#like yeah love finds a way....but would it have even occured to them without someone having done it first?

[bcatboy]

Gabriel, an angel in love with a demon, went to the angel who very famously also did that, for protection. It's making me emo that Gabriel, literally with nothing to go on, felt safe with aziraphale BECAUSE of his love for crowley!!! Thats what managed to survive the mind wipe: oh, aziraphale loves crowley, and so he is safe. Even when that was the original point of contention between Aziraphale and Gabriel!! He went to the bookshop because he KNEW not only that was where love lived, but where it would be PROTECTED and he was right!! 😭😭😭😭

[petew21-blog]

Revenge possession

Devon was your normal college guy, who also had a god like body on the other hand. His life wasn't very special in many ways. He had two brothers and one sister. All born in USA, moving the states a lot. All had an unproblematic childhood. Everytime a problem occured it would be solved by itself almost immediately or the parents would take care of it. Speaking of the parents I have to mention one tiny detail.

Their parents. How to put this? Their parents were a lovely pair, highschool sweethearts, very good looking. The only downside was that they were serial killers.

And that brings the story to me. Hey, I'm Jake and I was hitchhiking in California back then when Devon's seemingly fine parents picked me and then brutally murdered me in the forest. Kinda dark right? Yeah. I was a 21 year old guy with my life ahead of me and they ended in a few minutes just to have some thrilling disgusting moment in their life.

My ghost has been roaming the world for another 20 years. I was trying to find the family to have my revenge. But everytime I got close they moved their family to another state. That also included the problems the family didn't have. The parents would always eliminate the one who caused the problems.

But now I found them. Or atleast their children. Even though I had 20 years to plan my revenge, but I couldn't plan much. I was going through the house. The parents were on a holiday if I understood correctly. So I had time to find out a bit more about their life

I was exploring the house when I found Devon here, playing videogames in his room. He was playing just in his shorts. His shirtless body showed his tense muscles as he was getting really into the game

This could be it. I don't have to possess the parents. I could have my revenge from his body. And it would be kind of poetic justice. My life ended when I was 21, if I possess their sons body and take away his life it would be a perfect revenge. Of course, I would still have to interrupt the killing of the parents.

Now or never. Revenge awaits

I sunk into him. His controller fell on the ground, the inactivity making him loose. He was really tough. Maybe I should have practiced the possession on someone weaker, but I couldn't risk that I would stay in that body and couldn't get my revenge.

We fought for an hour. His body contorting on the couch, sweat dripping from everywhere. His socks wet. Fuck yeah! I can feel His feet already. I moved them. They were mine! This little moment of win gave me enough power to push and place Devon in the back of his mind. I could still hear him. He was begging me to stop. Begging to let go. But no. This is my body now.

"I... I am Devon" I said with a mischievous smile. I looked down at the sweaty body. My enormous arms searched the trail of sweat. I flexed them. I could feel how tired Devon got from the possession. Hell, I was tired.

But I had much to do. Revenge couldn't wait. Then my eyes trailed the abs I now possessed. "Maybe revenge can wait"

My new hand got very close to my waitsband. I lifted it up to find a beautiful uncut 8inch dick

"Daaamn son, you're packing"

I got hard and wanted to jerk off right there. This beautiful thing can't be left unattended. But I got really thirsty. The fight left Devon's body in a horrible state.

I went to the kitchen. The only cold thing I found was a can of beer. I chugged it instantly, my new mouth still not used to me didn't respond very well, so most of the liquid poured over my chest right down the trail of my abs.

"Time for shower"

As I was standing in the shower I was in awe and glee. So many years of wondering where my killers were. Years of being a ghost and not enjoying life. Now I have this amazing gift of a body.

As the shower sprayed water over my muscles I jerked off my hard monster with both hands. Furiously and pressing it hard. I hoped that no one else was home today, cause I was screaming in pleasure. So many years without orgasms. I felt Devon in the back of my mind trying to resist it. He felt the pleasure too. But didn't want to let go of the rest of the control he had.

"Don't worry Devon. I'll take care of your body. I don't wanna hurt you. I just wanna hurt your parents"

My big balls had to work overtime. I jerked off three times at that shower. Almost no hot water left for anyone else to shower, but I didn't care. I stepped out, not even cleaning the cum on the glass and the floor of the shower

I approached the mirror and with my hand scraped a hit of the fog on the mirror to observe myself.

Damn what a fine specimen I am right now. This is gonna be so amazing

"I can help you" echoed in the back of my mind

"Help with what?" I answered

Devon:"I can help you pass as me more easily to fool my parents so that you can get revenge on them. While you were jerking off I saw your memories. And I also know what my parents do. Or atleast I suspected it for a long time. Now I have proof"

Me:"So I am to believe that you'll just let me be in your body willingly and help me get your parents? How can I trust you that you won't warn them?"

Devon:"You can't. But I can offer you my body. We can share it. I always felt alone in my life and sharing a body with a likeminded person isn't such a bad destiny for myself. I really enjoyed the shower session. And if you give me a tiny bit o lf control I can show you something that you haven't done in your body back then"

I hesitated. All this time it was only about revenge. I never thought about what would happen after. Now I had an amazing body and I could do the right thing. If I would just possess him entirely I wouldn't be better than his parents. I would take his life from him just like they did with me. The co-piloting thing wasn't a bad idea. But what if he rats me out to them?

Me:"Ok, I'm in. I don't want to hurt you kid. But I can't let your parents hurt any more young guys like me. If they are on a killimg spree again we have to stop them"

Devon:"I agree. But they are coming back in a few days and until then, I can show you what you were missing"

I gave him control. He didn't fight, which was a good sign. And now he went back to his room, opening a drawer. It contained sk many sex toys I never even had a chance to know and feel

Devon:"Revenge can wait. It's time to have some fun"

[moonstruckme]

Idk if this is even enough for a request but I would love to see poly marauders w a reader who takes extremely hot showers, like maybe she’s already in the shower when the boys come home and they go to join her but start squealing and they jump back out, pouting at her about “it’s too hot! You’re boiling, you’re going to pass out in there” etc. I just think it’s funny and I love a good hot shower. (Bonus pts for plus size reader!! Not sure how that would be important but I’d love it if it was!)

Thanks for requesting sweetheart! I couldn't really find a way to make it plus!size reader without describing her body a lot but that felt sort of weird and I ended up cutting most of it, so unfortunately it's only plus!size reader if you squint a bit

cw: non-sexual (okay, some sexual, but it's only lightly implied) nudity

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 628 words

Steam whooshes out of the bathroom when James opens the door. The mirror is completely fogged up and he’s immediately warm, but that’s alright, because he’s shrugging off his shirt anyway. 

“Hi, angel,” he calls over the spray.

“Jamie?” Your voice echoes off the tile a second before your head pokes out past the curtain. “When did you get home?”

“Just now, but Sirius and Rem are already in the kitchen making dinner.” Well, Remus is making dinner. Sirius is providing commentary. “Can I join you in there?” 

Your smile comes quick and devious, water dripping from your chin. “Sure you can.” 

James hurries out of his pants and socks, pulling aside the curtain. “Alright, scoot ov—ah!” He hardly gets one leg under the spray before he’s jumping back. “Shit that’s hot! What the hell, lovie? Are you trying to cauterize yourself?” 

You laugh like he’s overreacting, which James knows for certain he is not. Steams pours out so thickly from behind the curtain it’s a wonder there’s any water left to wash yourself with that hasn’t instantly evaporated. “What’s wrong with a hot shower?” you ask. 

James doesn’t know how to answer that. “Hot” doesn’t even begin to describe the temperatures you’re subjecting yourself to. He hears footsteps in the hall, and a second later Sirius is opening the door, Remus behind him. 

“Did someone yell?” 

“Yeah, me,” James says, accusatory, “when I nearly had the skin scorched clean off my leg.” 

Sirius raises a single brow. “That scream was awful girlish, Prongs. You sure it was you?” 

“Prick,” James laughs. “Go on, feel the water. It’s like she’s punishing herself in there!”

Remus steps past Sirius, sticking his hand under the showerhead. His eyebrows raise, and he draws it back (albeit with much more dignity than James had withdrawn, but he’d been caught by surprise). “That really is quite warm, dove. I can barely hold my hand under there, how’re you doing it with your whole body?” 

You shrug, turning towards them, and it occurs to James that he and you are both naked while your other two boyfriends are fully clothed. There was a time where you would’ve tried to hide yourself from them in this state, and he’s hit with a rush of gratitude that that time has passed. Still, he doesn’t quite like the look of you like this, steam rising off your body as water that may as well be magma slides over your curves. James can’t believe you when you say that doesn’t hurt. 

“It’s nice,” you say, like some kind of psychopath. “I don’t know, I like it.”

“Sweetheart, you could pass out from heat like this,” Remus frets.

“Is it really that bad?” Sirius is skeptical, until Remus presses the palm that he’d held in the water to his face. His eyes widen. “Fuck, how can you stand that, babe?” 

“You guys are wimps,” you tell them, rolling your eyes. “It’s cold outside, and I fancied a hot shower. Sue me.”

“But this is more than hot,” Remus says. James nods ardently. “You’re really telling me you don’t even feel lightheaded?” 

“I don’t,” you promise, but James isn’t having it. He pulls the curtain aside, gripping the fat of your hip (“Fuck, Jamie, you’re freezing!”) to reach around you and adjust the water temperature. 

“There,” he says. “Let it cool down a bit, and you won’t melt your brain, plus I’ll be able to get in with you. Okay?” 

Remus nods satisfiedly, hurrying back towards the kitchen to attend to whatever he’s likely left on the stove, but you pout. “It’s going to be cold,” you complain. 

“I’ll be in there with you,” James reminds you, grinning when you brighten. “I’ll make sure you don’t get too cold, lovie.”

[moondirti]

Your ghostsoap x preg!reader!!??? I'm in love I need more of this. You have more thoughts for that universe? I just fell in love with your writing.

Let me camp in this corner of your blog, I'm friendly and don't bite (⁠~⁠￣⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠~

they're all i've been able to think about all day. of course i have more to say <3 if you're curious, anon is referring to this, which should be read before this part.

tags: DARK FIC. manipulation. vehicle tampering. planned abduction. pregnant fem!reader. established ghostsoap – who are not the fathers but would definitely like to be. mentions of somnophilia

Delusional as they might be, it's hard to justify something as egregious as blunt-force kidnapping. Though it briefly occurs to Simon – to pluck you from the parking lot and drive off the hour after they decide to keep you – the logistics don't iron out. Of chief concern, you're six months pregnant. What they'd typically use for POW's thus become's inconsiderable for you; Johnny's the wiz, but even he knows the effects chloroform can have on a foetus. The alternative isn't any better, either – his partner just balks at the idea of tying you up and throwing you in the trunk. (She'll never git ower it, Si. Dae ye want her tae hate us?)

So, things unfold in a far subtler manner.

They go home that night they first meet you. Can't coordinate without resting on it, they rationalise, without scoping their place to assure it's suitable for their soon-to-be-mother. They tuck away the knives laying on random countertops, air out the quilts gifted to them by Johnny's ma in an attempt to make their room cozier. And when they sleep, they dream of you tucked in between them, knocked out, sex-drunk. Dressed in nothing but a shirt, cunt bared for either of them to toy with throughout the night.

Hours upon hours later, well into noon the next day, Simon wakes to find his boy rutting into his thigh, still somewhat comatose, and sneaks a rough hand into his boxers to tug the tension out of the poor thing. They only get up as the fissures of dusk begin to spread across the sky, loading their car with a toolbox and making the drive back to The Dahlia, staking out in the parking lot as they wait for you to arrive for your shift.

