#llama feeling messy

[loudmouthedllama]

There's so much wild nonsense in the RPC I could talk about, but tbh I think the most RELEVANT thing is just how clearly the clowns in your inbox have demonstrated what I've always known. 'Rules for thee but not for me.' This is the same crowd that'll kick and scream 'block and move on!!' but they are physically incapable of actually doing so themselves. Even those that don't come stomping into people's inboxes still feel the need to take screens and pass it around all their besties to mock. Not only is it to seek validation for whatever petty judgment they have, but also to ensure everyone in their circle is being a nice, loyal sheep. Either you're with them or you're against them, they don't have the brain power to process any more complex or nuanced response. Source: I used to be in a LOT of private servers with hypocrites like that.

Which, consequently, is why this blog's notes are so quiet; I'm sure I'm not the only one who knows these people refuse to fight fair.

How about this: they can whine about drama clogging up the tags when they get just as up in arms about all the promos for blogs that don't actually roleplay. Those are SIGNIFICANTLY worse because there's more of them and they even pretend to be what you're looking for. But SIKE, they only rp with their friends and only once in a blue moon and aren't even accepting new partners-- or better yet, block anyone who follows first. WHY ARE YOU PROMOTING YOURSELVES THEN??? It's legitimately insane. Go be mad about THAT you backwards loons.

You mah Llama needed to find this blog, AS I LEGIT TALK ABOUT THIS SO DAMNED MUCH MAH LLAMA!!! GDI, I CAN'T EVEN BRING UP ANOTHER BLOG OWNER FAILING TO GET NOTES EITHER. OTHERWISE MY BONES IS JUMPED, BECAUSE THEY THIKING THEY GOT DIRT ON ME! WHEN THEY FUCKING DON'T.

Truth is, they can attempt an 'unfair' fight with me, but... For it to fucking work, I'd have to care about my own notes. For it to be a consequence, I'd have to be crying about my own notes. And well, sadly for em... I don't. I'm not. I don't need to, cause I know yas all watching. Reading. I got yas attention.

AND I DIDN'T EVEN FUCKING TRY.

AND AS FOR YA LAST PART MAH LLAMA, WELCOME TO THE ENTIRE POINT OF MY BLOG!! THE UTTER POINTLESSNESS AND USELESSNESS THESE FUCKERS HAVE BROUGHT TO FANDOM RPCS!

[fluffallamaful]

the writing process for the latest fic 😵‍💫 (literally the same thing over and over again. some outtakes). writer’s block has been so strong that occasionally the only place that i can write is in a physical notebook 😑

[mems-sama]

Conquering the First Chapter: A Guide for Writers

Have you ever wasted hours staring at a blank page, waiting for inspiration?

You struggle to come up with an idea for your story, but finally, inspiration strikes. You write the first chapter, believing it will make you a best-selling author. However, upon re-reading, you realize it needs improvement.

And then you toss all of it away.

Hey, I get it. Wrestling with that first chapter can feel like trying to solve a Rubik's cube blindfolded—it's a real head-scratcher! You want to hook your readers right from the start, but sometimes it feels like your words are doing the cha-cha in the wrong direction.

And let's be real, staring at that chapter for too long can make you want to throw your laptop out the window and start a career in llama farming instead. But let's stop for a moment. Take a deep breath and exhale.

Know that you're not the only one who's felt this way.

Loads of writers have gone through the "my first chapter is a dumpster fire" phase.

The good news? You can turn that dumpster fire into a sparkling beacon of literary goodness. Here are some practical things you can do in the meantime.

Step one: Give yourself a break. Seriously, put that chapter in timeout and come back to it later with a fresh perspective.

Step two: Get some outside opinions. Share your chapter with fellow writers or beta readers who can offer constructive feedback. And if all else fails, dive into the first chapters of books you love for a little inspiration pick-me-up.

Step three: Shake things up. If your first chapter is feeling stale, try approaching it from a different angle. Maybe start in the middle of a scene, or introduce a surprising twist early on. Don't be afraid to take risks and experiment with different narrative techniques to see what works best for your story.

Step four: Embrace the mess. Writing is a messy process, and it's okay to have a messy first draft. Don't get too hung up on making everything perfect right away. Sometimes, you need to embrace the chaos and let your creativity flow freely. You can always refine and polish your work later.

It's totally normal to have moments where you want to launch your laptop into the stratosphere. But remember, Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither is a perfect first chapter.

Keep at it, keep tweaking, keep pushing, and you'll get there. You've got this!

Next time, we'll discuss how to make the first chapter of your book more captivating for your readers. Make sure to catch it. Thank you for reading and have a great day!

[pixelnrd]

Heather had loved Selvadorada, but eventually she decided it was time to move on. Bidding farewell to the Llamas, she travelled to the other side of the world to the beautiful town of Tartosa on the Mediterranean coast.

The beaches were like nothing she had seen before, and the quant ancient township was full of history. Heather stayed in a tiny villa and rode a bike everywhere along the cobblestone roads. It was a town full of romance, she could feel it in the air - the heat of the sun, the sounds of music, and the smells of delicious food. The pastries were her favourite here, and every morning she would sample something new.

The necataries were also something to behold, and Heather enjoyed many fine wines. To sustain herself in Tartosa, she took up work at one of the nectaries picking and processing the fruit. It was messy work, and relentless at times, but every day she got to drink a new variety of wine and became quite the connoisseur.

The romanticism of Tartosa was not lost on Heather, and when she wasn’t working or exploring she was enjoying the sultry nightlife and meeting new people…

[annymation]

The Kingdom of Wishes- A “Wish” Rewrite

Chapter 8- They Know

Chapter 7

The sun rises upon the kingdom of Rosas.

We see the castle in all it’s magnitude glistening as the first rays of sunshine hit the top of the tower.

We then cut to a sleeping queen, wearing a white night gown made of silk. Her long brown hair spreads all over the pillow.

She moves her arms trying to reach for something next to her… But she doesn’t feel what she was looking for

She opens her eyes slowly, still trying to hug someone that isn’t there

Then she sits up upon realizing… She’s alone in bed.

“Oh my… This really must be serious” the queen says in a whisper to herself

She then hears something approaching the door

Footsteps, coming very quickly and loudly, like a horse running down the hall.

The queen just smiles as she gets up, knowing full well that is-

🚪 B L A M

“AMAYA, DARLING! I FOUND IT!!!”

The king of Rosas barges through the door, kicking it with one foot.

He’s carrying a large book on his hand.

The queen just looks at her husband lovingly as he proceeds to babble incomprehensibly

“YOUWONTBELIEVEIT!THEBOOKWASLOCKEDBYAMAGICSEAL!THATOLDFOOLREALLYTHOUGHTHECOULDKEEPTHISAWAYFROMME”

He exclaims all that with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas Eve while running across the large room to reach the bed.

It’s noticeable he’s much less put together than usual, his hair is messy and he has bags under his eyes, naturally because he barely even blinked for the past 8 hours.

He’s now right in front of Amaya opening the book to show her something

“TOOKMETHEWHOLENIGHTBUTIWASABLETOBREAKIT!NOWLISTENCLO-“

The queen gently places a hand on his face. Immediately he goes silent and melts into her touch.

“Shhh my sweet, calm yourself.” she caresses his cheek and as if by magic Magnifico is overtaken by the exhaustion and just falls on the bed next to them “Aww my handsome bookworm didn’t get any shuteye last night?” She coos

The man is now laying face first on the bed as he mumbles “I didn’t need… Sleep- I needed answers zzz” he falls asleep, the book now is just laying next to him like it’s nothing

“Hmm” the queen hums while she walks to a closet.

Upon opening it, there’s nothing out of the ordinary, just some lustrous royal gowns.

But then she pulls a hidden lever in the form of a candlestick on the wall, and the closet reveals a secret.

Shelves full of potion flasks of all colors and sizes.

(Ya know that scene from Emperor’s New Groove? Yeah it’s like that)

The queen starts looking for an specific potion, she reads the flask labels out loud as she looks for it

“Let’s see… Voice remover- no- Frozen heart- no- Llama extract- why did I even make this? No… Aha there you are.” She says softly as she takes one of the potions “Waking potion”

(Wouldn’t it be funny if she accidentally mixed up the labels and gave him poison? I’d laugh.)

