#i like to have a slow moving dash so i don't follow a lot of ppl <:') sorrey

[brainrotdotorg]

imagine a dashboard for alligators. what do you think that would look like

2 notes

🍏gatoridae Follow

Controversial opinion. If you're doing nothing but eating meat, what are you even doing. Remember to include bugs, fruits, and legumes into your diet in order to help aid digestion of the meat that you get from snakes, fish, and mammals.

Just because we have the reputation for eating lots of meat, that doesn't mean we have to stick to it.

🥒biting-you-biting-you Follow

counterpoint: fuit yucky

🪵blog-from-a-bog Follow

wdym reputation of eating meat. i float lik ea log thats what im known for

4,904 notes

🌿swamp-ass Follow

asked dad if i could go and steal some Floridian guy's lunch and he said "we have prey at home" girl we have been doing shit ALL DAY i am an awesome 600 pounds and I need some meat left on me to deathroll with. let me get a quick snack that i don't need to kill mmmmmmm burgers I want people food soooooo badddd....... i know they shouldn't feed it to me but I have such a lovely smile oh please oh please give me your burger.........

182 notes

🥗aliali-seeyoulater Follow

mom says it was cold the season she laid me so i have to be a girl. because girls are always born from eggs laid during cold seasons.

cope and seethe mother first of all, second of all, the reason i am transgender is because you kept me too fucking snuggly warm in the nest.

#i guess if you wanted a daughter you should have. idk. made a shittier nest? #thats not really my fault man

81,337 notes

⛰fuckyeahhugesnout Follow

You'll never guess how I just learned that we have the honor of being the "loudest reptiles in the world"

🫑teethem Follow

Yeah yeah, the 90 decibel mating bellow, we've all heard it.

🤢ch0mper Follow

we've all heard the what

135,633 notes

🩲gaytorrr Follow

this guy asked if i wanted to see his gator hole and i said fuck yes. why this boy take me into a 65 foot long hole in the mud at the bottom of the lake

6,421 notes

🏞daily-clawsitivity

✨Remember to take it easy sometimes!✨We thrive in slow-moving waters!✨Even though we can run fast, we get tired fast too-- it's okay to let yourself take breaks!✨Let yourself relax, that's how we made it this far as a species.

mud-rocks-deactivated20140706

Yeah, imagine telling your prehistoric great great great great great great great great great great grandpa or something to calm down and relax when he should be doing nothing but deathrolls. the longevity of the species should be your only goal. It's irresponsible to encourage your fucking species to fall behind even more than it already has? Have some pride, you're not a crocodile.

scalesssss-deactivated20150310

jesus christ calm down

alidile-crocogator-deactvated20140709

Okay, this post has a lot of misconceptions in it. There aren't as many differences between crocodiles and alligators than you think. It's really harmful to think that we have nothing in common with each other. So what if they're carnivores and we're closer to omnivores, or their snouts are more U shaped while ours are V shaped. We're both badass miracles of nature that have no reason to be pit against one another all the time.

Don't listen to guys like this. It's just hateful and small-minded.

stop-jawlock-androll-deactivated20140911

crocs are like. like them shoes that float right

wetlandia898 Follow

i wish i was a crocodile because i could have a virgin birth and i wanted to see what it would be like to eat an immaculate conception.

bigchallengesrealblog-deactivated20190412

welcome to the no notes gator/croc discourse post.

🦖l8rg8tr-z Follow

omg this is the post.... i can't believe i would see this naturally on my dash

🎍taildraggers Follow

Uh are we just going to ignore the virgin birth reply orrrrrrrrr

🐊gator-heritage-posts

gator heritage post

0 notes

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa Follow

hgwiow h

hsfhjs

howw ws i nbevyrboy tyopingssaog oo vd wi hhrth rh thrre cl alawas ?>>

🌴a-l-g-t-r Follow

lmao this idiot never learned how to use their tail to type

#/j lol yeah its kind of hard at first #actually i'd say cut your losses and forget how to type bring the laptop back to the dumpster its not worth it

39 notes

🐍bellowbellowmygoodfellow Follow

am i fucking stupid. i just learned theres another species of alligator other than just me and the guys in my swamp. and i said "oh wow I didn't know that! which one of the two are we haha" and my buddy just stared at me like I was a fucking idiot. how am i supposed to know if no one ever tells me this . WHICH AM I

🍖meet-eat3r Follow

there are only 70-80 mature chinese gators in existence while there are 750,00-1 million mature american gators . do the math.

🐍bellowbellowmygoodfellow Follow

i could have just hatched you don't know me.

20,570 notes

🍀gatortears Follow

a group of queer gators in church call that a congregaytion

#reblogging this one bc none of you appreciate me

1 notes

👞makemeintoshoesdaddy Follow

I'm seeing the no notes gator/croc post circulate again and ha ha yes it's very funny, but we are NOT starting gator/croc discourse in 2024. lets leave that shit in the past. i know that's not what the post really ended up being about but i am soooooo sick of it.

🌾clawstothewalls Follow

okay, so the one with a fetish for getting turned into handbags is gonna talk down to us now.

👞 makemeintoshoesdaddy Follow

Not to be a pedant but its Shoes Actually. It even says so in the name. Shoes.

2,663 notes

[astraystayyh]

The only exception

barista Minho x reader. strangers to lovers. slow burn. if you can, listen to The only exception by Paramore while reading :)

Minho was content with straying away as far as possible from love. That is until you stumbled into his café on a rainy night, and unwittingly, into his life.

skz song series masterlist

i.

Minho sweeps the countertop with a blue rug, wiping away the scattered droplets of spilled coffee. He grabs a pastry from the showcase- a blondie with a raspberry drizzle on top, placing it on a plate decorated with dainty flowers. And then he gives it to the middle-aged man sitting near the back of the café. 

Minho is in Aurora, completing his mid-day shift, and yet it feels as if he's only physically there. His body is moving on auto-pilot, mechanically performing the familiar tasks etched into his memory by now. And he likes it, since it drowns out the tumultuous thoughts plaguing his mind.

Minho used to look forward to the days when Marta- Aurora's exceptional baker, would prepare blondies. The alluring aroma of the freshly made pastry would waft through the café, enveloping both Minho and the customers in a soothing embrace. He enjoyed preparing the coffee and drawing different pretty patterns on top of it. He also liked the music playing, and sometimes, the manager would even let him play some of his own playlists. 

But that was before Minho got his heart broken, torn in half, carelessly, as if it didn't belong to a breathing human, but rather to an unfeeling entity. Now, his lattes are void of intricate designs, the blondies prepared by Marta remain untouched, and his mind doesn't register the music playing. 

He's just existing, in a stillness he perfectly curated. He's a placid river, undisrupted, running its usual course day after day. 

Minho watches as the man clad in a polished suit finishes his treat, before getting up and leaving Aurora with hurried steps. He eats alone now, Minho has noticed, and his ring finger is void of the gold band he used to wear.

Perhaps that's what Minho's fate would also be. Eating alone in cafés he used to bring his lover to, basking in the chatter surrounding him, in the desperate hope that it'll fill the void inside him. 

ii. 

it's a Thursday, which means Minho is working the night shift at Aurora. It's pouring rain outside, the incessant water droplets a misty veil that fogs up the café's windows. Amidst the downpour, he catches sight of a couple dashing through the rain, hands tightly clutched into one another. They're giggling, as if the rain falling isn't a nuisance, but rather an elixir heightening their love. Minho looks the other way. 

The door to Aurora is pushed open, and Minho watches as you set foot inside. You're drenched in rain, from head to toe, strands of your hair sticking to your cheek. You exhale in relief, closing your eyes for a split second as the warmth of the café surrounds you- like a childhood blanket tightly wrapped around your being. There is a hint of a smile as you walk to the counter. It only grows when your eyes set on Minho. 

"Hi!" you greet cheerfully and he simply nods in return. The weather was horrible and you were probably uncomfortable from the clothes clinging to your skin, so what were you exactly joyful about?

"Can I have hot chocolate, please? Oh, and a piece of that brownie," you point to the showcase, and he follows your line of sight. 

"Sure, anything else?" 

"No, thank you," you smile, and he nods once again. "That will be 10 dollars." 

"Here," you hand him a crumpled bill and he takes it from you carefully, ensuring your hands don't brush against one another. 

You sit down on a chair near the window, and Minho dutifully prepares your order. He brings it to you once he's done, and you grin at him once again. You smile a lot, he thinks to himself. 

Minho goes on with his tasks, cleaning the dirty cups in the sink and grounding the coffee beans. When he's done, he can't help but notice you grabbing some napkins from the table and dabbing your neck and face dry with them. He sighs to himself before retreating to the café's backroom.

"Here, to dry your hair with," he says, handing you a clean towel.

Minho leaves before you could smile at him again. 

iii. 

It's Tuesday, and Minho has just served a freshly baked cinnamon roll to Mark- the middle-aged man who just introduced himself to Minho after months of frequenting Aurora.

Minho liked having regulars in his shifts, familiar faces to look into. This was part of the reason why he picked being a barista as a part-time job- he enjoyed people-watching. Not in a noisy way; he simply liked imagining the lives of the people surrounding him. It served as a distraction from his own. 

Among the regulars was a woman in her thirties who only ordered a chaï latte with a blueberry muffin. Then there was that one student, with blonde hair and freckles dusting his cheeks. He really despised bitter coffee, always ordering his with abnormal amounts of syrup.

And now, there was you too. You've been coming to Aurora regularly for the past few weeks since your initial visit. Minho still hasn't memorized your go-to order because you don't have one. You pick a new drink each time as if you were on a mission to taste everything on the menu. 

You come here alone, occupying the same seat by the window with your chin resting on your palm. He suspects you enjoy people-watching too since you often gaze outside. You also bring books with you, reading them while sipping on your beverage. Sometimes you write too, in a tiny sage notepad. 

And you smile, god do you smile a lot. At young children passing by in the street, at an elderly couple holding hands, at the black cat that sleeps on the edge of the window. And you smile at Minho. Each time you order, each time your eyes meet his from across the café. Minho likes to believe that happiness was so deeply ingrained within you, it became the very essence of your soul- an intrinsic part of your being you could not part with.

The door to Aurora is pushed open and Minho isn't surprised to see you entering once again, your bag loosely hanging from your shoulder. 

"Hi!" you greet excitedly as you usually do, and Minho simply nods, as he usually does. 

"I'm sorry if this is a bit weird," you preface, piquing Minho's curiosity. "I'm not really craving anything today, so can you make me your favorite drink?"

"My favorite drink?" he repeats, a bit incredulously and you nod eagerly. "Yes, I drink anything and I don't have any allergies, so whatever you prepare is fine!" you smile hopefully at him.

He stays silent, mulling over your request. He goes to say no, but the smile slowly slipping from your face makes a strange pang of guilt wash over him.

"On second thought, I'll just have-"

"Okay," he interrupts, "I'll bring it to you when it's done," he quickly says and the smile etches itself on your lips once again. Minho feels an unexpected relief dawn on him at its sight.

"Thank you! I'm yn, by the way," you introduce.

"Minho," he says, although you can read it on his nametag. 

"Minho," you repeat, and he finds himself itching to hear his name dripping from your lips again.

Minho prepares you an iced americano with cold foam, and two pumps of white mocha, since you seem to enjoy drinks on the sweeter side. He watches breathlessly from the counter as you take a sip of it, closing your eyes to fully relish in its taste. Your nose scrunches up in delight before you quickly turn around to shoot him a thumbs up from afar. 

Minho nods, before turning his back to you. Unwillingly, a small smile tugs at his lips. He's glad you liked it. 

iv.

Another Thursday unfolds following its usual routine. Mark occupies his customary spot in the rear of the café, while the scent of Marta's lemon madeleines permeates the kitchen.

Except you're not smiling. 

Minho finds it odd, how there was no cheerfulness in your steps as you walked to the counter. You did not smile while ordering, and your voice carried a tinge of sadness when you thanked him.

You did not ask about his day, nor about his cats- that was also something unusual for you to do. You've asked about them each time since Minho told you about them. He didn't plan on doing so, he just saw you one day eyeing the stickers of his three cats on his phone case, while he was counting your change.

"Are they your cats?" you asked, pointing at them and he nodded, a faint smile dancing at the corners of his lips.

"They are."

"You must love them a lot. They almost managed to make you smile," you teased, grabbing the rest of the money and walking to your usual seat. 

Minho steals brief glances at you, as he prepares your matcha latte, a drink you seemed to enjoy a lot lately. You're gazing at the window almost soulfully, your back slightly hunched as if there was an invisible weight crushing you underneath it. 

Minho nibbles on his lower lip, contemplating his next move, before grabbing the frothed milk. For the first time in months, he draws a little cat on the surface of your drink, just like he used to do a long time ago.

He brings it to you, and his heart flutters nervously as you gaze down at the cup. He almost second-guesses his action, that is until you beam at him, and Aurora suddenly feels brighter than it did seconds ago. 

v. 

"When does your shift end?" you ask Minho as he sets your perfectly crafted matcha latte on the table- an order he has committed to memory by now.