(Johnny had deployed the old charm as you brought out their food in two baggies last night, disguising the trap with a lilting laugh as he audibly wondered why you picked up such a late shift.

You’d only shrugged and said you preferred to work nights.)

Sure enough, you pull up in a beat-up Kia at 2200, fussing with your bag as you stumble to the back entrance of the roadhouse.

"Forgot to lock it." He mutters, following your form until it disappears from view. Johnny only frowns, tightening his fingers over his thumb. A little nervous tick.

"Should we be doin' this?"

"And what is this?" Simon turns to appraise the scotsman, larger hand enveloping his, calloused fingertips smoothing over scarred knuckles. "Y'think they'd be kinder to 'er? The type of scum we know grace this earth? It's a wonder she made i' this far, Johnny."

He isn't convinced.

"Look a' me." Blue eyes widen to meet his, dark as their owner battles intuitions that have always been straighter than the Ghosts'. "Wanna give 'er a good life, yeah?"

"Aye. The best."

"Would she be so convinced?" But he knows the answer. They both saw the way you withdrew after being hit on, losing the effusiveness you initially greeted them with. Avoidant. Classic case of hyper-competency, perhaps the very reason you put up with such shitty circumstances to begin with. A stubborn knot they'll have to undo themselves.

And Johnny likes the challenge.

"Lass's got something tae prove." Moments pass in silence. Then: "Ah’ll get th' wire."

"Atta' boy."

They only enter the establishment an hour before the end of your shift. It’s 0600 and space is sleepy. At a point that had escaped their notice, someone had made the choice to shut the overhead fluorescents, and so all that functions to illuminate the dinette is the pale dawn outside. Johnny finds he prefers it like this, grumbling a tired endorsement, before branching off in search of the bathroom, hand rubbing the sore column of his throat.

The softening mass in his pants jumps once Simon catches sight of you, balancing two trays in one hand as you wipe down the serving hatch. He doesn’t need to say anything. You catch the dark blur of him in the corner of your eye, shuffling into a booth, where he occupies an entire side with the mere spread of his legs.

“Hello again. Just you today?” You’re twirling your pen, cradling your belly, and he notes the perpetual shadow cast under your eyes. Poor pet.

He shakes his head, then cocks it toward the loo. “Think he’ll have a go at the toastie today.”

“Good choice. Hard to fuck up.” You give him a tired smile. “And for you?”

“M’good.”

“You sure? Look like you’ve been on the road again, and-" You pause, the water of your eyes rippling as you appraise his mask. Something seems to click just then, because you nod and tuck your notepad away. “I’ll ask again at the end. Maybe you’ll want something to-go.”

In the end, they do take something to go.

Not as greasy as the toastie Johnny spends the hour tearing into, glossing the pads of his fingers with oil. Nor as sour as the coffee he sipped on last night, burnt and way past freshness, just like you’d warned them about. But a much, much sweeter keepsake. Something that’ll sate them for much longer.

You’ve already clocked out once they leave The Dahlia, faces grim but as innocent as they can possibly muster. Sure enough, you’re out standing by your car, wiping tears with the back of your hand. They’re close enough that they can catch snippets of your conversation on the phone (No, I don’t– and It is old but never–).

They wait until you grow desperate, hiccuping – Don’t have that kind of money. Please – before intervening.

“Hey. What’s the matter, hen?” Johnny approaches first, concern no faux thing, smoothing a hand down your arm. What Simon said earlier comes back around (Wanna give 'er a good life?) and his chest tightens at the sheer despair he sees etched across your face. You shouldn’t be this stressed about anything this far along, should have someone taking care of you.

He, they, can be that for you. Could give you everything you ask for and more.

“M-my car. I-I don’t– I don’t know what’s wr-wrong with it, and–”

“Shhh, issalright. Not starting, eh?”

“No. And I have to- to get home before… before–”

Simon steps in, crowding you against the side of your car. You don’t have it in you to look for the red flags; the glances they throw one another, the subtle crinkle in the masked one’s eyes as he smiles. No, you don’t– can’t consider it dangerous. Not when these two wonderfully kind men, who tipped you 100% of their bill both times they came in, are one of your only means of getting help.

“Where do you live? We’ll drive ya if it’s on our way.” A lie. They’ll drive you regardless, and you won’t be taken home.

“Oh- no. That’s okay, really. I’ll just a-ask my boss if I can get a sub on my pay, and–”

Johnny smooths a finger across your cheek.

“Nonsense, hen. It’ll be a skoosh.”

next part

[princessbrunette]

when did you know you loved me? pt.1 /4 ♡

for puppy!reader, being john booker routledge’s girlfriend meant asking random questions at random times. would you still love me if i was a worm? what would you do if someone tried to kidnap me? who would win in a fight between you and a shark?

what you loved about john b, was that he always had an answer. that was this thing — always having a solution, a plan A, plan B, it was all he knew, so he never had trouble thinking of ways to answer your innocent, inquisitive queries.

it was on a stroll through the neighbourhood, hand in hand when the question occurred to you. this was the first time you’d ever loved someone — so you wasn’t sure how it was supposed to work. sure, you’d said ‘i love you’ to eachother, many times — but you wasn’t sure if you could pinpoint the moment it happened. the moment you realised.

“i thought of a question to ask.” you swing his hand in your own as you walk carefully alongside him, careful not to trip on any loose tiles in the sidewalk like you’d done five minutes prior. you seem to have snapped him out of some thoughts, possibly a conundrum he was facing with the pogues or about some maps, but he seems happy to escape his thoughts — head snapping towards you with a small smile.

“yeah? shoot, pup.”

“when did you know you loved me?” you’re a little quieter today, perhaps timid to ask such a vulnerable question. as you ask he feels your eyes flicker up from your shoes to his hand, up his arm and then to his face. it wasn’t like you to be shy, not with him — which only filled his heart with more of that warm admiration.

“ohoho— that is a good question. one i actually, have an answer to.” he smirks, and you can’t help but grin, already feeling at ease. there was always a story with john b, it was never a simple answer.

“yeah?” you sound hopeful, staring up at his profile as you walk now, trusting him to guide you away from anything that could cause you to trip once more.

“uh-huh. i even remember what you were wearing that day.” he hums, enjoying the element of you having to draw it out of him, although he would have definitely have just told you anyway without any convincing.

“tell me!” you gasp with an elated giggle and he chuckles in response.

“okay, okay— but look, don’t expect anything crazy. it was uh… kind of a regular old moment? you know? like… you’re gonna be confused.” he nods as he gathers his thoughts. you come to a brick wall, one with chipped white paint, and pink flowers sprouting from the overgrown grass around it. you take the moment to let go of his hand and leap, clambering up to sit on top of the wall. instead of telling you to be careful like he usually might, he joins you — sitting side by side on the wall.

“okay.” you ready yourself.

“we’d maybe known eachother for…” he blows a puff of air from his cheeks as he thinks. “six weeks? you’d started coming to the chateau pretty regularly, kind of just showing up without an invite which i didn’t mind ‘cus you know, i was falling for you pretty fast.”

you smile, remembering what it was first like when you were getting to know john b.

“so… you’d fallen out of that tree. you remember? the one out the front, just… dropped right down from the branch. what you were doing up there, i don’t know, i mean i told you not to climb it, but there you were, climbing it anyway… and…” he rambles comically, gesturing you falling from the tree eliciting a small laugh from you, he trails off, thinking back on the moment with a softness to him. “you were wearing this cute little blue shirt and a skirt, and when i was patching you up i remember thinking how blue is like… definitely your colour.” he nods, and you find yourself mirroring his nod, so entranced in the way he speaks.

“anyway, uh — i was patching up your knee, and despite everything you still had your headphones over your ears. i gestured for you to take them off so, you know — i could ask if you’re okay, and uh…” he chuckles, shaking his head. “you said no. because your favourite song was still playing and you wanted to let it finish. yoooou and that damn walkman.” he shakes his head again in faux disappointment as you grin proudly, beginning to remember the day he spoke of.

only then he breaks out of his storytelling trance, turning his head to look at you from where he was staring ahead. “aaaand… yeah. love kinda just… happened? i know for a fact i knew in that moment that i was in love with you.” he finishes, his voice low and warm as he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars. john b was never one to shy away from affection— he was a loverboy at heart and this only proved it. you bite your lip, feeling your nose get a little runny like you wanted to cry. noticing this, john b smirks, tilting his head a little.

“what, too sappy? didnt wanna make you cry…” he jokes, reaching over to cup your cheek, swiping his thumb over it like he was wiping the tears that hadn’t fallen.

“it would be a happy kind of cry… because you make me happy.” you’re lost for words, but you swallow down the lump and smile anyway, kicking your legs on the wall with glee.

“well that’s good. i definitely like making you happy.”

[ghost-bxrd]

Been mulling over Titans Tower and it's really interesting to me how it's treated in Fanon as compared to how the events transpired in canon. it's a really fun topic! Honestly, the original writing in canon is DOGSHITE but not for the usual reasons people cite.

Here's what does make sense in canon but is largely ignored (this is using canon characterisations at the time): First, it's all about the whole Titans team, not just Tim. They really downplay his death a lot, did not put up his statue or honour him whatsoever. Plus the hero community tends to victim-blame him a fuckton. Jason is showing that his death could've happened to anyone. Second, Tim and Jason are just two yearish apart—Jay died at 15, Tim becomes Robin at 13—so those Titans are more like his colleagues than anything else; he's not some older guy beating the shit outta them. Third, Tim’s indifference to Jason's comments and his cockiness about being a better Robin are pretty on-brand for his early portrayal as Robin. (I think fanon Tim derives a lot of his characteristics from his Red Robin run, which is valid as well! But here in particular we have Robin Tim... who... was... uh... a bit of an asshole when he was written back then and the HUBRIS on that man? Immaculate.)

What still makes this absolutely dog shit is the dialogue and how Jason is pouring his heart out to someone who he doesn't really care about. Jason... just doesn't operate this way... Why's he trauma dumping on... tim... ???? It makes no sense whatsoever because Jason really is someone who'd keep those vulnerabilities to himself. Why would he open up to... CANON TIM??? He makes scathing remarks when faced with Bruce and Dick because he knows the knife twists then and at he cares about their reaction. But not tim ????? Canon UTRH doesn't even mention Tim ????? ???? So in the end it's still shit imo.

I also find the use of Pit Madness in fanon super interesting, despite it not being canon. It's used to propel the Titan's Tower incident, which fascinates me because it shows how people are willing to work around its flaws to maintain consistent characterization in their works (which is !!! cool !!)

It's so interesting how many other incidents that do occur in canon aren't as well known as this one aren't given much thought. But this one is and it's interesting how people try to work with it regardless of it's flaws originally!

I'd really love to hear your opinions about it and how flexible you are with the Titans tower incident! :) How do you work with your Jason and your Tim? because it's cool to hear your analysis etc etc

Hooo boi okay i was planning on replying to this earlier but this deserves a proper, thought out response (which I’m shite at but I’m trying here. Words are hard.)

For one, I wholeheartedly agree with the whole trauma dumping thing.

Obviously we all have different tastes in media and I know there are quite a few people who enjoyed the confrontation with Tim, which is totally fine, but personally… yeah, not my thing.

I got into the Batman/batfam fandom via fanfic, so my first introduction was some version of Titans Tower I believe. I was super intrigued by the characters and the tidbits of lore sprinkled throughout that I immediately began reading up on them and digging through the internet for more info and background story on them. Which then quickly evolved into the part where my adoration for Jason’s character began and a short phase where I absolutely despised early canon Tim.

