#i’ve also been seeing a lot of that little purple guy

[hvly]

it is a sign, start playing rn so i can come steal your mats

what’s a mat 🧍🏾‍♀️? is that a currency in the game?

[creatingblackcharacters]

“The Ambiguously Brown Character™”- The Attachment to Eurocentric Beauty Standards

“maybe im petty but i wish people knew how to draw like different nose shapes. Sometimes I’ll see a character I like but im like that is not what their nose would look like.” @the-eldritch-it-gay

You’ve seen them before. The one character that has brown skin… And everything else about them is… an enigma. They’re not supposed to be white! You know that much… right? You can see what the designated white characters look like, so at least it’s not that. You could claim them as Black, if you want, and sometimes creators even demand that this character is Black. Depending on the quality, you’re either like “no, what the fuck is this” or you’re like “okay they’re cool, we’ll take them”. Representation is important. But… There’s a pit in your stomach that wonders… Are they really? Are they really supposed to be Black, is this really representation, or did the creators just toss a brown person in so all the Brown™ people could “have something”, so that they would look like they cared about “diversity” on their art resume?

Examples

Theseus, in my opinion, looks like a white man with a tan. Dionysus looks a little better with the similar skin tone, due to his purple hair coloration. Apparently people do think that at least Dionysus is a man of color. What’s interesting about both of these characters, is that they’re only about two desaturated browns lighter than Patroclus, a character in the game that we’re supposed to believe is Black (whom, in my opinion, also looks like a brown bucket tool character. I’m still claiming him, he’s my guy. But his design should have been more explicitly Black). Theseus and Patroclus are the two darkest-skinned dead humans in the first game. So… what was I supposed to think about these two? Was I supposed to think they are really dark white people, due to the thin textures of their hair? Are they men of color? Are Theseus and Patroclus supposed to be ashy because they’re dead, is Dionysus ashy because he’s dehydrated from wine? Why don’t the white dead people look off color? Hades was entirely too striking a game in use of color for the browns to look like… this.

Noe and Hibana are interesting. It was complete coincidence, the purple hair and eyes thing btw. Hibana is interesting because Ogun is an unambiguously Black character in Fire Force, and there are at least three other unambiguously Black characters in Soul Eater as well. So we know the mangaka knows how to draw Black people in their style! So… was this on purpose? Is this another of those ‘tanned anime girls with titties’ meant for shounen fan service? I’ve claimed Noe (Case Study of Vanitas) because Black French people exist and France has stolen so much from us already, but it is never actually specified what Noe is. He’s just the One Singular Brown Guy in this show, with regular, untextured anime hair. Are there more brown people in the manga? Is this explained? Because we know who is supposed to be white! If anyone else wants to claim Noe, they absolutely can, because we have no idea what he’s supposed to be. Hot Chocolate thinks he’s Indian, and I’m not going to argue that because… who knows! He very well could be!

My very first lesson addressed this, albeit lightly! There’s a reason that I said that if you gained nothing else from me, that’s what I want you to walk away with. Now that I’m on stronger footing with this blog, I can really get into the nitty gritty of what that really means.

Obligatory disclaimer: we are not a monolith!* As of 2015, it has been researched that African populations have the highest genetic variation on Earth*, with a lot of that genetic diversity in sub-Saharan Africa alone. This means that YES, there very well can and will be Black people with naturally thinner textures of hair, blonde, light brown, and red hair, straight, narrow noses, monotone lips, and lighter skin that comes more often with white people. There are enough genetic combinations within African peoples and of the African diaspora that I’m sure there are plenty of people that look the way people seem to want Black people in art to look, if those genes so express within them.

*as a scientist, I will say: while these papers seem fairly legit and I looked at many related articles and their sources, take Nature with a grain of salt. Though their vetting process has become much better, you can and should always do further reading on your own!

Here’s the thing: the possibility is not the issue here!

The first issue: I don’t have to teach anyone how to draw those features on Black people! It is evident, from the professional and fan art I’ve seen, y’all already know how to draw the features deemed highly by Eurocentric beauty standards. Those features are excessively focused on and promoted as part of “good art”.

The second issue here is that the average artist drawing a poorly done Black person is not considering things like genetic diversity when they draw them (and if they are, it’s usually as an excuse post-confrontation. Yes, I have seen it.) These creators are not designing these characters with the intent of them being Black with those features, they are designing “Black” people with features that they deem most aesthetic and are most comfortable with drawing.

And why do they deem those features most aesthetic? We’ve circled back to the point of this lesson!

Eurocentric Beauty Standards

Definition: beauty standards as defined through a white, western cultural lens, including but not limited to: straight, blonde hair, light eyes, pale skin, high cheekbones, narrow noses, thinness. It’s a way that white western people want other white western people to look to be considered classically attractive… and then enforced that on everyone else.

It affects people of color worldwide. Anyone that has ever had to deal with European colonization or imperialism has to deal with the interjection of Eurocentric beauty standards.

Examples

-Black women, standing at the intersection of Blackness and womanhood, especially deal with the constant pressure of Eurocentric beauty standards, being consistently told to hate ourselves due to our own ethnic features. It’s incredibly damaging to your self-esteem growing up; my mom told me that until I went natural at 17, I was determined to look ‘like a white girl’ because I thought it would make me beautiful, and it hurt her. And as for me, it was a stunning realization that at 17 that I had never really seen my own natural curl pattern before. My hair was in ponytails and such as a child, but as a teenager, growing into my identity, I had always wanted straight hair. I was in love with my coily texture, I couldn’t believe that I’d never seen it. An entire part of my own body, gone unknown, because I wanted to fit a beauty standard I would never reach.

-Kenneth and Mamie Clark: The “Doll” Studies: Black children- age 3-7 were shown white and Black doll babies, and were asked a series of ‘positive’ and ‘negative’ identification questions. Even by that young an age, most of the Black children associated things like beauty, kindness, and positivity… with the white dolls.

-“The Golden Ratio”: a survey was done in Britain (oh boy, here we go) to determine what people felt was the ‘most beautiful’ face, and apparently it all came down to “symmetry”. “International blueprints of beauty” they claimed, were applied, as humans “naturally seek symmetry”. In 2015, according to ye olde Daily Mail, this was the most beautiful woman. You'll never guess:

(It’s not even her natural hair color!)

-Another “research study” using E-FIT (Electronic Facial Identification Technique -- a facial recognition software used to create criminal profiles based on eyewitness descriptions; no WAY that THAT could get problematic!!) to determine what 100 people thought was the “most archetypal face of beauty”.

They came up with a figure similar to Kendall Jenner as the female option.

(Guys, we’re never getting out of here at this rate.)

-We’ve spoken about discrimination against Black hair before, and how natural hairstyles will be deemed less professional or appropriate for school, regardless of the brilliant mind that sits underneath it, and even the history of Black women having to cover their hair so as to “not steal the desire of white men” and ruin the status of white women.

Appropriation:

I try to have nuance on the Kardashians, but I have never liked Kylie, and it’s not because she’s not allowed to do what she wants with her body. I watched the world claim that she was so beautiful, that her kits were why her lips looked “so good”. Everyone wanted to have “full, plump lips” like the ones Kylie BOUGHT. But Black women’s full lips have been treated horrifically since racism was invented. In 2016 I watched racists dogpile and mock Ugandan model Aamito Lagum for her naturally full lips in her MAC campaign, after saying in just 2015 that Kylie’s lips were “top fashion and everyone wants them”. And she lied (not that we didn’t all know that)! She appropriated a look, and she lied about it to move product. And people who had no right to forgive her did so, and everyone moved on to make her a billionaire. Because full lips looked good… as long as they weren’t on a Black woman. I can’t even have my own lips, but she was rewarded with an industry for appropriation. No, I’m not getting over that.

I could go on, but I won’t. So what are some ways to address the existence of Eurocentric beauty standards potentially biasing our creation?

First thing: LET’S TRASH THE IDEA THAT BROWN SKIN AUTOMATICALLY MEANS BLACK.

Black people are not stupid, and we do have expectations. Splashing brown paint on your otherwise white character does not mean I’ll automatically think they’re Black. I’m going to look. When I see brown people in real life, I can usually tell when they don’t look like me. I don’t look at a South Asian similar to or darker than my shade and say “they’re Black”. Blackness is not just skin color, it’s an entire identity and sociological construct. Yes, you can tell us apart.

Acknowledge when you’re holding a bias:

For example: “Tall, dark, and handsome.” What did you picture? You must understand that different people had different ideas of what this meant, versus who it was actually meant to be. Because on its surface, that description includes tall Black men with dark brown eyes and dark hair! We’ve talked about this in lesson 3! Whoever came up with this phrase didn’t mean skin though, they meant hair and eyes- they meant white brunettes. Even in this, it was only meant to include whiteness. And we were all supposed to assume that, be damned anything else.

Part of that is knowing what things do and don’t fall under the category. They were listed off earlier: straight and wavy hair, blonde hair, colorful eyes, thin noses, high cheekbones, double eyelid with round eyes that “show youth and innocence”. People have been going the “aquiline nose” route lately to claim more diversity in nose shape but like… even that isn’t always going to be the case. Every Black person is not going to have an aquiline nose. It is not the “middle ground” of diversity. Draw us with some round noses. We look fine.

Often ignored (in depictions of Black people): afro/coily hair and natural styles, large, round noses, full faces, brown eyes, full figures that aren’t oversexualized, body fat. One of the characters from Craig of the Creek that makes me so happy is Nicole, Craig’s mother. When I look at her design, I see my own mother. I see a Black woman that… actually looks like Black mothers I know. It made me happy and comfortable.

White folk, you even do it to yourselves! I mentioned to a friend once that a good chunk of stories in our fandom with the blonde/brunette white character dynamic read like an Aryan fantasy: the blonde character will be treated like a god on high, the most beautiful of humanity, and then you’ll get to the brunette and it’s “my meek, mousy brown hair, my dull, brown eyes like dirt, and my tanned skin with freckles; no one would ever notice someone plain, nerdy, and unimportant like me until him” lmao like excuse me? Author, you okay there pal? Do you need a hug, lmao? I can’t take it seriously anymore. If y'all are being this mean to each OTHER about not hitting Eurocentric beauty standards, y'all are certainly not being nice or respectful about people of color- who never can- in your content! (and no, exoticizing Blackness is not respectful.) You should look out for how often this happens, and catch yourself when you’re doing it.

Creating with Intent (and the lack thereof!)

(This is so important I made the header larger)

You have to actually consider and reference REAL Black people when you’re drawing Black people. That seems like such an obvious thing, and yet it must not be, because these sorts of arts/the techniques used in them still happen.

For example:

credit to my friend @devilatelier; I asked for the worst Black art ever and he heeded the call!

I abhor art like this, and art that does varying versions of this. To the pit of my soul, hatred. I will not share your work if I catch even a whiff of it. Why? Because people know that this isn’t what we look like! If you get on the computer and type in “Black man with short hair”, option A is not even remotely on the first page. You’ll get nonblack men that show up, thanks to Google’s algorithm (another conversation), but the Black men don’t look like A. If you get on the computer and type “Black man with long hair”, you’ll even get Black men with all textures and styles of hair, including straight! And they still don’t look like B. Go ahead, I’ll pause- go type it in and see what you get. Have you ever seen a Black person that looks like these images? Be honest with yourself. Why do you let them slide, if you haven’t?

Why This Matters

So it’s not about the actual Black people in their lives that they’ve seen, that makes artists draw characters like this, nor a dedication to accuracy. Because if you were looking at us at all, you wouldn’t draw this. And yet, people draw it, and post it proudly. So there must not be any shame behind it, or they at least are comfortable enough with their target audience to think it’s presentable! That begs the question- who is your target audience, and do you include Black people in it?

It’s how people like Jen Zee can have a successful career at Supergiant despite drawing dark skinned people the way she does. It’s because studios recognize when their target audiences are not perturbed by, and therefore will still buy, their product. If poorly drawn Black people does not perturb audiences enough to affect the almighty dollar- or, in fanart situations, the value of popularity- then there’s no motivation to stop doing it! Who cares about the value and the demeaning of Black fans, right?

Think about it like this. You remember how everyone bullied the Sonic studio and they scrapped their entire reel? People do not get that much up in arms in solidarity about the antiblack treatment and depiction of Black characters. It’s how you end up with Wyll Ravengard on the drop of BG3. Because Larian could have stood on business, had some integrity, and said “this is a character we are going to develop, because there will be fans that look like Wyll, and deserve to receive our best efforts at inclusion.”

But instead, Larian said “this is what our majority fanbase wants, and apparently it is not a well-developed Black character” and released that game as it was. To rousing success. That was a choice. The antiblackness of both the fans and the studio, via their lack of concern about Black gamers, was involved in making that decision. We have to let go of the idea that antiblack racism is incidental, and not a part of the process- and that includes in character design.

I cannot tell you how much it shrivels my heart inside when I see a “Black” character with wavy hair. One, because I know the artist’s first thought was not to have a Black character with wavy hair, but because they draw white people with that hair and thought it was transferrable. Two, because if you wanted the aesthetic of hair down to the back… Locs could have worked! The same shape would be there! You can style locs in any way, and it would be fine! Even if you wanted them to have thinner hair, fine, but… I can see where the intent (and the lack thereof) is. We can see when you aren’t even trying for us!

I asked Angel how he felt about creating the “white man with the brown bucket” images, curious about how he felt given that he is more than capable of drawing Black people. His response was noteworthy, and consistent with my hypothesis:

“Thinking about it, these two drawings have been the most difficult thing I’ve had to draw, period. And it’s the first time I’ve actually felt nauseous during the drawing process from start to finish. I constantly felt like I was fighting off the part of myself that knew better, telling me that this is wrong. It felt like a betrayal, knowing what Black people actually look like and still choosing to be disrespectful. Especially because I worked on the first two and immersed myself in references and also Black youtubers, researching Black hairstyles. It felt like a betrayal to all of that to call these two (deliberately poorly drawn) characters Black, because they’re not. None of the Black people I found during my research (both photo references and videos) looked like these. at all. It felt cheap, it felt lazy. Creatively lazy in the way that you just take a white person and paint-bucket them brown and call it a day. In the way it makes you feel no pull to change what you do, or learn something new. Kinda like a thought terminating cliche. Unlike the first two, I used no references for them, but I mostly based them off of actual designs I’ve seen in fandoms, both fanmade and not.”