"In an hour, why?" he asks curiously and you wave your hand dismissively. "Just wanted to know." 

The seconds trickle by slowly, as the hour almost comes to an end. You watch as Minho takes off his apron, running a hand through his hair. It's gotten longer now, silky bangs he tucks behind his ear to keep them from obstructing his vision.

He talks a bit to Seungmin, the other barista that works there. And then he steals a quick glance around the room, where he finds you already looking. You wave him over, and he tilts his head slightly in confusion, before walking to your table. 

"Sit down," you smile, gesturing to the chair in front of you. Minho complies silently.

"Here," you take out a container filled with brownies from your bag. "I never properly thanked you, for the towel and for the little cat you drew on my coffee last week. So, here, thank you," you beam at him while sliding the box in his direction.

"I don't- it's nothing, you didn't have to," he says, and you notice a tinge of pink blush covering the tips of his ears.

"I wanted to. I hope you'll like them, I'm not as good as your baker, but I tried," you confess, smiling sheepishly, and Minho feels a sudden urge to vehemently contradict you, to tell you that they must taste good. And even if they didn't it wouldn't matter, because you baked them for him. And that is enough. 

But he bites the inside of his cheek harshly, physically stopping this rush of words eager to escape his mouth.

"Let's eat them together, hum?" he simply suggests, opening the container and placing a brownie on your plate before taking one himself.

"Is it good?" you ask tentatively and he pretends to contemplate your question for a moment.

"They're horrible, right? I shouldn't have taken creative liberties with the recipe and-"

"Yn, I'm just kidding," he stops you, a soft smile on his face. "They're delicious, see," he says, finishing the brownie in one bite. "Really good," he compliments, reaching for another piece. 

"Okay," you smile in relief, eyes crinkling closed. The sunlight is streaming through the window, casting a golden shadow on your face. You are swaying contently in your place, as you take another bite of the brownie. And you look happy, with him. Minho thinks the brownies are the best he's ever had because he's sharing them with you. Because he got a taste of your happiness through them. 

vi. 

"Can you believe that professor? He failed half the class and he still thinks he isn't the problem." 

You are venting to Minho about your stuck-up Economics professor, while leaning against the countertop. He's listening intently to you, drinking in the details of your face as you talk to him. For some reason, he finds the smile lines on your face mesmerizing, that and the way your eyebrows move with your every word. 

These subtle details have been engraved into his memory since the day you gave him the brownies, two months ago. He has grown fond of you, sitting at your table at the end of his shift without you having to ask. You also hang out outside of Aurora, going on frequent walks and discovering new food spots. He never felt that the conversation between you two was strenuous, or forced. It flowed naturally, like a waterfall knowing exactly where it should go.

He also finds that smiling is easy with you. At your jokes, your stories, and your existence. He's lost count of the times he found himself grinning widely at your words, or smiling softly to himself at the thought of you coming to Aurora soon.

"He's too full of himself to admit he's the one who sucks at teaching," Minho comments and you clap in agreement. 

"Right! And it's so funny because..." You're still talking but your words go unheard by Minho, like a mindless buzz in the back of his mind. He's frozen in his place, his heart beating wildly in his ribcage as he notices the couple who just came in.

His ex, with the man she cheated on him with. 

"Minho? What's wrong?" you call out, snapping him out of his daze. You're eying him worriedly, and only then does he realize how tightly he's holding the countertop. 

"Nothing," he curtly replies, as he plasters a neutral expression on his face. 

He watches as his ex's eyes widen slightly when she sees him. She forgot he was working here. Of course, it'd be easy to do so since she never visited him at Aurora anyways. Despite the flood of emotions cursing through him, Minho maintains a stoic facade, taking their orders as if she's a mere stranger and not the one behind his shattered heart.

As Minho attempts to prepare their coffee, his hand trembles uncontrollably, forcing him to stop before dropping the milk.

He didn't love her anymore, he was certain of it. But still, the sight of her brought unpleasant memories back to the surface. Ones he tried so hard to bury in the back of his mind. And Aurora was his sanctuary. One, she never tainted with her presence. Has she not taken enough from him already? 

"Minho?" you call out softly, and Minho feels guilty because he left you alone with no explanation. Still, when he turns around, he can tell you aren't upset. You are worried, looking at him cautiously. 

"Is everything okay?" you ask once again, and this time Minho can't find it in him to lie to you, so he simply shakes his head no. 

"Your hand is shaking," you observe, before gently grabbing it in yours. You cover his hand with both of your palms, squeezing it lightly to steady the tremors cursing through it. 

Your hand is warm, and very soft, a stark contrast to the sharp emotions surging within him, like pine needles puncturing his heart.

"Would you like me to serve them?" you ask softly, and Minho isn't surprised you picked up on his unease. You're perceptive, it's one of the things he likes about you. 

"Please," he responds quietly. You simply smile, reaching for an apron and wrapping it around your waist. You look adorable, intertwining yourself with his world, and the sight of you eases the ache in Minho's soul.

A few minutes later, you grab the tray from his hands and walk over to their table. Minho chuckles inwardly when he notices that you didn't smile at them, serving them with a blank face, and his chest warms a little.

He has you on his side. 

Five days later, you're sitting besides Minho on a bench; watching the sun as it dips into the ocean, painting the sky in hues of orange and yellow. Yet, the dazzling colors are the last thing on Minho's mind. All he can think about is you. How you helped him with serving the rest of the drinks that day, how he taught you how to work the coffee machines- a solace from the ugly feelings that roared in him.

"Thank you," he abruptly says and you turn to look at him, perplexed.

"For what you did the other day, with the couple that came in. That was, um... my ex and the person she cheated on me with," he confesses quietly, fiddling with his earlobe. He didn't need to tell you, but he wanted to. "I've moved on, it's just... seeing her again hurt. I don't know why." 

Your eyes soften at him, not in pity, but in care. And Minho doesn't mind being vulnerable with you. It's scaring him, but he doesn't mind.

"It's normal for it hurt, it would honestly be weird if it didn't," you smile gently and he sighs in reply, running a hand through his hair. 

"I wish it didn't."

"Love is a powerful feeling, it consumes our entire beings. That's why it hurts when our hearts are toyed with. But love itself doesn't hurt, I feel like it's what makes our world move. You know, the little gestures humans do for one another, that are fueled by love. Like, um... scratching someone's back or peeling someone's fruit. You don't have to do those things, but you do. Because you love the person, and it makes your existence feel gentler, and softer on the heart." You explain, the words leaving your mouth and wrapping around Minho's soul, healing parts of him that he didn't know were bruised.

"My point is, it's normal for you to be hurt. But I hope you don't close your heart entirely to the feeling. Because we may not have grand things in our life, but if there is a hand that brushes our tears away and one that folds our laundry, then that's enough for us to lead a beautiful life."

Minho blinks repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to keep his tears at bay. He felt as if the letters you uttered unfolded and stretched in front of his eyes, morphing into a gentle hand patting his back. Yours.

You smile softly at him, the water's reflection shimmering in your eyes. And Minho thinks that he's standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to dive into the unknown- into you. 

"How do you do it?" he chuckles in disbelief, as he leans a bit closer to you. "You make me want to believe in love again," he pauses, before adding quietly, "but only if it's with you." 

You remain silent as Minho fidgets with his fingers, before tentatively grabbing your hand in his. He doesn't look at you, his gaze fixated on the way your fingers naturally intertwine with one another- as if finding each other after a lifetime of being apart.

"You know, I'd thought I'd always live like this, keeping a comfortable distance between me and people," he says, raising his head to finally meet your eyes, "and up until now I thought I was content with it, with loneliness, I mean. But... but brownies taste sweeter when I'm with you, and Aurora is brighter when you are in it, and smiling feels like second nature around you. And I don't... I don't think I can go back to being lonely again, not when I've had a taste of you in my life." 

Minho's heart is beating wildly into his chest, and he can hear the blood rushing through his ears, frantically, as if to warn him against what he's about to say. But your thumb caresses his palm reassuringly and he wants to try again. With you.

"I- I never wanted to love again, because no one, none of it was ever worth the risk, but you... You are the only exception."

Minho exhales breathlessly and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him to your chest. You hoped that your warmth would ease his nerves a bit, that your hand on his back would feel gentle on his soul. You didn't want to rush your answer, trying to think of something that will patch up the deeply carved scar in his heart, a perfectly made band-aid in the shape of syllables.

It's a foolish hope, you realize, to instantly quiet the cries of a bruised spirit. So you simply settle on saying the truth sitting on the edge of your tongue.

"It will be quite hard, and scary for you," you whisper placing a tender kiss on his shoulder blade. "But I'll help you, if you'd let me. I'll take care of your heart better than I do with my own."

vii.

"Hey, baby," you smile at Minho, slipping behind the counter to be by his side. He pulls you by your waist, kissing your cheek softly.

"I missed you," he pouts, and you giggle, playing with strands of his hair, "I missed you too."

"Do you know what day it is today?" he asks, a shy smile gracing his face.

"No...?" you trail out and he chuckles, taking your hand in his.

"Don't worry, you didn't miss my birthday. It's just... it's been a year since you first came into Aurora."

"You remember?" you ask in amazement, your heart swelling with love for the man standing before you.

"Mm, how could I forget you? Also," he sneakily points to a table near the back, "my favorite couple is back."

You turn around, a soft gasp escaping your mouth as you find Mark gently holding the hands of his date. You smile happily when you finally notice it- the wedding ring, finally back on his finger.

[alexa-fika]

Tough Swordplay ( Mihawk x gn!winged!child!reader)

A/N: We’ve got a slightly older Reader in this one, around 10? Enough for them to reach that sass stage 🙄 IT’s BREWING GUYS, THE IDEAS ARE BREWING, MY BRAIN IS OVERFLOWING. I have ideas for more Dracule!Reader Shanks!Reader , Bro even Donquixote!Reader (of the better brother of course 😳) and even more fandoms!

I also wanted to take a small second to thank you guys, it has been my dream to have my little group of people who I can share my writing with and receive reactions from, to share opinions on! So thank you!

Dividers by @/saradika

They jump out of the way just in time to evade their father's attack only to miss the very next attack and end up falling to the ground

“Ow, I almost had it.”

Mihawk sheathed his sword as he watched.

“Hm, you are improving; your reaction time is better... You still need a lot of improvement” He said flatly.

They pout pulling two more long feathers from their wings, wielding them like swords as they got into position once again

“That’s much better... You’re finally starting to understand the difference between defending and attacking. Your footwork could use some work.” He said rapidly unsheathing Yoru.

“Your feet are too heavy and are slowing down your balance and agility, and you overcorrect when you are pushed off-balance. The moment my attack forces you back is the moment you have already lost.” He points out

“You are too eager to make your next attack. When defending and attacking there is a window of opportunity. When your opponent attacks, that is your window to strike.”

They frown, dashing towards him, ready to strike

He waited patiently for their attack while his own hands were in a position. As they struck, Mihawk used their own momentum to redirect the attack over himself before he countered, forcing them to stumble.

“Your form of attack lacks a proper flow. You should not be predictable. Instead of dashing at me, try to mix your movements.”

“Don't let your opponent know your next move. Be fast, unpredictable, and most importantly, be ready to react.”

“Agh! If you want unpredictably, you got it, idiot!” they growl as more feathers fall from their wings and are sent their father's way, immediately regretting both the action and their words.

“Oops…W-Wait, dad I din’t mean to,” they chuckle nervously

Mihawk narrowed his eyebrows but couldn’t contain his smile.

“... Impressive.”

“Just as I expected, you are improving,” Mihawk replied as he was finally able to be pleased.

“Your unpredictability was great, but... You are still rather obvious as your attacks tend to be slow and your footing heavy.” He added in.

They sigh in relief at their words only to wince at his following words

“However, I thought I had told you this was sword training. Did I not warn you against using your other attacks and focusing on your sword? And what was it that you call me earlier?”

“H-hah w-well, it was just an accident, a slip up!”

“Accidents are just convenient excuses for a lack of commitment,” Mihawk said, sharply approaching his kid.

A sharp wine can be heard across the training ground.

“Dad, it has been an hour of me practicing this sword move, can I please stop now? I learned my lesson!” They whine, a bump prominent on the back of their head part of the punishment they had received for their slip up; currently they were serving the second part of their punishment, stuck doing the very same sword movement repetition with a wooden practice sword

“... Another hour.”

“Come on! I said it was an accident!”

“An accidental misuse of your power is still a misuse in my book. I warned you about mixing up your attack style and you disobeyed what I said. You are too reliant on your wings” Mihawk replied, not moving a muscle, now sitting nearby with the newspaper

“Accidental misuse,” they grumble mockingly

Mihawk doesn’t flinch as he continues reading the newspaper.

“I heard that,” Mihawk said sharply without looking away from the newspaper.

“Just for that, make it three hours.”

“Come on!”

They pout, continuing their movements with the wooden sword

‘Jerk,’

“Five.”

“W-w- But I didn’t even do anything this time; I din’t even say anything!”