Like— all the victim blaming. He seriously couldn’t mention Jason without adding something derogatory about getting himself killed, which sat so, so wrong with me. Not to mention the Titans just accepting a new Robin right off the bat and joining in blaming Jason for his own death. I’m pretty sure that was the point where I swore off comics for a long while and decided to live off fanon 🤣

And then Jason’s part in the Titans Tower incident. I think part of how weird the canon event was is due in part to how the writers fumbled to depict trauma? Or maybe they just outright hated him because I know a lot of people back then despised Jason and his run as Robin.

Whatever the reason, I think I genuinely cringed when he revealed the Walmart Robin costume he was wearing. And then the trauma dumping.

Jason is smart enough to know Tim wouldn’t care about his grievances. I mean- dude just broke into his hideout to attack him, I think Tim’s about as done with Jason as with any other criminals, regardless of his past. And all that is proven by Tim fighting back tooth and nail without pause. He doesn’t even react to the accusation of the missing statue in Jason’s honor. Like, he genuinely doesn’t seem to care. And why would he? They don’t know each other.

And yeah maybe he was trying to beat some sense into Tim (which is still wrong but— vigilantes I guess? Idk) and make him quit Robin, but Jason’s also smart enough to know that Robins don’t quit easily. And then, as soon as Tim is down for the count and can’t keep fighting, Jason leaves. Just like that. No actual murder attempt, no kicking-while-he’s-down (at least as far as I remember).

It makes no sense. What would Jason be gaining from that encounter? Why would he blame the kid that replaced him and not the guy that did the replacing? Hell, it would make more sense for him to go after the Titans than Tim. Not the mention him casually doubting Tim’s talents when he must have done some background checks on him.

It’s why I like the idea of Pit Madness I guess, and that Jason actually went to the tower with the intent to kill. Because that way the entire thing wouldn’t seem so… pointless.

As for how flexible I am with the Titans Tower storyline, it really depends on the route people choose to explore. But I’m a huge sucker for the “Jason was Tim’s Robin” trope where there’s at least a mild amount of hero worship going on. 👁️ Oh, and happy endings. I can’t deal with tragedies.

But yeah these are my thoughts on it. Obviously no hate to whoever enjoyed the comic mentioned above 💚 we’ve all got different things we resonate with after all~

[kitasgloves]

"Kiss Goodnight"

tracklist

— ♬ "I don't want to spend my life, life. Without your kiss goodnight"

— ♬ Sakusa x Reader, timeskip, SFW, fluff, fem reader, friends to lovers, no beta just Kiyoomi being terribly in love

For a long time, Sakusa Kiyoomi was accustomed to not caring about anything that didn't concern or affect him. All he regarded was volleyball, hygiene, and his health. He doesn't care about how others perceive him, he doesn't care about their opinions, and he doesn't care about getting along with people. Sakusa doesn't care about anything at all. But he wished someone would tell him why he still stops and stares every time you call.

He knows that girls like you, don't come with guarantees. But why does Sakusa bother lingering around you? Why does he often seek you in a room? Why does he make an effort to talk to you? And why do you have such a profound effect on him? Sakusa knows all he shared with you was friendship, but if you've got to spend your time, why won't you spend it with him?

During the period he met and grew to know you as the team manager, changes began to occur with him. Changes that cause concern and changes that he knows you were the cause. Sakusa finds his social battery persisting when you start talking with him. He looks forward to group nightouts when you're invited. And outstandingly, he sees crowds more bearable when he's close to you, especially when you take hold of his hand. During the evenings he'll walk home with you, seeing how near you get to him with each step, Sakusa hoped you and he would kiss goodnight before parting ways. If you think that it's right, he hopes you and him kiss goodnight. But, it never happens.

Not that he started caring about people, he just became less gloomy. Sakusa just learned to ease up because of you. He notices how he easily lets people approach him and how he doesn't immediately push them away. He can hold conversations longer and even crack a smile or two. Most of all, Sakusa becomes more confident in showing the world who he is. Because he was more than just a prickly-looking, serious-toned, and intimidating athlete. He was a man passionate about things he cared about. And it also involved you.

As subtly and quietly as he could, Sakusa cared for you in both minuscule and major ways, something so foreign but refreshing to experience. Offering spare wet wipes during lunch, holding the umbrella for you when it was raining or sunny, or even combing your hair back when you were throwing up during one of your hangovers. He never verbally expressed his affection because he believed his actions were loud enough. But will you pick those loose signals up?

Should you invite him in to spend the night on the floor? Sakusa realizes that he doesn't mind. How absurd as it may seem, especially from a clean freak like him, that he doesn't care about sleeping on the dusty floor of your bedroom if it means he gets to spend the night with you. If you prefer him not to, best believe he'll be a gentleman or you can show him the door. However, hope blooms in his chest when you take him to your room that night after watching movies. There was an unexplainable glimmer in your eye that blinded him in the dark as he sat on the foot of your bed.

"Kiyoomi?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to stay over?"

"Sure"

And you smiled at him. At that moment, he doesn't want to spend his life with anyone else. He slept on a cold futon but his body felt flushed with heat. Sakusa was peering up at you on your bed and you gaze back at him with a playfulness that makes his cheeks ache from grinning. 

"Good night, Kiyoomi"

"Good night, [Name]"

Sakusa didn't want to close his eyes without reaching over to kiss you on the forehead. The action makes you momentarily freeze but let out a giggle that makes his chest flutter. Why don't we kiss goodnight? Sakusa thinks. Though it might just end his life. But he's pretty sure that it's right that you and him should kiss goodnight. 

The longer he looked at you, the more it made sense. And over time Sakusa couldn't hold back his emotions any longer without spilling them to you. But call him delusional but he's beginning to see you returning his affections. His eyes feed him with encouragement every time he sees your smile wider when he's around, or how your voice sounded more tender when calling his name, or how gentle your hand felt on his arm. Even if the two of you grew more obvious, Sakusa needed confirmation.

Valentine's Day was naturally busy with couples walking around and special events made for lovers. There were promos for the team Sakusa played with that he had to deal with and exclusive events for fans, such as meet and greets. Sakusa couldn't wait for the day to end so he could shoot his shot at you while today lasted. After hundreds of talking and taking pictures with fans, Sakusa bolted into the showers and got dressed. 

"Oh, Omi-kun's got a date!"

"I bet it's [Name]-chan!"

"It is! I saw him asking her out after the meet and greet!"

Chatter filled the showers, and although Sakusa rolled his eyes, there was a tint of pink on his cheeks and a hint of a smile. He nods goodbye to his teammates and rushes to meet you at the restaurant he suggested. Sakusa arrives breathless but oxygen was even more severely knocked out of his lungs when he saw your alluring figure waiting for him at the entrance. For a six-foot man, Sakusa felt absolutely weak.

"You good? You're sweating a lot"

You tilt your head at him and he waves it off as he offers his arm for you to take before entering the restaurant. Dinner was filled with hushed laughter and exchanging dirty jokes. Sakusa thought how impressive it was that he didn't look away from you at least once and he finds you doing the same. It took all of his willpower not to lean over the table and kiss you then and there, not caring if he got lipstick stains on his lips. He holds back because he was reserving it for later.

After dinner, you and he strolled around the city with linked arms and intertwined hands. Sakusa couldn't help but stare and think a lot about your mouth, he wanted to shut you up so badly with his mouth whenever you talked. But he's not the type to be into making out in public. So, he clings on to the remains of his patience as he takes you home. He was about to lean in at your doorstep and kiss you goodnight, this time on the lips, but you stopped him with a grip on his tie.

"You should stay over"

Oh, Sakusa's heart skips a beat. You were not asking him if he wanted to stay over, you were telling him to stay over. And he agrees quicker than a blink of an eye. He shrugs off his coat and strips it into his underclothes, you brush your teeth and change into your sleepwear. But you both didn't plan on sleeping yet. While tucked under the covers with the television on, Sakusa gives you one look to find your eyes drooping, it was his chance.

You felt a pair of soft and eager lips on yours, enough to jolt you awake. Sakusa was kissing you and you sprung into action by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close to deepen the kiss. He hums into the kiss as his hands snake around your waist while he towered over you. The happiest chemicals burst throughout his body as you open your mouth to invite his tongue in, he obliges and steals a moan out of you. Feverent hands pull and grip each other close while in a liplock as you two pull away after what felt like eons.

"Kiyoomi..."

His name sounded breathless on your lips and his guts suddenly felt like mush. Then he leans in to steal a kiss, and another, and another until you laugh and push him away because of how greedy he is.

"I'm terribly in love with you, [Name]"

"You're lucky I feel the same way"

"So, can we kiss goodnight?"

Sakusa looks into your eyes and smiles when you roll your eyes before cackling at him. He was beyond glad now you and he can kiss goodnight. When you lean forward and give him a long smooch on the lips, he lets out a relieved sigh.

"I don't want to spend my life without your kiss good night"

He says and your eyes soften. As the television switches off and you both curl under the covers, Sakusa gazes at you with his onyx orbs filled with warmth as he goes to stroke your cheek before going forward one last time to kiss you goodnight. Your eyes shoot open and grin as you return the favor and it makes Sakusa's limbs feel like melting butter. Yeah, for the rest of his life, Sakusa needs your kiss goodnight.

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[hanaonesflower]

Iwaizumi finds himself looking at you, puzzled at the way you shy away from his touch. He doesn’t quite get it. But he doesn’t want to push. Hajime does what he knows how to do best; talks it out. Or he tries really hard to. Ever since he’s been more comfortable around you, his arms often swing behind your shoulders and his hands usually are intertwined with yours but he hasn’t stopped to notice that you don’t openly accept his touches.

“Honey, stop.” His tone far from harsh but it still manages to stop you dead in your tracks. You turn to see him, finding your lover standing a couple feet away from you, his arms unoccupied, flinching with the itch for wanting to hold you.

“Hi? Is something wrong?” Regardless of how it may seem, Hajime is not good with his words. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times only for hopeless croaks to escape his throat. He looks, sad. So, so sad. His arms are being brought up, holding out as if he is collecting a reward, well in this case the reward would be to hold you longer.

“Can you come here, please?” Oddly enough you don’t protest, you don’t try to question him. Instead you step towards him as if someone has possessed you, Hajime looks relieved, he doesn’t have to fight for it. Even though, we all know that he would. “Can you, can I — can you let me hold you, please?” Oh. Yeah. You think. It still doesn’t occur to you that Hajime caught onto the way you shorten every hug, halt every kiss before it gets too deep, shake your hand away from his grasp. Physical touch makes you feel queasy, and it is oh so unpleasant. The direct linkage of physical touch to sex makes you uncomfortable, feeling like each touch has to be accompanied by sexual intimacy. Why does it have to be like that?

Once the distance between you decreases he quickly pulls you close, wraps his arms around your torso tightly. Afraid of losing you.

“D-don’t pull away just yet, okay?” You stay, without saying a word. Hajime doesn’t say much either, it doesn’t take long for your breathing to sync with one another. It was peaceful, tranquil. His hand instinctively travels lower towards your waist, and just like clockwork, you pull away, resisting the strength of his arms. You should have known by now that Hajime can rage storms with his eyes but shut them down just as fast with the way his arms bring so much peace.

“Why?” He asks. This isn’t a normal look for Hajime, he looks like he is on the brink of tears. And you feel yours begin to pour. He doesn’t deserve this. You don’t get to treat him like this. Poor boy just wants to show you what genuine touch feels like and you refuse to give him a chance. “Why can’t I touch you? Why can’t I hold you?” He feels so bad. Hajime tries to rethink about all the things he might have done that led you to feeling unbearable being held by him.

Resolve crumbling at your feet. Physical touch is his way of expressing his love, it’s always something that has always bring him comfort, stability, it has grounded him in many situations. He wants to feel close to you, but he has never felt so far away. It feels like a part of himself is always missing, hiding within you. This is cruel. This is isolating.