She walks back to her beloved husband and opens his mouth while petting his hair. She pours the potion in his mouth.

Magnifico’s eyes are shot open, no longer with bags under them. He sits up quickly and coughs while gasping for air.

“*COUGH* UGH- Tastes as bad as I remember” he says while wiping his mouth with his sleeve “I thought you were going to make them all strawberry flavored” the king wines like a spoiled kid to his wife

“Sure, let me know when you find out how to do that with a potion made of bat eyes, sloth nails and coffee” She stated sarcastically “Now, about your discoveries…” The queen glances at the book he brought in.

The book has a symbol of a intricately drawn star that looks like a compass, surrounded by drawings that represent the constellations.

“OH YES! Here, come come!”

(This is, in fact, a direct reference to that scene in Wish when Magnifico is already totally possessed by the evil magic book and is all excited to show Amaya his new powers, I thought that was cute.)

The king has a huge smile, eager to show his wife what he has found.

He uses his staff to make the book float and the pages quickly turn by themselves “You see dear, my ancestors studied all the ins and outs of wish magic, however, there was one thing that they never DARED to do... Though personally, I've always had an interest in trying for myself” he stops on a page showing a sorcerer stealing away the power of a person with shining gold hair, the person seems to be screaming in pain “To harness the power of A WISHING STAR” the king announces proudly with an evil grin

“… Hmm” The queen seems unimpressed “So the powerful being you were talking about just looks like this? A golden haired person?”

(Amaya is more sassy with her husband than usual because he didn’t sleep with her last night)

“That’s how they SHOW themselves when they come down here!” The king explained, still just as excited as he was before “Their golden bright hair is a defining trait. Yes, they may not look like much, but their power within is unfathomable.” He says with a dark chuckle.

The queen seems more interested now

“Well then, does the book say anything about how to track it down? How to capture it?”

“Sadly, there’s no way of tracking one… However, capturing it will be easy” he says, using his staff, he makes some green magic flow through his hands creating the imagery of a a star “Star’s magic is made out of pure goodness and light, it’s pathetic really, they can’t even hurt anyone.” The king chuckles at that while gazing at the little star he created with his magic “Their main weakness is dark magic, such as mine. So if I were to fight one-" He crushes the small star with his hand "I'd have the advantage.” The king has a smile full of malice

The queen on the other hand is looking at this through a more... Rational point of view, yes it's great that her husband can capture a star... But where's the use in that if they don't know where it is?

“So there’s a star disguised as a human wandering around the island, splendid, how are we supposed to find it?” She asks him, with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

The king's smile disappears

“…Eeeeh” He takes some time to think “… Arresting all the blondes in the land would raise some eyebrows, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, yes it would darling” Amaya nods

She loves this man, but he can be pretty dense sometimes.

“Oh well, we can start by finding out who summoned it in the first place” He turns the pages and it shows an illustration of someone wishing upon a star, and on the second page it shows the humanoid star coming down “Stars only come down when they’re wished upon by someone truly pure of heart… Now the question is… Who would wish upon a STAR in a kingdom that has a wish granting KING?” He ponders, sounding almost offended.

“A child wanting to get their wish granted earlier, no doubt… It’s not like anyone older than five would believe in such fantasies” the queen says dismissively as she walks to a mirror

“… Yes…” The king places a hand on his chin as he ponders “But then again… That girl from yesterday”

The queen turns to him with wide eyes "She wouldn’t dare... Would she? After we promised to grant her wish- Wait, did you even grant the wishes last night?!” She changes the subject mid sentence

Magnifico eyes widened… He didn’t even realize it before.

“… I forgot” he says in a sigh, placing a hand on the back of his neck

The queen is brushing her hair as she says

“Ha! Oh wonderful, now the little brat will go around spreading to her friends that we lied to her, so much for saving face I suppose” Her tone is condescending, she’s not sugarcoating her disappointment in him.

Magnifico’s eyebrows scrunched, he wasn't pleased with his wife’s tone at all

(OOOOH THEYRE FIGHTING!!! THE OLD MARRIED COUPLE IS FIGHTING YALL LETS GOOO)

“Well “sorry” if I got overzealous. I just thought gaining THE POWER OF A CELESTIAL BEING ON THE PALM OF OUR HANDS would be pretty great, “sweetie”" his sarcasm when saying “sorry” and “sweetie” is palpable. He’s now pacing around the room as he talks with her, sounding angrier with every word “I don't get why you're not as thrilled about this as I am. Can’t you see what this MEANS? With this power we won't have to pretend anymore, those worthless people won't have a choice but to adore us, we’ll be IMMORTAL, is this not what we’ve alway wanted?” He’s actually trying really hard to not raise his voice much, because he knows at this time of the day there’s already servants around the castle.

“Believe me, nothing would bring me more joy than that, but unlike you, I refrain from celebrating prematurely." She explains firmly and coldly. "So far, all you’ve told me is that we MIGHT gain more power IF we find this certain individual with golden hair.” She talks to him while looking at him through the reflection on the mirror, he gives her an frustrated look, but more so because he knows she’s right… As always.

She continues, still speaking eloquently:

“And it’s not like the answer to where this star is will come knocking through that door.”

*Knock knock*

They hear a knock on the door

They both turn to it

“Um- breakfast is served, your highnesses!”

It’s the voice of one of the maids

The royal couple stare at one another for a moment

The queen points at her own hair with an annoyed expression

Magnifico rolls his eyes as he moves his fingers, using his magic to braid Amaya’s hair while they both walk towards the door

“We'll discuss this later…” The king says stoically.

But as they walk his face softened and he tries to make amends “*sigh* I love you mi vida. You do have a point, I may not have any leads now, but rest assured I will find that star for us… Somehow” Magnifico says quietly so the maid outside doesn’t hear

The queen calms herself as she holds his hand “I love you most Magnus, and I don’t doubt you for a second... I just fear that in this search of power, you might get carried awa-“

When they’re close to the door they start hearing something coming from outside…

Whispering.

Two different female voices are talking

The royal pair stops as they try to listen closely

“I need to ask them-“

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to bother them about this?”

“Who else would know why Asha ran away crying like that?”

… Asha?…

They both exchange a serious glance and nod.

It's show time.

Magnifico opens the door quickly.

That startled the two women standing on the other side. One is Dahlia’s mom, Ms. Hayashi, we’ve seen her in chapter 2.

And the other is a woman wearing a royal maids outfit. She looks remarkably similar to Safi, with brown curly hair and a big nose like his.

The royal couple now stands on the other side of the door, both smiling at them kindly.

Magnifico begins the act:

“Good morning ladies, beautiful day isn’t it?” He says with his usual charismatic voice

“G-good morning, your grace” the maid that looks like Safi gives them a curtesy, and so does Dahlia’s mom, but she doesn’t say anything, it seems like she’s thinking on what to tell them.

“We couldn’t help but overhear you both whispering… Something about Asha? Would that be the same delightful girl we’ve met yesterday?” The queen asks with a gentle smile

“Ah- Yes, it's her, b-but It’s nothing for your majesty to worry about I’m sure she’s alright” The maid says

“We don’t know that, Mishel” Dahlia’s mom corrects her friend “Your majesty, forgive me for troubling you this early, but you see... Asha has been living with me and my family for the past few years after her grandfather’s passing, and last night after she talked with you both… She came out of the castle crying unconsolably, then she ran away.” the royal cook explains, desperate for some answers.

The smiles on their faces are gone

Internally, the cogs start turning in the king and queen’s heads, but on the outside, they look just as worried as the royal cook.

Amaya’s voice is filled of distress as she says “Oh my goodness, but she was just fine when we sent her off last night, what on earth could’ve upset the poor thing?” She looks at her husband with an scared expression

“I have no idea. We’d never want to cause her any pain…” the king adds with the innocence of a saint in his eyes while looking at the two women “Did she say anything before leaving? Anything at all?”

“Well… There was one thing but- I’m sure it was a misunderstanding” Dahlia's mom says

“Oh I’m sure it was.” Magnifico agrees with certainty “But any clue may help us understand what could’ve caused such reaction or where could she be, please, we'd never forgive ourselves if something happened to her.” he holds Dahlia’s mom’s hands

“… She said her wish would never be granted.”