Conclusion

So what I want us to consider for now is: if we know that’s not what Black people look like, but so many people are willing to do and/or accept it without any mental dissonance… how much do they care? Why is this allowed to ‘pass’, if we recognize that it is not accurate, unless we think what we are being presented with is acceptable? Or at least, not worth fighting over? Why not? Why do you not think that this Black character deserves to be unambiguously Black? And why does that ‘better’ way to exist always come back to whiteness?

We’re going to get into this, as well as more into the other, more overt and equally harmful manifestation of these beliefs in the next lesson on Whitewashing! But I want you to simmer on this part, first.

When you draw a character that you want to be Black, not only should you keep in mind your intent of how you’re going to draw them, but it also means putting in the work to make sure you’re doing so. You do not put pen to paper and “accidentally” draw a white man lol, it came from somewhere- let’s shatter that connection that views white features as superior, as 'ideal for attention grabbing', so we can create better. Because remember, it is the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

[milla-frenchy]

Morning waves

3k7 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Frankie Morales | ao3

Summary: you meet two men who are on a road trip. You like the same things: the ocean, surfing, dancing and having fun

Warnings: 18+ mdni. threesome MFM, praise kink, fingering, public sex, oral (m/f), piv, dp, anal play, rimming, anal, spit as lube, creampies

No age specified

a/n: this is a contribution to Jamie’s ocean challenge @mermaidgirl30 thank you for this great idea 👌🙏

I've wanted to write Frankie for a while, and even more so after reading “Down the hall” @frannyzooey 😍😍 and this challenge was perfect to introduce him as my new Pedro boy. 

Dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏

@aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing, for the ideas, and for holding my hand with this one, as always 💕 🫶

Masterlist

*********

The first rays of sunshine were already warming you through the windows of your car. You were driving towards the ocean, ready to enjoy its waves. Every morning, very early, you were going to your favorite surf spot. This morning like the others, a few other surfers were also present. Between each set, you were all waiting on your boards, straddling them, letting yourself be carried away by their calm movement.

“You’re impressive”, you heard behind you.

You turned around, and met the most beautiful, sweetest brown eyes you had ever seen.

“Frankie, another set is coming.” You didn't look at the man who had spoken, immediately turning your gaze towards the horizon and new waves that were forming. You surfed that set and a few more. 

When you were returning to the beach, you saw the man called Frankie taking off his wetsuit. The man next to him was doing the same. They smiled at you, when you approached them.

“Hi! I’m Joel, and this is Frankie.”

“Hi, guys!”

“Nice waves!” Frankie’s smile was really sweet. And cute.

“Yeah! Where are you from? I’ve never seen you before. And with that drawl…Texas, I guess?”

Joel laughed and replied “yeah, Austin. We’re on a road trip. Coming from northern California, heading to the south. Are you from here?”

“Yeah, I live here. I’m on holidays, enjoying the ocean.”

“That’s great! Seems like heaven here. Do you know any cool bars? We’ve just arrived, and we’re gonna stay for some time in this place,” Frankie asked. 

“Yeah, there’s ‘The lagoon’. I'm gonna be there around 6 p.m., if you wanna join me?

“Sure! We’ll see you there.”

You spent the evening with them at the bar. Frankie and Joel had been friends for a long time, they told you about their trip, their lives in Texas. Joel worked as a contractor and Frankie was an ex-military, doing jobs with Joel from time to time. They were nice, cool, and made you laugh a lot. They were not flirty nor pushy, and you felt good and safe in their company.

Joel had a certain self-confidence, and was more direct than Frankie. His brown hair was shorter. His smile was devastating. Every evening, when the three of you met again, he wore jeans and a blue or black T-shirt which accentuated his torso and biceps.

Frankie was a little shyer. His slightly longer hair called for your fingers with its brown curls. His eyes and smile were incredibly soft. He often wore lighter pants, gray or brown t-shirts. A cap that he only took off to surf. Both men were beautiful.

You spent the next evenings with them, dancing and drinking shots at The lagoon. Every day you looked forward to seeing them at the beach, then at the bar. They were doing pretty well at surfing, asking for some advice from time to time, and making great progress. 

One night, the three of you were on the beach, hoping to catch some Northern Lights. And you weren't disappointed. The sky was colored with pink, purple and blue lights, while you were lying next to each other on the sand, a little closer than usual. And when Frankie kissed your forehead and Joel your cheek as you were lying on the blanket between them, you felt heat in your core. You saw them differently for the first time.

The Lagoon was crowded. You sat on a stool at the counter, sipping your cocktail until you saw Joel enter the bar. He smiled at you and you wondered how many hearts he had broken. He was so hot. He joined you, hugged you and said “hey, sweetheart” with his Texan drawl.

“Isn’t Frankie here?” you asked him.

“He should be soon. He went to get a tattoo.”

“What, now?”

“Yeah”, he laughed.

You two danced, his hands settled on your hips. Slightly more intimate than usual. He smelled good. He smelled like the sun and the beach. He ran his hand over your back, which your summer dress barely covered. And when your eyes met, something was different.

You walked back to the counter, and he was smiling as he was drinking his beer. His eyes were fixed on you.

“What?” You asked him, smiling too.

“You’re damn pretty, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened slightly, hearing him. It was the first time he told you something like that. So directly. Even though last night, on the beach, the atmosphere was different between the three of you. Even though two minutes ago, when you were dancing, you felt the warmth of his fingers on your skin, and your hair stood up from the desire for him.

He waited for a few seconds, checking on your reaction. Took another sip. When he saw you smile at him again, he leaned towards you, his nose brushing against your cheek, his hand resting on your waist. You felt goosebumps again. Some electricity between you. And you saw in his eyes that he was feeling the same thing.

“Wanna have some fun tonight?”

You felt heat reach your cheeks but you nodded and murmured, “yeah.”

“Yeah?”

He got up, stood between your knees while you were still sitting on the stool, and leaned forward to kiss you. You felt your heart rate speed up. He placed his hands on your bare thighs and caressed them, slightly pushing the fabric up, as you ran your fingers over his biceps. Then he slipped one hand between your legs. Slowly. Stroking your inner thigh. You whimpered when his fingers brushed against your pussy through your panties.

“You want more, darlin’?”

“Yes, Joel...”

“You gonna let me finger you in here?” he asked, his cheek against yours. His soft beard against your skin.

“Yeah…”

He slid your panties to the side, and his fingers brushed against your folds, making you moan into his neck. He looked up and said, “hey, Frankie.”

You felt shy and tightened your thighs against his legs. He kissed your cheek then said in your ear, on the side where Frankie was standing to make sure he would hear “I’m sure he’d love to touch you too,” before looking back at you. His fingers were still brushing against your delicate skin, and you really wanted to feel him more. To calm the fire, burning you from the inside.

You looked at him, then turned your head towards Frankie. His stare was still soft, but not only. You saw the desire for you in his eyes. 

“Do it Frankie”, you told him. At that moment you didn't care about anything else anymore. The crowded bar. The people who could see you, and wonder what the three of you were doing. Or knowing too well what you were doing.

“Are you wet, baby?” Frankie asked.

You nodded and whined, the second Joel pushed a finger in your core.

“She’s soaked”, Joel said, nuzzling your neck, and you bit your lip. 

“Damn, baby,” Frankie moved closer, the two men now standing in front of you. When one of Frankie's fingers joined Joel's in your pussy, your fists clenched their shirts. One of them stroked your clit with his thumb, but you didn’t know who. It turned you on even more. Their fingers slid into your wetness, pumping your pussy at the same rhythm, and you tried to hold back your moans even if it was getting more and more difficult.

“You're gonna come for us?” You shook your head “I…I can’t. Not here. Too many people.”

“Forget about them. Soak our fingers, baby. And then we’ll have some time together in our van if you want.”

“Yeah…Yes. Fuck.” You felt their eyes fixed on you. They were close to you, so close, protecting you from the eyes of others. Your pussy tightened around their fingers and you were trembling more and more. You felt another thumb near your clit that soon replaced the other one, and whimpered. Your pussy was trickling, and they could have pushed more fingers in easily.

“Come for us, sweetheart. Right here, in this bar. God, you’re fucking hot.”

You bit your lip as you came on their fingers, your pussy clenching desperately on them. They kept fingering you through it, until one of them put your panties back in place, then your dress. You watched Joel lick his finger with a look full of desire, and your arousal increased even more. 

“Take me to your van, please. I need…I need more”, you breathed.

Frankie kissed your cheek, and Joel placed his hand on the small of your back as you got off the stool. Your legs were shaky and he held your elbow until you reached the parking lot then the van. Frankie offered to come to the back with him, on the mattress that they had already set up for the night, without knowing how it would end. You both lay there as Joel started driving. You didn't know where and right now you didn't care. Frankie was already leaning towards you, kissing your cheek then your neck. Your fingers ran through his soft curls. His hand rested against your face at first, then he brought it to his mouth. Licking the finger you had come on, just as Joel had done a few minutes before.

“Damn baby, you taste so good. Can I go down on you?”

“What, now?”

“Yeah. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”

“Fuck…Ok.”

The van was swaying on a bumpy road when Frankie knelt between your thighs, and took off your dress, then your panties. He brought them to his nose and breathed them slowly, keeping his eyes on you, and the vision was intoxicating. The way they wanted you was driving you crazy. He turned the front of his cap backwards, and lay down between your thighs. He growled as he licked a long stripe between your folds.

“Jesus Christ, Frankie…you lucky bastard”, Joel said.

Frankie was already lapping at your pussy, and he was good at it. So good that you already felt a new orgasm building, while he was drinking all your wetness, his thumb twirling on your clit.

“Frankie…oh my god”, you whimpered. 

You heard Joel unzip his jeans and pull out his cock. “You’re so hot that Joel can’t help fisting his cock while driving, baby” he said, before licking your folds again.

“Fuck, of course I do. All these moans are killing me. How does she taste? Tell me.”

“The sweetest taste, man...” He grabbed your thighs to pull you closer to him. As if he wanted more, always more, and you couldn’t stop moaning.

“Jesus...” Joel growled, as you heard the sound of his wrist fucking his cock.

Your fingers were lost in Frankie’s brown curls, while his nose rubbed perfectly against your clit and his tongue roamed your pussy.

“Frankie…”

“Yeah baby, tell me.”

“Your fingers, please, need your fingers.”

“Like this, mmm?” he asked, pushing two fingers in you.

“Yeah…your tongue too, please.”

His lips surrounded your clit, sucking gently, before giving way to his tongue. His wrist gently pumped your pussy and you felt your wetness running down your folds to the sheets.

“Fuck, baby…I can hear the pretty little noises of your pussy from here, you’re so fucking wet.”

“I know, I know, oh my god, Frankie!” You squeezed his head between your thighs when you came, letting him lick your folds until you stopped shaking. The van's engine was off, but you didn't realize you had stopped. You heard the sound of the waves as Joel opened his door to join you in the back.

“Fuck sweetheart, look at that… he ate you good, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah…fuck”, you breathed out.

Frankie shifted aside slightly and Joel lay down, his shoulders between your knees. He caressed your folded thighs, and delicately licked your wetness, being careful not to stimulate your overly sensitive clit.

“You taste so fuckin’ good, darlin’. Lemme eat ya just a little, ok? “ he said, moving his hand up your sweaty stomach, to a breast that he grabbed. Frankie kissed your thigh, while he caressed your other breast. You moaned again, your stomach rising rapidly with your heavy breathing. Joel’s beard rubbed against your inner thighs. He ran his tongue flat through your folds, sometimes down to your tight ring. Before going back up again, tirelessly. You imagined their hard cocks and you couldn’t wait to feel them in you. 

“You want us to fuck you, baby?”

You nodded, “yeah, need your cocks.”

“Damn, could do this for hours. How do you want us?”

“I huh… I don’t know, I’ve never done that…with two men.”

They looked at each other then Frankie said “we’re gonna undress and we’ll see how it goes, ok?”

“Yeah, seems good.”

“If you’re not comfortable with something, you tell us right away, ok? We’re all here to have fun. Ok, darlin’?”

You nodded and smiled. They were so considerate and careful with you. You helped Frankie unzip his pants and take them off, then his boxers, and held your breath when you saw his cock. “We’ll go slow,  baby”. “We?” You widened your eyes and turned to Joel, already in his underwear, taking off his t-shirt. “Oh fuck”, you said when you saw his bulge. You brushed his crotch and he spread his thighs wider. He was so hard, and so big too. You whispered “fuck...” again, before getting on all fours, facing him. You took his cock out of his boxers, the precum glistening on his red tip. You spread it with your thumb and jerked his cock, while Frankie was caressing the roundness of your buttocks, kneeling behind you. You licked the tip, letting Joel’s taste run down your mouth and then your throat.

“You’re ready for me, baby?”

“Yes, Frankie.”

He nestled his cock at your entrance, pushing in. You whined when he thrust deeper, gripping your hips as leverage. And for a minute you didn’t move, Joel’s cock in your hand, catching your breath. Frankie kept thrusting until he bottomed out. Pushing on your walls.  And you started to suck Joel’s cock, his hands on your head, but letting you lead the pace.

You moved your hips back and forth, fucking yourself on Frankie’s cock. He wasn’t moving, letting you lead too. Your mouth on Joel’s shaft followed the movement of your hips at the same pace as you impaled yourself on the cock, piercing you.

“Fuck, fuck. Sucking me so good.”

“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight. So good for my cock.” You loved how they were praising you. Frankie’s hands roamed your body. Your back, your waist, your hips, as your thumbs caressed Joel’s balls, your head still bobbing on his shaft, your lips gradually getting used to his size.

You pulled him out of your mouth and licked his tip, looking at him you asked, “Frankie, will you let Joel fuck me?”

“Of course, anything you want.”

You lay on your back, inviting Joel to come between your thighs. He lay there, his cock in his hand, and pushed in. Frankie lay against you, and turned your face towards him. Kissing you as Joel thrust in.