Without saying much you crouch to reach him, arms wrapping his shoulders, snuggling your head in his neck, situating in its rightful place. You two don’t share much words in this moment, not much is needed to be said anyway. The way he’s breaking down, longing so badly for the touch of his beloved, so much it hurts. The way his neurons fire, sending chills down his back and the way his skin heats up at the moment you make contact. You hold him and you don’t let go. You stay until you both are spent from the tears you shed. “I’ll hold you like this forever if I could, Haji, I’m sorry.” You believe that you finally get it now. Physical touch doesn’t have to feel evil, it can feel just like this. His hands find your torso again, timid, but he’s willing to try. he sighs into your touch, so relieved to be reconnected with the part of himself he once relinquished to you.

[junedenim]

how the night was supposed to sound

party clean-up isn't an easy task to focus on

warnings: smut, fingering, piv, blowie, etc.

word count: 2.4k

You trace patterns in condensation on the coffee table from someone’s beer. You want to go to bed but a few party guests have overstayed their welcome, which is saying something for you and Alex. He doesn't seem to be as peeved with it as you are. The hour is nearing 3 AM and the housewarming party tittered more on a rager than you would've liked. Alex will take the blame for it. He's kind like that but also these remaining party guests belong to him and they aren't even the fun ones.

You lean your head on the palm of your hand, placing the pressure on your temple as you listen to drunken yammering.

Alex places his hand on top of your shoulder. He rubs down your shoulder blades and watches your eyes focus on the tabletop. "You can go to bed if you want," he whispers. You're unsure why he's accepting this long-winded rambling but they are his friends you've never met so you won't push.

You shake your head and sit up straight against the couch. You look up at him like some god, his body looking down on yours. You place your hand on his knee. "No, I'll wait. I don't want to go to bed without you."

The corners of his mouth turn up. “Is that so?”

You kiss his denim-covered kneecap in hopes of seducing him to force these overstaying guests out. “The hours roll on,” you say.

Alex stands up abruptly, cutting off whatever slurring monologue was occurring. "We've got an early morning here. Why don't we pick this up over some drinks later this week?" The guests are too far gone to remember this plan so Alex likely won't be following through on drinks later this week.

He walks them to the door, of course, it takes longer than you would have hoped, but he's eventually able to shut the door behind them and quickly make his way back to the living room. You're still sitting on the floor, drawing in the condensation. The house is a mess and if a housewarming was meant to result in the destruction of said newly bought house, Alex would've called it something else.

But you're still glowing amongst the chaos. The slip dress you're wearing only stuns more in the darkness of the early morning. Dirty paper plates and empty glasses sit around you and it's like finding a diamond in a junkyard. He should clean up the mess but he'd rather go to you.

Alex walks over and reaches a hand down to you. "Bed?"

"Come here," you urge, wrapping your hand around his wrist, and pulling him down by his hand. He responds and sits beside you between the couch and the coffee table.

"Yes?"

You smile and turn to him. "Hi." Sometimes you like to see how much he'll do what you ask him. He's like a dog doing tricks for a treat.

"Hi." He's so cute in his jeans and a grey T-shirt with strands of hair falling perfectly. Sometimes you think he's fake. Like a wax figure or some statue or a vision that if you reached out to touch would fade away. But you test the waters and place your hand on his cheek. Still real. "Are we—"

He’s cut off by your kiss, and it’s only a heartbeat before he melts into it. Your fingers curl around his shirt and you open your mouth against his mouth, feeling frantic with want, feeling electric when and where he touches you, hands warm and rough, smelling like cigarettes and stale beer. You pull him down on top of you and promptly smack your head against the corner of the coffee table. “Ow,” you say as you part from his lips, laughing and wincing, “ow, ow.”

His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, feeling. He’s smirking. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, and close the space between you, wrapping your arms around his neck, all squeezed in the tiny crevice on the floor beside the couch, not even caring, not wanting to be anywhere else. He mouths at your neck and your eyes flutter shut, fingers raking through his hair, all soft and dark. It's easy to love. His touches, his pulls, the way it felt when he kissed your neck, the way he always knows exactly how to hold you. You touch him back, kissing him, hooking a leg over his hip, and running your hands up the divets of his spine to make him shiver.

“Y’know,” he says slowly, nudging your cheek with his nose and then kissing it in quick succession, “we have a bedroom now.”

“Yeah,” you say, half a moan because of where his hands are right now, “but we haven't christened this part of the house."

Alex hums, kissing you with a smile. “Surrounded by the mess?”

He's kissing down your neck. “We should clean it up."

"Later," he mouths against your jaw.

You push him back. "At least get all the food put away. We don't want mice."

He sighs and pulls back, tense, half-hard, and exhausted. As much as he doesn't want to, when you stand up and reach out your hand, he accepts.

*

He gets distracted easily.

The new piano is calling his name. It possesses him and he's playing with the keys before he knows it. You're in the other half of the house when you hear it but it raptures joy in you.

You watch him for a moment at the archway to his music room, holding a half-empty bottle of Dom Pérignon by the neck. His fingers are careful and sure as they stroke the keys, and there’s something pensive about his expression. You can imagine him coming down here late at night after you're asleep and composing dreamy sequences instead of dreaming himself.

You give up on your quest to tidy up. It's late anyway.

You drop onto the bench beside him, kicking off your heels. He stops at first until you tell him to keep going. He runs through the rest of the song until it tapers off into scattered notes. “Sorry. Got carried away."

You wrap your arms around his body, playing your fingers along his ribs. "That's fine. I love hearing you play."

“Bed now?"

You tug on his shirt instead of responding and place your hands on the warm skin of his tummy, and when he kisses you it’s a hungry rabid thing, it’s need to your want, it’s your giving and him taking, taking, taking.

You end up on the floor with a dangerous urgency. You manage to pull his shirt off and feel your way up his bare chest, massaging the hard ridges of muscle. He shivers when your hands get lower. He pulls your head back a little, hand fisted in your hair, but it’s not the kind of rough that hurts, it’s the kind that you didn’t even realize you were craving. He's always perfect at predicting that kind of thing. His mouth is soft against your neck but it leaves bruises, and his hands slip up the skirt of your dress, and it's like there's no time left in the world. His fingers hook around the lace and pull it to the side.

His fingers are inside you before you can even take a breath. You're hooked on him as he moves his hand in and out of you. You hold onto him tightly just to have a hold of something. He's rapid but always clear in his touch. Everything around you is in disarray but his movements, pace, and the pleasure he brings are always clear.

“Alex,” you manage, almost hazy. He holds you down on your back while he does it, pushing against every search for friction, your head falling back and your hands in his hair as he kisses the hollow of your neck. You're shaking with the aftershocks and dizzy on the comedown.

“Okay?” he asks, a ragged thing, all dark and settled between your legs like something that belongs there.

You laugh and nod. You can’t quite remember how to speak, managing a small, “Uh-huh,” before pulling him back down. It's like there isn't even enough time to pull his pants down. There's the rattle of his belt and a slight yank on his underwear before he's inside you. Your hands slap onto his back, imprinting crescents into the skin. Your back arching, chest to chest as he moves against you, hands on your body like he owns you, and you sort of love that, and love even more the way he keeps going like he never wants it to stop. He moans against your lips, all loud and obscene.

You grip around him inside you, savoring the feeling of pressure, of being completely filled by him, and he’s making so much noise, panting and moaning like he can’t control himself anymore. He keeps thrusting into you, fucking you into those mahogany floors you loved so much about this room.

You whine nonsense, you shove your face against him, your forehead against his collarbone. It's too much and you're coming and he's still going and you feel like you'll never finish. That you'll just keep doing this forever.

When he comes, he groans, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He can barely breathe and neither can you. He falls on top of you, exhausted.

And for a moment you lay there and you think he might fall asleep, and you like the way he smells of sweat and sex and you. Alex slowly and carefully pushes himself up. He looks down at you with no small amount of concern. “Good?"

You smile to yourself, then to him. "Good."

You turn your head and kiss his inner wrist, his hand cradling your head, and rests the crown of it against his pulse point while you recover.

Alex moves back down slowly, not wanting to put all his weight on you. He kisses you, a desperate kind of kiss, and he tries to pour everything into it. Eventually, he pulls away, and there’s a smile working away on his face when he asks, “When do you think you’ll be ready for more?”

You laugh. “It's bedtime.” He rolls off of you onto his back. You prop yourself up onto your elbows and watch him breathe in and out, chest rising and falling. "We should probably get up."

"Yeah." Neither of you make a move. Your head pillows on his chest, listening to the thumping of his heart in his chest which grows, steadily, slower. Your eyes flutter shut as he runs his fingers through your hair, idly playing with it, curling strands and letting them loose again, his thumb grazing your temple.

He gets up carefully like Bambi on ice. Your eyes are closed but you feel yourself lifted in the air. When you open them, you're eyeing his chin. "You gonna carry me through the threshold?"

"Uh-huh," he says. His voice is quiet and tired. You think about teasing him but his eyes are fluttering and you feel guilty over his sweetness in carrying you. If you could, you'd carry him. But, for now, you'll indulge in his sweetness.

*

Come the morning, you wake up in his arms. He tries to be gentle in extracting himself from you as he gets out of bed but he sees you blinking and he savours the sight of it, greeting, “Morning.”

You turn your face into a pillow. “Five more minutes.”

He kisses the top of your head and whispers, "Okay. Go back to sleep."

It's early with the sun still painting on the horizon. It's orange and yellow flooding in and he shuts the curtains tight to keep the light out of the bedroom. He starts picking up the messes still scattered across the floor, the waste floating in the pool, and tries to scrub off those beer stains on the coffee table.

Alex has finally gotten around to the kitchen when you've arisen, dressed in his old T-shirt and boxers. That part of his wardrobe has become shared between you two. Not that he has ever minded. How could he? Your hair in two spilling braids and the cat socks on your feet.

"You cleaned up?" You ask.

He's grinning and observing you as you sit atop one of the marble-topped counters. "Yeah, just the kitchen left."

"Do you need help?" You twirl the ends of your braids.

"No, I'm almost done."

You slide off the counter and take the broom leaning against the wall. "I can sweep."

He doesn't fight you and lets you move across the floor. You move over to him and kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you for all your hard work."

"Course." He smiles down at you and you prop the broom up against the counter. You kneel down and fiddle with his boxer's elastic waist.

"Can I thank you?" You look up eagerly. He just smiles wider.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head closer, lining your mouth up just right, and so you wet your mouth with saliva, licking the tip before letting him sink completely into your mouth.

Alex groans as he nearly hits the back of your throat. You push yourself down and pull yourself up. You look up at him through your lashes as if to ask whether or not you’re doing a good job. He groans, again, his grip on your hair tightening, his hips bucking, his body tense and trembling. You grab the shaft, stroking it while you keep sucking on the tip. He leans his head back, panting, his hips rolling towards you in tempo, and you take him out of your mouth.

You keep stroking him with your hand, gently. Your mouth hangs slightly open like you can’t wait to devour it again. You look up at him, innocently, as though you weren’t aware of what you were doing, and a smirk spreads onto his face. You wet your mouth with saliva again and glide your tongue up the length, leaving a sloppy trail of drool all over before taking him between your swollen lips again.

The huffing sounds of his breath and the slick noises of his cock going in and out sound through the room and then he’s twitching inside your mouth. His body is squirming in front of you, and his cum fills your mouth.

You pop him out of your mouth and look up at him, blinking and his lost eyes looking up at the ceiling. You sit back on your feet and lean your hands on your knees, waiting for his eyes to meet yours. His hands grip the counter and he leans his butt against the drawers. He finally looks at you, still panting, and grinning.

