Um, to Strike and Red Room.”

You preferred not to remember those few visits, since they made you cringe and flee away before you got brave enough to join in any real scene. But they were clubs you stepped inside, so it wasn’t exactly a lie.

Andy’s blue eyes darkened, his forehead creasing in a frown. His fingers gripped your hair, this time pulling harshly enough to tilt your head back as he leaned down over you.

“It’s a good thing Anne brought you here.” He spoke calmly, but there was hard displeasure in his voice and you instantly felt like shrinking and apologizing. 

“Strike? Red Room? Those places are trash. Rape potential, not a ground for practicing safe BDSM. Just for risking getting your cute ass there you should be spanked.”

Sudden wave of heat filled your chest and seemed to spread through your body. It was a pinch of shame, but mostly it was a visceral reaction to the threat of having Andy’s big, heavy hand on your butt.

“Well, now,” Andy’s eyes sparked with interest as he noted the hitch in your breath and how your lips parted and pupils dilated. “I see you like spanking, birdie.”

Again, he read you so easily as if you said your thoughts aloud.

It took you a moment to find your voice. The pull on your hair and the overpowering closeness of Andy made you so excited, so thrilled. Reactions quite new to you, but which you welcomed with joy.

Then he said spanking in that low, velvety voice and you were wet in a flash.

“I-” you had to pause to wet your lips- “I don’t know. I’ve never been spanked.”

Andy’s eyes pierced right through you, dark and sparking with mischievous fire. He looked very pleased and excited.

“Oh, we will definitely do that. Soon, I think.” His grip on your hair eased and his hand slid down your neck.

“But first-” Andy stood up and gave you his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet- “let’s go exploring. I’ll walk you around, we’ll watch a few scenes and the equipment.” 

He kept himself in your space, not letting you withdraw from him an inch.

His warmth and the scent of his cologne wrapped around you like a hypnotizing haze.

One of Andy’s hands was on your ass, squeezing your flesh unabashedly; the other hand was wrapped around your wrist, thumb rubbing beneath the soft leather of the handcuff.

“And each time, you will tell me how much it arouses you.” His announcement and his tone made you drip.

You were quite sure Andy was very much aware of the effect he had on you.

“You’ll tell me what you want to try, what scares you and what you definitely don’t want to do. You will admit when something turns you on. And if you can’t find your big girl words, I will slide my fingers between your thighs and check with my fingers how wet that needy hole of yours got.”

Your needy hole was already wet and hot. You didn’t need to play voyeur to seek what aroused you, since it seemed Andy was it. 

“If I find you lying or evading, birdie,” he pinched your buttock, “I’ll punish you.” 

[monsterrae1]

🧑🏽‍🍼tease tidbit Tuesday 🧑🏼‍🍼

Tagged by @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @tizniz @spotsandsocks @dangerpronebuddie @exhuastedpigeon @underwaterninja13 @wikiangela thank you besties!!

A little something something from my abo fic and also a question:

This fic is a wip and idk when I’ll be done but would you guys like me to start posting now and update as I write or wait until I’m done?

Anyway here’s the snippet:

Buck chewed on his lip again, the same spot that was already raw, Eddie balled his hands into fists to resist the urge to press his thumb against it and break the skin free, to soothe the irritation with his touch.

“Okay,” Buck said after a while, and after Eddie thoroughly washed his hands he hesitantly handed his baby to Eddie.

“I’m not gonna go anywhere,” Eddie assured him, “I’ll hold him right here while you eat.”

Buck nodded, and finally let go completely of Thomas. They both held their breath waiting to see if Thomas was going to wake up and start crying, but all he did was nuzzle into Eddie, his little nose pressed to Eddie’s chest, and settling back to sleep.

“Uh,” Buck tilted his head, looking at his son confused, “He hasn’t done that with anyone before.”

Eddie tried to ignore the fluttering in his chest at the implications, “He must recognize my scent from the ambulance,” Eddie said, “That’s all.” Buck nodded but he was still staring at them with a little awe in his eyes, “C’mon, get some food in you, you look like you’re gonna pass out any moment.”

Buck chuckled, “You’re not wrong about that, I feel like I haven’t slept since I went into labor.”