“Damn, sweetheart…Frankie was right, you’re so tight. Squeezing me so hard, fuck…”

You whined in Frankie’s mouth while Joel was kissing your neck. He thrust in slowly before pulling back. Repeating the movement endlessly, while your legs spread wide gave him full access. Frankie leaned down and took one of your breasts in his hand, sucking on the nipple, his lips wrapped around it. Joel gave you a forehead kiss, his thick cock buried in you. Sometimes Frankie would slide his hand up to your clit, rubbing it lightly, and your pussy would contract on Joel's cock, making him groan. Their mouths and hands were brushing your skin constantly. 

They took turns between your legs, drawing two new orgasms out of you. Seeing them, feeling them fucking you, one then the other, was turning you on desperately and your pussy was weeping. When one of them was kissing you, searching for your tongue with his, the other was kissing your neck, your cheek, sucking a nipple. You loved feeling their mouths on you at the same time.

They fucked you, one then the other, and they never seemed to get tired, filling your pussy perfectly each in their own way. Until you wanted more, and needed more.

“More? Tell us what you want, sweetheart.”

“I want you both…at the same time.”

“Oh, baby. You want our two cocks filling your two holes?” said Frankie, his cock buried in your cunt.

“Yeah, I’d like to try…”

“It’s ok, baby. We’ll go slow.”

“Yeah. Frankie?”

Frankie nodded, pulling out of you. 

“Get on me, sweetheart.”

Joel lay on his back and you straddled him, grabbing his cock and sinking on it. You brushed his cheek and kissed him, before pressing your chest against his, giving free access to Frankie.

He spread your buttocks, your ring was glistening by the wetness that had been flowing there continuously. He passed his thumb slowly, lingering very lightly over it, as you rolled your pelvis slowly towards Joel. Then Frankie leaned down and started to lick it, pointing his tongue against your tight muscle. His hands now gripping your ass, he softened it under the tip of his tongue. Sometimes dropping his saliva on it, and lightly pushing his thumb in. Then a little deeper. He did it patiently, taking his time to prepare you. He was feeling his cock twitching. Your head resting on Joel's shoulder, you were moaning continuously, overwhelmed by the cock in your pussy, and the tongue opening you little by little. They were so hot, they took care of you so well since the start of the evening at the Lagoon. Attentive to your desires, to your reactions. Slightly changing the pace or position depending on your respiration, the pressure of your hands.

Eventually, Frankie pulled away. “You still want it, baby?”

“Yes, yes. Just…go slow, please, Frankie.”

“Of course. Lemme wet my cock in her pussy a little, Joel”, he asked. You pulled away from Joel slightly and he pulled out, his cock rubbing against your clit. Frankie pushed his cock easily in your dripping pussy, fucking it with one hand on your hip, and his thumb on your ass. Joel placed his hand on your neck, his forehead against yours, and murmured “you gonna take us both, sweetheart?”

“Fuck, yeah…Yeah, I’m gonna take you both, oh my god I can’t believe it’s happening…”

Franck grabbed his cock in his hand, and positioned it against your ring.

“Kiss me, sweetheart”, Joel muttured, stroking your hair. You looked up at him, his hands cupping your cheeks before coming to press his lips to yours. Quickly, his tongue sought yours, just as Frankie pushed in. You felt the muscle resisting at first, then gradually giving up. You whined in Joel’s mouth, his tongue never stopping brushing yours. You knew he wanted to make you forget the pain. Then he nibbled one of your lips, before licking it. Kissing you again. Until Frankie bottomed out, his balls against Joel's cock. He didn't stay buried and pulled back as slowly, before thrusting in again.

“Oh, fuck. Baby…it’s so good, fuck…”

“I can feel your cock Frankie, damn…are you ok, sweetheart?”

You nodded, unable to speak. Overwhelmed by all these emotions you were feeling. Your body was in the middle of theirs, and you felt fulfilled. Their hands were all over your upper body. Frankie’s mouth placed a thousand kisses on your shoulder blades and the back of your neck. Joel's hands caressed your breasts, your ass, your thighs. You heard them grunt and moan, in turn or together. You felt a new orgasm building, from rubbing your clit against Joel's lower abdomen.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come”, you whined.

“Come on baby, come again. Fuck, your ass is so good, baby.”

“Come on our cocks, sweetheart. Then we’ll fill you up. We’ll fill that pussy and that ass.”

“Oh fuck”, you whimpered, coming on their cocks, clenching them. You wondered if you hadn’t fainted, for a moment. 

You heard Frankie growling, and Joel calling you a “good girl”, just before he pulsed as deep as possible in you, followed by Frankie. 

You all froze, panting. Catching your breath. Then Frankie pulled back, placing one last kiss on your back. You pulled away from Joel after kissing him, and you lay against him. Frankie lay against you on the other side, spooning you, his hand on your hip. Their cum flowing from both of your sore holes.

You slept there, sometimes waking up during the night, feeling their bodies against yours or their arms around you. Snuggling against one of them then the other. 

When the rays of the sun woke the three of you and Frankie opened the van door, you had a direct view of the ocean. Its color was perfect. The most beautiful blue. And also these pastel, pink colors of the sky, at dawn. 

You spent the day with them. You surfed, took photos. Frankie’s freshly tattooed forearm with the word “adventure.” You looked at them so many times during that day. And every time your eyes met, you all blushed and giggled, thinking about the night you had spent.

You returned to the Lagoon, and didn't leave them until they finally gave up on the idea of going all the way to Southern California. They called you “our girl”. Their hands, tongues and cocks roaming every inch of your body, just as yours on theirs. They stayed with you until they had to return to Texas.

The day before, Frankie went to get another tattoo. Joel told you Frankie always got one at every place they visit, a tattoo of the best thing there. He showed it to you when he came back: a surfboard with your name on it. You hugged him so tight that he could barely breathe and couldn’t stop laughing, squeezed by your arms.

At the airport, they held you until the last minute. And your heart sank when they left.

A few months later, you were sitting at the same airport. Ready to board for Austin. So that they, in turn, could introduce you to their lives.

You looked at the sun through the large windows of the airport, and smiled. Life offers good surprises sometimes. Yours was Joel and Frankie.

Thank you for reading 🙏

***************

another Joel/reader/Frankie fic (different AU): Morning waves

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[nvuy]

an ode to a nightingale — sunday

summary. you were never anything. sunday begs to differ, in his own twisted way.

notes. a thing i did as an experiment and also as a little gift to a special someone (you know who you are) because we both enjoy staring at this guy's face. he's a funky little dude and a massive green flag. 100%.

i redownloaded hsr and i’ve started penacony. i have no idea what’s going on. it’s probably because i’ve been stuck staring at dr ratio’s boob window the whole time. i’m like a toddler watching cocomelon. i cant look away.

warnings. mdni, for safety. implied explicit content, dark themes, manipulation, sunday is a controlling dickhead, you’re an implied streetwalker, yandere themes, insulting, threatening, possessiveness, mentions of kidnapping, gaslighting, obsessiveness, lots of nice stuff like that. please let me know if i've missed anything!

“What do you want from me?”

You looked in the mirror as you spoke, and you saw some pathetic state of a person staring back at you. Behind the edges of the golden vanity was the outline of the filled bathtub with steam wafting from the surface.

And him.

You watched as he sank into the water with a satisfied gleam on his face.

You refused to linger on the scratch marks that left gorgeous red and white lines down his arms, and his chest, and his spine.

It smelled like coconut. Coconut and dusted sugar on creamy pastry. And the clogging smell of mascara.

It smudged down your cheeks, and your lips were ruined and swollen, and your skin was painted in purple bruises and teeth marks.

And you were sore. Every part of your body was aching.

Sunday was leaning against the edge of the tub, staring at you through his lashes. He always preferred his baths boiling, as if he wanted to melt his skin off. Usually, he’d bring a book with him and read it during his off time when given the chance.

He didn’t answer.

“You’ve changed,” he said instead. His voice echoed off of the white tiles in the bathroom.

“I look the same as the night you took me off the streets,” you murmured. “Like a whore.”

Sunday hummed. “Is that how you see yourself?” The wings extending from his ears dipped below the water for a moment. “A ‘whore?’”

You didn’t want to turn to face him.

It was difficult enough to hold his unwavering gaze in the mirror.

“You’re not denying it.”

“Because I think you look damaged.” He was honest this time, and there was bitterness swelling with his tone. He instinctively fluttered his feathers to dry them off.

“By your design.” You were speaking of how he made it his duty to ruin your skin with his teeth.

“What I’ve done to you is nothing. You had already ruined yourself by offering your body to those disgusting animals before I had ever even laid my eyes on you.” He waved his hand as if he meant no harm with his words. “I’ve merely saved you.”

Your jaw clenched.

He fluttered his lashes at you in the mirror and sighed.

What a pretty sight.

“‘Saved me?’” you repeated hoarsely. You tried not to claw at your skin in frustration. You willed yourself not to lunge at him and puncture his eyes from his skull. “Do me a favour and save me from your arrogance next. You’re deluded if you think trapping me in your bedroom is praiseworthy.”

He smiled.

“Think of it this way: a bird is much safer trapped in a cage than free to the winds.” The smell of coconut and sugared powder made your head spin. Of course, he would use the soaps and creams you wore when he first met you. The smell was engraved into his mind like a branding.

Although covered by a robe, you felt vulnerable. His gaze held strong. You weren’t sure if he was even blinking.

Sunday seemed too relaxed. Your freedom was a joke to him; what is freedom if you’re too busy giving your body to strangers? Did you want to go back to that life?

“You want me to get in the tub just so you can humiliate me,” you accused with a dangerous flash of your teeth.

You wanted to sound angry. You wanted to sound furious, but it was only a pitiful whimper of a phrase. You felt pathetically weak.

He was quick to answer, “I did not request your company.” He patted the book with golden edges that sat on a ledge of the bathtub. You didn’t want to ask of its contents. “You came here of your own fruition. You felt lonely.”

“You think you know everything about me.”

“But of course.” Sunday plucked the book from the ledge, careful not to wet the pages as he turned to the page he’d marked. “You are mine, after all.”

His tone was light. Confident.

Your face was burning. “Fuck you.”

Who even were you? Who were you next to him?

Nothing, was the appropriate answer. He insisted otherwise, though he’d never given you a definitive answer of what you were. He’d never explicitly stated you to be a whore, disobedient, disrespectful, too independent for your own good.

Everything you hated to hear about yourself, even if it was all true.

He’d only tut and usher you away with a wave of his hand.

You’re his, as well.

His teeth in your skin, his feathers tickling your neck, his wandering fingers that crept below your navel. He’s stained your skin with his. It’s hard to wash off—even harder when he shares the same soaps as you.

Perhaps he knows this, and that’s why he hopes you share a bath with him.

So you’re reminded that there’s a chain around your ankle.

“You’re a fuckin’ hypocrite, y’know. You think you’re so high and mighty, and yet you’re naked and pining after some street whore. And then you insist that I belong to you, but also beg for me beneath your own sheets.” But that wasn’t true.

As soon as the words left your lips you screwed your eyes shut and you leaned over the vanity.

His smile only grew, and the tip of his tongue touched the sharp edge of his canines.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the marble countertop.

Here he was, vulnerable. Susceptible to a swift slice of a blade to his neck, to being held beneath the surface of the water until he stopped flailing.

And you’re still so afraid of him.

He reads you like the book in his hands.

Sunday cooed. “Just like water, you are destructible, easily poisoned, and ever changing. You are lost, entrapped within four walls, so desperate to escape, but you cannot think for yourself.”

You furrowed your brows.

He turned the page of his book. The water sloshed as his arms moved.

The smell of coconut was hurting your head.

“You speak in tongues because you’re scared of ruining your perfect image,” you said. “You’re just an insecure little boy who's stuck in a daydream.”

That forced his head to turn. He almost snapped his book shut. Instead, his fingers froze on the edges of the crisp paper.

Then, he let out a hearty laugh.

“Allow me to rephrase: your beauty is wicked. It is rotten, vile, and evil.” The sweet scent of sugar was a cruel joke. It juxtaposed everything that spilled from his filthy lips. “Your blood is muddied and ruined. You’ve allowed strangers to see your skin.

“You’re lucky I’ve tolerated your behaviour for this long. If you were anybody else, you would have lost your foul tongue after our first night together.”

The way he said it all made you feel so much smaller than you were.

You finally turned around to face him. The reflection in the mirror made the bathtub seem further away than it actually was.

The tub was in the centre of the room, craved meticulously from a blue crystal. To you, it closely resembled aquamarine. It was big enough to be considered a swimming pool if you removed the golden faucet, but you refrained from insulting his fussy craftsmanship and adding fuel to the fire.

Sunday was particular about everything; sizing, shapes, colours. Everything had to match, everything had to make sense, everything had to be perfect and presentable. Any faults or flaws were dealt with swiftly, whether that be a person or an object. You weren’t sure if you were considered one or the other.

Then came the specifics. A ledge for placing things, voids in the walls for storing soaps, adequate cupboards, flooring, walls, forms, everything.

Aeons forbid you dropped a glass and scratched the precious tiling.

And he was particular about you, though he never clearly stated what he wanted from you.

He wanted you. That was clear from how he would coax you to join him with gentle words and fleeting touches. How he would stain your skin and leave an imprint of your body on his bedsheets.

Anything other than that was muddled, muddied, lost in his own deluded mind.

“What do you want from me?” you asked him again.

Sunday fluttered his lashes at you. “Nothing at all.”

“Have you ever told the truth?”

You had instinctively drawn yourself closer to him. You leaned over the tub, fingers curled around the rim of crystal.

Sunday sighed. He looked sick, like delusion had twisted through his mind like poison ivy crawling along the walls of the gardens outside. “You are afraid of the truth.”

“You’re lying again.” He wasn’t lying, but you refused to make him feel as though he was in control.

That was he fed off.

Your fear, your touch, your taste, your words, every inch of your skin. His. All of it.

“I want everything,” he stated.

You wanted to break the tub and slit his throat with the shards of crystal.

“I want you to give yourself to me. All of yourself.”

How selfish of him.

He still views you as an offering.

You turned away and moved to storm out of the bathroom. You would wait until he was finished. You couldn’t be in the room with him.

The steam was burning your skin, and your scent on him was making your head feel like it was splitting apart.

He grabbed your face and forced you to look back.

You would have described his eyes as beautiful; golden irides with hints of plush velvet and a deep sapphire. But all he did was stare. He’d never look away, and he never wished to.

He saw things you did not.