"Did you make coffee?" You ask.

He chuckles. His thumb brushes your bottom lip, wiping away the drool on your lips. "Yeah. Did that get the energy out of you?" You stand up and take down your mug, pouring yourself a cup.

"Yeah, I'm just so tired," you whine as you sit at one of the island counters.

"I'm guessing you're done cleaning."

You sigh. "Hey, I swallowed."

*

a/n: welp! i just whipped this up real quick. i have something big coming, it's less smutty, but i'm really proud of it. okay, thanks!

[cyberjam]

THE ANGEL AND THE DEVIL | tangerine x reader

headcanons based off of this request on tangerine being the absolute softest boyfriend to his absolute sweetheart of a partner.

warnings - a little suggestive(?), mentions of violence

word count - 3.8k

song - no ordinary love - sade ⌁

main masterlist !!

tan - 🍊 | lem - 🍋 | you - 🍑

- HOW YOU MET -

- it's very cliché, but you two met at a café.

- it was exceedingly early in the morning.

- you usually didn't work this late (or early). your shifts were usually in the middle of the day, when the sun was shining brightly and the customers would pop in to work on their own separate projects.

- and you would've been working that shift, if a coworker of yours didn't ask you to fill in for her.

- you agreed to do it without a second thought, you were always pretty fond of helping people out whenever they needed it.

- just to see them smile in relief or to hear them praise you for being a 'saint' always made you feel warm inside.

- the harsh rainfall that occurred outside didn't bother you a single bit. you enjoyed the rain more than sunny weather, just the sound of the repeated pitter-patter beating against the window like an angelic tune soothed you like no other.

- you didn't really expect anyone to come into the coffee shop this early in the day, especially with how harsh the weather was. so, you were rather surprised to see a regular customer and what you assumed was his counterpart, enter the shop.

- lemon had become a regular after trying a slice of banoffee pie.

- you liked his name, you thought it was sort of silly to see such an intimidating man rock a name like lemon.

- you expressed your love of his name to him one day and he ended up giving you a nickname himself.

- "lemon, hi! it's so nice to see you. - 🍑

- "mornin', peach. this's ma twin brotha', tangerine." - 🍋

- you didn't admit it out loud but as soon as you made eye contact with him, you felt your stomach erupt like a volcano and your cheeks started to get warm at the sight of him.

- "hello! s'nice to meet you." - 🍑

- tangerine paused for a moment before gently nodding at you.

- to say he was caught off-guard by your gorgeous smile and kind eyes would be an understatement.

- he felt robbed.

- he went his entire life without knowing who you were and now that he's seen you he doesn't want to look away.

- you captivated him to say the least.

- "im guessing you'll have the regular?" - 🍑

- "yeah, but make it double." - 🍋

- as you were fixing their order, lemon and tangerine engaged in a small convo.

- "thas' peach, yeah?" - 🍊

- "yeah, real sweetheart'. makes the best banoffee pie. next time we come you outta try it." - 🍋

- tangerine only hummed as he kept his eyes focused on you. he couldn't really understand why you were so captivating to him.

- your aura was just so...soft and alluring.

- and your voice was simply just enchanting.

- it made him sick.

- he just met you, and there barely was any introduction.

- he shouldn't feel so…..entranced by you.

- he doesn't want to feel this way about you.

- just one look at you and he could tell that you were the type of person to burst into tears if someone even slightly raised their voice at you.

- how pathetic.

- you weren't soft or alluring to him. no.

- you were weak.

- he felt pity for you if anything.

- there was just no possible way he could be attracted to someone so...feeble.

- right? ..

- THE CRUSHING STAGE -

- he'd constantly tell himself that you're just some pathetic cafe worker, that held no importance to him.

- yet he can't seem to find the will to stay away from you.

- ever since he saw you behind that counter for the first time, an unfamiliar flutter started to thrash around in his chest and stomach.

- that feeling that he hated oh so much, only came around when he saw you.

- he despised you for it.

- but he also despised himself for not putting a stop to his visits.

- he could've easily gotten lemon to start picking up their orders once again, but then that meant he wouldn't be able to see you.

- and the urge to see you was too strong for him to resist.

- his thoughts would constantly scold and taunt him as he'd make his way to the cafe you worked at.

- his mind was telling him no, and saying that he should stay away from you. but his heart and body were screaming at the top of their lungs. begging and pleading to be around you.

- even if it was just for a small fleeting moment.

- sooner or later, you began to notice a spike in visits from tangerine.

- usually it'd just be lemon.

- but after you met tangerine, you started to see the both of them.

- and then it eventually just became tangerine.

- even though you missed the playful banter you and lemon would have, being able to see tangerine nearly everyday had to have been one of the sweetest treats you've ever received.

- tangerine was a bit more gaudy than the men you usually took an interest in.

- he was a rude and violent individual.

- there'd even be certain times where you'd cringe whenever he'd enter the shop.

- with the way he spoke to people you'd think he was completely nullified of any type of manners or emotions besides anger.

- until he started interacting with you.

- he'd talk to a random customer like this:

- "just grab ya fuckin' donut and go, ya cunt." - 🍊

- but as soon as he arrived at the counter and made eye-contact with you, his entire demeanor would change.

- " hey, how ya doin', love?" - 🍊

- his tone was completely different and his deeply furrowed eyebrows that were usually partnered with an annoyed frown were now nowhere to be found.

- it always made you feel more giddy than usual to see him turn on such a sweet persona for you.

- the interactions between you two were always fairly quick.

- greet each other, give him his order, and then send him off with a friendly wave and shy smile.

- it was a rather simple exchange, but it never failed to make your heart flutter.

- after a short while you'd start writing encouraging words on their to-go cups with a cute little animation on the side, hoping to brighten their day.

- have the best day today!! ♡ৎ(˶ ⍤ ˶)

- see you next time. this one was made with extra love! ૮ ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ ა

- i loved that tie you wore last time! blue looks nice on you. ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎

- i hope lemon is doing well, i don't see much of him anymore. tell him i said hi. (๓´͈ ˘ '͈๓)

- on a particularly empty day in the cafe, tangerine decided to approach you about the sweet messages you wrote.

- "if i didn' know any better i'd think you were flirting wit' me." - 🍊

- you were embarrassed, because in a way you were.

- "i just thought encouraging words could be a helpful pickup for you." - 🍑

- before tangerine could reply, a man quickly rushed to the cash register that you were in front of and started shouting at you.

- "i told ya' 'm 'n a fuckin' rush! stop yer goddamn chit-chat and make my fuckin' order ya lazy harlot." - #!

- you were embarrassed. it wasn't the first time someone had talked to you like that, but the man said that in-front of your favorite customer, a person that you had taken a romantic liking to.

- "ah, im so sorry, sir. i-." - 🍑

- but before you could even finish your sentence, tangerine had already grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and had his face smushed against the counter top.

- you jumped back in shock, letting out a little yelp of fear as you brought your hands up to cover your mouth.

- "apologize to the lady and i won't beat ya' to a bloody pulp." - 🍊

- his voice was eerily calm as he held the man against the countertop.

- his eyes were blown wide open, a burning ferociousness present in his irises as he held the man against the countertop.

- "i-im sorry. please, jus' let me go." -#!

- the man's voice cracked and drool dribbled from his mouth as he was being held against the counter top. his once pale skin started to turn pink as he pathetically whimpered out apologies.

- tangerine looked towards you, his once burning gaze softening at your frightened stature.

- "you accept 'is apology?" - 🍊

- you froze before quickly nodding, afraid that if you spoke up, you'd stutter.

- that's all it took before tangerine released the man. his hands that were once forcing the perpetrator against the countertop were now fixing the cuffs on his suit.

- the stranger didn't even look at your face once he was released from tangerines hold, he immediately ran out of the cafe, leaving his money and food behind. (as well as a bit of dignity. if he had any left)

- tangerine grabbed a napkin that was nearby and wiped the drool off the counter, he even started picking up cups and stray napkins that fell off the counter top from the aggressive dispute.

- "you-um, you didn't have to do that." - 🍑

- he paused in his steps and stared at you for a brief moment.

- having him look so deeply into your eyes made you weak in the knees and slightly fearful of what his next move could be, in that moment you simply regretted speaking.

- "and just let 'em talk to you like that?" - 🍊

- he scoffed before shaking his head, throwing the used tissues away and leaning against the counter top to get closer to you.

- you lightly flinched as he reached his hand towards your face which made him 'tsk' at your jumpiness before cupping your cheek and wiping away a stray tear.

- "pretty girls like you don't deserve to be treated that way." - 🍊

- you didn't even realize that you were leaning into his touch until he brought his hand away.

- "have a g'day, peach." - 🍊

- you were awestruck at the events that occurred in the past 5 minutes, but as soon as you were able to recollect yourself you had decided then and there that you would show your appreciation for him the next time he came.

- and what better way to show your appreciation for someone other than baking them a tasty dessert?

- even though tangerine seems like the type of person to not like sugary things, you still ended up looking for a sweet treat to make him.

- and after some research you decided on making him a sizable amount of tangerine pudding. (in homage to his name.)

- you went to work earlier than usual to get started on your little project.

- the thought of making a new dessert that you've never tried to make before thrilled you, but the thought of making it as an appreciation gift for someone made it much more exhilarating and meaningful.

- it took a while to make it, but after a few failed attempts and small breaks to gather yourself, you had accomplished your goal of making one of the most perfect tangerine puddings imaginable.

- you were so happy and proud with your work, your excitement was almost able to erase any type of nerves you had.

- after admiring your work for a small moment you took a glance towards the clock and noticed how it was getting closer and closer to the time he'd usually arrive.

- once you fixed their usual order and put the pudding in the mini fridge under the counter that you were at, you patiently waited for tangerine.

- you didn't have to wait long, because just like clockwork, tangerine entered into the shop at the same time he usually did, looking as dashing as usual.

- you waved at him with a giddy smile, he returned a small genuine smile of his own while adjusting the lapels on his suit.

- "g'morning tan! i-uh, i made something special for you. i wanted to thank you for sticking up for me yesterday. i really appreciate it..." - 🍑

- you slid his usual order over to him before grabbing the pudding out of the mini fridge and setting it in front of him.

- "i don't know if you like sweet things, but i made you a tangerine flavored pudding." - 🍑

- tangerine couldn't help but let his once small smile grow into a wide grin.

- "really? you made all this for me?" - 🍊

- you nodded, biting your bottom lip to contain your excitement. (if only you knew how cute you looked to him.)

- he was about to bring the spoon up to his lips, but stopped himself before he could consume any.

- " do ya' wanna sit and enjoy it wit' me?" - 🍊

- "oh, i couldn't. im still on my shift and the reason i made it was for you to enjoy!" - 🍑

- "it won't be much of a treat if i don' have you there to enjoy it wit' me. 'ow bout i come back after your shift?" - 🍊

- "that...that would be great, yeah." - 🍑

- "good. until then, peach." - 🍊

- THE DATING STAGE -

- He has a very small and limited amount of tolerance for people.

- until it comes to you.

- Then he all of a sudden has all of the time and patience in the world.

- You could be drunkenly rambling about absolutely nothing and he'll just fondly look at you while gently rubbing your back, softly humming in agreement as if he understands anything you're saying.

- He adores taking you shopping.

- Just seeing you light up whenever you see a pretty dress or a stunning piece of jewelry will make him whip out his credit card at the speed of light.

- "ya' like that dress, bun? go try it on." - 🍊

- he'll make a whole day out of spoiling you.

- he'll sit back and sip champagne while you try on the most extravagant outfits that are made out of the finest material from all around the world.