Mihawk raises an eyebrow with a small smirk appearing on his face for a brief second before disappearing.

“Im you’re father. I raised you, and I know what you are thinking just by your expressions.”

“Sorry, Dad” they mumble, getting back to their sword practice

Mihawk sighs, now with a small smile on his face.

“I am merely trying to help you improve. You cannot afford any mistakes. You must be ready for anything. You know full well that the world isn’t like some practice room, and even the slightest mistakes in a fight against your enemy can cost you everything,” Mihawk said, his voice being far kinder than before.

“I know…

“Good,” Mihawk replied as he watched over their kid.

“I know that I may come off as harsh at times, but that is because I care about you. The last thing that I would want is for you to end up dead because of a mistake or for some weakling to look down on you.” Mihawk said with a sigh.

They smile at him

“Thank you, dad”

“You're welcome... But it still does not diminish the length of this punishment.” Mihawk replied with a smirk.

“Seriously?! After all that?! That's so stupid!”

“…What was that?”

“W-wait!”

“OW! THAT ONE HURT! IM SORRY!”

They jump out of the way just in time to evade their father's attack only to miss the very next attack and end up falling to the ground

“Ow, I almost had it.”

Mihawk sheathed his sword as he watched.

“Hm, you are improving; your reaction time is better.”

“... You still need a lot of improvement, however.” He said flatly.

They pout pulling two more long feathers from their wings, wielding them like swords as they got into position once again

“That’s much better... You’re finally starting to understand the difference between defending and attacking.”

“However... Your footwork could use some work.”

“Your feet are too heavy and are slowing down your balance and agility, and you overcorrect when you are pushed off-balance. The moment my attack forces you back is the moment you have already lost.”

“You are too eager to make your next attack. When defending and attacking there is a window of opportunity. When your opponent attacks, that is your window to strike.”

They frown, dashing towards ready to strike

He waited patiently for their attack while his own hands were in a position. As they struck, Mihawk used their own momentum to redirect the attack over himself before he countered, forcing them to stumble..

“Your form of attack lacks a proper flow. You should not be predictable. Instead of dashing at me, try to mix your movements.”

“Don't let your opponent know your next move. Be fast, unpredictable, and most importantly, be ready to react.”

“Agh! If you want unpredictably, you got it, idiot!” they growl as more feathers fall from their wings and are sent their father's way

“Oops…W-Wait, dad I din’t mean to,” they chuckle nervously

Mihawk narrowed his eyebrows but couldn’t contain his smile.

“... Impressive.”

“Just as I expected, you are improving,” Mihawk replied as he was finally able to be pleased.

“Your unpredictability was great, however... You are still rather obvious as your attacks tend to be slow and your footing heavy.” He added in.

They sigh in relief at their words only to wince at his following words

“However, I thought I had told you this was sword training. Did I not warn you against using your other attacks and focusing on your sword?”

“H-hah w-well, it was just an accident…”

“Accidents are just convenient excuses for a lack of commitment,” Mihawk said, sharply approaching his kid

A sharp wine can be heard across the training ground

“Dad, it has been an hour of me practicing this sword move, can I please stop now? I learned my lesson!” They whine, a bump prominent on the back of their head part of the punishment they had received for their mishap; currently they were serving the second part of their punishment, stuck doing the very same sword movement repetition with a wooden practice sword

“... Another hour.”

“Come on! I said it was an accident!”

“An accidental misuse of your power is still a misuse in my book. I warned you about mixing up your attack style and you disobeyed what I said. You are too reliant on your wings” Mihawk replied, not moving a muscle, now sitting nearby with the newspaper

“Accidental misuse,” they grumble mockingly

Mihawk doesn’t flinch as he continues reading the newspaper; he glances up at them, narrowing their eyes.

“I heard that,” Mihawk said sharply without looking away from the newspaper.

“Just for that, make it three hours.”

“Come on!”

They pout, continuing their movements with the wooden sword

‘Jerk,’ they think to themselves

“Five.”

“W-w- But I didn’t even do anything this time; I din’t even say anything!”

Mihawk raises an eyebrow with a small smirk appearing on his face for a brief second before disappearing.

“Im you’re father. I raised you, and i know what you are thinking just by your expressions.”

“Sorry, Dad” they mumble, getting back to their sword practice

Mihawk sighs, now with a small smile on his face.

“I am merely trying to help you improve. You cannot afford any slip-ups. You must be ready for anything. You know full well that the world isn’t like some practice room, and even the slightest mistakes in a fight against your enemy can cost you everything,” Mihawk said, his voice being far kinder than before.

“I know…

“Good,” Mihawk replied as he watched over their kid.

“I know that I may come off as harsh at times, but that is because I care about you. The last thing that I would want is for you to end up dead because of a mistake or for some weakling to look down on you.” Mihawk said with a sigh.

They smile at him

“Thank you, dad”

“You're welcome... But it still does not diminish the length of this punishment.” Mihawk replied with a smirk.

“Seriously?! After all that?! That's so stupid! You’re stupid!”

“…What was that?”

“W-wait!”

“OW! THAT ONE HURT! IM SORRY!”

GUYS AM I COOKING OR WHAT?! We got the wholesomeness, we got the tough love, we got the small smiles and smirks from Mihawk TELL ME I DIN’T COOK RIGHT HERE.

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

[13a07s]

My Everything #1

(Shoyo Hinata)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to mx_opg]

Requested by: Myself

Word Count: 3,607

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Shoyo being a love struck clingy boy

There's a hint of bokuaka

Gets a bit heated towards the end (making out and technical dry humping)

Part Two?

———————————————————————

     I can feel Shoyo's burning stare from where I stand in the gym doorway. He's not the only jackal staring though. Miya's eyes are set in the same direction, sights locked on his girlfriend who's standing in the doorframe next to me, waiting for her boyfriend just like I am. The jackals are stretched out across the floor, doing their cool-downs as their coach rambles on about their match tomorrow.

The coach claps, the usual lead-up to the players' dismissal. A second or two passes before Shoyo is up on his feet, racing toward me before any of the other players can beat him to the entrance.

     The spaz doesn't slow down as he approaches me, full speed ahead as he dashes forward. His arms wrap around me when he finally comes in contact with me. My feet dragging for a moment before Shoyo manages to pull me up. He stumbles out the door, struggling to slow down and balance both our weights as he moves.

     "Hello, baby. I missed you. What did you do while I was at practice? You look beautiful. I love these pants on you. Did you pack our bags yet? Called the chauffeur? I don't want to drive us. I missed you, did I tell you that? Because I did miss you. I thought of you every second we were apart. Well, not every second. I thought about volleyball a lot but when I wasn't thinking about plays and practice and such I was thinking of you. I missed you so much."

     My golden retriever of a boyfriend rambles on, word vomiting as he squeezes me between his arms, kisses being slobbered against my face. I'm pranced around the grass right outside the gym, clinging to Shoyo's shoulders as he bounces around. I swear, if he had a tail it would be wagging a mile a minute right now. "I love you so much," he whines like it's pained him having to go three hours without saying it. The admiration is paired with another messy kiss pressed onto my cheek.

     Shoyo is attached to my hip as much as he can be, that time is split up by his workout routines. An hour run first thing in the morning, his team training for three hours in the afternoon, an evening two-hour workout session at the gym, and then a final hour run at night. Five days a week, leaving Sundays and Thursdays for ourselves.

     His days off are the best. Sundays are our lazy days at home and Thursdays are always packed full of adventures, secret dates, and running to hide from Shoyo's publicity. My wonderful, famous spiker of a boyfriend does all he can to keep me hidden from the world, at least personal information about me; no pictures, my name is nowhere to be seen, and no interviews or statements.

     He acknowledges me all the time though, to the point there are millions of videos centered around us. "Taking a Shot Every Time Hinata Shoyo Mentions His Girlfriend" and compilations of him talking about me in his interviews.

     My heart skips a beat every time I watch a new interview of him. "My girlfriend", "my baby", "my girl", "my cheerleader", and a million other things always fall from his mouth, usually followed by a compliment or a thank you or something about me he loves. Nothing beats watching him gush over how much he loves me and how proud he is to bring me home another win.

     "I love you too," I mutter, chasing his lips for a moment before I get the kiss I want and he so desperately seems to need.

     Happy sighs spill from him, being caught in my mouth as Shoyo kisses me back, hands tightening on my thighs from his enjoyment. "You... are... my... whole... heart," he mutters, pecking my lips between each word. "My everything," he adds, another kiss, this one longer and rougher with his longing for me.

     "You're my everything," I echo Shoyo's little saying, my heart skipping again.

     The first game I came to was wonderful, his team won, and everyone was thrilled. Afterward, an interviewer asked why it was 'his best game yet'. Without missing a beat, he pointed to the stands, a big grin on his face as he answered, "My everything was in the stands today. I can't bring her home a loss so I made sure to bring her home a win." Even now I can't help but feel giddy thinking about it. I never knew dating an athlete would be filled with so much pride, glee, and romance.

Gently, Shoyo sets me on my feet, fingertips toying with my belt loops as he tugs on my pants. "I love you. I love these pants on you. I love your eyes. I love your hair. I love you so much," he whines, using the loops to tug me closer to him.

"I love you too, Sho," I giggle, looping my arms around his neck before leaning to kiss him again.

     "I would love a lack of PDA," Miya chuckles from the gym door, an arm around his girlfriend as he leans down to plop a kiss on her cheek. He's got two bags on his arms, one that I recognize as Shoyo's.

     "Sorry, Atsumu," He mutters, filled with shyness and cheeks pink from embarrassment.

     "I'm just giving you shit," his teammate continues to chuckle, leading himself and his girlfriend toward us. "See you tomorrow?" He asks, dropping the gym bag at Shoyo's feet.

     "Bright and early," he chirps, nodding in agreement before bending down to pick up his bag. "Come on, baby," he coos, arm wrapped around my hips, elbow pressed against one as his fingertips press against the other one. It makes it awkward to walk, especially with Shoyo tugging me closer to his side, but it makes him happy so I deal with the stumbling.

     Once our feet hit the pavement of the parking lot, his hand slides into my pants pocket, snatching the keys before he races forward. I stroll after him, watching him eagerly bounce with the passenger door held open for me. "Thank you," I hum, kissing his cheek before I slide into the car.

     Shoyo squirms with happiness as he bends down, buckling my seatbelt for me and pecking my lips before closing the car door. My eyes trail after him, watching him bounce to his side of the car, repeating his actions to himself. "You are so pretty," he whispers, puppy-dog eyes set on me for a second before he focuses on starting the car.

     When the soft hum of the engine is started, a hand settles on my thigh, fingers squeezing hard enough to make gentle indents in my flesh. His other hand clings to the steering wheel, releasing it long enough to switch the car's gears before backing out of the parking spot. Shoyo looks so hot when he drives, it's almost a shame he wants to take a chauffeur to Shizuoka.

                        ———————————

     My feet uneasily slide against the wood floors of our condo, trying to keep myself steady as Shoyo hangs on me. One of his hands is gripping my belt loops again, the other one balling up my hair at the nape of my neck. My head is shifted, giving the clingy man full access to the side of my neck. Access that he happily uses, peppering tight kisses and soft nibbles to the skin.

He trails around after me, close enough to keep his hold, and accidentally bumping into me every few steps. Shoyo doesn't let up as I hang the car keys, or when I lead us toward our room. He only parts from me long enough to take his bag off and toss it next to the closet. "Come here," he whines, wrapping his arms around me again.

Like at the gym, I'm lifted off my feet, but this time I'm quickly put down again. I'm left sitting on the bed, the eager man quickly crawling into my lap and bullying me into lying down on the mattress. "Sho, I have to finish packing," I murmur, hands burying themselves into his firey locks.

"In a minute," he barely answers, situating himself so I'm caged between the bed and him. Shoyo's hands are tipping under my shirt, fingertips resting above my waistband but palms still pressed against the bones of my hips. My lover boy is arched as he hunches over me, knees sandwiched with the bed and my sides as he hovers, a bit of his weight pressing into me but not to the full extent. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," I coo, twirling the untamed ends of his hair around a few of my fingers. My neck sizzles from the constant attention to it; kisses, nibbles, and the occasional soft suckle.

     A few times, Shoyo's legs tighten on my sides before relaxing again. His hands wander occasionally too, rubbing my lower stomach before falling back into place. "Okay, I feel better now," he mutters, sucking on a patch of skin before rolling off of me.

     I shake my head at the needy boy, sitting upright once he's off of me. When I go to slide off the bed, he catches a belt loop again. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, quickly sitting up to stamp a kiss on the back of my shoulder.

     "You're so handsome," I compliment back, shooting a smile over my shoulder. Shoyo's grin widens, another smiley kiss to my shoulder before I'm released and he's flopped on the bed again. "Needy boy," I tease, successfully sliding off the bed this time.

     "Just for you, my everything," he flirts, arms over his face so all I can see is his sparkly teeth still settled in a smile.