“I want undying loyalty.” When you squirmed, he held your cheeks harder. “I want hopeless devotion. I want compassion. I want to see the silhouette of you in my bed first thing every morning.”

Your nails were frozen digging into his wrist, still wet and hot from the water.

He seemed as though he wished to say more, though refrained when he let go of your face. He’d abandoned his book now, his gaze remaining locked onto you.

Your cheeks stung from his fingerprints. You feared the patterns would be burned into your flesh.

“I want you to stop,” you whispered.

You knew what he was doing.

“Oh, I will.” This time, when his fingers raised for your face, he simply grazed them along your sore cheek. “Join me.”

You didn’t answer at first. You didn’t even move from your spot, frozen as if he’d drawn ice down your spine.

You breathed out. Your fingers were trembling.

“I’m not stupid,” you said. You were trying to convince yourself it was true.

Sunday only tilted his head. “No, you’re not stupid.”

He was already pulling the string of the bow around your waist. His wings bristled.

“I know what you’re doing,” you insisted, holding onto the fluffy material when he undid the knot holding the robe together. “I know what you’re doing.”

He smiled playfully. His hands pushed away the robe. “What am I doing?”

Your eyes welled with tears.

You don’t know what he’s doing. You are stupid.

You wished you’d never met him. You wished you’d never let soft hands and kind words and those pretty eyes of his draw you into his bed.

You shouldn’t have ever crawled back to him.

You let out a pathetic sob.

“Oh, you sweet thing.”

Sunday tutted pitifully and offered his hand.

Almost instinctively, as if it had been written in your blood since the moment you were born, you took it and leaned into his embrace.

His hair smelled of sugared tea. The feathers of his wings grazed over your face, now soaked with your tears.

He gently drew you into the water, murmuring something bordering on praise. You didn’t even hear what he said.

“I will make you all better.”

The water was hot. His lips on your cheek made you dizzy. The mirror had completely steamed up by now, and your chest pressed flush against his.

You tried to push him off you. You tried. You really did. You’d done this before, many times. Letting him break you down and watching as you lost control of your limbs and clawed at him until he held you.

He was good at that. Predicting. Letting things form the way they always did.

You were so angry. Angry at yourself, at him, at everything. Weakly, you curled your fists and hit his shoulders defeatedly. You heard him laugh.

All you did was betray yourself, surrendering and stilling as his cold hands dipped below the water.

“I will make you whole again.”

[tea-plantz]

Haiiiii! I recently read your anxiety head cannons and I’m like in loveee with your writing. If you don’t mind, could you do the same concept of the head cannons but with Ennui?

Thank you 💗💗

Aaa oh my god, thank you so much! That really made my day😭

I love Ennui, she’s so gorgeous oml, and she deserves some hcs as well! I’ve seen close to nothing about her, she does not get enough love >:(

~Ennui x Love emotion reader~

When you first appeared in the HQ as the new emotion representing love, Ennui honestly wouldn’t care. You were just another emotion, nothing special, she might even find you a little annoying. Something about the way you always seemed so hyper and talkative kind of pissed her off. You were just always so…. out there.

“You care too much about things”

However, as time went by, and Ennui got more used to your presence, she would tolerate you more and more. You were an extrovert (unlike her), and talked a lot to everyone, including her, causing her to slowly start getting to know you more. She even started to find your company…. quite nice. You would lay on the couch beside her as she scrolled on her phone, maybe even playing with her hair a little, or snuggling up to her. And even though she did find your flirtations to be a bit irritating, a small blush could still be seen on her cheeks.

Once the purple emotion came to the realization that she liked you, after some time of knowing you, she wouldn’t know what to do. She had never been in this situation before, and especially not with someone as vibrant and romantic as you. Ennui wouldn’t wanna admit to crushing on you, she would keep it to herself and try to act casually, although you did notice that she was avoiding eye contact a little more than usual.

The way you found out that she liked you was probably accidental. She might have fallen asleep on the couch whilst playing on her phone, and mumbled something in her sleep.

“Mmh… they are so flirty and annoying… but they’re so cute… ugh, why do I want them so bad?”

Then she went back to mumbling stuff in French. You, Anxiety, Envy and all the other emotions at the console just stood there, mouths wide open like a fish, and eyes as round as plates. When Ennui woke up a little later you took her somewhere private to talk about it, and boy was she embarrassed. It’s super rare to see Ennui look anything other than bored, but when you told her what she had said in her sleep, she looked totally frozen in place and flustered as hell. She had basically just told you that she likes you in front of the whole headquarters… yikes. Luckily, the feelings where returned<3

When you two finally started dating it would be like a super hyper and chill girlfriend duo. You would always be gushing about romance and love, talking a bunch and all that, while she would listen and nod along.

She takes sneak photos of you and keep them in a special album on her phone, I’m sorry-

Ennui would secretly really enjoy it when you got touchy with her, she might roll her eyes, or groan, but she actually loves it. Whenever you cuddle up with her, give her kisses or play with her hair, she feels all warm inside, and a small smile can be seen on her face. I also think she would find it sweet if you braided her hair, it’s not like she has the energy to do it herself anyway, it’s waaaay too much work. That girl doesn’t even pull her socks all the way up, like c’mon-

You guys play games on her phone, I hc that she is kinda obsessed with candy crush.

I feel like the only things she truly shows interest in openly is her phone, and you.

Ennui often tells you that you’re overly sweet, and kinda tease you about it. Like, not in a mean way, she just points out how romantic and all you are, and comperes you to a cupcake or something.

“Mon Dieu, you’re always so sweet, it’s sickening. You’re like a little walking cupcake, all giggly and cute”

Sometimes she kind of feels bad for how little effort she puts into anything, especially with you being so charming and romantic, so she would try her best to put in a little extra work. She’ll probably call you some pet-names in French, like mon amour, or mon chéri. That, and she’ll make sure to give you some hugs whenever she can, like she’ll wrap her arms around your waist from behind whenever you’re both standing by the console.

She loooves to lean on you!

Ennui isn’t usually phased by your flirting, she finds it cute and kinda cheesy. She might roll her eyes or smile a little, but sometimes, when you say something that really gets to her, she’ll stiffen up, her eyes go wide and she gets a dark blush across her face. I don’t think Ennui’s usually that blushy, but if you’re lucky, and use the right words, you get to see it from time to time. <33

She looks so Lilly with her eyes wide open, it feels cursed and cute at the same time

[onlinesuzie]

can u write something about you and hamzah being apart and missing each other?? 😮‍💨😮‍💨🫶

♡ hamzah misses you ♡

words: 1.6k

genre: FLUFF!!

summary: Hamzah misses you a lot.

notes: guys i literally just needed an excuse to make hamzah the most cringe rom com man in the world.

☆

Hamzah couldn’t stop thinking about you. All day, thoughts of you filled his mind, he missed every part of you. It had only been a few days since you last saw each other, but to him, it felt like it was far too long. The warmth of your smile, the sound of your laughter, the way you always seemed to know how to make him laugh—he missed it all.

Hamzah was used to being busy. His days were often filled with filming and editing for slushy noobz. But today, even the excitement of a new video idea couldn’t distract him from how much he missed you. Sitting in his apartment, surrounded by cameras and editing equipment, he found it impossible to focus on anything else. Every glance at his phone, every moment of silence, brought him back to the same thought: I miss her.

Finally, as the afternoon sun began to go down, Hamzah made a decision. He closed his laptop, grabbed his keys, and left his apartment early. His audience would understand if the next video came out a little later than usual. Right now, there was something more important—someone more important—that he needed to see.

As he walked through the door, the rich scent of fresh flowers enveloped him. He scanned the colorful array, his eyes finally settling on a bouquet of your favorite flowers—soft pink roses mixed with delicate white lilies. He smiled to himself, knowing how much you would love them.

With the flowers in hand, Hamzah made his way to your favorite restaurant. The familiar smells of spices and freshly cooked dishes greeted him as he entered. He ordered a selection of your favorite meals, making sure to get everything just right. Once the food was packed up, he hurried to his car, excitement bubbling up inside him. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you opened the door.

By the time he reached your house, the sky was painted with shades of orange and purple. His heart raced as he walked up to your front door, balancing the bouquet and the bags of food. He took a deep breath, hoping you’d be as happy to see him as he was to see you. Then, with a slight shake in his hand, he knocked.

You opened the door, and the moment your eyes met his, his nerves melted away. A smile spread across your face, lighting up the dimming evening. "Hamzah!" you exclaimed, surprised but clearly delighted. He handed you the flowers with a shy grin.

"I missed you so much," he said simply, his voice filled with genuine kindness. "And I thought maybe we could spend some time together?"

Your eyes softened as you took the flowers, their sweet fragrance filling the space between you. "You didn’t have to, Hamzah but I’m so happy I could cry," you replied, stepping aside to let him in. "These are so so so beautiful. Thank you so much."

Before Hamzah could respond, you leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "I’ve missed you too, but don’t tell anyone" you whispered, your lips grazing his skin.

Hamzah’s smile grew, his eyes sparkling with affection. "I, um, also brought you something else, to you know.. eat!" he added, holding up the bags. "I wasn’t sure what you’d like today, so I got a little bit of everything."

"You are so cringe sometimes Hamzah," you laughed, leading him into the living room. "Well come on my loser! Let’s set up in here and eat ‘cause I am actually starving."

Inside, you both moved to the living room, where Hamzah set the food on the coffee table. You brought out a couple of blankets, draping them over the couch as he unpacked the containers. The room quickly filled with the savory scents of the meal. You laughed softly as you saw he’d ordered all your favorites, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself at how happy this boy makes you.

"How was editing today, my love?" you asked as you both sat down, plates in hand.

"It was okay, there was a lot we had to cut today though because Martin kept doing weird dances and for his ego i just could not release that," Hamzah replied, giving you a warm look. "I couldn’t stop thinking about you thought, so I decided to come see you. I hope you don’t mind."

"Of course, I don’t mind," you said, touched by his honesty. "I’ve missed you too. It’s been such a long week, and being with you is exactly what I needed."

As you ate, you couldn’t stop sharing glances at each other. It was as if no time had passed at all since you last saw each other. You told him stories from your insane week, laughed at jokes from the past, and fell into comfortable silence between bites, simply enjoying the company.

"Remember that time we got lost trying to find that restaurant?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips.

Hamzah smiled. "How could I forget? We wandered around for an entire hour before you realized we were on the wrong street the whole time.

"At least we eventually found it," you teased. "And the food was so worth it."

"Well.. I wouldn’t say it was truly worth it," he agreed. "But either way I think tonight’s food might be even better. But maybe and just maybe, it’s just the company."

"See, you are so cringe you idiot," you said, playfully nudging his shoulder. "But I guess you’re right, if i had to confess."

Hamzah laughed softly, and as you both finished your meal, he leaned in closer, his eyes locking with yours. "Oh! You’ve got something," he said surprised, his voice teasing as he pointed to your lips.

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? What?" You began wiping at your face.

"Stop, let me get it for you," he said, his tone playful. Before you could respond, Hamzah leaned in and kissed you, his lips brushing over yours in a tender moment. You felt your face glow red, warmth spreading through you as you kissed him back.

When he pulled away, his smile was soft, and his eyes were full of affection. "There," he whispered, "I think it’s all gone now."

You laughed, pushing him away from you. "You’re way too much, you know that?"

"Only for you," he replied, pretending to be hurt.

After dinner, Hamzah suggested watching a movie. You agreed, scrolling through the options until you found something you both liked. The lights were dim, and the only glow in the room came from the TV as the film began. You curled up next to him on the couch, wrapping the blanket around you both. Hamzah draped his muscular arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. The steady rhythm of his breathing and the gentle rise and fall of his chest under your head made you feel safe and so happy.

As the movie played, you found yourself more focused on the way Hamzah’s fingers gently traced patterns on your arm than on the plot. You turned your head slightly to look up at him, catching the soft smile on his lips as he watched the screen. His happiness was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile, too.

"You know," you whispered during a quiet moment in the movie, "I’m really glad you came over tonight. I didn’t realize how much I needed this, even if that means I have the most embarrassing boyfriend in the world."

Hamzah looked down at you, his expression tender. "Me too. I was worried you might be busy, but I just couldn’t stay away."

"You’re always welcome here, Hamzah," you replied, resting your head back on his shoulder. "Anytime."

Hamzah leaned down and kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with comfort. "That means a lot to me."

The movie eventually ended, but neither of you moved. You were too comfortable, too content to let the moment slip away. It was only when you glanced at the clock that you realized how late it had gotten. Hamzah noticed, too, and for a moment, there was a pause—neither of you wanting the night to end.

"Stay," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want you to go."

Hamzah didn’t hesitate. "I’d love to," he replied, his smile widening. "I didn’t really want to leave anyway."

"Good," you said, standing up and offering your hand to him. "Come on, let’s get ready for bed."

"Sounds perfect," Hamzah agreed, taking your hand and following you. "This has been the best night I’ve had in a long time."

As you led him to your bedroom, Hamzah gently pulled you to a stop, turning you to face him. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs softly caressing your cheeks. "I’m really glad I came over," he said, his voice low and full of emotion.

Before you could respond, Hamzah leaned in, capturing your lips in a heartfelt kiss. It was soft and unhurried, full of the emotions he couldn’t quite put into words. You melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer, enjoying the moment.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, but your smiles were wide.

"Me too," you whispered, your forehead resting against his.

You both got ready for bed, the routine now familiar and comforting. When you finally lay down, Hamzah pulled you close, his arm wrapped protectively around you. You nestled into his embrace, feeling his warmth and the steady beat of his heart against your back.

"Goodnight," he whispered into your hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

"Goodnight, Hamzah," you murmured back, your voice filled with contentment. Before you drifted off to sleep, you turned in his arms to face him, giving him one last sweet kiss on the lips.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

diasomnia ice-cream parlor au doodles

[Referencing this post!]

Hello, yes, I’ve been thinking about the Diasomnia ice-cream parlor AU again 🍨🍦 I guess I must have been really hungry lately www

I see them as offering not just ice-cream, bur also variants like gelato, shaved ice, milkshakes, etc. (They can afford it with support from the Draconia royal family’s funds 😂) The focus here will be ice-cream though, just because that’s Malleus’s favorite.