- "get whateva' ya' want, sweets'." - 🍊

- tangerine also really enjoys picking out your outfits. especially for date night.

- he'll make sure you look nothing less than extravagant on your fancy dinner dates.

- he sometimes likes to match outfits, not too often though, it kinda throws him off and he simply just doesn't want to be that kind of couple.

- he'll only 'match' with you if it's solid colors. like black, blue, white/cream. nothing too bright or flashy.

- ladybug jokes around and often says tangerine's your sugar daddy.

- small side note, tangerine absolutely hates the dynamic you and ladybug have.

- ladybug and you have built a nice friendship over the years. you don't see him often, so whenever you do it's always a treat.

- tangerine would've already cut ladybugs arms off long ago, but you were always so pleased to see ladybug whenever you could, and how could he possibly strip you of something that brings you so much joy?

- ladybug is annoyingly spared...

- for now.

- you have caught tangerine on a couple occasions, casually slipping jewelry off of people and then offering it to you, in which you give him a disapproving look with your arms crossed.

- "it would suit you more, dove." - 🍊

- "tan, please go give that woman her bracelet back. i already have 4 just like that." - 🍑

- he'll glumly give the woman her bracelet back and tell her 'she dropped it' but you both know the truth.

- omg, any present that you give him will make him practically melt inside.

- he'll always amp up the gifts you give him, even if it's something he doesn't particularly like or care for.

- "what? you got this fa' me? love, ya' shouldn' have." - 🍊

- whole time it's an itchy ugly sweater that you saw while casually shopping.

- he'll never wear it on his own accord unless you ask him too. then he absolutely will, and he'll wear it with pride.

- why? because his baby got it for him.

- and lemon absolutely adores you more than anything.

- he treats you like his own little sister.

- he'll coddle you like you're the most fragile porcelain in the entire world.

- he gives the best bear hugs ever. he always holds you so tight, it's like being embraced by a warm, soft, cloud.

- lemon has an awful habit of casually barging into you and tangerines apartment without warning.

- let's just say, you and tangerine have learned to keep your intimate moments in the bedroom and lemon has learned to announce his arrival 3 minutes in advance through the phone.

- you and lemon tend to have long and deep meaningful conservations pretty often. you'll try to include tangerine and get his input on some things but he'll never interject.

- mainly, because he's still struggling to be vulnerable with the people he loves. it's a slow process but he's steadily getting there with the help of the two most important people in his life. :)

- you and lemon will talk about any and everything under the sun, from sports, to cooking shows, to disneyland, to funny little memories you've had in the past...basically everything!

- there's never a dull moment between you two.

- but along with being tangerines twin brother and growing up with him, they have some of the same characteristics.

- they both are extremely over protective of you.

- a few examples...

- ladybug says a joke out of hand while tangerine isn't around?

- he's getting a hard stare from lemon, that's partnered with a passive aggressive statement, and a warning pat on the shoulder.

- "oi, watch ya' mouth, yeah?" - 🍋

- you're walking to the grocery store and someone roughly bumps into you?

- lemon will grab them by their shoulders before turning them towards you and asking telling them to apologize.

- some sleazy dirtbag is hitting on you?

- lemon is pulling tangerine off of his bloody unconscious body.

- all in all you basically have two bodyguards.

- theyre both very protective of you, especially tangerine.

- if you ever came home with cuts or bruises because someone assaulted you, he would absolutely see nothing but red.

- he loves you, but there couldn't be enough begging and pleading in the world from you that would stop him from unleashing his wrath on whoever hurt you.

- even if it was just a shitty family member who got too drunk, tangerine doesn't care.

- he'd clean you up first, run a bath for you, wash your hair, and even order food for you. he'll really hold and comfort you like no tomorrow.

- but once he knows you've fallen fast asleep and you show no signs of waking up anytime soon... he's getting himself dressed to go on a personal mission of his own.

- even with lemon and tangerines protection, they worry about you when they're not there.

- which is why they taught you how to defend yourself.

- every other saturday or so, tangerine (sometimes along with lemon) will teach you how to defend yourself.

- it's a pretty grueling process, even when they go easy on you.

- "cmon' you're not hurtin' anyone with those pillow punches, darling. now, again. hit me." - 🍊

- "i-no. i don't wanna hurt you, tan." - 🍑

- "love, if ya' wanna be strong and able to defend yaself', ya have to train." - 🍊

- he says it so softly too :(

- he's always so gentle with you, it doesn't matter the situation or circumstance.

- if you're non-confrontational, he will bring certain things to your attention in the calmest way possible.

- he'll never address you aggressively or maliciously call you out of your name. he'd sooner die than treat you like he treats everyone else.

- it's honestly why arguments between you two don't happen often.

- you two get into disagreements sometimes but they've never led to shouting, storming out on each other, or throwing things out of anger.

- if you cry during one he will immediately drop it, doesn't matter what it's about, it couldn't have been that important.

- "no, no, no, dove. don't cry, m'sorry. please, don't cry," - 🍊

- he absolutely hates seeing you cry.

- it's like someone reached in his chest and physically tore his heart out and stomped on it infront of him. (a bit dramatic, but that's how he feels)

- he feels terrible.

- even if you're an overly-sensitive person and cry about nearly everything under the sun, he will still feel bad about making you cry.

- he never wants you to shed tears because of him. unless it's out of pleasure or pure happiness.

- and if someone else makes you cry?

- they will absolutely get the beating of a lifetime.

- there have been times random men have said incredibly rude things to you while tangerine was lingering around.

- it ends badly for them every time.

- it truthfully doesn't matter who it is.

- if tangerine even gets the slightest hint that you were upset by something someone said, he's making sure they're getting pulled out of the establishment in a stretcher.

- he tries his best not to bring his normally hot-headed attitude around you, but sometimes people are able to press just the right buttons that get him all riled up and now he's on edge.

- you can always tell when he's on edge.

- he's a bit more aggressive when he does mundane tasks and he's quietly cursing under his breath while roughly running his hands through his hair.

- "stupid cunt, he's lucky i ain' shoot 'em in front of 'is wife and kids." - 🍊

- and he's doing the dishes...^

- over time you've learned how to easily and quickly calm him down from his little tantrums.

- there are many different ways you could go about calming him down, but the easiest and most effective way is just beckoning him to come lay down on the couch/bed with you and giving him a head rub.

- little moments where you can just relax and hold each other are his all time favorites.

- you have a very comforting smell and presence that just immediately draws him to you.

- sometimes if his missions last longer than he'd like them to, he'll sneak one of your favorite bottles of perfume in his suit jacket.

- he won't use it, he'll just smell the inside of his jacket, it makes him feel comforted, like you're right next to him.

- but missions are always hard, it's just something you both won't ever get used to...

- you'll usually send the boys away by baking them a nice, sweet, tasty treat. it differs from pie, muffins, cupcakes, beignets, and much more.

- tangerine and lemon are both extremely comforted by your baking. they absolutely love it and talk about it quite often on their missions.

- "lucky bastard you are. if ma' girl could bake like this i'd marry her on the spot." - 🍋

- "sooner or later." - 🍊

- he's actually so whipped for you it's insane at this point.

- one of tangerines' favorites things to do is tease you.

- but not in a patronizing way.

- he just likes to see you get flustered, it gives him an incredibly huge confidence boost.

- he'll call you every pet-name under the sun to see you get all bashful and cute for him.

- "ya' look gorgeous as always, dove."

- "c'mere, bun."

- "sleep well, darling."

- "such a pretty thing you are."

- he knows it makes you feel a certain way and he finds it so adorable when you shy away from him because you're too nervous to look him in the eye.

- tangerine likes to act like he isn't completely whipped and in love with you, but he absolutely is.

- anything you ask for, he will get.

- you want a cat/dog even though he's allergic?

- it's all yours, just keep it out of the bedroom.

- you wanna go to paris?

- the hotel and flight are already booked, first class seats and a room with the most gorgeous view.

- you want him to bake with you even though he's not that good in the kitchen?

- the supplies are out and he's already wearing his 'kiss the cook' apron.

- overall, you truly are the love of tangerines life and he would rather die than to ever see you walk away from him.

- he protects you with his life, and he will continue to do so, until death do you part.

this one was much longer than my last one. this was a request from my lovely moot @kpopgirlbtssvt . i hope you enjoy, love!

- bunnie ᘏ⑅ᘏ

[thegreymoon]

Ah, it is crying hours for me tonight as I am now rereading Chu Wanning's death scene(s). As if the one after the Heavenly Rift was not bad enough, we finally got the details on his death in the 0.5 timeline and... yeah 😢

But I did have one moment of clarity. This part always confused me:

The word "reminiscence" that was used both here and in the unofficial translation kind of conjures up for me the image two people having a long, friendly talk, possibly over drinks, about their shared memories. And I just couldn't imagine 0.5 Taxian-jun and Xue Meng having a friendly get-together where they would "reminiscence" ever again. Nor could I imagine that Chu Wanning harboured any hope of a reconciliation between them, because Mo Ran had, at this point already slaughtered so many people, including Xue Zhengyong, Madam Wang and the entirety of Sisheng Peak.

However, it occurred to me that what Chu Wanning actually meant would be more along the lines of "remember" or "recall". At this point, Chu Wanning knows about the flower curse. He knows it has wiped Mo Ran's good memories, but he still clings to hope that Mo Ran will somehow eventually snap out of it, maybe break the curse of his own volition, at which point he would want to remember his past and have to ask somebody who knew him when he was young.

Chu Wanning keeps telling Mo Ran to wake up, and in retrospect, he obviously means "wake up" from the spell:

Chu Wanning summoning Jiuge without his spiritual core makes it clear that in spite of being crippled and imprisoned, Chu Wanning still had options to either kill himself or kill Taxian-jun. Yet he chose to live on, even in this state of suffering. Yes, his primary motivation for giving himself to Taxian-jun in the first place was to protect Xue Meng and to maybe mitigate as much damage as he possibly could. But he also loved Mo Ran, he loved him so much and felt such guilt for not protecting him from this evil. Later on in the book, there is that part where Chu Wanning considers killing him and finds the idea unthinkable. Because, let's be real, if Chu Wanning had been motivated enough to kill Taxian-jun, he would have figured out a way. He figured out how to create a rift in time and space with no spiritual core in order to save him. If he had ever seriously wanted Taxian-jun dead, Taxian-jun would have died. But Chu Wanning loved him and held on to hope that he could bring him back. Even his last words to Mo Ran were about forgiving himself.

He says this as he lies there dying:

He still tries to call him back:

Later on in the book, when Chu Wanning 0.5 merges with 2.0, we get that flashback where he likens himself to a torch burning itself out to light the way for Mo Ran to return home eventually and worries about what will happen if he burns out before he turns back. The idea of Mo Ran being forever lost in the dark torments him.

Also, the only reason he chose to die at that point in the 0.5 timeline is because of a desperate hope that his death might snap Mo Ran out of his madness, which even works, in a way. Mo Ran does try to turn back. He desperately seeks someone who can tell him what he was like before because he can no longer remember, but at that point, there is nobody left. This is exactly what Chu Wanning was afraid of, which was why he implored him not to kill Xue Meng. Because after he himself was gone (and he knew that this last escapade with Jiuge was a suicide mission), Xue Meng would be the only person left alive who had known Mo Ran before the flower ate up his mind.

There is no turning back for Mo Ran in the 0.5 timeline and when he realizes this, he decides to end his life.