“Well, I don’t have anywhere to be for the next few hours, and I did promise to help you paint too, so you can get some sleep while I’m here, I promise to be quiet.”

Buck stared at him, stopping wolfing down his food for a second, “Listen, Eddie, huh, that’s very nice of you, and I appreciate it, but you don’t need to.” He took a deep breath, “I just had a baby, I’m not really looking for courtship or anything like that.”

Eddie blushed, “No, I know, I promise I’m not gonna try and court you, I genuinely just wanna help, from one single dad to another, okay?” Even if Eddie had wanted to court Buck, he knew that right now wasn’t the right time, if ever, for all that Eddie knew Buck’s alpha might come back any day now and he wouldn’t need Eddie’s help anymore.

Tagging if they wanna share anything:

@loserdiaz @hoodie-buck @bi-buckrights @prettyboybuckley @eddiebabygirldiaz @saybiwithme @doublecheekedkinard @honestlydarkprincess @bigfootsmom @spaceprincessem @bidisasterbuddies @jacksadventuresinwriting @jesuisici33 @evanbi-ckley @911onabc @housewifebuck @wildlife4life @rogerzsteven @loveyouanyway @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @father-salmon @giddyupbuck @devirnis @the-likesofus @elvensorceress @spagheddiediaz @sunshinediaz and whoever else wants to do it

[radioisntdead]

(To maybe save our hearts from the angst, how about a cuter idea? could be any gender really and be seen as platonic or not just very vague fluffy fun)

A reader who is similar age to Susan and is the opposite type of old person, a gentle Grandparent who has old person candies at all times. Most importantly however is the only one who can calm Susan's feral chihuahua energy, only when they need to of course.

They play cribbage on weekends, and definitely both chat about the youngins- maybe playfully feud on which is better Knit or Crochet

Good evening my dear! This is a little shorter then I wanted but I did write it in a hair salon, where at the time of posting I'm still in.

Bitter and sweet

Warnings!!!

Cannibalism, Reader is GN but gives off old lady grandma vibes, this is written in little drabbles mainly because I wrote them in an hair salon

Susan had a neighbor, she lived to the left of her house, while Susan's house was more stale and strict appearing her neighbor's was more soft colors, with gnomes outside and a lovely garden filled with all types of hell's flora,

You'd think the two would be at odds but they got along well, going out for tea each day, on weekends they'd go to bingo or play a game of cribbage, although they did get into tiffs about what was better between crochet and knitting, like how crochet is easier for some to pick up with the sole hook, or how knitting uses less yarn then crochet, They were dear friends, and this is some tidbits with them.

You and Susan had opposing aesthetics but that didn't stop the two of you from matching outfits in some way or another, she wore her usual pinkish dress? You were two feet away from her in more brighter attire.

"Kids these days are getting more and more foolish each day, fucking crying in the middle of the streets!"

Susan said, sat on a bench looking across the street at some poor cannibal gal sobbing as her dearest assumingly ended things

When you didn't respond she looked over at you only to see that you were gone,

"Where the hell- [Name]!"

You had dashed over to the gal, swatting at her former lover with your handfan, scolding him for breaking things off in the middle of the streets inside of somewhere private or inside a restaurant as the girl sobbed into your arms,

"Shh, it's alright you deserve better, someone with manners!"

You said patting her back, glaring at the unmannered former lover while Susan groaned from her seat, you just had to butt into other people's business didn't you!

Like she didn't do the same at times.

......

"You uncultured, red-40 looking, bad dental hygiene, modern technology radio man!"

Susan raised her cane to the Radio Deer man, you had just entered Rosie's Emporium for a snack,

"Susan! No! That is terribly rude!"

You shouted dashing over quickly before Susan could do anything, pushing down her cane, while apologizing,

"My apologies! I'll escort her out, here buy yourself something tasty"

You said taking the radio demons hand and placing some money and a few pieces of candy into it before linking an arm with Susan and taking her outside while scolding her as she grumbled, leaving the Radio demon lowkey stunned and missing his mother.

You were how he imagined she would've been if she lived to be elderly.

.....

"For fuck's sake! Why are you in my house?"