Imagine walking in and not knowing what to order (there’s so much to choose from!), so you ask the staff to pick something for you… (Yes, I’ve thought about this way too much and now I’m going to shovel this at you—)

Malleus strikes me as a very traditional and old-fashioned guy, so I’d see him falling back on ol’ reliable. You can’t go wrong with a classic sugar cone and a healthy scoop on top!

He recommends mint chocolate chip because it adds an additional pleasant cooling sensation to the actual coldness of ice-cream. Malleus is fond of the flavor himself; it’s great for cooling down a mouth that’s hot from breathing flames!

You’re brave if you accept anything Lilia hands you… You ask him what this is (the ice-cream looks… discolored in some places, and there’s all this weird stuff jutting out from it; is that a piece of lettuce???). He just winks at you and calls it “Lilia-chan’s Super Cute ⭐️ Special”, featuring a bunch of “unique” flavors he created himself.

It comes served in a cup because it’s easier to eat it while walking that way. For Lilia, who is a well-seasoned traveler, foods that are able to be eaten on the go are a plus!

Silver picks out a waffle bowl (it resembles a sturdy bird’s nest) and encourages you to try a lot of different things. It’ll help you to gain an appreciation for the new and unfamiliar! With how wide the waffle bowl is and how many flavors and toppings are in there, this can be good for sharing with friends from all over.

The particular version featured in the doodle has three kinds of ice-cream, each one representing one of the three Good Fairies. A pink flavor, a blue flavor, and a green flavor—maybe rose or strawberry, blueberry or cotton candy, and pistachio? It’s a very naturey palate.

His animal friends have helped with the ingredients; there’s honey drizzled on top, as well as crushed nuts. Freshly picked berries and edible flowers garnish the bowl too—oh, and we can’t forget a generous chunk of honeycomb!

… I don’t know much about Kingdom Hearts, but I’ve heard that Silver resembles Riku from KH?? So maybe Silver can offer some sea salt ice-cream too as a throwback 😂

… Was anyone surprised by this? No? No.

Sebek chose a tall parfait glass for serving so that the dessert can be as tall as possible. It’s a matcha and ube soft serve, swirled high. The green is Diasomnia’s color, and the purple is meant to be the color of the underside of Malleus’s cape. (Sebek wanted to include black ice-cream to for the Draconia royal color, but couldn’t find a good flavor.)

Art isn’t his forte, but Sebek did his best to “recreate the imposing, elegant image of wakasama” in his dessert. The cherry on top, flanked by two conical chocolate pieces, are meant to be Malleus and his horns. The wafer poking out is supposed to “enhance the young master’s presence”. All the other things are extra details in an effort to make the ice-cream larger than life: candied fruit peels arranged in a line (to resemble the spines on a dragon’s tail), mochi balls (“magestones”) piled to one side, and a chocolate biscuit stick + wafer that, together, look like Malleus’s staff.

Sebek tried really hard! … He will aggressively try to sell you on this item.

If you’re really hungry or with a large group, why not go for the Diasomnia Family Fundae? It’s their take on a sundae, served in a glass boat. There’s a whole banana, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and three maraschino cherries! The bramble is made of dark chocolate.

Each student is represented by one scoop and a little candy or chocolate that helps to characterize the boy (horns, bat wings, lightning bolt, or sword). Sebek is a lemon-like sherbet, befitting of his loud, in-your-face personality. Lilia is a bright red berry flavor (strawberries, cherries, cranberries, etc.), like his favorite red juices, deep and complex. Silver is vanilla bean, pure, simple, and earnest. (He could also be a subtle lavender flavor, since that's a flower known to ease you into sleep.) And Malleus… well, that scoop is a pitch black, but the flavor is something you can’t quite place your tongue on. It’s a mystery, just like he is! (Maybe the shop changes the flavor every now and again. They can run a promo where if you guess the right flavor combo for that particular week’s Malleus scoop, they give you a discount or a free cone.)

A lot of chocolate sauce is dripping down from the Malleus scoop; this is because the sauce is supposed to be his “blot”. The bottom three scoops—Lilia, Sebek, and Silver—are blanketed by the chocolate thorns as a reference to how those three were sentenced to sleep.

[yuheartss]

𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑

IN WHICH — saiki k meets a girl with a pink afro, she reminds him of cotton candy …

౨ৎ WC? 742 wordss

౨ৎ warnings! - fem!reader, fluff, unedited , lowercase intended!

౨ৎ a/n: I think I made him a little ooc but I hope not.. if I did please tell me! constructive criticism is welcome js don’t b mean₊ ⊹₊ ⊹

you always hung out with Kaidou, not because he was your only friend or anything— it’s just that he was just one of the people who didn’t give you weird looks about your skin or hair, you moved to Japan when you were in junior high and been here ever since your mum got a job transfer

today, kaidou was going to introduce you to his friends from his class, of course, you were very nervous you thought of the worst possible situations ever. What if they make weird comments about my hair?? You thought, twisting some of your curls around your finger

Kaidou seemed to notice your nervousness and patted you back, “don’t be nervous! My friends are great- not saying you aren’t, your like really great but- it’s just- you know..” you laugh at his attempt to cheer you up “thanks kaidou” you chuckled now getting up from the bench you were on

his friends finally showed up, a big guy with a strangely enormous butt chin, a pink haired boy who looks like he’s so done with everything, three girls (one which was glowing somehow??) a boy with red hair, and two other purple haired boys

“You sure do have a lot of friends Kai…” you muttered as he awkwardly chuckled, you stood up straight as a foot shorter yet glowing girl approached you with a brunette and orange brown behind her, the glowing girl took your hands in hers “your so pretty! I love your hair! What’s your name? I’m teruhashi kokomi!”

Teruhashi gave you a smile that blinded you for a bit but you could just see that her face screams not as pretty as me but your still good looking you gave her an awkward smile “hi.. I’m l/n y/n nice to meet you teruhashi and thanks!”

Teruhashi introduced the shorter girl as Yumehara and the girl to her left as chi sati she waved at you while she was scarfing down a double cheeseburger now this this is what impressed you she had a whole bag full just waiting to be devoured

Then teruhashi introduced the red haired boy, which everybody called him hairo so you will too then both of the purple boys greeted you themselves the firsts name was koboyasu and the second was Toritsuka; almost immediately they began to share both of their life story with you

You stood there with all your weight on your right leg slowly tuning out the boys and the rest of the gang why are they telling me their life story!?! I don’t care! You thought, whining softly underneath your breath someone nudges your arm softly you looked up at the also pink haired guy he nods his head at you and walks off “follow me” you hear a voice in your head

You turn back to the crew then at kaidou then you look back at the guy you hesitantly take a step forward “good grief..we’ll be back they won’t even know we’re gone” you pause for a sec and mutter an ok before walking away with him wait what if he kidnaps me?! What the hell am I doing—

“Don’t flatter yourself” he says, walking in front of you, your eyebrow twitched in annoyance to which a faint smile lands upon his lips “so where are we going?” You ask now walking side by side

“I was going to the convenient store before they showed up and dragged me along, so that’s where we’re going” he informed you looking at your hair, he must’ve been staring for a while because you noticed “what?” You questioned him getting a little defensive

“Your hair…” he began as he opened the door to the store for you “what about it?” You say following him as he went to get his snack of choice, he picked out some coffee jelly that came in three

He didn’t answer, you sighed and went to get a dessert too “you know…I’ve never even asked for your name..” you say just know realizing that you’ve been with this teen and never asked he turned to you as he payed for both of your treats “Saiki”

“Okay saiki, tell me what you were gonna say about my hair” you semi demand and quietly thanking him for buying the treat, you can clearly see him hesitating “just say it man” you hurry starting to get impatient

“….it reminds me of cotton candy”

[ruthytwoshakes]

Bunch of two fort ladies hell yeah B)

headcannons of inconsistent length below the cut

Zhanna: reeeeeeoow!!! She’s so gorgoryse . gay as hell about all these women tbh. Yeah I just gave her body hair and thicker eyebrows because it’s cool as fuck. And a bear claw scar from when she tried to take home a baby bear when she was little. I think she really likes bears and wants one as a pet. Maybe the bear and soldier’s raccoons would get along aww <33

Admin: yipppeee evil old lady!!!!! . Gave her acne scars , think she would pick her face when she was younger and the scars never faded. shes so pretty heruhghhsg. She smokes these fucked up super long cigarettes idk. I like her wonky nose, maybe she got into a fight or something and broke it.

Scouts Ma: oh man I have so many ideas for her hehehhe. Okay so her name is Jenny, shes Puerto Rican, moved to Boston when she was a young adult, and she’s around the same height as sniper. She’s green because she’s both the scouts mother, and I didn’t want her to be purple like Pauling and Admin I wanted her to be her own person. Her heart locket contains a bunch of pictures of her boys that all cartoonishly fold out to the floor when she opens it up.

She’s bi and poly, and currently dating both the spies because I think it’s funny. I can’t decide if both the spies would also be dating each other or would hate each other, maybe it depends on the time of day. Oh also she used to be an assassin! Maybe that’s why she had to move because she got found out at her old hometown. Anybody who got too rough with her boys were never seen again, only reason the scouts made it out alive lol.

She’s only recently gotten back together with the spies, had a falling out with Red before she knew she was pregnant, but he wanted to reconnect with her after finding out Red scout was his kid. Blu and her were friends for a really long time, she was the surrogate mother to Blu scout, but they fell out of contact when Blu spy had to take scout and disappear due to some espionage work gone wrong. When both the Blus join the team, the red scout recognized them and Blu spy eventually reconnected with Jen through that.

All of her kids are out of the house and she’s retired, so she has a lot of free time. She hosts foreign exchange students and fosters baby animals. She does a lot of traveling and shopping, she also likes knife and axe throwing, while doing some abstract sculpting on the side.

Maggie:

I love Maggie she’s so interesting,, I really like the panels where she’s laughing with saxton on the plane. Oh yeah gave her a mustache cus she’s Australian!, don’t be shy give the pretty lady a mustache she deserves it. That line on her lip was from this one girl I had a crush on back in high school, she said that she was bullied for it. don’t think I’ve ever seen it on another person since. She was one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met. I hope she’s doing alright. She was a really good friend, real wonderful person.

Merasmus:

hi Merasmus how r u. oh yeah I’m trying out some other designs for her because I’m working on a little animated series about her and a magic spell she fucks up. I want her to be Sumerian because Sumer is so interesting!! I’ve been learning about the art from it in class, check out the Sumerian virtue status or the Epic of Gilgamesh they’re some of my favorite bits of history we’ve learned so far. Oh yeah also I think when she takes off that weird cap thing she has the longest most beautiful curly hair that goes down to her ankles because I love those kind of visual gags hehe. Also yeah she has piercings idk why I did that. I think she’s kinda blind and she uses her skull to see with her magic or whatever. I love her facial expressions in the comics,, have you guys seen the cunty Merasmus poster i love the cunty Merasmus poster

Miss Pauling:

MISS PAULFIJF LETS FUCMIGN GOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!! She’s got sideburns because im a dyke bleh blehhhh . hshe look at her big ass glasses I’m in love. Oh yeah I gave her lots of moles! And changed up her sleeve colors. Too tired to write much more lol

[buttdumplin]

A John Price meet-the-fam special!! This is pure, indulgent fluff.

cw: gn!reader, latine reader word count: 1.2k

When Price first meets your family, it goes over smoother than fucking water over a polished worry stone. It just is. You thought it might go like that, knowing that he’d do practically anything to make himself fit in as seamlessly as possible. But you also knew that bringing home a white guy always comes with a very specific brand of first interactions.

You prep him for the teasing that’s to come, about his accent, about his complexion, about the food he eats. John takes it all in very seriously, nodding along and asking probing questions. It’s all for your benefit, and he’s incredibly mindful of that. You don’t necessarily need to know he’s already got a plan of action, though.

By the time you arrive at the family home, you’re a little stiff, braced for the barrage of probing questions that’s to come. You can tell the family is curious, you see the tías eyeing up and down. But there’s no interrogation this time. Because John beats them to it. He’s polite and answers all the niceties as respectfully as he can. And then he immediately launches into offering up information, as cryptic as it may be. He dons that dimpled smile of his and tells them what he can.

“I’ve been at this job for a while now, but I’m retiring soon. It’s actually my personal life that I'm more invested in improving now.” 

“I’m hoping to buy a home in the very near future. Maybe like this one, a big family place. I’ve been tucking away money for it for a while now.”

“I’ve had to spend a lot of time away, but I’m really looking forward to staying home with this one.”

The tías are swooning when he makes intense eye contact with you across the table as he speaks. He’s not hiding any kind of intentions, from you or them. None of the information is particularly new to you, but hearing him say it out loud? In front of all the people important to you? It’s one thing when it’s quietly discussed in the early hours of the morning. It’s another thing entirely to hear it all said in such a permanent way.

At one point, your godmother, as entrometida as she always is, mentions she’s willing to go shopping with him if he’s ever in need of a ring, says she’s always had a good eye for your style.

“Oh, no. Se lo agradezco, pero ya no va a ser necesario,” he replies with an even bigger smile, and it’s got the women hollering. They’d take a bite out of him if they could. John carries himself with the firm confidence of knowing who he is, and they can see that. They respect it.

The tías, predictably, also do everything they can to keep you two physically apart. You’re put on comal duty, keeping you in the deep corner of the kitchen where he can’t reach you. John himself doesn’t try to reach for you, wanting to spare you the godforsaken “chiflando y aplaudiendo” even at your big age. So he keeps busy by setting the table, asking only where he can find the cups and tableware. They all ooh and aah.

“Ven? Ni se le tuvo que pedir,” they shout at the tíos, pointing at John’s busy hands.

A few questions do pop up once dinner is set. Do you eat this kind of food? Have you had this before? Do you like it? Tíos razz him into adding more and more salsa on his food, and John, knowing full well how it all ends, goes along with it. He’s managed to build up some tolerance that he’s quite proud of, but there is no way that’s saving him. He knows what he’s in for. A single bite and his face turns so red it’s almost purple, his coughing making it hard for him to get water down. The tíos laugh and he’s smiling along with them, the tías rushing to get more water and napkins and a cup of milk because “I heard this helps white people?” You swap his plate out for a new one while they’re all caught up with John, taking a few bites of food to try to match it to the dish he had before. 