     The nickname makes my cheeks heat up, the lingering feeling of his lips against my skin somehow burning even more now. I shake the feeling off, eyes falling to the forgotten sports bag on the floor. I roll my eyes at the volleyball player spread out on the bed, a smile still painted on my lips as I pick up after him.

     I unzip the opening, tipping it over to spill the context of it out. A million different things spill out, landing on the floor. I do a quick swipe through it with a wet wipe too, making a mental note to run it through the laundry when we get home. Once the bag is cleaned out, I settle on the ground, set to start dividing up the contents; laundry, back in the bag, throw away.

     As I'm sorting things into their piles, the sound of him moving catches my attention. I amusingly watch him slide off the bed, lying on the floor as he scoots his way towards me. The whole time he slithers around his bright eyes are locked on me, watching me slowly repack his bag for him. "Hello, Honey," I coo when he gets closer, the crown of his head tapping against my thigh before he settles.

     "Hello," Shoyo echoes, moving around a bit so he can rest his head in my lap. "What are you doing?"

     "Cleaning out your volleyball bag," I mutter, a hand falling away from my task to gently scratch his scalp.

     "How'd I get lucky enough to have a woman like you to take care of me?" He sighs, eyes closed, and his face relaxed as he enjoys my soft touch.

     I roll my eyes again, my smile growing at his flattery. "Sho, it took two months of us dating before you started begging me to move in and be your 'little homemaker'," I tease, starting my mental checklist of missing items. Jersey, clean water bottle, towel, snacks.

"And it was the best decision of my life," Shoyo says, eyes snapping open to look up at me.

     I try to ignore the look on his face, the love and certainty waving off of him as he admires me. I need to focus on finishing our packing and texting Kozume about sending one of his drivers. If I give into his flattery, we'll never make it to the hotel in time for check-in.

     Shoyo turns onto his side, shifting again to bury his head into my stomach, arms wrapped around my leg as he gets comfortable. "I'm excited you're coming with me this time," he whispers into my belly, rubbing his nose against me. "I always play better when I get to have breakfast with you before my game."

     "I know, Hon," I hum continuing to scratch his head, this time paired with kisses decorating the side of his face. "But," I start again, tugging my touch away from him. "If you want to make it to your game you have to let me finish packing so we can get going."

     "Fine," Shoyo sighs, shoving his face into me in a half-kiss half-head butt before rolling off of me again. "You're so beautiful, it's wonderful," he mutters, eyes still locked on me as I crawl off the floor.

     "Thank you."

     "Of course, baby."

                        ———————————

     Shoyo squirms in his seat, his leg bouncing and his hands messing with his seatbelt. His eyes jump around too, out the window for a moment before skipping to the divider's rearview mirror and finally sliding over to me before repeating the cycle. He never does well on car rides unless he's the one driving. Maybe I should have bickered with him about it.

My eyes are cast on my phone, skimming over the "Volleyball is the Main Chick, We're the Side Chicks" group chat. It's a group of the girlfriends and wives - and Akaashi - of the Jackal players. I shake my head, mostly aimed at Bokuto when my eyes scan over Akaashi's message. When are those two going to confess their feelings for each other? Never, probably. They'll grow old together as "just roommates".

"Pay attention to me," Shoyo whines, snatching my phone from me. "I miss you."

     "How can you miss me? I'm right here," I tease, letting the clinger have my phone and my undivided attention.

     "I'm not touching you. I miss your warmth... and your kisses," he mutters, starting sorrowful before getting more excited.

     I shake my head at him, leaning across the middle seat to press my lips against his. Shoyo is instantly thrilled, happily kissing me back as a hand jumps up to cup under my chin. His other hand quickly finds my knee, squeezing it before sliding up to rub my thigh. "Silly boy," I hum, starting to pull away from him.

     "No," he whines, his hand sliding off my chin to cup the back of my neck. "I want you. Come here," he continues to whimper, a pout on his lips as he tries to tug me back toward him by my thigh, hand still clinging to my neck to keep my head in place. "Please come here."

     "I'm as close as I can get, Honey," I utter, giving in and continuing to peck his lips.

     Shoyo melts into the kisses, soft whimpers and whines spilling from him every time I inch away from his mouth. "I need you. I need your kisses. Come closer," he wails, falling into my little cat-and-mouse game, eager lips chasing after mine. Every few attempts he fails, his kisses landing on my cheeks or the corners of my mouth.

     "I'm as close as I can get," the words come out jumbled because of his lips hungrily pressed against mine.

     The hand on my thigh crawls up my body, back to messing with the belt loops of my pants. The hand on my neck wobbles its way down my body, bumping against my hip as he struggles to unclip my seatbelt. An excited sigh spills from Sho when the click fills the car, both hands strung through my belt loops now. I'm tugged across the backseat and yanked onto his lap.

     "You're beautiful. I love you, so much. You're perfect. I adore you. You're excellent. You're my everything," he rambles, jittery hands struggling to undo his seatbelt. "I missed you so much while I was at practice. I miss you anytime we're apart. It's going to be so fun playing tomorrow but it's going to suck being so far away from you all day," he continues to jabber yanking me forward once he manages to untangle himself.

     "Calm down, Honey," I coo, settling my arms over his shoulders.

     Shoyo's eyes are wide and glossy as he looks up at me, so much compassion wrapped up in them. "I love you so much though," he babbles, continuing to pull on my belt loops as if I could get any closer to him. "You're my everything. Everything," he repeats, emphasizing the word by dragging it out. "Please, baby?"

     My teeth graze my bottom lip, Shoyo's desperation for me stirring in my veins. He's always been clingy, but he's even more high-maintenance before a game. My cute, needy, lover boy. "Please what, Honey?"

     "Kiss me," he whispers, pushing me back a bit before jerking me forward again. "Pretty please."

     I hum in approval, tightening my arms around his neck as I rock my hips against his. A small whimper falls from Shoyo before I crash our lips together again.

     His hands finally leave my belt loops, shoving their way under my shirt before settling on my upper sides. The cloth of my shirt hangs over his wrists, showing off most of my torso and a peak of my bra. Shoyo's thumbs toy with the underwire of my garment, gently snapping it as he messes with the lace.

     His plush lips slide against mine, selfishly taking as many kisses as he likes. It's not long until Shoyo's tongue is poking at my lips, thumbs permanently settled under the wire of my bra now. A soft sigh is exhaled as I let my lips fall into a small gap. An excited squeak falls from my lover, his tongue sliding into my mouth and eagerly exploring my mouth, dancing over my tongue.

     When we finally part, his chest is pumping with a mix of neediness for air and me. "I can't wait to get to the hotel," he stumbles out, his words as shaky as his breathing. "I can't wait to make my everything feel everything she makes me feel," Shoyo sighs, slightly rocking his hips against mine, his head tipping to the side.

     His lips settle on my neck again, not wasting time with butterfly kisses as he did earlier. He's instantly sucking on my neck, enough to make it tingle but not enough to promise a mark. I let my head tip too, lulling to the side so my energetic boy can waste some of his energy.

     Maybe it wasn't the wrong decision to not bicker about having a driver take us to Shizuoka. Oh my God, the driver. "Shoyo!" I yelp, hand to his chest to push him back a bit. "We have company," I hiss, jerking my head toward the drive.

     "So?" He murmurs, pulling me against him again, lips already back on my neck, suckling teasing tingles into my skin. "Kenma's drivers won't say anything or else they wouldn't be his drivers," Shoyo hums, already attached to my throat again. "Just let me make you feel good." Shivers shutter through my body, both helping me relax and getting me excited. I love dating an athlete.

                        ———————————

     My eyes flicker between the desk worker and my phone, uselessly scrolling through it as Shoyo talks to the lady. He - and Bokuto - are beaming as they ramble about the match tomorrow. Akaashi is settled next to me, doing the same thing as our boyfriends act like the spazs they are.

     The desk lady doesn't seem to mind them though, a love-struck expression on her face as she talks to the spikers. I always thought I'd be one of those jealous girls who wouldn't be able to stand Shoyo's fan girls. Surprisingly, I'm not. I find it almost funny how they are so obsessed with him knowing he only has eyes for me.

     A smile settles on my lips as I focus on my phone again, his clinginess, especially in the car, replaying in my mind. The smugness doesn't stay for long though. I scroll for less than a minute before my heart drops.

     Plastered on my phone - on the internet - is a picture of Shoyo and me. A picture of us in the car, of me in his lap, of his hands very obviously under my shirt, of his mouth eagerly suctioned to my neck. I don't know how, but thank the lord you can't see my face. However, you can easily make it out as him in the picture. He's tagged in the picture, the picture already with a hundred thousand likes and a little over a thousand comments.

     I stall for a moment, not sure if I should check the comments or not. I decide not to. I do however decide to share the link to the group chat. Instantly, Akaashi's phone dings, his eyebrow cocking up as he looks at me. "I don't want to talk about it until after Shoyo knows," I whisper, my tone a bit hissy as I glance at the man next to me.

     "Don't look at the comments," he mutters, letting the conversation drop after his statement. Akaashi's words make me both a bit frightened and intrigued, but I know how the public can be. It would be better not to look. I won't look.

———————————————————————

[madeintheniamh]

Please can you write something about Tilly having a panic attack because she’s stressed about school (maybe exams) and Harry is calming her down? That would be so cute!

sorry this has taken me so long to respond to, but it's here now at least. enjoy xxx

--------------------------------

you can let it go

stmf one shot #8.

a/n: loved writing this one! i know gcses and a levels are coming up for any of my fellow uk readers and i just wanna say if you're seeing this, please don't panic. exams are made up to be so much more than they actually are, and you are always more than what a piece of paper says.

warnings: panic attack, lots of dadrry and fluff haha

She had the pen in-between her fingers, but she couldn’t will her hand to get it to move across the page. Somewhere, deep down, she knew the answers, she knew them. But after spending weeks revising for her GCSE mock exams, she couldn’t get herself to jot them down onto the exam paper in front of her. She glanced around at the hall around her, and it looked as though the clock was playing tricks on her, the big hand moving at double the pace it should have been. She had the answers, but minute by minute, the hall was getting smaller, the pillars in-between the stained-glass windows beginning to close in on her, and her stomach beginning to churn in that horrible way that it always did when she knew she was about to lose control. She didn’t realise, but black mascara was beginning to spill down onto the paper, filling in the blanks where her answers should have been.

The room was now so small that she couldn’t take it anymore, and she stood up, dashing for one of the doors where one of the invigilators tried to block her from exiting. “Excuse me, you can’t-”

“I’m going to be sick,” She mumbled, flinging the great doors open in front of her to reveal a freezing January afternoon, the sun already beginning to set at 3pm. She shivered as she ran into the upper school block in an attempt to find her phone which she had left in her bag.

“Matilda Styles, why aren’t you in your exam,”

She jumped as her stern-faced head of year appeared directly in front of her, who was now angrily looking down at the phone Tilly was holding in her hand. “And you know you’re not allowed your phone out during the school-”

“I don’t care!” Tilly shouted as she turned around and began to sprint in the other direction towards the girls’ toilets, covering her hands as she realised what she had just said. Although most people including her generally despised her head of year, she had never once spoken back to a teacher in her nearly thirteen years at school, yet in the haze of it all, she just had. She heard the heavy footsteps following her down the hallway, but she didn’t care. She needed Harry, because Harry could fix anything like this. He always knew what to do.

----

“Sorry guys, we’re going to have to stop for a minute,” Harry sighed, his phone vibrating in one hand, whilst he held his guitar in the other. “Tilly’s calling me,”

He placed the guitar down on its stand before rushing out of the recording studio and pressing answer.

“Hey baby, how was your History exam? Did you finish early?”

He could hear her struggling breaths through the phone. “Daddy, I don’t know what to do, I’ve failed, I ran out, I-”

“Slow down, baby, it’s okay. Do you need me to come and get you?”

Her breaths were getting deeper by the second, as she couldn’t get the words out to answer him. “Tilly?” He gulped, beginning to feel sick himself. “Have you got your inhaler, baby?”

He could hear her fumbling around inside her handbag. “I think so, I,”

“Take deep breaths with it. I’m going to come and get you as soon as I can, but meanwhile you need to go and find someone and let them know whilst I’m on my way. You’ll do that, won’t you baby?”

Her hair was now stuck to the sides of her face with tears. “Okay, Daddy,”

“Okay, baby. I love you so much, you know that, don’t you?”

-------

He found her huddled up on an armchair in the corner of the school medical room, her face still pale, clutching tightly at the paper cup of water in her hand. Her red blazer was draped over her lap, but she still shivered as he placed his palm to her face and stroked it across her cheek, whilst taking the chair next to her.