And all the pieces clicked

In that moment both king Magnifico and queen Amable knew…

She knew.

That noise they heard last night, it wasn’t Bravo going crazy and attacking an armor…

It was the little brat snooping around

Of course they connected the dots that the girl heard them, learned all their secrets, ran away crying, and with no one else to turn to…

She wished upon a star.

They knew.

They were both thinking the same thing.

Their faces softened into calmer expressions, to soothe the worried servant.

"I see" Magnifico says calmly "I think we both know what might've caused her to become so emotive... Thank you so much for bringing this to our attention." He says giving the woman a sympathetic smile

"I'm sure she'll show up eventually, and once she does, we shall clear up the misunderstanding" The queen adds words of reassurance

"And if she doesn't show up till sunset, please do not hesitate to tell us. I can send the guards to look for her." The king says with a comforting voice

Dahlia's mother looks at the two rulers relieved... Oblivious to the fact she just doomed the girl she promised to protect.

"Thank you my king... But, if I may be so bold to ask... What caused her to be so ups-"

"You may, in fact, NOT be so bold" The queen cuts her off, still with a smile still plastered on her face

"Oh- I just thought-"

"What happened last night is only for us and Asha to know." The king explains patiently "Now run along, we'll be down for breakfast in a moment."

Magnifico shuts the door.

They can hear the footsteps of the two servants getting farther and farther away.

Once they're sure that no one is near, they look at each other

Both grinning wickedly.

"Well, well, well... It would seem our dear guest did some eavesdropping last night, how rude." The king says, still mimicking his fake caring voice they were doing when talking with the two women, but this time with a devious grin on his face "And as a reward for snooping around, she got her own magic companion to assist her, now that's just not fair, is it?"

"Right you are mi rey, such unbecoming behavior should be punished" The queen says with the same malice in her smile

"And you know..." The king uses his magic to bring the book close to them, he flips through the pages and we're shown an illustration of a wishing star protecting a human from monsters made of shadows "The book says wishing stars can be quite... Defensive of their wish makers. It would be suuuch a shaaame if any harm befalls her, and the star had no choice but to come for the rescue" Magnifico coos in a mocking concerned tone

Amaya hugs her husband's arm as they both finish each other’s sentences:

"We find the girl"

"We find our star"

…

(The credits for the following sequence goes to @gracebeth3604, thank you so much for the help! Not gonna say what the sequence is about yet of course, but I hope you all enjoy heheh)

We cut to Asha and Aster in the kingdom of Rosas, making their way through the crowd. Asha feels the warm rays of sunshine touching her skin, the kingdom is lively as always, with people everywhere showcasing the talents they acquired thanks to their wishes.

Asha has a confident smile, for she too can't wait to show off this new talent she acquired thanks to Aster, who is right behind her.

They're now at the center of the plaza, in front of a water fountain, water splashes from it. Asha smiles confidently as her fingers easily glide across the strings, music flowing satisfyingly throughout the air, as the sun hangs brightly in the skies, Aster is dancing beside her just like he said he would, the people start gathering around to watch them.

It was working, it was working! If we keep at this long enough we might actually be able to—!

But suddenly, the sun is no longer as bright, and the water stops flowing out of the fountain. The music and cheering all ceases, like a flame suddenly being blown out.

Asha gasps, holding the mandolin tightly in her hands. She’s surrounded by darkness. The only sound now being her slow shaky breaths catching in her throat. 

“H- Hello?” She whips her head around in every direction, Aster is gone, everyone is gone. She keeps the instrument held close like it's the last companion she has left “Aster!? …Everyone!?” She calls out in a slowly rising panic that pooled into her stomach.

Everything was going well, what happened!?

Suddenly, a light catches from the corner of her eye, she looks down confusedly to her mandolin, the strings on it are now glowing brightly in green light, making the sinking pit in the girl’s stomach grow even more.

Why did this feel familiar…? 

The strings pressed against her fingers begin to burn ever so slightly, as the light sears, she draws her hand back in shock as the strings begin to snap off the head of the mandolin, snaking around wildly in the air. She drops it, making it clatter to the floor and shatter, but it wasn’t like wood splintering, but more so like glass, just like the glass slipper that broke in the king's room of items…

Why was that coming to her mind…?

She wasn’t given time to mourn the loss of her Saba's mandolin, as the strings shot up into the inky black air, their length increased, and they quickly began to tie around her during their accent. Asha reels back, struggling and attempting to get away, but it is in vain, as the green threads tightly latch onto her wrists and ankles, like puppet strings. 

An echoing duet of laughter rings above her from every direction, like it’s bouncing off the air itself, she looks up in panic, seeing the strings now attached to a pair of even more shadowy hands, two sets of glowing green eyes piercing her soul. 

She hears King Magnifico's voice booming from the sky like a thunder "Hahahahaa~ What's the matter, Asha? Didn't you say you were "a star"? Well then, give us a show!" The shadowy figure of the king moves his fingers that are attached to her strings.

Asha feels as her body being moved at their will, like she’s nothing but a ragdoll, she whimpers in fear with every movement, unable to speak.

"You really thought wishing on stars, singing and dancing could save them? Hahahah!" Queen Amable's cackle sounded akin to what Asha imagined would come from a wicked witch "Awww such a foolish, sweet, little doll" Her echoing voice cooed with a tauntingly honeyed voice.

Asha feels as her legs begin to go numb, looking down, she sees herself turning into wood.

She yells out in panic, pure fear consuming her along with the transformation, that is spreading slowly up her body, she squirms under the restraints of string but it's no use. The wooden corruption eats it’s way up her torso and arms, making her lower half go numb, it claws its way up her arms, chest, and finally it reaches her neck.

"There's no one coming for youuu!" The king's voice is deranged.

"No stars to wish upon~" The queen singsongs, it's the same line she sang in their previous musical duet, a duet Asha does not remember, but clearly it's still deeply rooted inside her mind.

"You are all ALONE" The two shadows say at the same time.

Tears stream down the girl's face, Asha closes her eyes with all her strength, not even letting out a scream, she doesn't have the energy, and even if she did she wouldn’t dare to give them the satisfaction of hearing it.  

Her face begins to go numb, the royals laughter slowly muffles until she can no longer hear them at all, if everything was already black before, then it surely was now.

All there's to see is Asha's eyes locked shut as her face slowly turns into wood...

...

(Thank you again @gracebeth3604 for helping with this nightmare sequence!)

Until she hears a familiar voice echo, muffled and distant.

"Asha?"

The voice is not sinister like the royals, it's lively and warm, like a light at the end of the tunnel.

And she does start to see a light, as her eyes slowly open, she sees what seems to be the rays of sunshine hitting her eyes... But it's not just the light of the sun...

It's Aster's hair.

Their face is literally almost touching hers, as he's floating above her.

"Mornin' A-"

"AAAAH!-"

And basically this scene from Ponyo happens

Asha hits her head on Aster's, some star dust sprinkle on her face, while Aster doesn't really move at all, since he feels no pain.

"Ouch..." Asha massages her forehead while laying down on the bed, she processes both the pain of the impact and... Everything else that just transpired in that nightmare.

"Ooops! Hehe sorry about that, you okay?" Aster asks, unfazed by the scare, he smiles excited to start a new day, in fact, his first day on earth.

Asha on the other hand is feeling pretty down right now, but she tries to not let it show "Uhum, I'm fine... Good morning, Aster" She says while taking some of the star dust off her face "Remind me to teach you about the meaning of “personal space” later" She tries to force a smile, her eyes are tired, and not just because she just woke up.

"I think had enough "space" in my life, thank you very much hehe" he says with a cheeky smile while sitting on the bed with his legs crossed. But Aster sits down on the bed, he realizes Asha looks like she's hiding something "... Hey, you're alright? Did I wake you too early?" The star asks concerned.

Actually not early enough Asha thinks to herself, but of course she doesn't say it, instead she just says "It was just a bad dream I had, that's all..." Asha sugarcoats it, that was the most horrifying nightmare she ever had.