(A tiny thing that proved me half-wrong, though, is that Taxian-jun and Xue Meng did eventually sit down and reminiscence in the extras! But, again, only half-wrong, because that was not Taxian-jun's Xue Meng. His Xue Meng died in that flood and they never reconciled, so 😢)

[yuseirra]

Coming to think of it, Aqua and Ruby becomes considerably darker and twisted when they have the black star eyes/are under the black star's influence. They become depressed, a bit unstable, lash out sometimes and cause the others around them to worry because their personalities change for the worse

But Kamiki still manages to sound pretty kind as he has these eyes, for instance, he had them when he talked with Ai in 154 and he was so soft even though what she said would have occurred as a shock. It was something really hurtful. If you think about it, do we ever see him treat others in a cruel way? It's quite the contrary, isn't it? I think he was always very polite in terms of the way he spoke and we never see him being aggressive even in terrible situations. We don't know what he actually did behind the scenes, but when we see him actually do something in present time, he doesn't seem too bad aside from the ominous aura he has.

Then just how kind is this guy without the black star? I think this guy's inherently really sweet. I think it's safe to say he used to be that way, and the more I examine his behavior, he's still retained that part of him. When someone makes a movie out of the worst nightmares of his life, he cares about them for having acted out something that painful. When someone says something very cruel, he says that was only natural. He's generally still polite, and he really is prepared to carry what he thinks is his fault and "rot away"(what does this mean.. Is going to jail all there is to it?;;)

I think he's supposed to be a really tender guy... It's just that the initial idea we got about him was too far from it and it overrules what he actually is. If Ai loves a guy, that is a lot. He must have been really nice to her and have had given her a lot of happiness in order for her to believe 'yes this guy's it. I want to stay with him forever' because it's really difficult to achieve. Ai leans on the avoidant type, and it's so hard for someone like that to find someone to feel that strongly about and wish to settle together with. I feel she was able to love her children with affection due to the positive experiences she's had with him.

It's not depicted so much in detail but they are both smiling in the flashbacks and the imaginations, they were pretty good together.

I wonder just how kind he would have been if his life wasn't so tormenting, and even while it being that way, he still??? Does manage to appear to be sweet at least outwardly? I think that IS indeed a glimpse of his true nature?? Which makes me believe he really is inspired from/an incarnation of the god who directs people to goodness?? I was very wary about this guy but he seems selfless. I feel like he'd have been an angel if things weren't so messed up. Is he still? He actually may be?? He was a good kid. I think Ai wanted to help him, willingly, because he was one and she didn't want to see someone like him suffer. She must have opened up to him because he was good to her.

Yeah.. That's my passing thought for now. Oddly enough, I can't think of things he did that are "evil" except for the things he "claims" to have done or are ambiguous at this point. When that gets revealed, my thoughts may change. For the time being, he's been mild and considerate and kind and even timid. That was so interesting because it contradicts what was being suggested before he made his appearance. It's been so fun and intruguing to look into, but it'd make sense for me if this is really it because what Ai's said... That can't just sprout from nowhere. It doesn't happen unless he's been really good to her.

[douglysium]

Is FGO's Andromeda Black?

I already talked about this on Twitter So I figured I would mention this here and it was originally a sort of response to people criticizing for someone assuming Andromeda was some sort of gyaru.

I appreciate that people are aware of Andromeda’s Aethiopian / African origins in FGO but tbh I think there’s something to be said about how FGO design usually approaches drawing black people / features. Sure I think Andromeda is black but if you where to grab a random non-fate fan before putting FGO’s Andromeda, Amakusa, Emiya Alter, and Suzuka Gozen (Summer) in front of them with no context and asked them “Which of these characters is black?” or "Which of these character an African figure?" I hesitate to say that they would be able to tell you consistently.

I’m not saying no character can ever be racially ambiguous or everything can fit cleanly into little boxes at all times but as tempting as it is to say someone not realizing Andromeda is black is merely the ignorance of an audience member I can’t help but think that Fate also primes such expectations with how they often approach black characters in general. I think parts of the internet do bend over backward trying to deny a character being black when it makes sense but I also ask when is the last time Fate has idk drawn really curly hair or dreads? Like seriously think about it.

(Lenora maybe isn't the best example because I think she plays into some stereotypes but the point here is to look at the hair texture)

So, I think as good as the conversation about Africa in Greek mythology is to have and how easy it is to blame it on the audience (which is not completely unjustified) I think we also have to question how Fate itself primes the audience or may handle things in such a way as to increase the chance of miscommunication. And this is not to say that it’s always Fate’s fault or that black people can never have straight hair and / or lightskin black people or what have you, but i find Myself having to debate whether a character is black or not in fate way more often than I have to debate if a character is black in other media. I think the weaknesses that Fate has with these kinds of designs is something I don’t see with Magic the Gathering or Pokemon or even Digimon. Outside of specific characters I don’t see people arguing Marvin Jackson from Digital-Police is a gyaru or Lenora isn’t black.

Like if you look at Sid Story’s Mansa Musa design for example I don’t think there’s really anyway for someone to misinterpret that she’s not black without looking like they are purposefully trying to troll others for engagement.

(Shout outs to illust_ringo (https://twitter.com/illust_ringo))

Like yeah, there is a lot of racism in some parts of the Fate fandom but Fate itself did also make a bunch of Detroit jokes with Emiya alter and clearly realized they made some sort of mistake with design since they’ve been walking back on some subtle stuff so I can only give FGO itself so much grace in that context. I love Fate but I think if we want to have a productive conversation we need to acknowledge the racism within Fate itself and how that can attract certain people or set up certain expectations (even with the censorship of characters like Emiya Alter).

I guess what I’m also trying to say is for some people if you give an inch they’ll take a mile. If you give even a little bit of a possibility that a character isn’t black, even if they’re supposed to be, some people are going to take it and I think that there’s some stuff Fate could be doing more often (even if not all the time) to help prevent misconceptions from occurring and prevent me from pulling out an essay or history lesson on why a character is or should be black almost every-time they release and African servant.

While I ended up talking about some of the ways I think Fate could do better I don’t think it’s always 100% their fault. Like I said if you give an inch some people will take a mile (and some people don’t want to ever count Egypt as part of Africa for some reason) but I also think there’s stuff they could be doing to help curb this. I also don’t think it helps that Fate barely touches any black figures around / outside of Egypt but that’s for another time (where’s Yasuke?! Im on my hands and knees begging).

Anyway, those are my thoughts because quite frankly one could go on all day with almost infinite ifs, ands, or buts and numerous exceptions and when the responsibility is more on the designer or more on the audience or how there are always exceptions, considering racially ambiguous people and designs, etc but this is from Twitter and my brain hurts so I'll spare you an entire chapter book's worth of thoughts. I figured this was also fitting to go over during Black History Month.

Extra Thoughts

There are a couple of other points I would like to mention though. Some people have argued Andromeda is a win because they didn't depict her as white and I'm not sure I completely agree? Yes, it is a major win that they didn't do that thing where they only look at how white Europeans from the medieval century depicted her and used pale skin as a symbol of beauty but there are some fan translations of her profile and it says this " A tomboy princess who prides herself on her swimming ability. Ethiopia (Aethiopia) is said to mean "land of the sunburnt people"[1], however, it does not necessarily correspond to the nation of Ethiopia which exists today."

So yes, Aethiopia does not correspond perfectly to Ethopia but it still refers to parts of Africa and Africans. Quite frankly, this part of the profile reads like a summer servant and while it might be easy to say "Fate gave her dark skin so it's a win" I also worry that what happened is that they interpreted "land of the sunburnt people" as a tan and took the depictions of white Andromeda and interpreted it as a sort of tan. Which is a doubt I REALLY REALLY REALLY wish I didn't have and I can't stress this enough. I so desperately want to believe that they are saying Andromeda is at least black but like I said I think we have to be honest that Fate's depiction of black and African people adds a lot of room for doubt. I think her skin is naturally tan at least and while she does indeed have dark hair in some of her ascensions it ends up turning blonde. You could maybe argue this confirms that she actually isn't a gyaru since most stereotypical gyarus have blonde hair but even with that in mind I think the way Fate handles Andromeda and just black designs in general can often fall a bit flat or unclear and sometimes I think fans are doing a lot of heavy lifting with good faith readings (including me).

This is not me saying Andromeda is white this is me saying that Fate pretty consistently falls short with these designs which feeds into a room for doubt. Like I said, I just want Fate to be more willing to include some black features more often so I'm not constantly having to pull up a small dissertation on why a character is black. It would be nice if there were just a few more of their black characters that I could point to and have no doubts about and not need to debate anyone.

Also, Fate just has a SERIOUS whitewashing problem and a weird relationship with blonde hair quite frankly. It feels like sometimes it's an obsession. Like when they made it so blonde hair was a sign of divinity for most of the Babylonian gods. Something that has a lot of Eurocentric baggage with the history of associating often white / "aryan" traits with purity, beauty, goodness, divinity, etc.. Not to mention, that in my opinion, Fate seems like it is basically going out of its way to avoid black historical figures most of the time unless they have do Egypt. Yes, I know about Strange / Fake and Nzambi but they barely touched most of Africa and even outside of Egypt they haven't really even mentioned characters like Yasuke outside of some fan-submitted design in one of their gag mangas. Combine this with designs like Emiya Alter and the controversy around that and I can't help but be left wanting a bit more of a bare minimum somewhere even if there aren't a lot of black servants.

Greeks and Pigment

Since someone is inevitably going to bring this up. Yes the Greeks do technically depict Andromeda with light skin even way back when but I just happened to take an art history class so I know a bit about this.

Greeks did this weird thing where they sometimes depicted women with light skin and men with dark skin so if you really wanted to commit to that argument then someone like Perseus for example would have to be black or at least dark-skinned. To me it can hold about as much wait as arguing a man has blue skin and a girl has pink skin because people associate those colors with boys and girls.

For reference, here’s a pot depicting Perseus and Andromeda from 575-550 BCE on an amphora from Italy. If someone did want to argue Andromeda was white than they would need to argue Pereus is black or something which is to say Greek art and skin tones can be weird.

Andromeda wasn’t the only Greek mythological figure from Ethiopia (such as Memnon during the Trojan War) and the Greeks had settlements in African areas like Egypt and traded with Africans. Additionally, the myth of Helios explains why dark skin tones exist (so different skin tones are literally incorporated into their myths) so I think based on context even with art like this we can assume the Greek culture generally probably knew about black people. Also, Andromeda's profile clearly alludes to the idea that the designers and writers probably know Andromeda is from Africa too.

Ending

Idk, I try not to come off as a debbie downer or seem like the only enjoyment I get from Fate is when I bash it but I feel like some people are getting really caught up in praising the design or the individuals who are probably misreading Andromeda's race or ethnicity and not seeing the bigger picture itself. Something that limits the productivity of the conversation. I also think that where possible we should maybe push for more clearly black designs to prevent things like this from happening. I know that's usually not going to happen because FGO is a Japanese game for a mostly Japanese audience but you never know who's paying attention or who you might inspire. I also think that some of us maybe shouldn't be settling for scraps or half gestures as often.

Andromeda does do well with not just depicting her as Perseus white but at the same time I think everyone also just has REALLY low standards (including me) so even that little bit was a surprise. Which is depressing when you think about it. This isn't me saying you can't like Andromeda or that every character needs to have their race plastered on their forehead but it's very clear that Fate's design philosophy has some major pitfalls and weaknesses (especially with depicting black people) and I think it could be taking some simple steps to resolve them. It feels like every time FGO releases a black character the same cycle happens in the community and I'm not really sure it's going anywhere because people end up debating about what is basically a symptom showing up within the fanbase without addressing the actual source and elephant in the room itself, FGO and maybe even Fate in general.

There are also even people in Japan who at least kind of care enough to try to depict black people in a less ambiguous fashion that isn't racist or a stereotype (like Jinkei who has literally worked on FGO: https://x.com/jinkei_bunny/status/1759352092467364240?s=20).