Susan shouted as she walked into her kitchen only to see you adorned in an old lady apron chopping away at some vegetables while some type of meat simmered on the stove,

"Making us lunch obviously! I have news about that lovely gal we met on the street a few months ago! She's going steady with my nephew, the one with the good job not the one that's married, and I must tell you what her scandalous ex lover had to say-"

You rambled on, mixing up slang from different decades Susan could care less about the gal who was sobbing on the streets but you seemed to hellbent on telling her about the 'tea' as you called it.

.....

"Susie, let's listen to what the princess has to say before booing her off the stage, this is why she called you an old bitch''

You said linking an arm with Susan before shouting over at Charlie as Rosie pulled her aside,

"My apologies!"

You chased down Charlie at a later date to give her some candies for her troubles with Susan,

You paid visits to the hotel after that, bringing treats for the residents.

....

"Knitting is superior, it uses less yarn then your hook, knitting takes far more skill and that little crochet thing seems easier.''

Susan said knitting a scarf as you sat across from her, crocheting a net.

"Susie, you are my dearest friend and I love you, But I can and will surplex you into a wall if you say that again."

Hearing that while you wore the sweetest smile would strike fear into the average sinner.

......

"Are we thinking barbecue? Grilled? Perhaps baked? Oo I recently picked up some new seasonings we could try!"

You shouted over to Susan as you threw a net at an exorcist pulling them down and stabbing them with an angelic weapon before discarding them to the side to harvest their wings later,

"I don't give a donkeys ass as long as they taste good!"

.....

"Susie?"

"Hm?"

"I'm dying again."

"Don't be dramatic!''

She smacked you gently on the head with her cane as you broke out in laughter, angel wing in your hand and gold around your mouth.

Good evening folks! I am actively dangling Susan around like a keychain, I should invest in a Susan keychain, are Susan keychains a thing???

[rassicas]

Hey, I have a question stemming from the most recent splatoon band lore. My understanding is that a) Shiver is an Octoling b) Octolings did not live on the surface until recently and yet c) Deep cut knew (of) each other as kids. Am I missing something, because I can't figure out how all of these things can be true at the same time.

I've seen some confusion floating about and I've gotten a few asks about this exact thing, so I think its about time I made a little write up about it. the fault here is in point b. The truth is: In Inkadia, Octolings did not openly live on the surface until recently.

Meaning that -outside of Inkadia, there were Octolings living freely. -within Inkadia, there were Octolings living in Inkopolis in secret, before the events of Octo Expansion, and even before Marina left the army. For the first point...the band Diss-Pair!

its mentioned in the Haikara Walker artbook that Ikkan met Warabi overseas, as in outside of Inkadia. it's mentioned in Warabi's bio that his parents (presumably octolings!) are famous actors, and that Warabi has toured around many different countries. (source)

And more importantly...

Massive floods were the catalyst for the Great Turf War, with habitable land being an already scarce resource. Deep Cut's ancestors used their clan's powers to create a whirlpool that drained the floods and saved their homeland. (ENG just says the '3 lights consumed the disaster' but JP states they made a whirlpool. with the Eiffel tower's presence and all the debris in the crater...could it be the floodwater drained into Alterna?)

So what happens if there's no flood? No war, no octarian exile. I doubt Shiver's clan is the only long standing family of Octolings living freely in that area. after all, Octolings and Inklings living in harmony was the norm before the war.

I'm thinking that the Great Turf War was limited to inkadia... Or its something like the great floods affected various parts of the world, and the GTW was actually a world war, and battles broke out globally. Regardless, not everywhere had such battles between inklings and octolings, such as the Splatlands. (I'm leaning towards it being an inkadia-only thing, but we know next to nothing about the rest of splatoon's earth right now) Note how far the GTW craters are from the Splatsville. (hi res)

as for Octarians other than Marina living in Inkadia before OE...there's tidbit that implies this.

In Haikara Walker, there's an article about the Inkopolis Backstreets (the s2 tutorial area). It was the center of Inkopolis street fashion culture before Inkopolis plaza took the stage. So at least prior to ME 2014. The article is written in-universe by an author who personally experienced this change in culture over the years. (you can read it here) At the end, it is revealed the author is an adult octoling wearing a hat and mask to cover some Octarian traits.