A bubble of softness blooms in the room. The tías are cooing over him, consoling him after his “brave attempt.” The tíos take turns patting his back, smiling down proudly at him for having met their challenge. He smiles back at you from across the table, knowing full well what you’ve done to his food, spotting a few more veggies than he’s originally served himself. The tablecloth is long, surely they won’t spot him gently nudging your foot with his own. 

When your godfather invites him out onto the porch for a smoke, John knows it’s his time to shine. He asks you to stay inside with a wink. He brought those Cuban cigars with him for a reason, he’s sure he’ll make it through. You hold him at the door for a second longer, just enough to give him a tender kiss before sending him along. Neither of you missed the way your godfather so clearly recognizes the way John moves, his own military past helping read further into the man you’ve brought home. You know there’s a good chance of this not going perfectly. 

Ignoring the calls from your tías, you crawl to sit below the window that lets out right behind them. They both let out soft grunts as they settle into their chairs, a long hum of appreciation from your godfather clearly signaling John has opened the cigar box for him. It’s silent for a while. The only sounds come from the lighter and their soft exhalations. Then a soft rustling begins. It’s not the trees, it’s too muted for that. It’s not gravel, they aren’t going anywhere and they certainly didn’t make their getting-up grunts. No, it’s their clothes. Because they’ve come up with hand signs on the spot, across languages, so you can’t listen in. 

There’s some chuckling, surely that’s a good sign! But the low sigh coming shortly after isn’t very encouraging. You try to make sense of it somehow, but there’s no distinct rhythm to it. And suddenly you’re twelve again and trying to sneak a peek. You may not need a stool to help you, you’re tall enough to see through the window on your tiptoes. Maybe if you do it slowly, they won’t notice. So slowly it goes, your knees creaking as you inch up. Their rustling continues; good, they haven’t noticed. Yet as stealthy as you try to be, they’re both looking directly at you as you finally get eyes on them. Their smiles all too knowing. You godfather winks at you, clicking his tongue fondly. He holds a hand up before you can say anything, groaning a little as he rises. He takes a beat to look down at John. You’re all frozen for a moment. And then your godfather’s hand comes down firmly on John’s shoulder, giving him a sturdy shake. 

“Me meto antes de que la vieja huela todo este humo,” he says. It’s done. No disaster, just acceptance.

When you turn back to John, he’s already got a mad grin on his face, “See? This old white boy’s still got some moves.”

AN: I am buckled the fuck in for all this latine reader content, so yall will be seeing a whole lot more of it. Thank you again to @mikichko!!! For your support and encouragement, and your incredibly generous feedback. I'm doing this to feed us both.

Let me know if yall wanna see anything with latine reader in particular!!

[10yrsyart]

“Restitution: an act of restoring, or a condition of being restored”

None of us are perfect and so all of us have broken God’s Law. Good deeds can’t erase wrongs, just as you can’t recapture words that have left your mouth. But God loved us so much that He provided the payment for our sins instead. “He cancelled the record of the charges against us and took it away by nailing it to the cross.” (Colossians 2:14)

Just as these people had a choice to accept the offer of legal freedom, we also have the choice to accept Jesus’ payment for us, and His freedom. “For God has rescued us from the kingdom of darkness and transferred us into the Kingdom of His dear Son, who purchased our freedom and forgave our sins.” (Colossians 1:13-14)

Don’t rely on the good things you do as a ticket to Heaven. Only perfection is allowed into God’s home. Which is why Jesus, who lived a perfect life and died in our place, is the only way to be made perfect in God’s eyes. His righteousness covers us when we believe. A third option isn’t there; you either live with Him or live separated from Him forever. Believe in Jesus and accept His offer of payment and eternal life, for He loved you enough to pay it all so you can live. 💙

“For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 6:23)

transcript:

Judge: You three have been charged with embezzlement, grand theft, and resisted arrest. You have two options. The first: A prison sentence that will continue until you have payed the entire sum of money that was lost. The second is provided by this gentleman here. He has offered to pay your bail in full, which I will accept as restitution, and your record will be wiped. Make your decisions now please.

Red Man: Who the heck is this guy, talking like he owns the place? These charges are totally unfair.

Blue Woman: What were you expecting? We did break the law.

Red Man: So our choices are living it up in prison or being indebted to this rich goody goody? I'm not accepting that. I don't need him. Where's the third option?

Purple Woman: I don't need a bail out either, I've done a lot of charity work. I'm sure there's a balance there somewhere.. You just have to wheedle the judge a little.

Blue Woman: Are you listening to yourself?-

Judge: Have you made your decisions?

Red Man: Yeah, I refuse! Who made it a crime to borrow a lil' money here and there? It's a free country, ain't it? Actually, it's a crime to discriminate against me like this!

Judge: So you have chosen the first option. I am truly sorry to hear this, Sir. Very well, officers, if you would-

Red Man: Hey, get your hands off me!

Judge: And you, ma'am?

Purple Woman: You see, Judge, I've worked with many nonprofits and charities over the years. They can vouch for me! I'm not really a bad person, this was just a little lapse in judgment, that's all.

Judge: I'm afraid it doesn't matter how many good works you've done, ma'am. The law is still the law, and you've broken it. If you do not accept the pardon you've been offered, you must accept the consequences of your actions.

Purple Woman: Let go of me! I don't deserve this-

Judge: What about you, ma'am?

Blue Woman: ..I'd like to accept this man's generous offer. But, if I may.. Why do you trust him to follow through? It's a rather large price...

Judge: Wonderful, a good question! I have seen his work and I trust his integrity explicitly. For you see- He is my Son.

Yeshua: Congratulations!

Blue Woman: Thankyou.. Thankyou so much! How can I ever repay you?!

Yeshua: I don't want your payment, I'm satisfied that you're free.

Blue Woman: But why?

Yeshua: Let's take a walk together for a bit and get to know each other. I'm doing something quite exciting, and I want you to be a part of it.

[weirdmarioenemies]

When you think of enemies from Super Mario Bros. 2, who comes to mind? Personally, one of the first that comes to MY mind are those weird birds that you find as early as World 1. The borderline flightless ones that were colored red, white and black in the original, but weirdly got some purple coloring in the All-Stars remake — the ones who weirdly barely appeared again. You know,

Name: Pidgit

Debut: Super Mario Bros. 2/ Yume Kōjō: Doki Doki Panic

Did I actually trick anyone into thinking today’s enemy would be sweet old Tweeter? I don’t know if Tweeter is well-known enough to get that kind of anticipation!

Regardless, Pidgit’s a weird enemy, to be certain! Of course, one could say almost all Super Mario Bros. 2 enemies are weird, but “flightless crow riding on a carpet” is a bit more weird than enemies like “walking bomb”, “walking cactus”, and “bird that drops walking bomb”.

And that’s right: despite its name, Pidgit is a crow, which is not a pigeon at all! It is actually more wrong to name Pidgit after a pigeon than it is to name a gorilla enemy with some sort of hare-related pun in mind. And that’s science!

However, even its original Japanese name is just a portmanteau of “dodo” and “Rodrigues solitaire”, both of which are pigeons…this is Pidgit’s Trick.

This guy’s an oddball, one that didn’t debut in a Mario game and has had very few reappearances since, but has left an inescapable impact since. Before that, though, let’s cherish the reappearances it HAS had!

Pidgit’s first reappearance is a weird one—instead of riding a magic carpet, it finds itself being blasted out of Turtle Cannons in Fall as the Pidgit Bill! Super Mario World sure seems pretty fond of Super Mario Bros. 2, and this might be one of its most blatant callbacks. Funnily enough, in the SNES version only horizontally-moving Bullet Bills get replaced, which seems fine until you realize Super Mario World also introduces vertically- and diagonally-inclined Bullet Bills. Woopsie!

Pidgit Bills appear in the ending of Super Princess Peach, too, congratulating the player! That’s cute.

Pidgit’s next appearance would be another weird one. Wario’s Woods has it be one of Wario’s goons, replacing the fairy when Wario appears on the upper right screen to drop only bombs. Remember when Wario was a villain who could have minions? Yeah. Pidgit can fly here without a carpet at all, no foolin’! Is this part of the spell Wario put over his Woods? Is this why Pidgits fight for him? I don’t know! I think they just forgot.

They wouldn’t reappear until Partners in Time, and wow! This might actually be their only in-game reappearance where they actually ride their carpets! Which reminds me, do Pidgits make their own carpets, or do they get them from somewhere, or…?

I’ve never had nor played this game so I don’t know exactly how they act, but what I do know is that in the American version, they’re stronger and more likely to drop loot than any other version! That’s fun.

Do you remember 12 paragraphs ago, when you still had your youth and I said we’d get back to how Pidgit left an inescapable impact on the franchise? Well, that time is now, and that inescapable impact is the Lakitu!

“But Weirdma Rio Enemies dot Tumblr dot Com!,” you cry. “Lakitu debuted in Super Mario Bros., before Doki Doki Panic and thus long before Super Mario Bros. 2 was even conceived!” And on that, you’re right. But let’s look at an attribute unique to Pidgit!

You see, Pidgit rides a magic carpet, yes, but when it’s picked up, the player can ride the carpet themselves temporarily — after a certain amount of time, though, the carpet starts flashing before disappearing completely. Sound familiar?

Sounds a lot like Lakitu’s Cloud, if you ask me! While Lakitus have been riding their fair-weather friends since 1985, we weren’t privy to that same experience till long after Super Mario Bros. 2, in a little game called…Super Mario World! In a game which already has Pidgit, is it truly at all absurd to say it would have just one more reference to it?

So remember, in every game where you can ride a truculent terrapin’s silly cirrus, be sure to thank your local Pidgit!

…man, too bad we couldn’t segue into at least something about Tweeter, huh? First they were bought out by a rich muskrat, now this. Is there anything Tweeterheads get to look forward to?

the answer is ME!!!!!!

Hi!! I’m Mod Tweeter, and today’s post was written by none other than moi! It’s a real tweat and an honour to join the cast of Oddball Red-Cloaked-Daisy Critters, and I hope you will all enjoy my writings about more sillybeasts in the future!

For now, let’s close this post with a smooth songbird’s swingin’ serenade…

[year2000electronics]

OKAY HI HELLO I am utterly bouncing off the walls right now, your takes on Bill and Ford and the ENTIRETY of your lore and world building for your take on Reverse Falls is INCREDIBLE. Absolutely STUNNING. Seriously I never once thought of Gideon being the Mabel personality in that way before and now I can't unsee it thank you for helping me see the light. Will Cipher being a whiny little fuck is perfect.

ALSO. TBH. Your god-tier take on the Lords in Black combined with the bad end VRV guys altered my brain chemistry and I am SO curious as to why you assigned each of them their respective Lord. I can see True-Storyteller because y'know, the Bastard's Box™, and Leading Light being Nibbly because he's desperate & hungry for control, but very VERY curious as to your thoughts on the others (especially Overlord, him being Pokey is intriguing; how would he go about doing all of that?? Does he do the same musical thing like in TGWDLM or something else while still keeping the hivemind shtick?)

THANK YOU!! i’ve always really liked gideon as a character (he would be able to scam me i’m afraid) and i know that being raised by bud “hangs weird clown paintings in his house and pardon this garden signs outside of it” gleeful would ALWAYS have him being the strange little critter that he is just without the homicidal tendencies.. i believe this. AND ALSO PATHETIC ANNOYING LITTLE WILL CIPHER!!

i think for the lords in black- it’s been so long i don’t remember the specifics, truthfully a lot of it was based on colors and what i thought would look good, but for overlord i remember webby describing him as “hating every voice besides his own” and that reminded me of how overlord got on with his science team (not good). gvrv is wiggly because he is the leader and also it felt very in line for him to do wiggly things like making people stand in line for a wiggly their son might not even want. father time is tinky because he is literally the bastard of time and space. loverboy is nibbly because he’s hungry for more and Pink and i feel like hypnos was made blinky because purple and also he was the last one haha

[tech-sapphy]

the dndads brainworms won’t let me go and i’ve been listening to a lot of broadway these past few days while thinking about dndads. a dangerous mix for my emotions. that means i Had to write some fic (marloakworthy you’re canon and real to me)

also i hc hermie as genderfluid. so here’s a thing i wrote on a whim

-

Makeup is, generally speaking, something that Hermie is more than used to. Stage makeup was always necessary, after all, and so that was what they were used to doing.

It’s also why, when he, Normal, and Scary got ready for their date night, Hermie was thrown for a bit of a loop seeing how she did her makeup.

He watched her relax as she did it, even as she was explaining it to them. She opted for a pink eyeshadow, using some black eyeshadow at the creases of her lids and blending it down to make it all a little darker, giving it an ombré effect. She also started to add extra wings to her eyeliner, smiling as she did. It already looked good, but she liked it.

Hermie admired how she did it to express herself rather than a role.

Neither he or Normal could stop staring at her. She was clearly basking in the attention, but he didn’t care.

Normal was the first to speak up. “…Can you do some for me?”

His eyes were wide, soft, with hope. No doubt an excuse to get close - which Scary probably clocked, by her smile and eye roll.

“Whatever floats your boat, Norm.”

Luckily, she had colors more than black - so Normal’s look was one with some brighter blues and greens, and she gave him some eyeliner too, at his request, with less of a sharp wing than her own. Her hand cradled each of his un-made up cheeks as she worked, and Normal leaned into it.

It was sickeningly cute.

Hermie’s heart leapt in joy, seeing them be so sweet. It was also beating, fast.

He admired them and he wanted to be close to them too, but he knew his heart beating was partially him wanting to be on that makeup chair.

Don’t get him wrong, he’s dedicated to doing the right makeup for his roles…but he doesn’t have one right now, and he still finds that he wants to do some makeup anyways.

Maybe it could help him find who ‘Hermie’ really was.

“What do you think, Hermie??” Normal reaches out to him, grabbing a hand. Hermie holds it in return, planting a kiss on the back of it.

“You’re radiant.” Normal blushes.

As Hermie sets Normal’s hand down, he can’t help but glance down at the makeup still set out on the counter. Some colors catch his eye. He looks to Scary, who he finds is smiling at them. She almost looks away, but Hermie is inclined to ask his question before she does.

“Well well well, we can’t go out on a date together if we’re not all matching. Scary, if you would be so kind…”

Hermie picks up a compacted container of eyeshadow, one that caught his eye earlier. A dark purple.