Aster feels the weight of the world fall on him like a giant hammer. He could've prevented that. The star covers his face with both hands and throws himself on the bed, it's like he's hiding away from the shame and guilt "UUGHHH I'M SUCH A DIMWIT! I should've seen this coming!" The star hits his own head on the bed in frustration.

Asha tries to calm down the star, reassuring him "Hey hey it's okay, it was just a dumb dream, and it's not like you could've done anything"

"Yes I could, I can give you nice dreams with my magic..." Aster is now looking at her with a mournful eyes, his hair is shinning way less brightly. This "Dumb dream" is a big deal for the star, as it's his purpose to be there for Asha... To make her happy...

"... Oh" Asha is surprised by that, but at the same time it does make sense that a star would have a power like that. Of course she holds no ill will against Aster for not giving her sweet dreams, she knows he couldn't have known she'd have such a horrible nightmare.

Aster realizes there's no use in mourning for this mistake, all he can do is learn from it and move forward, as he flies off the bed and looks at Asha with his sparkly eyes full of determination "I'll make it up to you, tonight! I'll give you the best dream ever, I promise!" The star swears on it like it's the most important thing in the world to him.

Asha can't help but giggle at how the star is taking this seriously, but it is really sweet how much he cares, she never had someone worry so much for her because of just a nightmare... It was nice. "Thank you, I look forward to dreaming it then heheh" Asha tries to change the subject as she get's out of the bed "So umm... How has your first morning on earth been?"

The star is already back to their cheerful self "Pretty good actually! I just made a new friend that loves earth just as much as I do!" he tells her while jumping a little bit on the bed

"Oh you did? *yaaawwwn* And who's that?" She asks while stretching her arms.

Aster points out the window. She follows where he's pointing... Oh... She should've guessed

"The sun?" She asks him with a curious smile

"Yup! I saw her showing up in the horizon and said hi, so we started chatting, she's really nice!" He explained, excited to share everything with Asha.

"So the sun is a she? Huh neat" Asha isn’t even surprised that the sun itself is sentient, after everything that has happened she’s kinda just going with the flow.

Aster’s smile grows into an even bigger one as he starts recollecting his whole morning to Asha.

"Uhum! I asked her name and she said "The people from the rock you now lay upon know me by many names"" Aster is making a deeper voice as he quotes the sun "and yada yada yada something like that, anyway she said she didn't have just ONE name so I just call her Sunny, she thought that was funny-"

Asha usually would be really interested, and she is, but now that she’s more awake she notices there’s something that Aster hasn’t told her yet... Where's the wish bubble?... He got it last night, right?

"That's great Aster bu-"

"Then I asked her what kind of wishes did she usually gets, and she said it's mostly the same thing: Good harvest, no more rain, unless people DO ask for rain. Anyway she said it's kinda repetitive, but she likes it-"

"Aaasteeer" Asha sing songs his name to get his attention, but he's too lost in his own story

"Then I was like "Why don't you come down here like I did?" and she said that if she did so the whole planet would die, so uuh yeah she ain't doing that, ever. But then she started going on and on about how in about 10 billion years she's gonna EXPLODE, and she got all saaad and I was like "Lady, I just wanted some casual conversation, I'm not a therapis-"

"ASTER!" Asha holds the star by the shoulders and raises her voice to get his attention.

He stops talking and blinks a few times in surprise.

"Where is it?"

Aster tilts his head to the side in confusion.

"Where's what?"

"The wish, you know? The one you promised you'd stop from getting to me while I slept" Asha reminds them with a calm smile, hoping he'll just say he left in the closet or something.

"OOOH YEAH... It never showed up" He said with a innocent smile.

Asha feels a sense of dread go through her...

"... What?... But the king said last night he was gonna grant all the wishes, including mine" She has a puzzled look, could he have lied?... It's on brand for him, sure, but why?

"I saw no wishes coming out of that tower last night, I guess the king just forgot" Aster shrugs like this is nothing to worry about, as from his perspective he just got more reason to stay longer with Asha to protect her from the cursed wish, and he's confident he can do so, as long as he stays by her side.

Asha on the other hand finds this very strange "Huh... He seemed pretty eager to grant it though..." Asha doesn't really know how to feel, on one hand, maybe that means Magnifico doesn't care THAT much about trapping her and is willing to give her a few more days to stay as herself... But on the other hand... They still had her wish...

"We can try again tomorrow night, now come on!" Aster quickly flies out the room and just as quickly he returns with Asha's mom cloak in one hand and Sabino's mandolin on the other "Ready to inspire them?"

In this moment, Asha is seeing in front of her the purple cloak that once belonged to her mother, the mandolin her grandfather once played, even if she never heard him do so, and Aster, the wishing star that she only wished upon because of the things her father wrote about people being connected to the stars... She feels connected with all her family, and with that in mind, she knows she'll be safe... She believes in that with all her heart.

Asha’s face crescent into a smile as she said:

"Alright... Let's do this!"

The sun, or rather, "Sunny" is shining...

But there's some dark clouds approaching in the distance.

Chapter 9

Final Thoughts

Soooo I know this one was a short chapter... For my standards. But there's a reason for that, this was actually just the beginning of a much longer chapter, but I decided to divide it into two chapters, so don't worry, chapter 9 is actually almost done.

Also I think it's better to have this simple chapter of the two main couples waking up in the morning so you guys can see how they're, in a way... Mirrors of each other.

See, that interaction of the king and queen served to show how Magnifico is more of a dreamer, a man child, that can barely control his own enthusiasm... Kinda like Aster, but twisted... And believe it or not but their similarities run even deeper than that.

Meanwhile, Amaya is realistic, grounded, and she understands the real world much better than her husband because unlike him she didn't grow up in a palace... Kinda like how Asha understands the real world way more than Aster... And the similarities between Asha and Amaya also run deeper than that.

Buuuut that's a subject for another post. Let me know if you're curious ;)

Okay but changing the subject, I can vividly imagine Aster seeing the sun rise and being like

Aster: HIIIIIII What's your name?

Sun: Little one, I do not have a name, the mortals in this rock you now lay upon have named me many things in their short and fleeting life time. Some see me as a bringer of life, while others the ravager of their doom. I have seen everything that ever happened in this planet, and I shall see everything that will ever happen... Until it perishes.

Aster: Hmmmm I'll call you Sunny!

Sun: Lol ok

Like yeah, that's what happened, now Aster has a new friend yay

Also, since I mentioned that Aster reminds me of Ponyo...

Aster loves… EARTH!

Aster loves… ASHA!

Aster loves… *sees Magnifico* Revolution.

Yeah I think that’s his character in a nutshell.

Anyway, I’ll try adding the finishing touches on the next chapter and post it as soon as I can!

Thank You For Reading!

[butterbabyflapjack]

BRAT

Ghost x fem!reader x Soap

[ Badjhur NSFW audio of chapter 2 ]

You’ve been acting like a brat, and Ghost has had enough of it.

“You can consider this punishment. Can consider it me spoiling your bratty behavior. But you wanted my attention, and you’ve gotten it. So tell me now if you don’t want me to bend you over this desk and fuck you until it breaks, otherwise I’m taking what I want from you, and you’ll accept everything I give like the greedy fucking whore you’re pretending so hard not to be.”

ೃ[ TAGS ] sexual content, sexual tension, dominant Ghost, cheeky Soap, power dynamics, messy feelings, voice kink, mask kink, glove kink, dom/sub, indirect daddy kink, biting, rough sex, begging, brat breaking, voyeurism, just a dash of possessive choking, forced eye contact, oral fixation, tactical gear kink, desk sex, possessive Ghost, love triangle, jealousy

ೃ[ TAGLIST ] @ahoycaptainautumn @your-highnessmarvel @wolfgalsniper @confuseddipshit @prettynalilgay @merzkihstuff @alfie2401 @emberwolfgames @willowbrookesblog @meujias @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @magicgal @verios @flrwpwr @jewelsisurmom @imjusthereforghostsmutt @circuskatt @darkstars-14 @maxksc-blog @lillianastuff @assia123-green @collarwhiskers @divergent-llamas-03 @voidinfernal

ೃ[ CHAPTERS ] chapter.1 - chapter.2 - chapter.3 - chapter.4

::chapter 4::

[ SUMMARY ] You try your best to avoid temptation, but Soap has other plans, ones your lieutenant might not appreciate.

[ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] If you started reading this when it first came out, there’s a nsfw audio of it now that’s super steamy thanks to badjhur and @urfavsunkissedleo~♡ it was a lot of fun to hear my work in a different format (not to mention badjhur’s voice is ummmmmmkhlkgjhj) and if you want to you should check it out! (with headphones!! trust me on this one)

Also, ♡!dubcon warning!♡ Also also, sorry about my poetry loving ass I could not help myself.

Also (it’s my last also I swear), I maybe forgot to say what your teammates look like, so here are their muses in case you’re interested.

You stare on in rising horror at the sexy little number Ghost is holding out on one far-too-casual, fully gloved finger; a stark contrast to just how overdressed he is yet how underdressed he wants you to be. Fighting not to feel the weight of everyone’s attention passing between it – that champagne-hued monstrosity – and you; the woman expected to wear it.

You.

You’re supposed to wear that.

For a mission.

This is not a joke. There is no punchline. Where’s a fucking punchline when you need one?!

And ‘dress’ really is a generous term for whatever that silky, clingy thing is he’s offering you in front of everyone, with all the silent expectance that you walk right over and take it.

And you should. You should just follow orders, especially since everyone is watching you.

“I am not wearing that,” you tell him firmly, instead; digging your heels in from across the room.

Even smeared black and shadowed by his hood, you can see the subtle flex in how he barely raises a single brow. And even from across the room, a room full of people staring at you, the darkened depths of Ghost’s eyes has its way of making you forget about everyone but him.

“It isn’t a request,” is his response, like gravel in his throat. Gruff. Succinct. “So stop being a brat. Come over here, and take it.”

But alright, we are jumping ahead of ourselves a little bit here. So let’s rewind about twenty minutes, to before your morning was ruined by shrink-wrap disguised as a dress. Back to when the only thing sabotaging your morning was one Johnny “Soap” MacTavish; and he was sabotaging it, and you, and everything.

The morning started out tolerably enough, about twenty minutes prior; heavy on the ‘started’.

Your eyes blink open, and though your cramped little room doesn’t have a window, you still get the sense that it’s dawn. And you sit up, rubbing your eyes awake upon the haphazard bed you’re still half-tangled in.

Getting the sense that its dawn is part of the reason you don’t like hanging out in your hovel of a room, even with its safety of a door to hide from the rest of your team behind. For all its supposed privacy, its lack of windows makes it feel like a cave with a lamp left perpetually on (because you don’t ever feel quite safe on missions, especially not in windowless dark, and especially not on this mission). Yet even with the lack of sunlight to tell you that it's dawn, to make you feel more human for a single second, life is good. Life is warm. Because when you first wake up, you don't remember anything.

And then that second passes.

And then you remember all the stupid things you’ve done.

Like letting your lieutenant fuck you over his desk, more-or-less in front of an audience.

And like you – vividly imagining sucking off Johnny’s calloused, spaghetti-sauced fingers at the exact same moment you’re batting eyelashes at him in the kitchen – also in front of an audience.

You really like making a fool of yourself on stage, don’t you?

Lord, what is this safehouse doing to you? To any of you? Nothing was this complicated before you all got trapped in this shoebox, before this mission began, and you blame this shoebox-sized apartment for everything.

So, yeah.

The morning started off tolerably, but this is where it starts to fall apart.

But don’t worry, it gets better – and by ‘better’ I of course mean worse. (And we're not even talking about the dress yet, but we’ll get to that. Believe it or not, there are worse things than that horrid little dress).

Lost in your frustration for this apartment and whatever mind games it's playing with you, a gruff knock at your door makes you jump so sharply you reel back in bed, thwacking your head against the headboard.

“Living room in twenty, Hush.”

It's Soap. You can tell by that husky voice you're beginning to loathe, because like Pavlov's dog, you salivate when you hear it.

Rubbing the ache from the back of your skull, you exhale a stifled groan, which apparently these paper-thin walls allow Johnny in on.

“You all good in there, lass?” he asks, sounding a bit too amused for your liking.

“M’fine,” you call back through your teeth, glad he can’t see you wincing, and maybe you should hide out in here all day even if it’s as suffocating as a submarine.

“Sounds like you took a tumble.”

You frown at your door, at where Soap must stand behind it, hand dropping. “Mind your own business, Soap.”

You hear his chuckle, like a rockslide breathed against the door, and suddenly you're blinking far too quickly at how the mere sound of laughter sinks like honey in your veins.

“Right now you are my business…” he murmurs, and why does something so seemingly innocuous make your gut clench?

You shake the flustering sensation away, forcing a scowl at the door. “Just – go! I’ll be out in a minute!”

Again, his lowered, breathy laugh does horrible things to you.

It’s the apartment – this stupid fucking apartment – it’s messing with you.

“If you say so, Hush,” Soap muses, before the heavy sound of his boot steps carries him further away down the hall.

Crisis averted.

For now.

It’s hard to be relieved when you know you’ll just come face-to-face with him again almost instantly, such is the size of this place. And when you do, who knows what you'll end up doing - it's like you and everyone else has lost their heads in here. And though you’re tempted to lock yourself away in your room, you refuse to hide in bed all day over two guys and a hundred possible bad decisions you’ve yet to make.

Mistakes have definitely been made during your unfortunate stint in this shoebox-sized purgatory, but that doesn’t mean you’ll entertain any more dumb ideas. And you’re fully resolved not to, just as you’re hellbent on pretending that nothing at all has happened already, that nothing at all has changed – not between you and Ghost, not between you and Soap, and definitely not between all three of you.

…

All three of you?

What’s that phenomenon called? That one where you tell yourself not to think about something, and then you just think about it ten times harder even more than you would have?

Cause that’s what’s happening now.

You and Ghost and Soap. It slips across your mind, and, oh, god, that’s officially the last thing you need right now, but like a viscid bad dream, you can't wake up, can’t scrape the image once it’s there.

And you have a vivid fucking imagination.

You can see it. Can feel it. A fever-wall of heat on either side of you, yourself a meal torn between two wolves; rough, greedy. Twin lips mapping your skin, your chest, your nape, your neck, marking every inch of you until everything is theirs. Gruff hands, wanting hands, possessive, tearing through your clothes, charting the smoothness of your skin. Calloused, wood-hewn hands that mold to you, mold you to them, between them, till every exhale is their groans or your gasps and you don’t know where you end and they begin.

And in this dream, this fever, Ghost’s mouth finds your ear from behind, rough voice warm against your skin.

“You like this, don’t you?” he asks, like he already knows. “Greedy fucking thing.” Grabbing your waist, jerking your ass back into him; a puzzle piece that fits so snugly between himself and Soap.

You try to gasp something, maybe to deny it, but he only laughs; a purring, deadly cadence.

“Your little shivers don’t lie.”

We have officially lost cabin pressure.

And for a moment, you forget you're even awake. That fever-dream of them consuming you. But then you fall back into orbit, blinking hard enough to realize what you're actually imagining right now, and nearly hit your head against the headboard again just to make it fucking stop.

What are you– Jesus, get your head on straight, you are not – and I repeat, not – anywhere even close to the realm of fucking…

Even thinking their names makes your mind spin, or maybe that's something else.

This mission…!

Just… focus on the mission!

And let us reiterate: this tiny awful place is just fucking with all of your heads (especially yours, apparently). Making smoke of boundaries, muddying whatever lines should exist. That’s all. That’s it. And as soon as you’re out of here everything will go back to normal, it'll all be mercifully the same. Ghost and Soap won't hold these invisible strings around your heart and mind anymore, you won't still envision horrible things about them as you lie still-awake in bed.

But for now, with all of you locked up in here…

You just have to focus and avoid them.

Just. Don’t. Think. About. Them. Either of them.

The mission. Focus on the mission. (Of which you currently have little detail, as apparently you’re on the short end of a need-to-know basis, but god do you hope it ends soon).

Your morning, horny fever-dreams aside, starts with a goal as simple as that. Just don’t think about them, and for the love of god avoid being alone with either of them. Even when some part of you knows it won't be that simple, but hey, denial is a thing, a great thing, so you cling to denial and keep on chugging.