(It's just a reused player model. but interesting to think about...woody kawahagi, what is your origin story?)

[e-louise-bates]

Every time I read Jane of Lantern Hill, I am more convinced that LM Montgomery deliberately structured it as a modern fairy tale. You have the wicked queen/stepmother holding the princess captive (Grandmother Kennedy and Robin). You have the castle where the princess is held captive (60 Gay Street). You have the jealous older sister (Aunt Irene). You have the prince succumbing to the older sister's spell that separates him from his true love (Andrew's blind spot toward Aunt Irene). You have the good fairy/benign nature spirit/witch who is morally neutral (Little Aunt Em). You have the protagonist searching desperately for the means to break the spell keeping the prince and princess apart (Jane's feverish quest after the "lost word" at the end).

And it's fascinating, because rather than Jane being the princess who needs rescuing by a prince, instead it's Jane doing the rescuing (we're told early on in the story that the keystone of Jane's nature is found in the words, "Can I help?"), and both the prince and the princess are rescued by her courage, faithfulness, understanding, and love.

Courage: she overcomes her fear of cows, saying, "How can I blame mother for not standing up to grandmother when I can't stand up to a few cows?" thus symbolically redeeming Robin's cowardice. Faithfulness: when given the choice of how to spend her second summer, Jane chooses to return to Prince Edward Island, thus redeeming Robin's faithlessness. Understanding: thanks to Little Aunt Em's wisdom, Jane is able to hear both sides of the story from her parents, and offers to both of them the understanding that they lack toward each other, thus redeeming both their foolishness. And love: Jane's love for both her parents brings her to the point of death, which causes Andrew to overcome his pride and contact Robin, and Robin to overcome her fear and come to be with them, and so they are both redeemed and rescued.

(This breaks down a little bit because toward the end of the book the narrative--and Jane--veers in sympathy much more toward Andrew, and we never see him breaking free of Aunt Irene, but we also know* LMM was planning a sequel to Jane of Lantern Hill that never got written, and so I wonder if she was planning on having that book be the one where Andrew's eyes are opened to Irene's machinations--or if she felt that it would simply be too unrealistic, even for a fairy tale, to have a spoiled, pampered man be made aware of the flaws of the one who'd always spoiled and pampered him, and so let that slide. Who knows?)

Some day I'd love to do a deep dive into Jane of Lantern Hill to go further into exploring this idea, as well as studying LMM's journals and her notes for the book to see if there's evidence outside the story to back up my theory, but alas, I have no time or resources to do so now. Someday!

*I cannot find my source for that tidbit, I apologize, but I know I read somewhere that LMM had been planning a sequel and that she was going to call it Jane and Jody. Oh for what might have been!

[bishopinblue]

The thing I absolutely adore about Sanemi and how he's written is that unless you listen to what other characters say about him and read the little tidbits about him behind the scenes, he does come off as the biggest asshole. We don't see a lot of him being a caring person in the surface story, but there's things and details about him on the side that all point to him being a softer person. Even in his most vicious moments (like the recent ep with Genya) there are reasons for some of the violent things he does.

He attacks Genya not just out of anger, but it also comes off as him low-key wanting to keep his brother safe. He knows Genya doesn't have a breathing style and points out that it makes Genya weaker. His follow-through, on surface level, is indeed harsh because of Genyas confession. But when you look into more about him you can absolutely see that it could be for other reasons. Genya wasn't going to listen to him, so he took extreme measures to "save" his little brother. Is it uncouth? Yes! But it would have been effective.

Sanemi is a complex character who doesn't need a lot of things spelled out because the events that will occur tell more about him than upfront words will. I've been spoiled to a few things already and that's probably why I love the Shinazugawa brothers as much as I do. Both are very well written and I have to applaud the author once again for making another pair of dynamic siblings that I have come to love deeply.

[ilovebeingt4t]

a (not) little rant about total drama’s portrayal of dissociative identity disorder in ROTI and AS

a few little tidbits before we get into the juice…

-i don’t have DID ! i have a dissociation disorder and i’ve done a lot of research on DID, but that obviously doesn’t mean i know as much as someone in a system would. if i make any mistakes or you want to add/correct anything, please do !