Scary groans, but is all smiles. Maybe she’s trying to hide it, maybe not, but Hermie can tell she’s more than happy to do it. Especially since she quickly reaches for a tube by the sink.

“You guys are so cute. You need primer first, otherwise it’s gonna stain or it’s not gonna stay. And it’d be suuuuch a tragedy if it didn’t stay.”

Indeed it would be, Scary. Indeed it would.

—

For how much of a powerhouse Scary has proven herself to be, Hermie understands why Normal leaned so close into her touch.

She’s incredibly gentle as she holds his face. He admires her range.

He also enjoys the feeling of the makeup. The eye primer was cold - but the brush it was blended with was firm, warming it up quickly.

Then there was the eyeshadow. Hermie kept tapping at his knees, in rhythm to the music that was playing softly from Scary’s phone speaker.

He closed his eyes as Scary raised the brush from the compact, covered in purple. He also leaned into the hand on his chin, just a little- he didn’t want to mess up the angle too badly. But he was right across from the mirror, so he couldn’t quite help…

“Wow, you’re really good at this, Scary!” Normal exclaims.

“Yeah, well, it might be easier if you stop trying to open your eyes, Hermie.”

“Sorry, sorry, my dear. Shouldn’t try and get a glance before your masterpiece is complete, I know.”

Normal laughed and Scary huffed at the nickname, her bangs blowing up as she did.

“You’re lucky the eyeshadow is done, but we still need some eyeliner. Close your eyes, you dork.”

Affectionate as could be.

He’s glancing down at the liners she has laid out - there are two. Both are black, but one is liquid and one is a pencil.

Both she and Normal had liquid eyeliner. He wanted to match with them, right?

So he doesn’t quite know why he reaches for the pencil. But he does, and hands it to her. She looks a little surprised, but not opposed.

“Oh, sure.”

“Oooh, good choice, Hermie! I think that’ll look good with the eyeshadow! Y’know, since it’s a bit darker!” Normal points out.

Hermie closes his eyes as he replies, “Of course. As you know, I have impeccable taste in style.”

Scary snorts.

“Oh, how you wound me, Scary.” He responds, leaning into the hand on his cheek.

The pencil felt weird. Not bad, just different. Not quite as smooth, but not bad. Eventually, Scary’s hands left his face.

He opened his eyes to look in the mirror, but Normal turned the swivel chair around before he could.

“Normal, what are you doing?”

“Can’t look at the masterpiece before the artist is done, remember?” He grins.

Hermie sighs, just as Scary - also grinning - is applying some bits of blush to his cheeks. He probably won’t need it tonight, knowing his reactions to his partners doing so much as holding his hand (as much as he tries to hide it), but he doesn’t protest.

She then holds out some tubes to him. Lipstick and lip gloss.

“Want any?”

He’s… he’s only ever worn it for his roles. Only ever red, bright enough to be befitting of The Joker and Poison Ivy.

Looking at the labels on the tubes, there’s one that is bright red. He’s about to reach out to point to it when he sees it - it’s almost second nature.

But before he can gesture to it, Scary pulls them away, looking through them.

“Not all of these would look right with your eyes, though.” She picks through a few of them, Hermie hears her set some down on the counter. Over his shoulder, he sees Normal point to a couple tubes, but he can’t see what colors they are.

“Good eye, Norm.”

They both turn back to him, each holding a tube. Both matte, one of them is a dark blue that almost looks black and the other is a nude pink. It's one he recognizes as a color his co-stars often used in their stage makeup, a shade that wasn't too noticeable.

“Wanna do half and half?” Normal suggests.

“It’d look metal as hell.” Scary points out.

He likes that idea. He really likes that idea. So much that he almost wants to cry. He nods, and immediately looks up just a little bit.

To stop himself from ruining the makeup? So that they don’t see?

Either way, both happen as Normal and Scary each apply a color on his lips at the same time.

“No, wait, stop there Norm-“

“But hear me out, we could also do a different pattern!”

“No, we’re not going to do that.“

Hermie is tempted to laugh, but refrains, so as to not mess anything up. Their bickering makes him feel… comfortable. Content.

At home.

He’s never really known what that felt like. His characters never did, either. So he really has no frame of reference, nothing more than observations of his friends with their families.

But he suspects that this new feeling, of contentment and of his mind Not racing with thoughts and clever lines - just needing to do what he wants rather than live up to some expectation or role -

That might be what home feels like. He's not sure, but it's enough for him.

“Okay, ready for the final reveal??” Normal and Scary both hold one of his hands after they turn the chair to face the mirror.

He opens his eyes.

He looks different. So different.

The eyeshadow and lipstick are darker and give a bit of a shadowed look. The pencil eyeliner makes his eyes look softer than his partners’.

Both of whom are blushing. Normal squeezes his hand.

“You’re so beautiful, Hermie!”

“Like midnight.” Scary whispers.

Beautiful. Like midnight.

Beautiful. Beautiful.

It’s so… feminine. Hermie feels feminine.

He loves it.

Tears are welling up in his eyes, and he tries to look up, but a tear slips down his cheek. His partners swoop in at the same time.

“Oh no- what’s wrong Hermie?” Normal wraps his arms around him.

“Oh shit, what’s wrong? Do you not like it?” Scary squeezes his hand, running a thumb over his wrist.

She doesn’t even care that her hard work is at risk. She just cares about his feelings.

He’s overcome with adoration, at their reactions and at his reflection. It’s why his usual quick wit is completely out of commission, and he can only respond with a few words.

“I love it.”

He gets up and maneuvers around them, to bring them both into a hug. They’re both quick to return the hug, wrapping their arms around him. He can feel their hands link on his back. Normal leans into the crook of Hermie’s shoulder, and Scary’s drawing little circles on his shoulder blades. It’s reassuring, it’s grounding.

They had plans for tonight, but Hermie doesn’t want to let go.

For once in a life riddled with shit luck, Hermie feels like they’ve hit the jackpot.

[mercymermaid]

dark remains dark remains dark remains dark remains (spoiler alert)

my live reaction + ramble

GRIHERFGIUSEFHIUSVRIUGFESBUIVIUBGBIUVBVBJV

———

first off, live reaction, copy and pasted:

DARK REMAINNSS IGHGHGHGHGHGHRUTHGHFHFHF

okay they changed the actor for lizzy but that’s okay that’s okay

a little off-put by the voice-over for the stuff between songs but that’s okay

MATPAT SONG MATPAT SONG HE SINGS AFTON SINGS I’M OSIDBGGJKFKHHKJHGKUDFHGKUBHKUFDBHFKDBJDNKJDBNKJDNJ

“… or you can marinate to death in a trash can. Not even I can make that sound cool.”

GLITCHTRAP ISN’T INDESCTRUCTIBLE RAAAAAG

also the afton angst is wild not him singing about how insane he is

PUPPET TO THE RESCUE AUGHHHHH I MISSED POOKIE

“UNCLE WILLIAM REALLY LIKES RABBITS” THINK LIZZY TIHKN HONEY

also rip alexandra we loved you o7

i love just how non-canon this entire mess is this is an entirely different fnaf universe like dsaf

like alexandra and eggs (miyh and gz) sharing the Benedict last name, lizzy (wol) being afton’s niece but also being siblings with eggs, this is all such a web (of lies) i love itttt

afton being a psycho >>>>> “furry, one eye, RAAGAGAHAHAGFGDHEHAHSGD-👹”

LET’S GO SECOND CHAINSAW DEATH WOOOHOOOOOOOOO

NOOOO YOU CANNOT LEAVE ME ON THAT CLIFFHANGER FUCKT YOTURHUIUGIUBIRSLTgzre

———

anyway now my after-thoughts

dark remains (the song) actually slaps, i am so so glad they finally let matpat go true theater kid and actually sing (although his acting is genuinely amazing, he in actually one of my favorite aftons) (I’VE RUN ALL OUT OF PATIENCE TO TAKE IT ON THE CHIN, SO NOW THE WORLD IS PAYING FOR MY SINS is a banger fucking lie)

his part jumpscared me because he was the last person i expected to sing, also he sings a lot lower than i thought he would

still cackling about how he’s still on board considering that this is literally as divergent from actual fnaf as something like dsaf, but that’s the magic of it, it’s completely it’s own story

i didn’t really like how random encounters did voice overs for some of the speaking scenes but then the others weren’t voice overs? i liked it voice over-less but be consistent 🙏🙏

i really hope they bring back older characters for the last few parts, i wanna see eggs (cg5), nate, mark, and aj/purple guy in one room (yes eggs and aj are dead but it’s fnaf let’s be so honest)

actually speaking of the timeline is so confusing - is blood and tears and everything after that a prequel to the original fnaf musical? because isn’t the pizzeria burnt down and the animatronics work at the news place? i feel like this has been mentioned before and i’m stupid enough to forget (if this is true, we’re not getting any aj, nate, or mark content as their characters)

that would make aj’s death the second chainsaw death rather than the board director’s death

okay yeah no everything being a prequel would make sense since bb dies as well in the original musical, same with springtrap (btw poor guy didn’t deserve to be marinated #justiceforspringtrap)

the interview with alexandra was actually so sick she genuinely looks so asylumy, rest in pieces bro (i need to rewatch monster in your head)

lizzy bonding with bb tho 🫶🫶 wait until she sees what happens to him in the musical

that technician disguise was extremely realistic guys you guys are awesome (pls don’t hang yourself)

also the fucking “are you ready for freddy” and the stuff we’d pull with fnaf movie memes was amazing

that cliffhanger wants me dead and i’m not forgiving random encounters until they release the next part

time to go rewatch all the musicals and also the bloopers because those are the best thing on earth

[chaosduckies]

Rising Tides (Chapter 2)

A lot of you guys liked the first one, so I quickly wrote this one just to clear up the cliffhanger on the first part hah~ (Sorry not sorry) But, hope you guys enjoy because I really like these characters and plan on actually doing more drawings of them!

Word Count: 4.3k

CW: Mentions of death, Description of Death (Doesn’t actually happen), I think that’s it but if not you guys tell me!

2- Nico 

I didn’t know where I was going. The last thing I remember seeing were a pair of blue eyes and then nothing. Now, I was being taken somewhere in the fist of this giant freaking mer that’s taken me as a snack. How do I know? Oh well, what else feels soft and sort of squishy when you were just in a cave? A hand. So no here I was, in the midst of a panic attack while also trembling so much I was so sure that this mer kidnapping me could feel it. I mean, it wouldn’t be surprising. 

The water around me was moving, which was the only indication that I wasn’t going to die just yet. Were they saving me for later? There has to be some way out of this. I couldn’t stop the panicking thoughts in my mind. I didn’t want to die. At least not yet. I didn’t even know how long we’ve been moving. Hours? Days? Something like that. 

My tail fin was still torn, but I’d bet if I really tried I could swim. Just not as fast. Would it be enough to escape this mer? Probably not but it was worth a shot. I didn’t really get a good look at how bad the tears were in the dark cave, but I’m sure it’ll heal on it’s own in just a couple days. Hopefully. That’s if I can get out of here. 

I felt us stop moving, making me press my back into the flesh behind me and try to make myself seem smaller. Where were we? I couldn’t see anything but the purple scales that came from my own tail. 

“Haven’t seen you in a while-“ The voice stopped abruptly, “Want to explain?” 

“A shark was chasing a mer, I couldn’t be there in time before the shark got ahold of the little guy, and here we are now.” It sounded like a tired voice. It was louder too. I held my breath when the hand opened up, leaving me entirely out in the open. My eyes darted all over the place. There was a tiny little reef in an underwater ravine looking thing, along with some things that looked like another mer was living there. Just some feet in front of me was a mer just a little taller than a human, with a dark green tail, eyes, and dirty blonde hair that somewhat covered his eyes. Who was this? 

My eyes looked around, trying to find the face that connected to the mer that was still holding me (Oh my gosh please let me go I don’t feel so good right now-) But I’ve never seen a mer as big as he was. And that just made me all the more terrified. I was maybe the size of his fingernail, if I was lucky. 

Dark blue eyes were trained on me, instantly making me bite back the scream I wanted oh so badly to let out. I stuffed my tail closer to my side, tryin got hide that I was hurt, but I’m sure he already knows. But does he know how badly? Maybe I can somehow trick him? It was a long shot, but I’m pretty sure I could. 

The mer holding me looked away and turned towards the other mer that was studying me. I couldn’t help but catch the white tuff of hair in his brown hair. That was weird. Not the thing I should be worried about though. The green-tailed mer swam up to me, catching sight of my torn tail fin and sighed, shaking his head. 

“You’re not going to be able to swim for a long while, little mer.” He gestured for him to see more and I couldn’t help but listen. Why was this one helping? Did he have the big mer under control? Was he somehow controlling him into not hurting either of us? What was going on! Seriously! 

I stared down at my torn fin, seeing really just how much damage there was. Nearly all the thin pieces of skin were torn off, and the webbing was almost all torn up. Only a few small pieces remained intact. That explains why it hurts to barely even move it. But I won’t be able to swim for a while? How was I going to get back home? I doubt that either of these mers would help me out. It looks to me like the green-tailed one was just going to help me out a little, but he wasn’t going to entirely. I was still frail that the big mer would try to eat me. 

“Yup. This will take a while to heal. What were you doing all the way out here anyways?” The stranger asked. What do I even say? I don't’ even know why I was there. Because I saw something mysterious in the distance? Do I say that I was just exploring? Both were true. What do I say? 

My mouth quivered before whispering a quiet answer, “I-I just s-saw a sh-ship…” I couldn’t finish the rest of my sentence when  the big mer had his full attention on me like he could hear me. I doubt he would be able to. I was such a coward. No wonder everyone in the town wanted me gone. They would be all dead if I stayed and a mer his size came around. Though, I’m pretty sure this mer was huge even by other instances. 

“Hmm. Well, I can’t really help you heal up a wound like this. It’s just going to take some time. I would say for you to go home, but I’m sure that’s pretty far from here, right?” The green-tailed mer smirked, crossing his arms. I couldn’t move, but he already guessed the answer. I didn’t even know where I was. For all I know I could be an entire days travel back to home instead of the one hour swim it had taken for me to get to that reef. Not to mention I’m sure this big mer was going to end up eating me as a not-so filling snack. I shuddered at the thought. 