“My gorgeous girl,” he whispered into her ear, his minty breath trailing across her neck. “How are you feeling,”

“I feel like shit,” she mumbled, her eyes still red rimmed and glossy from crying. “I didn’t write anything. I’ve failed,”

“That doesn’t matter, lovey. I want to know how you’re feeling, in yourself,” he smiled, willing him to look into his eyes. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I don’t know, the room just got really small and I got really hot, and then I felt sick, and then I got up and I ran out, and I don’t know,” she began to cry, burrowing her head in his chest. “It was horrible,”

“I bet, baby, it sounds like it,” he soothed. “But these things are sent to try us, aren’t they? And it’s only a mock,”

“But I’ve failed Daddy, and I worked so hard,”

“I’m sure you can re-do it, baby. But you’re starting to worry me. This isn’t the first time you’ve felt like this, is it?” he asked her, now tipping her chin up to face him from where she was avoiding his eye contact. “Is it?” He asked again.

“I don’t need to go again, Dad,” she whimpered. “I hated it. She just asked me all these weird questions, and it made me cry,”

“But you only tried it once, lovey,” He exhaled slowly. “Therapy takes a long time to work,”

“I don’t need therapy, Dad!” she cried. “I’m not crazy!”

“I’m not saying that, T. I go to therapy, and I’m not crazy, am I? Lots of people go. You never know, it could help you,”

“But I’m frightened, Daddy,” she breathed.

He smoothed her hair from her face before peppering a kiss to her forehead. “Frightened of what?”

“I like it when it’s me telling you things,” she whispered. “You always get it. What if they don’t get it?”

“I can go with you, lovey, if it makes you feel better,” he soothed. “But it would really make me proud if you could give it one more go, for me, and I will make sure all this exam business is sorted, you don’t need to worry. I just need you to go home and get some rest, because I know you haven’t slept in days,”

“Okay, Dad,” she moaned. “If you say so,”

He kissed her again. “Good. You know no matter what a stupid exam says, I will always be so proud of you, okay?”

[tenabrye]

I find it so amusing that in the manga, Vash cant drive. I think its adorable that hes this kick ass outlaw, but cant drive lol

Could I get headcanons or a fic maybe for the reader teaching Stampede Vash how to drive (hopefully better than Meryl) and they develop feelings for each other while doing it?

Thank you so much!

Imagine being someone with such a high bounty on your head who is also a badass without trying, yet you can't drive to save your life. XD

"I step on this one?"

"No, that's the brake," you sighed, telling him for the tenth time, "you need to step on the gas pedal." You had gone over what was what with Vash for what seemed like hours. You watched as his hands gripped the steering wheel and his foot pressed on the gas pedal, causing the vehicle to lurch forward with an agonizing screech. The noise caused the blond to release his foot and turn to you, taking note of your wide eyes. He then followed your gaze and stared at the gearshift. It was still in park. "You really won't get anywhere with it being in park."

The man chuckled and scratched his cheek in a sheepish manner with his finger. "I, uh, whoops." He heard you sigh once more before he shifted the vehicle out of park and to drive. "Sorry," he said.

"It's fine," you assured him, "it's a common mistake."

"Really?" He asked.

"No," you said, causing him to frown, "but that's why I'm here. Hopefully with my teaching, you'll learn how to drive. Maybe even better than Meryl."

Vash huffed through his nose and smiled. "That's a lot of hope you have for me."

"Not hope, because I know you will. Now," you paused and gestured to the gas pedal, "you can drive without hearing that awful noise, but don't--" Before you could finish your sentence, Vash had stepped on the gas pedal, causing the car to quickly roll forward. You gripped the dash and held onto the small handle on the roof of the car, squeezing it tightly as you clenched your teeth. "Stop, stop, stop!" You hollered out, and the blond was quick to stomp on the brake, causing you to lurch forward.

"What did I do wrong?" He asked, lips curving into a frown as he saw the slight fear on your face.

"You can't just step on the gas like that," you told him, "you have to ease into it gently." Your grip on the handle loosened and you sighed, leaning your head back against the head rest. "The easiest way to put it is to imagine gently pressing your foot down in the sand."

He blinked before carrying out your instructions, the toe of his boot slowly pressing down on the gas pedal, causing the vehicle to gently move forward again. His hands had a firm grip on the steering wheel, and he kept his eyes on the dirt road in front of him. You did the same, often glancing at Vash to see how he was doing.

"Thank you for doing this," he said.

"You had to learn sooner or later. Besides," you paused to smile at him, "you're a fast learner. It's not too difficult to explain things to you."

Vash hummed, his lips having curled into a soft smile as he kept his eyes on the road. "It helps to have a teacher with a lot of patience." Truth be told, he was ecstatic when you said you would teach him how to drive. This allowed the two of you to be alone in the car, and for him to relish in your presence. He just didn't know you felt the same, and it's partly the reason as to why you were teaching him how to drive. The other part being that it was something he definitely needed to know in case the situation called for it.

"It helps even more when the student is so calm." Silence followed you both as you stared out ahead, watching as the blond kept the vehicle straight during the drive. It wasn't until the car rolled to a slow stop, having reached a small intersection, that your lips parted to speak. Before you could say anything about him turning, Vash carefully maneuvered the car in the left direction, causing you to smile in satisfaction. "See? You're practically a natural now. Since no one is around, you can go faster if you'd like to."

The approval to do so caused him to press the gas pedal down a bit more, the car now moving at a faster rate down the road. "I'm glad it was you to teach me. I get to both learn how to drive and be around someone I like."

You blinked, head snapping in his direction as you stared at him. "Like?" You asked, brow now raised. "You like everyone, though."

The car slowed until it came to a stop, and Vash put it in park before he turned to look at you. "The feelings I have for you aren't the same with the others. I like you, a lot."

Your lips curled into a broader smile. "Well, that certainly explains how enthusiastic you were about learning how to drive. You could've asked for anyone, yet you chose me for that reason." A small chuckle slipped out and your eyes softened as you stared at the blond. "I like you, too, Vash. Always have." A light crimson hue dusted his cheeks the second you leaned over and planted a light kiss to his cheek. "How about you drive us back and we can catch up on how long we've liked one another?"

With a slow nod, the blond put the vehicle into drive and gently stepped on the gas pedal. "Maybe we can continue the driving lesson later?" You hummed in agreement, and Vash couldn't help but grin. Today truly was the best.

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Hey guys! Sorry part 2 took me so long to get to, but it's here and this will be the last part of the mini series!

Part 1

Credit dividers go to saradika-graphics! Go follow them and support their work

Unconventional Royalties (Part 2)

Arriving at the castle with all the other carriages was surprisingly quick. You rode up to the bottom of the steps leading up to the main building, step out, and the carriage is sent off somewhere for the horses to rest and eat. You've never been to such a nice party before, especially not a royal one, so you're a bit lost on what to do or where to go. You follow the crowd up the steps and into the castle, where you find yourself in the ballroom. There are couples there dancing, food, drinks, but most of all, single people. This was a ball for the prince to find a partner after all.

You begin to feel insecure seeing all of the people there. Surely they could all see right through you, judging you for the cleaning person you were. You had no business being here you should leave. Or at least, you think you should until you see one of your step-sisters laughing while drinking some champagne. It is then you realize that you could finally get your revenge. You could take the prince for yourself, ruin everything they've ever dreamed of. And once you too are royalty, you'll make sure they know the pain you've felt over the years. It is then that the lights begin to dim, and a hush falls over the crowd of people. The prince and his father appear at the top of the steps, where his father gives a short speech about the reason everyone is gathered.

Once the speech is finished, there is an applaud given before the prince moves to go down the steps and seek out the first person he will dance with. You've never seen the prince before, barely even heard of him. However, he is very good looking. Long locs pulled back into a neat ponytail, a dashing suit, the only thing that sours him is his expression. He doesn't look like he wants to be here, really. He actually looks like he'd rather be anywhere else. But for the good of the royal family, he is here anyways. You see your sisters practically trample each other to get a chance to dance with the prince. The curtsy, he bows, and he quickly scoops one of them up in a dance, seemingly in a hurry to get it over with. There are a lot of people waiting for their chance to dance with him, so he can't afford being slow.

The dancing goes on for a few hours, before he finally reaches you. You (curtsy/bow) and he bows in response. He places a hand on your waist, and the other goes to interlock with your fingers. Your free hand goes to rest on his shoulder as you begin dancing. You realize this is your chance to steal his heart, so you begin to engage in conversation. "You don't want to be here" You point out. You swear you can almost see a smile on his lips. "Is it that obvious?" He is quiet for a moment. "Why would you dance with me if you know I don't want to marry you?" He asks. You smile, remembering your plan. You instead put on your sweetest face and giggle "Maybe I like making new friends". He chuckles and pulls away with a bow "Well maybe we could become friends....meet me at the fountain? After the party?" You look at him for a moment before nodding with a smile. "Alright. See you then."

You have no reason to stick around other than to talk to him, so you go straight out to the fountain outside of the castle. It is around 10 o'clock when you see him emerge, seemingly having slipped away while no one was looking and hoping he didn't get caught. When he sees you, he bows and sits next to you. You raise a brow and lean back onto your hands "You don't have to act all prissy, you know. It's just us" He seems to relax a little more, sighing deeply while he does so. "Yeah, I guess you're right"

You talk for hours, and before you know it, the midnight clock is ringing. You gasp and check the clock, just to be sure and when you see that it's true, you jump up and begin to gather yourself up. As you begin to run off, Jack catches your hand "wait! I don't even know your name yet!" You snatch your hand away and give him an apologetic look before running off, trying to catch your carriage as it runs off without you, desperate to get back to your house. You feel your shoe slip off behind you, but it is too late to turn back and get it, so you continue running.

The next day, you are awaken by the pounding of your stepmother's fist on your door. You slept in way too late. Your head is pounding as you get up, while she throws orders at you. All you seem to catch is "Prince....marriage.....found the one....all he has is a shoe..." You realize that she is talking about you! You drop your jaw and gasp, before asking hurriedly "How is he going to find them?" Your step mother raises her brow before sighing. "He's going to every house in the kingdom, checking to see if anyone matches the appearance of the person he wanted to marry, and if they do he will ask them to try on the shoe the person dropped on their way out, just to be sure it's them." You begin to smile "And by every house you mean....is he coming to our house too?" You had only had so little time to get to know the prince, but despite that you had begun to catch feelings for him. At first yes, your plan was just to marry him for the benefits, but it seems that in getting to know him, you realized just how much you have in common. He is also quite handsome, so that doesn't hurt either.

Your stepmother scoffs, pulling you out of your thoughts. "Of course, stupid child. I'd never let my daughters miss this opportunity" You smile to yourself and go about your chores with a light heart, knowing this is the last time you'd ever have to do them. You are the first to hear his carriage pull up and the horses whinny. Your sisters come rushing down the stairs, followed by your stepmother. She quickly greets the prince and his worker who holds the shoe. She presents her daughters, and they curtsy dramatically, making a show of bending as far down as they can. He quickly eyes over them and seeing that they don't look like you, he apologizes for intruding and begins to leave. Your sisters rush over to him, begging him to stay and just get to know them. That is when he sees you, staring at him, broom in hand. He gently pushes your sisters aside and walks over to you, staring at you for a moment before taking your hands in his own. "It's you." He says quietly.

Your step mother steps in and separates you two. "Oh, pay them no mind, your highness. They are just....a cleaner." She says, eyeing you angrily. Jack leans around her to look at you "But you won't mind if I test it, surely?" The worker walks over, ready to hand Jack the shoe. Knowing she has no other choice, your stepmother sighs and steps away, though she is confident you won't be a match. You pull up a chair and sit, allowing the worker to slide the shoe onto your foot and....it's a perfect match. Down to the last centimeter of where your ankle ends. Jack smiles and takes your hands in his again, pulling you close. Your sisters sneer and gasp, and your mother is enraged. "Surely, this is a coincident. I mean, is it really that rare for two people to look alike and have the same shoe size? They couldn't have even gone to the ball, they were busy here at home, cleaning."

Jack looks to you with furrowed brows, silently asking if this is true. You bring a finger up to where his forehead crinkles and smooth it down with your finger. "No need to act all prissy.....it's just us" You whisper with a smile. He grins wide, because now he knows without a shadow of a doubt that he's found his partner.

[darkeneddawningmain]

I live! And I'm writing a fic

Hello, everyone! :) I've re-started the process of moving this blog over to a side blog (@darkeneddawning) when I have time. End goal is to have all my art and stuff from here over there, so my main blog (this one) can be used for everything. The side blog will be where I post new phandom art and stuff.

Hopefully the transfer isn't too confusing for everyone. If you want to follow me to see my phandom art and stuff, you might want to wait until my side blog is all caught up, or you'll be spammed with me reblogging all of my old art over there for the next while. I'll announce on this blog when it's done and wait at least a week so people have time to unfollow this blog if they don't want my reblogs of everything I like to clutter up their dashes.

But I'm too impatient to wait until I'm done with that before I start posting again, so here's a blurb from the DP x DC Circus Gothica crossover fic I'm writing! It's going to be a while before I can post it since I've got a lot going on and I'm a very slow writer so far, but I'm hoping posting about it will keep me motivated to continue working on it :)

It's not a very long blurb, but I'll put it under a read more anyway (along with a synopsis of the fic):

Fic synopsis:

Wait, but if I’m mind controlled, and you’re mind controlled, then who’s catching the evil ringmaster??