-since there isn’t an official name for the system as a whole, i’m gonna use “mike system” to refer to mike, chester, svetlana, vito, manitoba, and mal as a system

-before anyone says it, i know it’s “just a kids’ show” but it’s a kids’ show i’m insane and not normal about. so i’m very passionate about this. also kids’ shows should still be normal about mental illnesses/disabilities so idc

alright stinkers… let’s get into it

ok ! mike systems DID in ROTI isn’t GOOD representation but it isn’t like. the worst out there compared to some other media. some huge positives are the way the alters have actual triggers, and that everyone in the system IS portrayed as their own person, not just an extension or part of mike. i interpret the “gasp” the body does with switches as a stand in for dissociation (since they couldn’t really have him just sit there and stare into space bc of plot/time reasons) and it’s very easy to assume the role of everyone in the system from their personalities and triggers. the best example of this to me is vito ! vito is a “tough guy” who’s triggered to front by his shirt coming off, it’s easy to put the pieces together and assume his role is a protector who formed due to sexual abuse.

obviously, the use of the outdated term multiple personality disorder, the very quick switches, the fact the writers obviously did not actually research DID and just wanted a silly crazy character, and probably more i’m forgetting rn, are NOT issues to just ignore because of the good stuff. it’s definitely NOT good or super accurate representation by any means, but i don’t think it’s exactly super bad either. it’s iffy but has redeeming qualities to it.

another plus about mike system in ROTI, even though this isn’t really part of the portrayal of DID as a disorder, is that mike has a love interest that isn’t written as a joke. i feel like having mike in a romantic relationship is a BIG positive representation wise. it’s really important to me that even though zoey is confused and weirded out when she didn’t know what was going on, once she found out mike was part of a system she became more understanding and didn’t give up on him. being part of a system doesn’t mean you can’t have a partner, friends, etc and mike being in a wholesome healthy relationship is a nice breath of fresh air compared to other media portraying DID.

NOW. LETS ADDRESS MAL AND ALL STARS. GOOD LORD.

all stars has an issue with watering down characters and making poor plot/character choices in general, and in my opinion it’s the worst with mike system. ROTI had questionable at times but ok DID rep with mike system, which is why it’s so disappointing that AS took the “evil alter” route and whatever the hell the button thing was… bc they were SO close with having ok representation and then they threw it all away for an overdone and harmful stereotype. mike system in ROTI is a MASTERPIECE compared to whatever the hell was going on in AS.

even when you take into account that in a real life system, mal is most similar to the role of a persecutor (an alter who sabotages the body’s relationships and causes harm to the body/other alters as a way to “protect” everyone in their eyes (oops ! i was wrong. a persecutor isn’t always a protector, however they can take the role of a persecutor and protector which is where i got confused. mal is a both a persecutor and protector to me)) which makes SOME of his actions explainable TO AN EXTENT, it’s clear the writers didn’t have that intent and just wanted a spooky evil alter, which is really disappointing. along with the button issue, which is just…. so insane….

i choose to believe for my own sanity that the button was sort of an emergency temporary dormancy button and that chester fr just lied/didn’t know and made something up. but that obviously isn’t canon, and IN CANON the body’s trauma and serious disorder was literally gone because of the PRESS OF A BUTTON and it is absolutely ridiculous. and it’s portrayed as a GOOD THING.

systems are systems because it is the only way the body and brain can maintain stability and live after serious repeated trauma. in a real situation with a system, if there was somehow a way to get rid of alters in literal seconds, the consequences would be ABSOLUTELY DISASTROUS and unstable. obviously, integration and dormancy CAN be a good thing depending on the system, but it is a LOOONG and complicated process and watering it down to the press of a button in your brain is so inappropriate and insensitive. literally why did they do that. it’s just so disappointing to go from what mike system was in roti to what they became in all stars.

sorry u guys i am just passionate about this

[beskarandblasters]

Either I’m Careless or I Wanna Get Caught - Copycat Killer Part Three

Famous Singer!Joel Miller x Stalker Fan!Reader AU

Copycat Killer Masterlist

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: After finding Joel’s wallet following their “encounter” in the bathroom at the bar, the reader decides to be a good samaritan and drop it off at his house.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, no outbreak, written in third person, stalker behavior from the reader, drug use, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), degrading pet names, vaginal sex, rough sex, hair pulling, no use of y/n

“H-how did you find my house?” he asks with a concerned edge in his voice. 