“Sorry, kid. You can’t stay here either.” Why couldn’t I just stay with him until I was healed and ready to head back home? I would prefer that over staying with the big mer that hasn’t said a word since he let me out. It kind of creeped me out. Plus it looked to me like he didn’t even want to here here right now. Yeah? Well neither do I. Actually, I wouldn’t even be here if he hadn’t taken me. 

“So… what do I do with him?” The big mer asked, looking kind of annoyed now. I was still trembling, but now would be a good time to escape. Now that the green-tailed mer was up close to the big mers face. Otherwise no one’s attention was on me. 

I forced myself up, noting that the skin below me didn’t seem to notice. I took my chance, pushing myself up and trying to swim off, but nothing. Only a burning pain every time I moved my tail, and I was back on the fleshy surface below, not even able to slightly move at all. I groaned to myself, realizing that even if I did manage to swim off, even if I stopped for a second I would slowly start flowing down to the sandy ocean floor. Great. Just great. 

The two were arguing behind me while I stared out into the deep blue ahead of me. There was nothing out there except for a few large rocks and large pieces of seaweed that covered most of the floor. I wasn’t going home. Not anytime soon at least. I was going to die. These people weren’t going to help me, and when I do end up getting better, I would just be eaten, right? The big mer probably thought that if I was hurt I wouldn’t taste as good. I trembled slightly, looking back at my torn up tail. If I hadn’t came all the way out here maybe today could have ended differently? Then again, they were right about my tail being the death of me. They all were. Wow. I really am unlucky. 

“Fine, he’ll stay with me until he gets better, but after that, he’s gone.” The bigger mer growled at the much smaller one, then I was wrapped in a tight fist once again. I’m dead. I’m so so so dead. 

———Callum——— 

Did I care that a small mer was literally going to die if I didn’t help them? Yes, of course I did. Did I expect to have to take care of them until they healed up? No, no I did not. Who knows how long that would be! I couldn’t see the damn wound myself, but from watching the little mer try to escape earlier it looked like he couldn’t even swim a foot away without his tail stinging him. Of course I felt bad, but why did I have to take care of them? They got themselves into this mess in the first place. 

I groaned, swimming back to the cave I’ve called home for a good while. It was surprise to wake up to someone screaming. I had thought it was just my imagination, but when I saw the shark- I thought something was up. Why was the mer even there anyways? Did he even stop to think that something else could be living in there? Or even if there wasn’t what if he was just cornered by the shark that looked about three times his size. Then he’d really be dead. He’s lucky I’m not some sick psycho who’ll eat him. 

To be honest, I really did feel bad for the little guy. I mean, if I were that small and something like that happened to me, I would be terrified. I can literally feel the slightest little tremble in my hand coming from him right now. I’m not a heartless monster like most mers my size. It’s just… I don’t really want to be around someone so afraid of me. Which was why I wanted Archer to take care of him and not me, but of course he can’t. 

After swimming back home for about an hour, I looked for a place the tiny mer could stay at comfortably. I decided on a small little platform with a little seaweed growing. There was some sand too and a few coral bits. I’m pretty sure there were some small little caves he could fit himself into as well. Not too bad honestly. 

I opened my hand, revealing a shaking little mer. I bit the inside of my cheek, tilting my hand slightly to let him down on the rocky platform that seemed all too big for him. I wonder what I looked like to him… Probably huge, intimidating. Exactly what I was expecting. Oh this is going to be a long couple of weeks. I would take him home, but I’m sure that would only bring him more problems if I just came to wherever small little community he was a part of and just left him there. Especially when I’m about 80 percent sure that tail of his doesn’t make it easy to talk to many people already. 

“If you need anything, yell. Don’t try swimming off, you’ll only make my job a million times harder. Otherwise, you’re stuck with me until you can swim on your own again.” I crossed my arms, looking for a reaction, but only seeing shock on the littler mers face. Should I get to know his name? No. There was no point when I’d only remember it as just another person who was afraid of me. 

I swam off, leaving the mer by himself. I doubt he’d try to swim off. If he did he’d just sink right to the bottom of the floor anyways. Plus, it wouldn’t be hard to track him. It’s not like I’m trying to keep him captive here, it’s just I’ve never done this before, and I don’t know who this mer is. I don’t plan on finding out either since this will all just be over soon anyways, right? 

I wrapped in on myself, going back to sleep since I was abruptly woken up. I can just go get food later… and eat away from the little mer. 

——————

A couple hours later I woke up, the water felt just the slightest bit warmer, which meant it was a little after midday. I should probably check up on the little mer. I wasn’t all too worried about him escaping, much less him getting himself into another situation, but still. Checking wouldn’t hurt. 

I swam, rubbing my eyes and yawning when I get to the spot I left him at, not seeing any sign of him there. I searched for a while, gently moving away some of the small stalks of seaweed and still not seeing the little mer. Wow. Did he actually try to swim off? I chuckled a little, but I was still the slightest bit worried. I brought my face closer, spying something purple hidden under a tiny rock. How the heck does he even fit under there? Oh well. I wasn’t about to rip off the rock he’s somehow found a little home under. If it makes him feel safe, then I won’t bother. But I still have to ask him something.

“Are you… hungry? Just come out of your little hiding spot if you are.” I watched for any kind of movement, but nothing. When was the last time he ate even? I guess I’ll leave him be for now. If he doesn’t eat anything tomorrow then I’ll just get him something. I’d hate for him to starve to death just because I didn’t get him anything. I feel like that would be the worst way to die in my personal opinion. 

“Alright. Don’t leave.” I ordered, swimming off to go get myself some food from my usual grounds. It’s been a while since I’ve eaten myself really. I kind of wished that he came out though. Just so I could get a better look at him. The only thing I’ve really noticed was his tail and just how small he was and that was pretty much it. Though, that was kind of my fault for just leaving the second I was able to. 

When I came back, no longer hungry, I saw something small sitting down in the open sand area of the little area. Oh. He was out? I was gone for a good while though. I swam silently, not trying to scare him. What was he doing? It kind of looked like he was just messing with something in his hands. A shell? 

He turned his head slightly, letting out a yelp of surprise when he saw me and rushed to go back into his hiding spot. My heart fell, but I knew this was going to happen. It’ll be over in about two weeks. Then he’ll swim off and forget about you, maybe tell this story to his future kids or something. I didn’t know what other mers did when this happens to them. Though, I doubt this specific thing happens. 

I didn’t say anything at all when I swam back in. I didn’t plan on talking a whole bunch. I’m pretty sure the little mer didn’t either. I’m only here to make sure he has everything he needs to survive, that nothing won’t try to eat him either.  

———Nico———

This was the same cave I was in not so long ago. Just a different part. It seemed more like an open cage where I was at right now. A platform that held a few tiny fish that somehow survived here, some snails, there were some small anemones, rocks, a seaweed patch. I also found some small caves I could fit into hidden behind some of the seaweed, but I didn’t really want to stay there. It really felt like a prison if I were being honest. Like he’s had other mers there before. The worst part was that he already knows about all the hiding spots, so if he were mad at me he knows exactly where to look for me. That’s always great to know. So, there was no possible way for me to get out. It would take me too long just to swim out of the cave, and even if I did, he could just track me down. 

I’ve already accepted my fate. I was going die here. Whether I liked it or not. My best bet was to just avoid him as much as possible, which I think I’ve done pretty well so far for it only being a couple hours. What can I say? I was terrified of dying, and that guy is pure death to me. I feel like he’ll just rip me up into pieces at any point, and that’s what really gets me. 

So here I was, hiding underneath a rock where he could very easily take it off. I’m surprised he hasn’t already. I’ve found that the place I was in wasn’t all that bad. It was comfortable, easy for me to move around. Not too bad, but I would really like to go home. I miss it already. I just want to go back to my little home inside the coral and sleep peacefully on the soft sand. What would my parents do when they realize anyways? No one would want to look for me. It was sad actually. What was I even supposed to here? Just wait to be eaten? I’m pretty sure that’s what was going to happen anyways. 

I recently found out that the big mers tail was a pretty dark blue color, which explains why he was so big in the first place. Most mers with a blue tail grow to be pretty big, but I’ve never seen one his height before. I think I’ve only really seen one where I was a little bigger than their fist, but this is an entire different thing. I mean, who wouldn’t be when someone fifty times your size was supposed to “take care of you?” How was that even possible? 

I crawled out of my little hiding spot, picking up the colored rock I had found earlier and continued to fidget with it. Everything would be fine… right? He’d let me go eventually. I wound’t be eaten, and then I can forget all of this ever happened. Oh who am I kidding? I was unlucky, nothing would ever work out for me. It always takes a turn for the worst. I sighed, too tired to even bother with going back into my hiding spot, and made myself comfortable in the sand. I just have to hope it’ll all work out in the end. 

—————— 

When I woke up, the giant mer was laying on his stomach, head resting on his arms as he stared out into the deep ocean. I tried not making a single sound as I pushed myself up, glancing over at my tail and seeing that it was still torn up. So it really wasn’t a dream. Or nightmare I should say. 

I held a hand over my mouth as I made my way to underneath that rock, but something caught his attention to make him look over where I was. He glared at me, watching me go still and hold my breath. He rolled his eyes before swimming closer to me, the fast and effortless movement making me dizzy as his face took up most of my vision. Please don’t eat me. Please don’t eat me. Please don’t- 

“Are you hungry yet?” I shook my head, not wanting to make him do extra work just to keep me alive. There’s also the fact that he might just want to to eat more so I taste better. Well, no thank you. I’d rather die of hunger than die while inside his mouth. The thought made me slightly gag, earning a confused look from the mer. 

He let out a sigh before swimming off, fast water hitting me in the face from his careless movement. Yeah… I did not feel good. Neither did that fact that I didn’t even know his name yet. I feel like I should know the name of my future killer. Wait- don’t think like that. 

The mer came back with something in his hands, dropping a few small fish in a pile in front of me. I bit the inside of my cheek, hard. I can’t tell him that I don’t eat fish. Then that’d start a new problem, which I can’t really afford considering the situation I was in. Then, he did something I completely unexpected. He propped his head up with his hand, elbow on the platform he had me on, and watched me with an annoyed look on his face, “I’m staying here until you eat. And I know you’d probably prefer me as far away from you as possible, little mer.” He smirked. 

He wasn’t wrong. 

What do I do? I was hungry, and I suddenly regret not eating that plate my mom made me the day before. I don’t even remember the last time I ate. Great. I don’t want to eat fish I though! But I have to unless I’m really about to just stay this close to someone who could swallow me whole without even trying- STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT! 

I pushed myself towards the little place under the rock where I currently call home, only to be stopped by a fleshy surface in front of me. I backed away so fast I’m surprised I didn’t trip over my hands. I heard a quiet chuckle above me, like he was having a good time. 

“Just eat. It’s not poisoned or anything.” I couldn’t help but catch the slight tone change. Like he actually sort of cared about me? I don’t know how to describe it, but it didn’t stop my heart from beating rapidly and my body start malfunctioning (Like literally I couldn’t move even if I wanted to it was too busy trembling so much) 

I scooted closer to the fish, a shaky hand holding one that was about the size of my entire arm. If it’s the only way to get him to leave me alone… I took a small bite, hating how the fish didn’t even taste bad, it’s just I don’t like seeing dead fish. I dropped the fish back into the pile, forcing myself the crane my neck up at the mer, who, for a split second, had a sympathetic look on his face before he just fixed his position. I did what he asked me to… could he please just leave me alone? 

Instead, he waited. I don’t know how much time had passed, but this guy is extremely patient. Doesn’t he have better things to do? Like… well I have no idea what he does but it’s obviously not waiting on some insignificant mer to eat something. I didn’t eat another bite, and I guess that’s when it clicked in his head. 

“You… don’t eat fish, do you.” He sighed, closing his eyes. At least I didn’t have to tell him. I didn’t do anything but hide my torn-up tail and fidget with my hands while staring at the sand. 

“What do you eat then?” I couldn’t answer his question. And I guess he realized that too because he just started listing off things he could find until I finally nodded my head. I was scared if I didn’t at least answer him like that he’d do something to me. So then he left, ordered me not to leave (Which I couldn’t do anyways but I still listened because I was scared of what he’d do if did end up leaving) I quickly glided over to my little makeshift home under the rock and stayed there, shaking. What would I have done if he didn’t realize that? What would happen if he wasn’t willing to wait? Would he just have eaten me there and then? I curled in on myself, mindful of the many loose pieces of thin fin on my tail. 

He came back a couple minutes later, dropping some kelp and taking his same position again, making sure I actually ate. It was uncomfortable, but I knew if I didn’t he’d just force me to one way or another. Threaten me. Yeah, I’m okay. No thank you. Instead, I ate what I could in case I wouldn’t get a chance like this again and watched as he just grabbed the rest and placed it somewhere. I hate everything about this. 

———Callum———

I wasn’t surprised that he didn’t eat fish. He’s practically on himself if he were just a tiny bit smaller… It’s sad to think about really. It wasn’t even that hard to gather any of the kelp, so I don’t know why he forced himself the first time. He could have at least told me. I didn’t mind going out. Then again, I didn’t exactly make that clear to him either. 

I left him alone like I had promised, watching him hide in the seaweed, but it was easy to spot him in the green with that bright purple tail of his. I found it to be nice really. It wasn’t really a hazard to me like other mers probably find it to be, but it’s really a nice color. I don’t think he thinks that though. 

Meanwhile, I tried to figure out just what I could do in the meantime. Usually I just go out and explore, but I don’t think I can just leave the little mer all alone for so long. Something might actually come, then I’d have to deal with that guilt. I don’t think taking him with me is an option, because I’m pretty sure he’s terrified of me and the last thing he would want to do is be around me. I sighed, looking back out in the ocean, feeling my eyes become heavy. This wasn’t so bad. Maybe I should actually learn his name. 

————————

Wowwww. Y’know, rereading this chapter, I don’t think I like it, but oh well. Yes, I know Callum is just sarcastic and hard to get used to, but he’ll warm up to Nico. And yes, he’s just taking care of Nico because he feels bad for not being able to help out in time.

Hope you guys liked it (I kind of didn’t) and I hope I can get you some drawings of these two soon! (I love them sm aghhhh) Thanks for reading!