Jason wasn’t expecting to join the suspicious circus he was investigating on Dick’s behalf, but a day in found him planning a heist with his new posse of co-slaves. At least getting in on the action gave him the answers he was looking for, as well as some others to questions he’d forgotten he was still asking.

Or: A new circus rolls into Bludhaven, trailing a history of too many pilfered towns to be a coincidence. Dick asks Jason to look into it on account of Dick’s circus related trauma. Jason was expecting to find evidence, not a one-way ticket to minion town, or a mysterious boy who somehow calmed the insatiable waters of the pit. Who is this boy, and what can he teach Jason about himself?

----

Though he felt compelled to come, he didn’t know what was wanted of him now that he was here.

“This area is off limits to guests. Can I help you?”

That reaper kid from the performance, head attached, was looking at Jason with a raised brow. The same Red color that was swirling around Jason’s brain occupied the kid’s irises. Now he was up close, Jason could see how the kid’s stage eyeliner was only a slight enhancement to the genuine dark circles under his eyes. With those in addition to the gaunt hollowness of his cheeks, the kid looked like he hadn’t slept in years.

Jason smiled. It wasn’t a natural smile, but the Red liked it. “I’m here to, uh… cross over to the dark side?” That was all the Red was giving him to work with.

Reaper kid squinted at him, then drew back in surprise. “Woah, I totally thought you were human. Is that a disguise?” he asked, walking up to Jason.

“Disguise?” Jason glanced down at his body like it would clue him in to what reaper kid was talking about. He looked plenty human to himself. “What else would I be?” Was this important to the Red’s mission? Red was starting to feel a little more impatient.

“Uh, you know,” the kid gave a dismissive hand wave, but clarified: “Dead?”

[somethingwittyandweird]

So I finished Sea of Stars today (as anyone with me on their dash will find out as soon as they scroll past this post). Long story short, I loved it! It was a really solid experience from start to finish, and I'm going to take a moment here to sing some praises.

Early on the first thing that charmed me was the environment design- it felt like I could follow my character's journey visually on the world map through the zones when I entered and exited them, which just testifies to how well made the overworld map is. The environment designs were just great in general- every place was visually interesting and some of the backgrounds were absolutely jaw dropping.

I liked the combat system! It's not hard by any means but it's fun. It starts out slow to ramp up the interesting features and many times in the early game I felt like combats were over before I got to use any cool moves, but by the time you unlock all the mechanics it's a really dynamic system. I like the choice to flatten the MP bars and skill costs and put an emphasis on alternating spending MP on two-three skills and then basic attacking to replenish it. The live mana system gives another dynamic angle that ended up feeling a lot like Octopath's BP system in execution (again, setting up a cadence of small attacks to charge -> big damage attack -> repeat) but also interacted well with the lock system. The combo attacks are a highlight and the elemental lock system encourages nearly all of them to enter the rotation. The only gripe I have is that the Obligatory Indie RPG Timed Hits Like Paper Mario, while they do have good feel once you get them down, *really* could have used a timing example on first appearance, or someplace to practice using them. When a new party member showed up with a completely different attack pattern, it took me several fights of pressing A at random times during the animation to figure out where the right timing window was. Turning on the modifier that gave feedback on perfect timing was helpful to know when I had it, but I didn't like having to guess what part of the animation I was aiming at in the first place.

The characters were excellent- though I don't have much to say about some of them, others of them felt like they were aimed directly at me and the types of character I like. There were multiple times that I was delighted to see a new character get to join the ensemble and not just remain in place. I think they were all treated well by the story and most importantly, all had their moments to shine. On that, the story in this one was also excellent- some good twists and some *really* heartfelt plot beats that will stick with me. One visually shattering moment in the middle gave me that awe-struck "oh to experience that again for the first time" feeling whenever I passed through that area thereafter. Just an overall good story well told.

Like I said in my last post, I enjoyed the gamefeel of traversal, which is surprising since JRPGs aren't really a movement focused genre. But again, with the addition of verticality, climbing up ledges and rock walls, and later on the grapple hook to cross gaps, I was pretty engaged even when backtracking- though there was very little backtracking, since the world and environments were designed as very straightforward and easy to navigate. The collectibles and sidequests were at a good challenge level where they weren't free but they also didn't take dozens of hours to scour the world for the hidden door, etc. The game also gives you a modifier that gives a radar for collectibles too making it easy to get that nice shiny completion star. And the sidequests were all worthwhile too, especially the late game character-specific questlines. The full completion reward true ending surprised me at first, but I settled into it once the feelings started to flow.

It wouldn't be fair to the game to not mention the way it wears its love for Chrono Trigger and other SNES-era JRPGs on its sleeve. If "Guest Composer: Yasunori Mitsuda" wasn't enough of a clue, the story is tucked full of easter eggs and references, combo attacks and enemies and environments and plot beats that fans of Chrono Trigger would identify easily. But I think it handles the inspiration well, being an homage that still keeps up its own identity. The lore tying it to the studio's other game, The Messenger, helps with that. It's not just "hey let's remake this game we're all nostalgic for beat for beat" and more "hey let's do our own thing but throw in a lot of nods for us and for other people who are nostalgic for this."

Overall, playing the game was great to end 2023 and finishing the game is a killer start to 2024! A very hearty recommend from me.

[pancake-breakfast]

These last volumes have so many chapters. But they're relatively short.

It's hard to think there's only two weeks left.

Stream-of-consciousness thoughts for TriMax Vol. 13, Chapters 1-3 below.

Volume 13 Covers

Ugh, Vash is in too much shadows here. But look at Livio! He looks happy! Is it because he's losing part of his shirt again? I don't think this boy likes shirts.

Aaand everyone's plans have bee thwarted by a friendly octopus. He has that many arms so he can give more hugs!

Shout out to pirate Livio's new and improved fish gun.

Everyone on the back cover's got weird eyes for some reason.

I like how only Elendira gets to keep her shape on the back cover. She's ready to be a dashing pirate.

Why is one of the chapters called "Black"? WHY IS ONE OF THE CHAPTERS CALLED BLACK?!?!

Chapter 1: False Mirror

Oooh, fancy Legato vs. Vash page. I like it.

Ey, it's naked, long-haired Knives again. Been a while since we've seen him.

Definitely Legato thoughts. I guess that day made a bit of an impression on him. Can't imagine why.

Man, this is why Legato wears them big-ass shoulder pads. If I had his history, I'd obscure my actual figure, too.

It sure is in character for Knives not to realize the value of the humans around him.

Gods, Vash looks both desperate and exhausted.

Aaaand Legato's fucking with him.

Holy crap, Legato actually asked Knives about killing Vash to his face??

Gods, Knives is absolutely yawning here for show. He's putting work into trying to make Legato feel like he means nothing to him.

Oh, Legato... baby boy.... You were never going to win Knives' affection by proving you could beat Vash in a fight.

Oof, he sees himself in Vash. I don't even think he's wrong. Vash feels like he's lost everything, that even what still remains, he's doomed to lose if only by the slow march of time.

I make a lot of comments about Legato's unhinged smiles, but I really like his pensive looks, too. I think he's one of the more expressive characters in the series.

I mean, if you want to get technical, he didn't kill so many of them so much as he happened to be more or less present at their death.

I'm curious how this coin holder is tied to a "prize" or a "gift" of some sort.

So... this isn't really a game to Legato. It's not even a test for Vash. It's a test for himself. He just can't shake the idea that if he can utterly crush Vash, he'll take Vash's spot before Knives. Gods, this little yandere.... The world doesn't work like that. Knives doesn't work like that.

All the Gung-Ho Guns he went through, and again, we have the mask side of Livio and a suspicious lack of Wolfwood. Even Chapel doesn't appear this time.

Chapter 2: Double Duel

I'm not quite sure what Vash is getting worked up about here. Perhaps he thinks Legato is making too much light of all the deaths of the Gung-Ho Guns?

Legato is not impressed by Vash's threat. He wants him to follow through or not bother.

I'm continually impressed by people's ability to apparently clearly talk around having the barrel of a gun in their mouth.

I'm honestly not sure what all is happening here. How did Vash get on the ground? What's happening with Legato's right arm? What's up with the pole on a chain? I guess Legato is moving the pole on a chain? It's too big to be reflected by the box he gave Vash, so maybe that's where he's putting his effort?

Well, he spat out the gun. Now he has pole.

Ah I thought I remembered it being attached to the weird boobed spiky ball thing. There's a name for this kind of weapon but I have a headache so I'm not looking it up right now. Generally, it doesn't have a humanoid attachment. It's just a spiky ball on a chain.

Heh, this is them getting their own back-to-back.

Yeah, Livio is hard to kill, thankfully.

Clearly, that's not gonna stop her from trying.

Ahhhhh!! It's good to see Livio comfortable with himself. It's easy to mistake him for a brute, but he has enough talent that, while Chapel didn't expect him to win, he did expect L/R to give Wolfwood a hard time.

Ahahahahaha, he's so cute here.

Chapter 3: Corpse Fire

It's ok, these people don't really have a concept of interstellar travel, so it's not like they have a formalized system for space ships landing.

I think Chronica's a bit desperate. And hurt. She definitely didn't take the loss of Domina lightly.

Legato, my boy, now you're just being dramatic. I mean, I know that's how you are... but Vash has never been keen on theatrics in the name of violence.

DON'T LICK THAT IT'S ON THE GROUND IT'S DIRTY EWW

I don't think Vash believes in things like "dying in a blaze of glory." I think he sees death as death, and that's kinda it.

LEGATO!!! This is NOT about who is "best!" KNIVES. DOES NOT. CARE.

Oh, honey. If it weren't for Vash, humanity probably wouldn't have lasted long enough for you to be born. I realize you probably wouldn't see that as a bad thing, so let me further note that if you had, he wouldn't have accepted you any more. He might have discarded you already because he wouldn't need your help wearing Vash down.

What the eff is this thing?! Now it's full of machine guns?!?

Hahahaha, Livio's trying to call a time out in the middle of the fight.

Ok, that's some impressive dodging.

I like how Livio is more annoyed at Elendira than he is mad that she's still shooting at him after he called for a time out.

Livio <3 Love how annoyed Elendira looks that she's been had, too.

Archive

Trigun Vol. 1: Covers + 1-3, 4, 5-6, 7-8, 9-10 || Vol. 2: Covers + Extras, 1, 2-4, 5-6, 7-8

TriMax Vol. 1: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 2: Covers + 1, 2-4, 5, 6-7 || Vol. 3: Covers + 1-3, 4-5, 6-7 || Vol. 4: Covers + 1-2, 3-5, 6-7 || Vol. 5: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 6: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 7: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 8: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5 + Bonus || Vol. 9: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 10: Covers + 1-3, 4-5, 6-8 || Vol. 11: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 5-6 || Vol. 12: Covers + 1-3, 4-6, 7-9

Extra Credit: Trigun Vol. 1: Nebraska vs. Vash's Motivations, Vash's Loneliness, Vash's Depression (pt. 2 of post), Soupy Brains || Vol. 2: Coin Factoids || TriMax Vol. 1: Lina, Vash, and a Haircut || Meryl, Vash, and the Pursuit of Happiness || Vol. 5: Knives, Vash, and Hatred for Humanity || Vol. 6: Coping Series: Wolfwood, Meryl, Vash || Vol. 8: The Uncoordinated Counterattack || Vol. 9: Justice, Punishment, and Mercy, The Tolling of an Iron Bell || Vol. 10: Crucifixion Symbology (pt. 2 of post), Merging of Families, Being Childlike (And Why God Hates Chapel) || Vol. 11: New Hair, New Outlook

[2c75ff]

//leaves url. sends compensation for mess you might find.

🔵 -- 'MY OPINION ON...' meme . ACCEPTING

my opinion on;

CHARACTER IN GENERAL. My fondness for characters that hail from various corners within the realm of Cosmic Weirdness really can't be overstated. Like, I've had my own all-consuming, fuck-all-massive cosmic decomposer Entity to play around with in the past, so, trust me, I get it; and I love encountering other people who get and take pleasure in it as well.

HOW THEY PLAY THEM. Atieno isn't a flat person (or, well--...again, entity) by any stretch of the imagination. However, there's a certain 'takes everything they're faced with exactly as it comes, without treating anything as being inherently more 'normal' or 'abnormal' than anything else' flavor to the brunt of their responses which lends itself well to the overall sense that this Being is something which exists very much outside of human (or even alien) values and constructs, even if they might be familiar enough with many of those constructs to move within them at their choosing with relative grace.

This flavor lends itself too to the idea that Atieno is perhaps drawn to mortals for being exactly what they themselves are not -- short-lived, mercurial, luminous little beings, interesting to Atieno precisely because they're small, and flawed. By the same token though, they wither so quickly -- so then here Atieno is, caught within the perpetual conundrum of balancing their own ennui and desire for stimulation/connection against the reality that quite nearly every connection they could possibly cultivate will ultimately end with the other party leaving or dying, and themselves alone once again. They protect themselves with distance -- but not as well as they might think.