You avoid leaving your fish-tank of a room for as long as anxiety allows, only vaguely aware of how you’re chipping away at the ‘living room in twenty’ wake-up call Soap gave you, before eventually sleuthing your way out into the narrow hall, relieved to see Johnny isn't still there, as if waiting to ambush you, even though you knew he wasn't there, you can usually hear that man like a muscle-dense freight train from at least a mile away, but this place is making you more paranoid than you should be.

Still, you're relieved to find the hallway empty, and you sneak your way with all the stealth 141 has ingrained into your every sinew toward the kitchen, as if getting there in silence is a matter of life or death. Peeking your little head in to ensure neither of your gravel-toned, fever-dream apparitions are in there, before slinking in to pour cereal like a mad-woman and shovel it in your face at Mach 10 speed, and damn you should probably slow down before you chip a tooth or something.

Ash gives you a weird look, being the only person in the immediate vicinity of your apparent starvation.

"'Mornin'," he says, though his eyes question your sanity – to which you mumble something around a mouthful that might have been "hello," flashing a 'nervous?-I'm-not-nervous', chipmunk-cheeked smile (read: grimace) and stuffing your mouth even fuller to avoid speaking.

And hey, you haven't seen Ghost, you haven't actually seen Soap, and you haven't choked on your cereal – somehow. So as far as your plan of avoiding them goes, you're doing great so far! Just keep this up and this mission will be over in no time (ha!).

Tossing back the rest of your cereal, you leave your bowl in the sink as Ash nags after you to wash your dishes and you insist back that you will, later (under the safe cover of night, preferably), but right now you need to hide (the brave kind of hiding – you’re not a coward, I swear). Not in your submarine cave, because you're like a plant, you crave the sunlight. Your room is a last resort. Right now, you head toward the next best thing – your usual reading nook. You know, the one Ghost found you in yesterday, before… well, we won’t get into that. The point is, it’s the perfect place to waste hours at a time spilling over whatever old books and dog-eared magazines the one-shelf excuse of a library has to offer.

But it's here that your feet grind to a sudden halt, rooting you to the ground. Here, just outside the doorway of said reading nook. Because it's here that you see Soap.

Soap, lounging lackadaisically, without a seeming care in the world. Dark tee and dark jeans that somehow cling to his ridges in all the right places. Dust-wrapped boots already kicked up on the arm of the room's moth-bitten armchair, as he dangles a book before his face, obstructing all but his scruffy, chiseled jawline and corded neck from view.

He’s just lounging around on that armchair.

Your armchair.

Because you've been reading in here since day one, the day you all got trapped here; you saw it first.

So what is he doing in here?

He’s never in here.

And what is he reading? Does he even know how to read? He’s never reading.

You’re caught in fight-or-flight, still puzzling when alarm bells in your head start ringing – warning, warning, abort, abort, this is not a drill get the hell out of there – and you haven’t made it this far in your career not listening to your instincts when you're sound enough to have them.

You turn, you bolt, you scatter, before Soap can even glance around whatever book he’s dangling across that stupidly handsome face of his. And no, it's not exactly a graceful exit, but if you don’t heed your instincts now you may not get to later. Soap's roguish, sapphire gaze has a way of drowning out instinct and reason, as you’ve learned the hard way last night, and right now reason's telling you not to stick around and find out why the hell he's lying around pretending to read on your futon.

Nu-uh.

Nope.

Not dumb enough to slide into that one.

Best to avoid it.

Okay. So. No reading nook, then (thanks for nothing, Soap). And though you briefly consider foregoing sunlight altogether and just hiding away in your room, you instead scurry back down the hall, toward the charmingly constricted living room/kitchenette combo, supposing you'll find safety in numbers by using the safer members of your task force as a shield against those two others that plague you.

Ash, Fuze, and Blight are all crowded around the tiny box TV in the living room that only gets clear reception on three stations, like three gorillas sprawled on a toy couch, one that barely fits three guys the size of linebackers (you might’ve poked fun at how cozy they look were you not so currently twisted). And seeing that Ghost's not in the room solidifies this as your current safe haven, your preferred hiding place (or, hiding in plain sight behind a shield of tv-glued gorillas place).

And speaking of Ghost…

You clear your throat of any lingering nerves, attempting nonchalance as you make your way toward the bay window at the furthest edge of the room, a ways behind where the group of guys are sitting; settling in to sit upon its windowsill, your back against the wall.

“Where’s L.T.?” you ask with all that supposed nonchalance.

None of your team bother to glance back, too enthralled with whatever nonsense is on screen, though you know they heard you.

“Out,” Blight says. And okay, thanks for all the detail, Blight.

Still, that one word's enough to leave your brows slowly furrowing. Its potential, unstated meaning sinking in.

“He left the safehouse?” you ask, staring at the back of Blight’s head. "As in…” Dare you cling to hope? “We might be getting actual orders that get us out of here?"

Ash speaks up before Blight does.

“Hopefully,” he says, eyes still glued to the screen. “But at least some wheels are turning.”

“What kind of wheels?” you ask, not sure why you’re brushed by a fleeting edge of nerves.

“Dunno,” Ash says. “Him’n Gaz were pretty tight-lipped about it, but they’re due back in ten, hopefully with good news.”

“And a few six-packs,” Blight adds, without much enthusiasm.

"And a fucking steak would be nice," Fuze supplies, one arm sprawled along the back of the couch from where he sits, locked onto the screen. "I'm pretty sure Gaz's trying to kill us with what he thinks is cooking – I've eaten better stranded and starved on rations."

As the other boys weigh in about what a shit chef Gaz is (and they're not exactly wrong, though you don't chime in), you turn away from the group of them, staring down at the far-below streets of Amsterdam beside you, though in actuality you hardly see a thing, caught in your mind as you suddenly are.

You feel like you should be far more relieved by this than you actually end up being. And it makes no sense how this news – good news – that you might finally be unshackled from this shoebox purgatory… how it doesn’t alleviate some ache inside you, doesn’t fill you with some sweetly warm ease.

Maybe this place has given you Stockholm, because something about leaving now eats at you, like there’s something started and unfinished, and though you’re not sure what that something is you’re somehow raked by nervous claws, torn by wanting to know and never wanting to find out.

You’re being silly. You’re relieved, you’ve just forgotten what relief feels like. You’re more than ready to leave this place, you’re praying every second while trapped within this hellscape that you’ll finally be released.

This is a good thing. Finally, you’ll all be free, and you’ll never take a mission in Amsterdam again.

Whatever that annoying, gnawing feeling near your ribs is, you shove it away. And for some reason you think of Ghost, you think of Soap, and that ache comes back again.

How are you so tangled up in them?

Sure, you’re all close, closer than close, with everything you’ve been through. It’s impossible not to feel attached, not to feel somewhat vulnerable around people who’ve brushed by hell and back with you. The things you’ve all done, what you’ve all seen – it strips away layers of you, all of you, and what’s behind, what’s bared…

There’s nothing like it. It’s indescribable, what you share. You care about them more than you’d ever admit.

But that doesn’t excuse how you’re suddenly, perpetually haunted, unable to peel them from your head.

You care about all of your team, not just them – it's not supposed to be so personal, yet somehow it is. It’s tangled and raw and messy and you nearly have to laugh at that, because at least you know that Soap’s name is really Johnny – you don't even know Ghost's name, haven’t even seen his face, and yet somehow you can't stop thinking about him, like he's carved himself inside your mind, taken residence there, claiming a piece of you that you can’t get back, a piece you don’t want back, a piece that's only his.

How did your feelings evolve into whatever nightmare this is?

And speaking of nightmares.

"You're not as stealthy as you usually are this morning, love.”

A husky, familiar voice wavers in through your tangled thoughts from somewhere right in front of you, and you blink, suddenly seeing as it cheekily adds, "You might wanna work on that."

For the second time today, Soap has you startling back into hitting your head, skull thunking against the wall of the windowsill you’re perched upon, almost like he wants you to suffer a head-wound whenever he shows up out of the blue. And he definitely looks amused at whatever your face is doing right now as your owlish eyes shoot up to him.

He regards you from just beside the window, dense arms folded across the expanse of his chest. And he exhales his watchful amusement as all you can seem to do for a moment is gawk up at his magical appearance out of nowhere – ta da! – leaning one heavy shoulder against the wall the longer you go on about it.