BHM

Anyway, happy Black History Month. I urge you that while criticism is good and healthy positive reinforcement is also great and just as important. There's no point in ever only paying attention to the negative but never fostering the positive.

In the spirit of positivity and being the change you want to see in the world here are my Yasuke and Shaka Zulu fanservant designs

Demon Saber: Yasuke Full Profile- https://douglysium.tumblr.com/post/735141544541208576/mori-ranmaru-wikipedia

Grand Lancer Candidate: Shaka Zulu Full Profile- https://douglysium.tumblr.com/post/721643569180557312/douglysium-douglysium-douglysium-grand

Steel Berserker: John Henry Unfinished Profile- https://www.tumblr.com/douglysium/735103259781578752/steel-berserker-john-henry-wip?source=share

[decayandfanfics]

April flowers

Sooo. . . It’s been a while. Uni has been kicking me on the floor, but i wrote this like 6 months ago when i was ovulating probably. Thanks to @t-tomuras for teaching me how to speak english properly kajsdkasj

Shigaraki x Fem!reader. Mentions of Pregnancy and childbirth. Nothing else.

________________________________________________________

If you would have told him that he would be an amazing father, Tomura would probably have given you an undeserving sneer before some biting comment about you being crazier than he gives you credit for.

It doesn’t make it any less true though. Despite his visceral need for space and natural nonchalance, he couldn’t help feeling nervous about your newfound condition. It’s a lost battle between his own hesitance towards the life changing news and the immensity of his love for you, making him fidgety, gentle, moody, and paranoid all at the same time. Thank God by now you are filled and familiar with his general neurosis, so you leave him to his own imaginary torments because trying to fight them is a waste of time and you, swollen and tired and tied to him of all people, already have more than enough on your plate.

It doesn’t really surprise you that he turns out to be a very good dad, though. Regardless of his well known misandry never entirely out of his system and the aversion towards everything nice (like the little grinch he is) the moment curiosity calls him gently, nudging him to hold his brand-new baby, something flips inside him.

It overwhelms him immediately. The way his clammy hands manage to hold the little baby burrito, his face like a deer caught in headlights, looking between the tiny face, yours, and the nurse.

“It’s a girl.”

Then he’s smiling like a moron and you know he is in love.

And it’s funny because he fought the idea of sharing you with some brat during all the pregnancy, never really at peace with the fact that sooner or later you would love someone else more than him, a thought that truly tormented his dry little heart and filled him with dread.

Did it ever occur to him that “yeah, I may love my child like that too”? Well, not really.

Because for Tomura, something like that was nothing but laughable. How could he? If you invented kindness and peace and he needs you. There is nothing like the feeling of having you, wether it be holding his face gently or gasping under his weight. So, the idea of you being needed more than that, needed to survive, to live and grow was nothing but excruciating. And even when he, too, knew he loved his child already, it would never match what he felt for their mother.

Your baby would even eat from you, dammit! and fuck wasn’t he jealous of that.

But of course, you already imagined his whole inner tantrum monologue of envy without him speaking a word of it, completely aware he’s being irrational, and  that was what made it so funny.

Because you knew out of you two, he’d be the one to fall the hardest, and despite the general sexism about men wanting for a boy to make a team, him having a girl is the cherry on top of the cake.

“I thought we could call her Hana.” A simple statement that forever changes his definition of love.

Imagine, him jealous of his own perfect baby daughter. What a ridiculous thought.  

It makes sense then. If you had to choose between the baby and him, he’d gladly, gladly bite the bullet every time. And it’s not like you didn’t foresee this development of events, but it does surprises you when you see him angrily rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt to catch some insurgent tears of joy at the gift you just gave him (but you know better than to say anything about it, don’t you?).

“yeah…I’d like that.”

And boy does he like it.

Tomura has never been afraid of getting his hands dirty, but still it catches you off guard when you find him looking intently at the way you prepare the bottle. The methodical clean, boil, dry of the glass and the subsequent pour, fill, shake, test on the skin of your wrist.

So next time he tries it, carefully and quietly without asking you for help, getting familiar with the process until it is natural on his hands like the finger he keeps up at every moment. And even when he’s still weary of touching the baby directly and remains fairly annoyed at the antics of being a months old tiny human, he proves again to be an infallible guardian of her sleep, making you thankful of his bad habit of sleeping at ungodly hours for fucking once until eventually, he ends up rearranging things around the house.

“You like that one, don’t you?'' His voice comes accompanied by the rapid  twfl twfl twfl  of the buttons on his control over the game’s music. “Yeah, it’s not that powerful, but it’s really effective. Watch this.”

You pad quietly out of the shower into the room, where he has improvised a seat against the cradle in front of the tv, allowing the babe to stand by the bars of her crib right next to his head, both of them looking intently at the combo displayed on the screen in an explosion of colors and movement that makes the child scream and bounce in excitement that matches his.

Hana cheers in her own way, you suppose. A joyful screeching as she babbles something unintelligible between her drooling and some weird attempt for “otosan” that never quite lands, but you suspect he likes it even more because of it, even despite the fact that he’s wholeheartedly against being called some shorter westernization like “papa” because something something manners and something something respect. (And yes, that’s another irony that has you raising your eyebrows to your hairline in disbelief but he’s Kurogiri’s child after all, what else did you expect?)

“See? I told you. Hey, don’t eat my hair. Your mom likes it.”

And fatherhood may not make him less sharp nor slaps the edginess out of him, but it does bring out a more playful side of him, the part of him that’s eager to learn and teach, so you find him reading about butterflies just to tell her stories about how the caterpillar becomes a chrysalis before developing wings, and saying stuff like he cannot play if Hana is not there, because she’s the lucky charm and his secret to defeat all the bosses.

Time and time again shows you a new side of Tomura, and it dawns on you that the boy you loved all those years prior is no longer a teen but finally a man, and you cannot help but watch amazed at the growth that happens non stop in front of your own eyes.

And just as he became braver for you, he becomes wiser for her. His natural protectiveness making him stronger, truly  stronger, a type of strength he would have never achieved under the shadow of his sensei, no matter the torture or deceits he would had lay to his ears.

Sweet baby kisses and unfathomable love that sounds like little steps following him around the house; a better reward than any promise of destruction, because he was made for love and compassion, despite what everyone else thinks. Despite what he himself thinks.

Yes, for Hana Shimura, Tomura will wholeheartedly be Tenko again.

[an-au-blog]

difan is fine by me~

and i gotta say, SO excited by how much thought you've put into these options!! i think impel down is a super compelling choice, wrt the traumas your au buggy has, and making the marineford storyline still work, AND for that shippy agenda of yours (which i am fully in favor of ftr 😍)

i'm having fun imagining the marines announcing the buggy-roger pirates connection to the confusion of everyone on that ship BUT luffy, who did hear from rayleigh the other day about some buggy guy who used to be on the roger crew with shanks—but it didn't occur to luffy that this could also be HIS buggy until just now

alabasta is also a really interesting choice!! is the interest in history something he picked up after getting to know robin, or is it an interest he always had & is now remembering? (like, idk, maybe he recognizes the poneglyph language? and can't READ it, not without years of study and practice, but he thinks he used to know someone who could…?)

Aaa thank you, difan :')

I imagine that, yes, he picked up his love for history from Robin. Other than being the only responsible one adult, she often has a lot of sleepless nights, just like u!Buggy (who gets horrible night terrors). And I think that they would bond over being night owls. Also when she tries to tell him about the poneglyphs or just approached the topic, he reflexively goes "oh, yeah I know that", and then has a "wait... why do I feel like I know about them?" moment.

No, he cannot read them, but he knows more than the average person about them and about other things related to them. Robin thinks someone in the past before his memory loss taught him, or could read them, or maybe even found some of them...

Idk I just love the idea of Buggy being surprisingly smart especially with history (he asked Roger's crew taught him to be smart because he couldn't be strong like Shamks), so I guess it's self indulgence.

About the impel down thing:

Luffy would definitely be like "huh, so you're that Buggy, okay, cool!" Also I believe that all the prisoners would still want to become him devote followers, but he'd have to say goodbye to them because he's no captain, and the only captain he has is Luffy. (Which essentially makes them both respect Luffy immensely and think Buggy is just sooo modest and sooo loyal, committed, modest, etc, etc.)

I'd forgotten that the straw hats meet Rayleigh in the bar before Kuma sent them off and every detection. So I believe that Buggy already had a little talk with him about his life. And by little talk I mean he knows Rayleigh recognized him, and he finds out they've known each other because they both sailed. He refused to tell him more because he should find it for on his own pace.

(I'm gonna push some shuggy, here again lol):

On the way to Marine Ford, when the person on the snail told everyone that he was a part of the Roger pirates and is an associate of Shanks's, he was terrified. He'd never really seen this red-haired Shanks guy, only knows what Luffy had told him and what he's heard from the grapevine. And sure, Luffy praised him, but Luffy was way too trusting and positive. So excuse him for being untrusting towards a complete stranger.

(To give myself an excuse to push them in physical proximity...) Buggy would get swept by the attention and action, and Luffy would be taken by Law's crew by the time Buggy realizes he's gone. That's when Shanks sees him. His long lost friend and the person he was chasing ever since he found out he escaped from his entrapment on his own.

Shanks seems happy to see Buggy, and he seems like the only better option of getting the hell out of Marine Ford, so he takes him up on his offer for a ride back.

Once in the ship, where Shanks doesn't have to keep up appearances, he finally lets himself give Buggy a proper hug and starts telling him how much he's missed him and how worried he's been.

[superbiam]

Rant about Naruto and Hinata’s ship

I will forever ride hard for NaruHina but yeah based on how the story develops it makes more than sense for Naruto and Sakura to be endgame.

I will delude myself into believing their marriage/relationship is meant to teach about first love and second love.

I know that as the protagonist everything should technically work in his favor. The hint of reality that not everything will go as you planned no matter how much you work, deserve it, or will end up with who you want gets hit on the head.

Sakura was a great comrade and friend to Naruto and a great person overall, makes sense why Naruto would love her. 

Naruto did everything he could in his power to keep her happy and help her in every which way he could, laid down his life for her, professed his love to her and everyone who would listen, Naruto did everything someone would without a doubt would fall in love, especially having true love for her.

However, just because someone shows you genuine love and care it doesn’t obligate you or your heart to reciprocate those feelings.  

It sucks.

I’ve personally been there.

But guess what, I fell in love with someone who loved me for years and years and showed me nothing but love, respect, and a great friendship even though I rejected them countless times in the past and now we’re married!

At a point you have to get up and go where you are loved the way you want to be loved, there’s no crime in it. There’s only so much you can do but it always takes two to tango. You can’t force someone to love you just because you go above and beyond for it.

I think that’s why I’m so attached to this specific fictional relationship because in reality it’s very possible to occur in real life and it has for me.

Loving someone after your first love or being heartbroken a ton of times doesn’t mean you “settle” or just take what you can get, it doesn’t take away value from the next person you fall in love with and possibly spend the rest of your life with.

 I get Naruto is the protagonist and everyone wants him to end up with his first love but no one cheers for Hinata ending up with her first love.

That’s why it kind of irks me in some aspects that others view Hinata as the next best thing or Natuto’s second choice. Naruto never have Hinata false hope, he never stringed her along like a jerk, Naruto loved her as a friend and it’s possible to eventually see beyond platonic love.

Naruto could’ve easily gone out with any girl in any village because of the immense admiration everyone had for him and the constant confessions but he was able to still find genuine love for him in the right places with the right people that knew him before anyone ever did. 

It also falls in part with that sometimes what you’ve been looking for all this time is right in front of you

I think i’ll end this now lol but thanks for whoever took the time to read this rant