THE WRITER. We haven't really talked yet (which is due purely to my legendary slowness, for the record; not to any fault or failing on your part), but I do notice how you never fail to humor me when it comes to my little 'get to know each other' memes and such-like. I have no doubt you're the same way with other people on your dash as well. I know I haven't really invited any interactions of more significant weight/length yet, but even so I see and appreciate your patience and willingness to engage with me even as I painstakingly get my feet under me here. My speed is really the one thing I'm sensitive about as a known weakness, precisely because I know right up front that it'll make me an unattractive writing/chatting partner to a lot of people; but I've never gotten the impression from you that you care about that, or that you're the sort to hold it against people when they have busy adult lives. It comes across as mature; and, for that, I thank you. You truly are a blessing.

do i;

FOLLOW THEM. Yes. RP WITH THEM. Not yet. WANT TO RP WITH THEM. Of course. SHIP THEIR CHARACTER WITH MINE. As always, I'd need to see these two in action together before I could say with any kind of confidence whether or not a more romantic angle might be in the cards for them in the future. As far as first impressions go, I'll say that it doesn't seem very likely to me, but I'll also say that that's neither an insult nor a bad thing.

Seventeen is most apt to be drawn to those who, shall we say, wear their caring openly -- who make it obvious that there's stuff in the world that matters to them in big ways. People who generally bear themselves in outwardly neutral ways and don't really get ruffled or hyped or whatever else on the regular--? Well and good; but it really doesn't tend to inspire romantic or sexual interest in him if the composure never falters or arranges itself into something more demonstrative. People who care about something, and who make that obvious, in their own way, make him feel more connected to his own humanity by sheer proximity; and that's something that absolutely matters to him for all that he might not be the sort to admit it quite so plainly.

what is my;

OVERALL OPINION. I hate this question because it's like [gestures vaguely at the previous multiple paragraphs], so I'm just going to fill this space with whatever song happens to be in my earbuds at this exact moment and call it a day.

[vartouhix]

WHAT NOT TO DO WHEN INTERACTING WITH MY BLOG - Customizable Edition

BASICS !

Name / Alias: Luna.

Pronouns: she/her.

Blog type: single muse | multi-muse | non selective | semi selective | selective | mutuals only | private | other (specify: we don't have to be mutuals to do threads together! as my rules state, sometimes i don't like someone reblogging a lot of stuff on dash, so i unfollow to keep my dash cleaner... OR, i haven't followed back because i haven't thought of anything good to write between our muses. we can still interact, however! just send me a dm to plot or a meme for me to try to cook up a starter for our muses :3 if i haven't thought of anything good to write between our muses, i'll be relying heavily on you during plotting, tho! just a heads up.)

Type of muses: canon | OCs | both | other (specify: ehhhh... you mean MY muse or others'? MY muse is an OC, but I accept OCs and canons!)

GENERALITIES !

Triggers people MUST tag: doubtful that anyone would reblog this, but visual depictions--like a gifset or art--of sa.

Interest tracker / checker: I have it and it's mandatory | I have it, it's not mandatory but I'm more likely to follow back / interact with the people who fill it | I have one and I prefer it if people fill it in | I have it but it's to people whether to fill it or not | I don't have one | other (specify)

Reblog karma: I practise it | I practise it sometimes | I don't practise it | I always reblog memes from the source | indifferent | other (specify)

Rule passwords: I have one and it's mandatory | I have one and it's optional | I don't have one | I send passwords | don't sent passwords | [space for eventual additions / explanations]

3-5 ESSENTIAL RULES PEOPLE HAVE TO RESPECT

please be patient. sometimes i am just very tired and don't have the wherewithal to plot/write. i'm always looking for new writing partners, but i can be slow about reading through a muse's lore. (i will always read the rules before i follow.) if i don't reach out to you to plot or for a thread or something for a while, it's just because i'm distracted/tired/still thinking/still need to read thru things and brainstorm some stuff.

communication! let me know if you want to drop a thread. let me know if you want more than one thread. let me know if you have a problem with something. ask me if you think you need to godmode a little so i can let you know what my character would react like, so that you can include it in your reply. let me know if you want to ship or do an au. just let me know what you're thinking! ^^

aaaaaaall sorts of shipping rules can be found here, but the main takeaway is that shipping is based on chemistry!

please don't give me starters or send me asks about how pretty a color her hair is. it bores me to tears and i've gotten SO MANY over the past ten years of rping her.

3-5 IMPORTANT PET PEEVES TO KEEP IN MIND

no guilt tripping! whether that be about wanting your muse's feelings for mine to be reciprocated, or about replying to a thread/meme.

please help me "water your mutuals' gardens"... not just mine but others on the dash too! i hate seeing others feel left out ):

do not come at me for playing with multiple of the same canons/face claims. i believe that every interpretation of a canon muse is different and valid, and i do not treat them as interchangeable with another muse. i cannot control for what face claims are used for muses whose lore i find interesting, either. i can promise you that i appreciate you and your muse and you are NOT replaceable to me. simply put, i do not limit myself to interacting with x number of canons/face claims because i want to give everyone whose lore is interesting to me a chance.

2-5 THINGS THAT WILL LEAD TO INSTANT (SOFT)BLOCKING

callouts. i know how to keep myself safe online. if you or others don't and you had a bad experience with an individual, my opinion is keep it to yourself and move on. i find that people who try to "bring problematic behavior to light" are never the angels they make themselves out to be, and as a result i am wary of callouts.

reblogging too much real world stuff. i am a very anxious individual, especially about the state of the world we live in. i get enough political/world stage talk from my family and it spikes my anxiety. this is my escape and i intend to curate my experience here so that i'm not anxious, thanks. couldn't tell you how often is "too often" or how much is "too much," though.

2-5 THINGS THAT LEAD ME TO UNFOLLOW / SOFTBLOCK A MUTUAL / SOMEONE I INTERACT WITH

months of inactivity.

too many non-writing related reblogs. like pics, ooc posts, inspo posts, etc. again, couldn't tell you how many is "too many."

2-5 REASON YOU DON'T TO FOLLOW (BACK) SOMEONE

no rules page. if an oc, no information page about the muse will also make me wait until there's more for me to learn.

you don't mention your age somewhere.

tagged by: stole it :3 tagging: EVERYONE!!! I WANNA KNOW MORE ABOUT U ALL <3

[localcryptidsteg]

ITS FINALLY DONE

Chapter 2- The Mountain Temple and the Monkey King

Following the golden furred monkey deeper into the jungle, Mk observed two things: first, the corruption seemed to recede before the spirit, just enough to allow he and Mei to follow safely after. Second, it closed in again behind them. There was no going back without the spirit.

Mei was the first to make an attempt at small talk. “So, you know our names.” She didn't finish the thought, tail swishing behind her as she waited for the spirit to pick up. “Mhm! Mei and Mk!” The monkey grinned, darting up a tree briefly to check their surroundings before hopping back down. He didn't respond further.

Mei sighed. “So what's yours?” She snipped. “Oh! Uh... I have a couple of em! My friends call me Sun Wukong, but most people call me... The Monkey King!” He turned with a flourish, posturing proudly with his hands on his hips and looking expectantly at the two...

... Who both just blinked back at him in confusion.

“Aw come on, you guys! Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of me! I used to be a huge deal!” The spirit pouted. Mei shrugged. “Sorry, man. There are legends about the two kingdoms that were here, but nothing about actual kings.” Mk nodded in agreement.

The monkey demon grumbled and turned around, going back to leading the little group. “Hasn’t even been that long, ungrateful-!” He muttered under his breath.

“Its been about 300 years, actually!” Mk interrupted. “And nobody who's come here before has ever come back, so it's not like we have a record or anything...”

Mei stopped that train of thought before Mk could spiral into despair, as he was wont to do. “Anyways. What about the other guy? If you're the Monkey King, is he just the Normal Monkey? And no offense but he was dressed a lot more like a king than you are.”

Wukong scoffed. “He's the resident asshole, also the Other Monkey King, but that's NOT important!” he brushed gracelessly over that particular topic, ducking under some vines and holding them up for his companions.

“So it's true then? There really were two kingdoms here at one point?” Mk asked, barely restrained curiousity in his voice. “What happened here?”

Wukong stopped, shoulders falling. “... That’s not my story to tell, bud.” He answered quietly. “Look, I'll explain what I can when we get to the temple, but-” he was cut short by heavy footsteps. “-It's not safe out here!” He half-hissed half-whispered, moving an arm protectively in front of the young spirit guides.

A towering creature made of twisted wood stepped in front of them, wandering the jungle aimlessly. It seemed, for a moment, like it would pass them by, but something made it stop and turn directly toward Wukong. The gold spirit chuckled nervously, tail lashing behind him. “Uh. Hey big guy! Don't suppose you're just gonna let us pass...?”

He was met with a large wooden club being dropped a hair's breadth from his face. “Yeah, that's what I figured, RUN! GO GO GO GO GO!” The Monkey King frantically turned, shoving Mk and Mei ahead of himself. “You're not ready to fight this thing yet, so don't look back!” He urged as the trio sprinted away. The wooden spirit gave chase, only marginally slowed by the flora and terrain.

“WHAT GIVES, MAN? WHAT IS THAT?” Mk screeched hysterically. “What, you’ve never seen a wood knight before? Thought you were a spirit guide, kid!” The monkey shouted back. “Where are we going???” Mei yelled.

“Detour! Don't worry about it!”

The group made a mad dash toward what appeared to be a break in the trees, only to find themselves at the edge of a crumbled cliff face. “Fuck! I swear there used to a bridge here!” Wukong bristled, and thinking fast, grabbed Mk by the wrist. Mei looked like she could handle herself, but Mk was clearly new to all this.

“Ready kid? On three you gotta jump! Aim for that ledge!”

“What??”

“Don't think about it just do it-” The wood knight interrupted him, broaching the treeline “-Now!”

Mk jumped as instructed and Wukong followed. “See? Not so bad, right you two?” The spirit laughed breathlessly, clinging to the rock formation. Mk had already hauled himself to the flat ledge top. Catching his breath he looked around. “... Mei?”

When she didn't respond, his eyes snapped back toward the other ledge. The dragon girl was locked in combat with the creature, and actually seemed to be doing pretty well. She managed to topple it, even, but when she turned to follow the others, a wall of thorns and glowing magenta pustules seemed to errupt from out of nowhere, blocking the way forward.

“Mei!” Mk's voice cracked with worry.

“Im fine, Mk!” The dragon girl's voice floated over the wall in response. “You two go on ahead, I'll find another way around!”

Mk tried to protest but the sound of her footsteps thundering further away told him she wasn’t going to be reasoned with.

Mk looked helplessly between the wall and the Monkey King. Crestfallen, the spirit shook his head. “There's nothing I can do about big patches like that, kid. I'm sorry. I don't think she's coming back.” He scratched at the back of his neck, equal parts disappointed and frustrated.

Mk was silent for a moment before steeling his nerves “... She said she'd find another way around.” He turned to keep moving. “Mei never lies. So I have to believe she'll find another way. We have to keep going.”

Wukong observed the boy silently for a moment, a bit surprised by this new resolve. “Hm.” The spirit nodded. “Alright then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cliffside path to the Mountain Temple was just as corrupted as the jungle had been, at first. But as vegetation grew more sparse, so did the rot. The walk to the temple was spent mostly in solemn silence. Wukong had made it clear he didn't think Mei would survive the jungle, and Mk didn't want to talk about what happened.

It wasn't the most comfortable trek, but the mood shifted a bit as the massive stone temple carved into the side of the mountain came into view around a bend in the path.

“Here we are! Home sweet home! Sorta.” The monkey king turned and finally removed his mask, grinning at Mk.

“You really are a monkey!” Mk blinked in surprise, taking in the face peering back at him. Gold eyes set against a peach-toned marking blinked back. “What, did the tail not give it away?” Wukong's lips curled back over his fangs as he snickered at the boy's shock.

“Well no, I mean- I thought you were like Mei and it was just the tail, or it wasn't literal, or something!”

Wukong just grinned at him.

“Nah! Anyways, we're nearly there, so I should probably warn you about the others! Most of them are fine, but you're going to want to avoid the lion, the pig, and the bull for now, at least until I can show you how to purify the corruption. Lucky you, they don't usually show up unless you go looking!”

“Why? What's their deal?” Mk frowned, curious. He noted that the closer they got to the temple, the more gravestones and statues and little shrines littered the path. They all had worn masks tied to them. “And... how many others are there, anyway?”

Wukong slowed. “Too many. Not nearly as many as there used to be, but still too many. Their deal is the same as the guy you saw me fighting earlier. They're trapped here because they're mad and scared and won't let go.”

He hopped down a crumbled staircase in the path and held out a hand to steady Mk.

“You're not the first spirit guides to show up, kid. Most of them did help, a little. But they all eventually ran up against a spirit that was too much, and paid the price. The ones that are left now are the strongest and most wounded, or the souls who care too much about them to leave behind.”

Mk took the offered hand and hopped down as well. “So, which are you?”