“Someone’s jumpy,” he observes with a subtly curling grin, azure glints beneath his lashes. One corner of his lips edging wider the longer you fail to say anything, all while you resist the dire urge to just push off the windowsill and run from the potential danger of yourself around him.

"You gonna say hello, or…?" he wonders, idly. Smile too devilish to be charming, and yet he still looks charming and you hate him for it. “Ah, I see,” he muses after a time, with a sage expression of knowing. “Tongue-tied. I tend to have that effect on people. I'll give you a minute."

If anything, your dour expression only further fuels his amusement.

"What do you want, Soap?” you ask at last, doing your best not to showcase the uncomfortable flare you feel in your gut just by looking at him.

“To bother you,” he says, hiking a mischievous brow. "Is it working?"

The part of you that enjoys what were your usual back-and-forths wants to crack a smile, while all the rest of you holds back, knowing he’s bad news in a place like this, that maybe you can’t trust yourself, that the last thing you need is to encourage him.

“Yup," you say, dully. "It’s working.”

He grins. “Great,” he says, his infuriating nonchalance unaffected; gaze a slash of blue as you muster up a scowl at him.

"Has anyone ever told you how cute you are when you're in a bad mood?” he asks, eyes creasing as you once again resist the temptation to bolt. “You can't really blame me for wanting to bother you. It’s hard not to play with fire when the burn’s so appealing.”

That cheeky fucking smile of his lengthens at whatever your contorted, silent reaction to that is.

“Aye – there it is. That’s the look,” he muses, smirking as annoyance fizzles off your back. “Adorable. You look like you might wanna slap me.”

“I kinda do, actually,” you say – only half-joking. "Though maybe I'll just punch you in the face again like I did the last time you annoyed me."

“Zero to ten, just like that?” he wonders with his charming, crooked grin. “I haven’t even said ‘hello’ yet.”

You feel yourself smile before you can stop it – quickly biting your lips flat whilst turning away, staring hard out the window in the decided effort to ignore his presence.

“So say ‘hello’ and leave, then,” you mutter at the glass. “I’m kinda busy.”

"Huh. You don’t look all that busy."

"I'm people watching, not that it's any of your business."

"And that's more interesting than talking to me?"

"Is that rhetorical, or…?"

His little chuff teases warmth down your neck.

“Ah,” he lowly broods, as if in discovery of something. And you can’t help from glancing up at him again, seeing one dark brow archly lifted. “So you are avoiding me…”

You blink, thickly – trying to stem your panic, because you do not need him knowing that. If he thinks you’re avoiding him – which you very much are but that’s beside the point – he might ask the seemingly innocuous question of “why?”, and you are not answering that right now, especially when you're not even sure you know the answer yourself.

And thus, you panic (discreetly), you balk (in your head), insisting, “I’m not avoiding you.”

He doesn't necessarily look convinced.

“That’s odd,” he says, Scottish accent threaded in his words. “I could’ve sworn you tip-toed past that little reading nook you like so much just a few minutes ago.” His brow’s further lifted, that insufferable half-smirk still scrawled across his scruffy face. “Are you telling me that had nothing to do with avoiding?”

You bite your lower lip into a scowl, avoiding even his questions. “What were you doing in there, anyway? That’s my reading nook.”

“I know it is.” His blue gaze sheens. “What do you think I was doing in there?”

Your eyebrows tug into a crease, as slowly your eyes narrow up at him – all those instinctual alarm bells from earlier starting to make a helluva lot more sense.

“So you were lying in wait for me…” you accuse as much aloud.

He shrugs; boyish, adorable. “Had to get you all to myself somehow.”

His eyes warm like heated sea glass, seeming to sense that flush creeping up your neck as, for a moment, you can't seem to look away from him. And before you can look away, or make up some excuse to leave or actually slap him, he’s already pushing off from his casual, one-shouldered slouch against the wall, settling down upon the windowsill beside you.

“Guess you have a thing for audiences, though,” he murmurs, with a glance at the gorillas on the couch, glued to their screen.

When he looks back at you, he's far too close for his eyes not to capture yours.

Those alarm bells make a desperate reappearance in your head again, but you can hardly think with him watching you like that, let alone heed them. Some flicker of heat teased low in the base of your spine as his playful gaze dances over yours.

“Maybe my utter lack of enthusiasm wasn’t obvious enough,” you murmur, distracted; trying not to let the gorillas overhear whatever's happening between the two of you, especially since you don’t need their gossip playing telephone back to Ghost about something that’s actually nothing– ”but me telling you I’m busy was my unsubtle queue for you to leave.”

“Oh, I got it,” he says; attention skating across your features. Your lashes, your jaw, your eyes, your lips. “Crystal fuckin’ clear.”

And okay, maybe he actually is a little bit charming underneath how insufferably annoying he can be, because you certainly feel charmed, like you can’t look away from him.

"So you can pick up on subtle nuances,” you muse.

He smiles. "I can pick up on lots of things."

Your pulse catches as his words feel to dig inside a place you won't acknowledge, won't allow him or anyone to see, and you’re forced to swallow against a sudden knot within your throat.

"So is there a reason you're still over here harassing me then?" you wonder, folding your arms against him. “Besides you wanting me to slap you, that is? Because I’m not much in the mood for fueling your kinky fantasies this morning, though I see your last bruise’s healed nicely.”

He exhales a bearish laugh, though his mirth is slowly fading. Something more serious, like a shadow, creeping in to take its place. Timber-carved, reserved, unlike him.

“Maybe you can indulge my fantasy of you not avoiding me, then,” he suggests, gaze passing over yours, as though searching. “At least for, let's say… five minutes? Think you can handle that?"

Why do you actually gulp – god you hope he didn’t actually hear that.

"Do you always have to challenge women into spending time with you?"

One corner of his lips curls; a fox with sapphire heat for eyes. “Only the ones I’m interested in, apparently.”

It’s like he somehow strips away more and more of that now tiny voice warning you away – like he can see it happening. And he leans in just a fraction more close, his voice by your cheek, his words a gruff murmur that lures you closer just to hear them, those words meant just for you.

“I get it,” he says. “Why you’re so abrasive right now. Why you’re twisted up, lashing out. Avoiding.”

He’s so close the warmth of his body radiates into yours, like the tease of a touch you inexplicably long for.

At least, until he keeps talking.

“Whatever happened between you and L.T.–”

And just like that – the mere mention of Ghost’s name and all your feelings tied to it – the spells broken, torn from whatever trance he’s somehow spun you into.

"I don't – you don't know what–" you start to stammer, though his hand as it wraps around your forearm stills you, succeeds in pulling your anxiety-bitten gaze back to his for at least a moment more.

His touch is gentle, as if to ease you from fleeing, and yet he still seems unable not to tease you about it all the same.

"The details of which shall remain, at the lady's insistence, a badly kept secret,” he softly smirks. Chuckling as your face threatens to expel actual, embarrassed steam.

When you turn away, you’re not sure if it’s in readiment to get the hell away from him or in trying to ensure that anyone else in the room isn’t listening, though his thumb and forefinger finding your chin wipes whatever your intentions away, a warm jolt springing down your middle as he turns your uncertain gaze back to him.

“Whatever happened,” he breathes, a graveled hush as his eyes reclaim yours, “it’s got you twisted.”

A subtle smirk plays his lips at how utterly he seems to hold your attention, at how his touch makes you glass, makes you fragile before him. And even now he teases.

“And for good reason, too. L.T.’s not exactly the kinda guy I’d wanna get locked in a room with.”

You're forced to bite the inside of your cheek not to call him every insult you’ve ever heard of, so loudly everyone in the room starts tuning in.

“Please, God, make this conversation end,” you mutter instead, to which his jeweled-eyes sparkle, an added coil to his grin.

For a man his size, he somehow moves like fluid – shifting still closer, so close you’re boxed in against the wall of the windowsill behind you. So close that unthinking panic has your head dully thumping in a wavering bid to create distance, and you’re really starting to think he’s inspiring head-wounds on purpose.