She holds out his wallet with a shaky hand. The furrow in his brow softens as the realization hits him. He takes back his wallet and utters a “thanks” before turning to head back inside. She stands there with wide eyes, watching him. And then he feels bad; he feels like he needs to throw her a bone. He sighs before saying, “Would ya like to come in?”

She freezes for a second, eyes somehow widening even more before nodding silently. He steps aside to let her in. And once again… the interior of his house is everything she thought it would be; slightly messy, dark with the shades drawn, and copious amounts of drugs on the coffee table. 

“Uh, make yourself at home I guess,” he says awkwardly, gesturing to the old leather couch. She sits down, keeping her body language tight and carefully controlled as if she’s sitting on a piece of art in a museum. She gazes up at the decorations on the walls; a few pieces of art, some of his albums that have gone gold or platinum but… no picture of family or friends. But before she has the time to psychologically analyze that little tidbit of information about him he asks her a question. 

“Want some?” he says, pushing white powder in a line on the coffee table with a credit card. 

“S-sure,” she nods, taking the rolled up bill from his other hand and placing it below her nostril. She dips her head and takes a sharp inhale finishing the rest of the line. She passes the bill back to him and he does his own line.

They sit there in an uncomfortable silence, neither of them really knowing what to say. Talking is not their thing, messing around is. 

He places his hand on the inside of her thigh, a cue for her to spread her legs for him. She inhales sharply at his touch but opens her thighs for him. His hand trails up to her underwear, pulling at the seam lightly before pushing the fabric to the side. His calloused finger teases her entrance and she moans at the barely there sensation. 

“Hmm, what’s that?” he teases, “You want more?”

She nods but that’s not good enough for him.

“Nah, you gotta say it.”

“Please, Joel,” she whimpers, making that the first time she’s ever called him by his name. 

He pulls his hand away for a second, only to moisten them with his mouth before returning them to the lips of her cunt. He slides a finger in and she leans back on the couch, head facing the ceiling and eyes closed. 

“I bet that still isn’t good enough for you. You want more, don’t ya?” he teases, bringing his face beside her ear. His warm breath tickles her and sends a shiver down her spine. 

“Fuck, yes please. I need more, Joel.”

“Good girl,” he whispers as he pushes another finger in. 

She moans at the new found width inside her. He curls his fingers upwards, stimulating that soft, spongy spot inside her. His thumb moves to her clit, rubbing quick circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. She feels herself get close and he can feel it, too. 

“Are you gonna cum on my fingers, dirty girl? You’re soaked.”

All she can manage is a nod but that’s not what he’s looking for. He starts to pull his fingers from her and she whines at the absence of stimulation. 

“Please, Joel. I wanna cum.”

“Much better,” he says, resuming his motions inside her and on her clit.

Her orgasm washes over her, sending rhythmic shocks from her core and throughout her whole body. Her cunt pulsates around his fingers, leaving them completely soaked. He barely gives her any time to ride out her high before removing them from her. She whimpers at the empty feeling as Joel stands up to remove his pants. He sits back down on the couch with his cock out, already rock hard. 

“You know what to do. Does this feel familiar to you, you filthy slut?”

Fuck, she’s having flashbacks to the pool house. She moves to the floor and perches herself in between Joel’s thighs. She takes his length in her mouth and wraps her hand around the part that won’t fit. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, grabbing her hair. 

She pulls back and swirls her tongue around the head of his cock before taking his length deep in her mouth again, head bobbing up and down as she sucks him off. She brings her hands to his balls and cups them lightly. She feels the tip of his length tense up and his balls tighten– he’s at the edge. But before he can come, he grabs her by the hair and pulls her upwards. 

“Time for you to sit on it, slut.”