Wukong seemed stunned into momentary silence. He thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I suppose I'm the second kind. I can't leave until I know they're all ok.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wukong frowned as they finally made it to the temple. The entrance, clear when hed left, was covered by the same glowing, plant-like corruption the jungle had been covered with. “What on earth-?” He mumbled to himself. “Hey kid, first lesson! Look around and see if you can find some kinda big flower bulb!” He turned to see Mk, who was slowly being circled by little red lights.

The monkey bristled. Found us that fast, did you? He thought to himself.

“Don't panic or anything! Just wait and see what they are!” The ghost instructed the boy. The first of the lights hit the ground and turned into a small wooden creature with an axe. Wukong sighed in relief. Just sprouts.

Mk, who was being menaced with the axe, was significantly less relieved. He knew how to fight, in theory. But fighting was more Mei's thing, and she wasn't here yet.

“Uhhhh... little help?” He yelped, quickly sidestepping a clumsy swing.

“Just whack it real hard with your staff-thingy!” Wukong chirped unhelpfully.

“Can't you help me??” Another dodge out of the way.

“Kid, do I look armed?”

“It didn't seem to stop you from fighting that guy earlier!”

“Yeah but he wasn't armed either. Doesn't count! Besides, best I can do is hold them still or knock them over, now just smack the damn thing!”

Wukong hopped up onto a nearby stone pillar as a second glowing ball lighted on the ground near him and turned into yet another sprout.

It seemed to briefly consider going after Wukong, but decided against it, turning in favor of the easier target. “Mk! Watch your back, kid!”

Mk spun and cracked the new sprout in the head with the end of his staff, sending it flying. “Hey, you got it! That's the idea, kid!” Wukong cheered him on as it finally seemed to click that fighting the little spirits off meant he had to actually fight.

He managed the sprouts easily but when the third light finally joined the fight, it revealed itself to be much bigger. It wasn't too much tougher, but Mk found he actually had to gain distance from it and choose when to attack.

It kept trying to rush him, closing any distance he got. Wukong was actually a bit worried for the human for a moment as he was backed against the edge of the cliff path.

“Back OFF!” Mk ducked a sweeping arm, slamming his staff into the creature's side and letting off a pulse of gold light that shattered the creature. Unfortunately, the force of the blow also split his old, weathered staff.

Mk took a moment to realize it was over.

Meanwhile, Wukong hopped excitedly down from his perch and rushed over to the boy. “You did it! You did it kid! Ha! You really are a spirit guide!” The monkey chirped and chattered enthusiastically.

“What was that?” Mk looked warily down at his broken staff.

“There are deities in the land, bud! As long as you can tap into that energy, you can use them to purify the corruption, that's what happened! Go on, focus, and this time, try to aim it at that flower.” The monkey grinned.

He pointed at a bulb near the rot-covered entryway that opened once the last spirit was beaten.

“But... my staff broke.” Mk held up the two halves of the twisted wood stick. Some chipped crystal fell to the ground.

“You don't need it for something small like this! The staff is just a focus point; it makes life easier, but it's not necessary. But look, if it's really that important I have an extra one laying around somewhere inside the temple. You just have to get rid of that flower and we can go get it!” Wukong's eye twitched impatiently.

“Yeah yeah yeah, ok! I'm goin’! SHEESH!” Mk took a deep breath and approached the flower, focusing and trying to replicate what he did before. It took a few attempts, but he succeeded eventually, and the flower and the thorns and vines blocking the way forward lit up and disintegrated, almost like they were burnt away.

“Nice job, kid! Now come on, let's go find that staff!”

[rawmeknockout]

Hi! I can ask for MTMTE Megatron and MTMTE Prowl with a human female crush where they are obsessed with her and do everything to have her in their bed, following them in their holoform everywhere and the human has no idea that their holoform are they. Nsfw pleasee Thanks for reading 💓

Megatron

More of a creepy admirer type. Leaves long poems in your habsuite, gifts on your work desk, somehow finds a reason to stand close to you. Complaining to Ultra Magnus doesn’t help. The security feed is wiped often, since Rodimus complains that it slows the internal system down to keep video files on memory. He does promise he’ll keep an optic on your habsuite, but that doesn’t deter your admirer’s affections. If anything, he applauds you being so forthright with your feelings. It makes him like you more that you stand up for yourself, as useless as it is being surrounded by people you can’t force to follow your whims. Megatron is, of course, there to comfort you first when you complain about having a creep trying to grab your attention. While he would prefer you take his advances better, he doesn't mind if you take them 'wrong' as long as he can get close to you. As you two get closer, he'll inevitably make moves on you. Much more subtle than his detailed letters. You're looking at spending the rest of your life in space, do you really want to spend it alone? He's certainly charming and has been unattached for so long, Megatron has a lot of love to offer after being available for millions of years. So much of what he does is dashing and romantic, endearing if you forget about his past. Eventually he'll have you so swept up with his heartfelt gestures that you'll forget all about the reason you became so close in the first place. It's okay if he never tells you, after all this is true love and he's done plenty of bad already. If you needed to be scared into his arms, it's justified as long as you end up right where you belong.

Prowl

He's demanding of your time and attention when he realizes how he feels, and Prowl isn't above scaring away potential suitors if he must. This is just like any other situation and he'll approach it with a carefully thought out plan. Not to win your love, although he would enjoy it all the more if you returned his affection. If he can only get you alone and all to himself, Prowl will take it. That's really the most practical plan, after all love can be finicky and, boy, does he know that. No your love could be changed by one wrong action, but getting you isolated will at least keep you from wandering away from his side. He's more likely to give you extra work that you absolutely need his approval and close monitoring for, preventing you from working next to other mechs or people because it's a rather sensitive issue (at least he says). In fact, now you know too much. You should really travel by his side at all times. He's second-in-command, after all, you'll be totally safe with him. Oh, but don't talk to the mechs meant to guard and assist him. They're just grunts and can't be getting information, even an unintentional slip up, from you. Even after the war, Prowl doesn't really approve of you living on Earth away from him. Like he said, you knew and still potentially know valuable information. About the Autobots, about him, and you would do more good on Cybertron. Decepticons are still wandering about, you know, and they could come after you if you live alone. But by this time Prowl has so enmeshed himself in your life, you don't really want him to leave do you? Even if you aren't technically romantic partners, Prowl doesn't mind. He has you by his side and that's really all his spark was after. It has finally stopped bothering him enough that he can go back to focusing fully on his work, knowing you'll be going home with him. You really have no other choice.

[distopea]

𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍

NAME : Miho

PRONOUNS : I never cared! I mostly go she/her, or she/they, I don't take offense if you call me differently

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : I prefer discord all the way down! I don't think tumblr is really convenient for chatting and it's easier for me to understand that someone is actually messaging me there. Plus imagine if I ever get fucking shadow banned again gfsydugf

MOST ACTIVE MUSE : The roster ✨Honestly, I can't lie that my mafia muses are often the most active, it comes and goes depending on the motivation of the day! A living nightmare sometimes fdsyg

EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS : I started RPing in different platforms when I was 12 years old and today I'm 27. Basically that's my most regular hobby so I'm quite used to how it works and I love it profoundly!

BEST EXPERIENCE : Here! It's been three years I'm active on this blog and I truly found my purpose in the RP world. I can have multiple muses and different plots, I have awesome interactions and I'm no more fandom dependent. It's truly the best! (even more when you find your writing soulmates, and you can even develop a live friendship and such, only a wonderful bonus 🙏)

RP PET PEEVE : I have several, but I will voice those I have mostly written in my rules. I really don't like drama in any form, so basically when I see a "drama" tag and names or screenshots dropped, I just block and move on, I don't need that toxicity so it's a forever bye bye on my side. The second main RP pet peeve would be spamming thirst posts and NSFW icons all day long until it clogs the dash, and basically there's nothing left for actual plotting except a perpetual "thirst" for one fictional blorbo. The finale one is constant threads drops with no notification ever. I do drop threads, but I noticed that a few blogs looking for a daily dose of serotonine are just constantly dropping whatever you start with them and it's frustrating on my hand because I tend to be slow so...

PLOTS OR MEMES : Plot is very VERY important for me. I can get the satisfaction of starting something quick and all, but my interest and focus will vanish when there's no plot at all and no story to follow. It's a part of my guilty pleasure, to gush with someone in DM and imagine scenario regarding the next steps! Plots all the way down, my longer and oldest threads are all plotted and I LOVE them.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : I'm adaptable, but truly, I know I don't really enjoy short threads. I need material to voice my muses and they have quite a lot to say, a bit of details and context... Otherwise it's getting complicated to push the story forward (for plotted threads at least). I would say medium-long is the perfect length for me!

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSES : Nope, that's for sure, but I have always used a bit of my own persona to build things, like an inch of myself to know how a muse would react to something and all. But basically, I'm a potato compared to my whole roster and I'm glad I have nothing alike with them. Imagine being like a Vex or a Kaizen gsdygf

[bangtide]

any blogs you recommend for a yoonminnie? my tl is deprived and soulless 😭

firstly, it's your dashboard or dash, not tl! i've rbed some posts about using tumblr & will hunt down more, please check them out. i'll discuss army tumblr culture below the read more link.

a tour through my following list yields that nearly all the bangtan blogs i follow are inactive, lmfao. but for basic bangtan content, these were the go-to:

bts-trans (still active, just slow) bangtan (ia) audiorkive (active, but only for new releases) btstwtarchive (active) allforbts (ia, but posted all updates)

as for people and content, here's what i'd have to say about army tumblr culture vs twitter (esp my community there):

the big blogs are mostly gif makers (knjspjm & sugajimin are the two i follow who come to mind). gifs are rlly popular & reposting a gif is offensive.

the same for any sort of content. always give credit to original creators, translators, ect. it's also general practice to link to the source if sharing bangtan content, such as clips.

fic writers, rpf artists, ect are rarer than they used to be due to the porn ban in 2018 when a lot of users left.

but even when you do find them, rpf-heavy text posts (aus, fics, rpf-y fawning) have become unusual outside particular niches. nsfw even more so. most authors just post fics to ao3, and artists focus on art, so on so forth. this is the biggest difference from twitter.

that said, it shouldn't stop you. i'm of the opinion rpf-ing needs to be more visible to those who want to see it.

rpf on tumblr is separated from the real life boys. not perfectly, but more so than on twitter. you should consider tagging rpf-heavy posts & fics as rpf or an equivalent if you post abt it. (my tag for it is "fic-ish")

tumblr blogs are often just people vibing & engaging in what they feel like. even if they're dedicated to one fandom, other posts will show up (jokes, politics, discussion, art, other fandoms, ect), and usually people mix fandoms on one blog.

a lot of bangtan blogs on tumblr are multi group or cover k-pop as a whole.

most of them are sideblogs, meaning op has a main blog that they interact through (like me). this doesn't mean they're more active there.

fanwars between different group fandoms are regarded as incredibly stupid & if you engage in them you'll look very stupid. they don't really happen here anymore.

in general, if you start beef with another blog instead of just blocking and moving on you'll look stupid. fanwars of all kinds are not well-tolerated on tumblr.

solos are more common on tumblr & they're not evil. starting beef with them is also considered dumb. block & move on if you're bothered.

that doesn't mean you can't criticize what you see, but vociferously decrying specific people or subcommunities with no nuance is a bad look.

criticism or expressing negative/neutral opinions of bangtan, hybe/bh, their music, content, and even individual members is normal. some people use it as an excuse to pump their hateboner or go on tirades, but again, if it bothers you block & move on.

that said, reblogging with your addition if you have something insightful to respond with is normal. so is ranting about what you saw without naming anyone.

tumblr is in general a very anti-drama climate compared to twitter. people here truly do their own thing. there are exceptions, of course, but overall you live and let live.

tumblr is also EXTREMELY anti-clout compared to twitter. it's totally fine to talk about how much you like a blog, make a post looking for people to follow or mutuals, ect. making your own post promoting your stuff is even fine as long as it's earnestly about sharing your work. but most people hide their follower counts & don't fixate on visibility. going viral is considered a curse.

lastly, publicizing personal information as a prerequisite for interacting with someone is weird here. you don't need to have your age visible to everyone to follow nsfw blogs without being blocked, for example. minors may be sbed or blocked if op wants to, but not having a public age is normal. anonymity is valued.

@yoonminist is the og yoonmin blog here (another is sugainmycoffee). be warned if you follow me from twt, she's a vers fan. that sort of content rarely shows up on her page, though. using that to segue into another subject i wanted to cover briefly,

top vs bottom culture & discourse on tumblr is not as much of a thing as it is on twitter. this is in large part due to the lack of nsfw + tumblr's overall anti-drama culture, but a lot of rps blogs here genuinely don't care either way. that lends its own issues--namely, the same old underlying sentiments that caring about top/bottom content in a meaningful way is silly, bad, ect & ignorance of how viciously certain communities have been bullied over it + favoring certain flawed but popular narratives. it's similar to twitter but less skewed in favor of one over the other, and vers fans usually do sincerely like it all (as opposed to labeling themselves vers but only engaging with one trope consistently).

crash course concluded.