She stands and slips off her underwear before straddling him, sinking down onto his cock. He grabs her ass with one hand once he’s inside her completely, squeezing it in his hands. She moves against him, cock hitting her cervix with each movement of her hips. Joel slaps her ass as she rides him harder. His other hand moves to her hair and pulls it roughly. She moans with each slap of his hand or tug at her hair, getting off on the feeling of being degraded by Joel Miller.

“That’s right, you fucking slut. Ride my cock like the whore you are.”

Her orgasm rips through her, coming directly from her core and shooting outwards. Her muscles contract and release in an erratic pattern, making a mess of her. Her juices seep out of her and soak his groin as her cunt convulses around him. He’s at the edge, too, and before she can finish riding out her high once again he pulls her off of him.

“Swallow it. Now,” he commands.

She returns to her knees and opens her mouth for him, sticking her tongue out while he strokes himself to completion. His cum pours into her mouth and she takes every last drop, swallowing it all. He leans back on the couch and groans at the end of his high. She pulls herself off the floor and sits next to him gingerly. He grunts as he rises to put his pants back on. She grabs her underwear and slips them back on, feeling them get wet against her with her release. 

He sits back down and sighs, the awkwardness settling between them once again. Again, talking isn’t their thing, messing around is. But he’s exhausted between their activities at the bar earlier that night, the drugs, and the alcohol. He nods off to sleep and she internally freaks out, not knowing what to do with herself. She has a moral dilemma on her hands. The right thing to do would be to leave. But she’s not going to do that.

Once he’s sound asleep she gets up and tiptoes out of the living room. She explores the rest of his house, going up the stairs and into his bedroom. His room is in a similar state as the living room is; dark, messy and full of drugs. She opens his dresser drawers and looks at his clothes, pulling out one of his shirts and bringing it to her nose. She closes her eyes and deeply inhales his scent, taking note of the scent profile. She puts it back in the drawer and goes into the attached bathroom. There’s a large walk in shower and she imagines what would it be like to be fucked by him in there. She goes through all of the drawers of the vanity and the medicine cabinet, not looking to take anything. She’s just taking mental notes of anything and everything. She notices a bottle of oxytocin and pulls it out of the medicine cabinet, observing the pharmacy from which it was dispensed. She goes to put it back but is startled by a harsh voice. 

“What do you think you’re doing?!” a disgruntled Joel Miller asks.

“I… I-”

“You come to my house in the middle of the night and decide to poke through my medicine cabinet while I’m asleep??”

She doesn’t know what to say, desperate for any sort of defense here.

“Well you invited me in?” 

“Yeah, that was clearly a fuckin’ mistake. Get the fuck out of my house now before I call the cops!” he yells. 

She scurries past him and heads down the stairs. She stops in the living room and gathers whatever belongings she brought in with her. He follows her down the stairs to ensure she actually leaves. She exits through the door and Joel stands on his front steps shouting, “And don’t you fuckin’ come back! Don’t think I won’t file a restraining order!”

He slams the door behind him and turns off the light over the door. She takes a deep breath. One would think she would be a wreck right now, getting kicked out of Joel Miller’s house. But in all honesty… the allure and mystery of him has worn off. Her obsession with him had been brewing for years but in just two days it all came crashing down. She got as close to him as she possibly could. And now that’s seen all that she could she lost interest in him… for now. 

End note: The end for these two <3

[shiraishi--kanade]

An5 potential flashback/missed scene that was hinted at in On Your Feet and then Burn My Soul!

There's honestly not much to talk about, but I've told some people this little tidbit before and I want to get it out before the event drops so we can see if I got it right.

As we know, current VBS arc is written kind of differently timeline-wise, where all of their events happen simultaneously as they complete their assignments over the course over couple months. Therefore we can expect flashbacks, or more precisely, non-linear storytelling from An's event as well as we had with Akito and Touya.

And here's the hints I've talked about.

On Your Feet has this little bit:

While Burn My Soul, which has happened a few months later, has this:

This is the same person, as well. With that in mind, especially with the fact that this was brought up twice and the way the events are written, I think it's safe to assume we'll have the said "talk" the townfolk had with An somewhere near the beginning on the event - and from the sound of it, doesn't look like it went all that well.

[knickynoo]

Back to the Future Part II, The Novel by Craig Shaw Gardner: Thoughts, commentary, and general ramblings

Part 1: An Interesting Start

About a year ago, I picked up a copy of the ridiculous, off-the-walls novelization of the first Back to the Future and had a thoroughly enjoyable time, which I documented in a series of posts (you can check out here).

Well, guess who got her hands on the Part II novel? And while it's not nearly as wild as the one written by George Gipe, the few chapters I've read have been fun, so I decided to make posts to go along as I read. Let's jump right in.

• The book begins with a recap of the major events of the first movie, then catches up with Marty on the morning he wakes up to find that his life is now very different. As Marty thinks about the changes in his parents, he recalls the versions of them he had grown up knowing. There’s description of what a pushover George was, followed by this: “And his mother had reacted to all of this by quietly stepping back from life. she had also started drinking more than she should. They had both been good parents, had raised Marty and his brother and sister the best they could, but still…”

Then the thoughts about his parents just end there. And there’s something so sad about the little reflection and the way it trails off and leaves things unsaid. Dysfunctional as they were, they had been good parents. They had tried their best. But still…

Still, it wasn’t the greatest environment to grow up in. Still, it was difficult. Still, there was brokenness. I cry.

• As Marty takes in all the new things in his life, he finds himself wishing that Doc had waited a bit before taking off into the future. “The way all these things had changed—Marty thought they were great and all, but still—if you looked at it a certain way, all this change could be a little scary.”

THANK YOU, BOOK. Yes! All these changes ARE scary, and there’s no way a kid could be expected to just shrug and carry on when the very foundation of his life has been altered so dramatically but he doesn’t remember any of it and now he’s a stranger in his own life with no memories of growing up with these significantly well-adjusted versions of his parents and even though things are technically better how can he not miss the way things used to be and the parents who raised him and honestly Doc could have waited a day or two before jetting off into the future ya know?

Just gonna drop this here

Eric Stoltz wasn't the right fit for Marty, but he was right about this. He Got It.

Yeah, so ANYWAY

• Marty is so happy to see Jennifer that he has to “keep himself from jumping up and down.” Marty’s so cute. Lil’ jumping bean guy. Golden Retriever of a boy.

• When Doc is rifling through the trash for stuff he can throw into the Mr. Fusion, it refers to the banana peel (twice!) as “banana skin.” Which is. An interesting choice.

• As Doc backs the car out into the road, it’s mentioned that Marty lives on a street with a dead end. Idk why this tiny little tidbit is intriguing to me but it is.  

• After they arrive in 2015 Doc responds to Marty’s questions of if he’s a rich rockstar by saying maybe this whole thing was a mistake and he should just take Marty right back home. Which, to me, is the equivalent of a flustered parent doing the whole, “If you don’t behave, I am going to turn this car around,” thing. Very funny. Marty scrambles to apologize because he Does Not want to go home.

• Little confused about the clothes Marty is described as wearing when he arrives in the future. I mean, since the opening scene to part II is just a re-shoot of the ending scene in the first movie, we know Book Marty is also wearing those same clothes: checkered shirt and red tee underneath, yes? Well, as Book Marty gets changed into his future clothes, he’s described as wearing a purple t-shirt. Purple??

I’m sorry, that is not purple. What happened here? Didn’t the guy writing this novel know that Marty’s character color is red? He wears so much red. How did this shirt being described as purple make it into the book?

• Also!

I feel like the entirety of the first two movies can be summed up with those two sentences.

• I’m glad the movie went with Marlene trying to break Jr. out of jail and ending up in prison instead of the horribly depressing route the book (and script its based on) mentions. Good move.

• Intrigued by a bit where Marty is thinking about skateboarding and it's mentioned that he skateboarded “once or twice during the week he had spent in the 1950s.” I’m sorry?  Once or twice?? Mr. Gardner, I don’t know about you, but we see Marty skateboard one whole time in 1955, which is not a difficult number to keep track of. Are you trying to plant a headcanon in my noggin’ in which Marty might have snuck in another round of skateboarding for funsies in 1955? Because if so, you’ve succeeded.

And that's it for now. Gonna go ponder the idea of Marty doing some Secret, Forbidden Skateboading during some downtime in 1955. Perhaps I'll even picture him wearing a purple t-shirt.