His only reaction is the low laugh tucked inside his chest, one you feel vibrating through him, skittering across your bones, making your gut clench. And you can feel his voice, right beside you. You could push him away, though you don't. Somehow frozen against his warmth. Frozen, but for the shiver that travels through your spine as his whispered words graze against your ear.

“But here’s the thing, sweetheart,” he breathes, his rockslide warmth dragging all those sticky little knots inside you up into your throat. “Whatever’s twisted you up, whatever games L.T. might be playing… I’m not playing. I'm not twisted up in anything.”

The bridge of his nose skims across the delicate curve of your ear; a hum catching low in his throat as he seems to drink down the scent of you, the warmth of your nearness, those unwanted shivers he sends trickling down your nape as he murmurs, “I know exactly what I want…”

You’re not entirely sure what kind of stifled little sound wants to claw its way out of you as you hear him breathe you in again, as his hand finds your knee, but you’re not sure you want to find out; managing to bite back on it; biting still more harshly as his hand circles around your knee, squeezing, an iron grip that travels possessively upward, up along your thigh, firm fingers digging at your plushness, like he can’t contain some animal that longs to tear you open, to slip inside. And so much for your plans to avoid him, when now it feels there's nowhere you could hide.

You should say something, anything, but you can’t – especially as his fingers bite into you more harshly, as you feel a shudder travel through him, hear him stifle a coarsened breath.

“Hearing you moan someone else's name through these paper-fucking-walls…” His words sink to a growl that scrapes across your skin, pulls your insides tight, so constricted you can barely breathe. “Do you have any idea what that did to me?” he wonders, satin sawtooth heat against your ear. “What you do to me?”

You’re not sure if he’s actually asking – your throat constricting with the lack of knowing what to say.

“Johnny…”

He hums his approval, the sound like thunder in him, exhaled against your ear as his lips brush your skin.

“Aye, lass,” he says, his hand smoothing up around your waist, taking hold as though you belong to him; calloused thumb spilling up beneath your shirt, down below the waistband of your jeans, tracing along the ridge of your hip. “That’s the only name I want on your lips.”

You fail to choke back a gasp as his tongue finds your earlobe, sucking it in between his hungry teeth, and it's both exquisite and torturous how the heat of his mouth spears straight down between your legs, lapping between how tightly your thighs twist together, as though your body’s betraying how much you need him there; a white-hot ache that pulls a whimper from your throat, crackling across all your glass-hewn pieces.

“S-Soap,” you stammer, as if his codename will save you where his given name could not – somehow still present enough not to waver above a trembled hush, even with his tongue and teeth against your skin, traveling down your throat, marking and making a meal of you. And though you grab his wrist as if to push him away, you don't succeed in actually tearing his touch from you, even as you choke out desperately, “Stop…!”

He doesn’t listen. Instead taking the back of your neck, dragging you in to kiss him.

Rough fingers coil in your hair, twisting, tangled in you as you exhale a small, startled noise against his lips, before, before…

Everything’s hot. Everything’s melting. You can’t think.

He licks inside your mouth, and with another breathy sound against his lips, you kiss him back, desperate for his warmth, his taste; as though lost in a storm that rises and consumes, that would see you torn to pieces but for the anchor of him you cling to.

You’re lost, and you're hopeless, and you're senseless and you need him.

You grab his shirt as he swallows down that little sound you make, tongue sinking inside your warmth, and suddenly you’re his. His to possess, his to do what he wants with.

Your heart nearly shatters through your ribs at the granite-coarse sound he makes against your tongue, before he’s kissing you more fiercely, gruff fingers twisting at your roots.

He pauses only long enough to tease you, because of course he does.

“Stop, she says,” he murmurs at your lips. “Slap me, and maybe I will.” Not waiting before his tongue draws yours back out to play, to belong to him.

And some vicious part of you wants to slap him, if only to disrupt how fucking cocky he is, but the wet, eager heat of his mouth erases all your thoughts until it feels like you can’t even breathe unless you’re breathing him.

This is when the front door of this dingy little Amsterdam apartment unlocks; a distant, metallic scratching.

This is when the front door of this dingy little Amsterdam apartment opens; itself thrown casually ajar.

Right now. With your and Johnny’s tongues wrapped halfway down each other’s throats. Because of course it does – you love an audience, right?

Twenty minutes are up.

“Fucking finally…!”

You somehow hear Blight's voice clamor through the fog surrounding your thoughts, like a ship horn far from shore; carving through the mist, growing louder, more clear, more jarring as he adds, “Please tell me we’re getting out of here, Ghost – I'm one Gaz-cooked meal away from blowing my own brains out.”

And then it hits you – reality punching you in the chest, all your nerves upended, and still it takes a single second – a single, time-defying second – to actually register, to react, to realize what the fuck you’re actually doing right now, making out with Soap in the fucking living room what the hell are you thinking–!

A single second. And then you tear yourself away, twist your kiss-plushed lips from Soap’s – jerking back, shooting to your feet, edging out a shaky step against the wall as though you’ll crumble without it supporting you. Eyes overwide as apprehension tears your heart out, and even then some ache pushes through your chest, pushing through your ribs, like it wants to climb right out of you, climb anywhere where it might at last be tended, at last be soothed, and you shove it violently away, just as you do all those tangled feelings inside you.

You see Blight shifting up off the couch, sauntering toward the door just a few feet ahead of him. And you don’t know why you’re panicking, but you're panicking, it seizes through you like a ricocheting round as you see Ghost and Gaz standing there. Gaz’s lips moving, saying something you can’t even hear as he shuts the door behind them.

Blight’s talking too, you think. Saying something to Ghost. And it feels like it’s been so long since you’ve actually seen your lieutenant, even when it’s only been a day.

Ghost isn’t looking at Blight.

He’s a shadow-carved monolith. A black smudge against a silver eclipse. A hooded omen with kohl-bruised eyes and a skull’s broad, pallid jawline sewn to the lower half of his face.

Tall. Imposing.

Rigid.

He’s a mountain of unknown intention. And he’s looking right at you.

Something about him snares you from all the way across the room. Grips your very bones, snatching them and you into his possession. There is no escape from the way he’s watching you. His eyes are chasmic, labyrinthian; dark, unreadable voids above his skeletal mask.

Those eyes suck you in, fill your chest and heart and lungs with their darkness. They slide against your marrow, inscribing words you’ll never see unless you tear yourself open.

And then those eyes fall to Johnny.

Ghost can transcend humanity when he wants to. You’ve seen it before, in the field. A rare and dangerous occurrence where he’s more beast than man. But you never thought whatever monster lie in him would ever direct itself at Soap. Would ever watch him like he’s watching him right now.

It’s a look that could bend iron around you. Could hollow your insides out, leave you a rib-caged cavity. A jackal look. A beast that bares its blood-stained teeth as the other jackals stalk near.

That look could stop your very heart from beating, and for a moment you swear it does, even when it’s not directed at you. Just being in its presence is stifling. Those eyes of Ghost’s a noose, a cattle-gun, a guillotine.

If people are still talking, you can no longer hear anything beyond the thud of your own heart restarting. Can no longer see anything else at all in that room. All you can see is Ghost, and all you can feel is that darkness radiating off him.

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

[ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] I think Ghost might be mildly pissed off.

Thanks for reading!

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - It’s My Birthday!

April 2023 Wk 4

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs. Organized by which ones (in each category) I’m enjoying most.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Step By Step (Thai Tues WeTV & Gaga) ep 2 of 10 (MDL says 12, but Gaga says 10) - Baby made a friend! Yay. I hope they stay friends. Up looks so good. Also, drama with exes! Excellent. This is awful grown up for a BL, esp a pulp. I think it may be more just a gay office romance than BL, but I love it no matter what. 

La Pluie (Sat iQIYI) ep 1 of 10 - I love it. Strange premise to get at the fated mates trope but it stars one of my top picks to get his own BL. Been waiting since TT2 for this boy to feature. Tai is cute. It’s good. Except the singing. But we can’t have it all. 

Our Skyy 2 (Star in My Mind) eps 3-4 - Dao is THE MOST SPOILED. But clearly Kluen prefers it that way. This was cute, but frankly a little bit boring. Kluen is clearly Thai for whipped. 8/10 

Future (Thai Sun YouTube & Gaga) ep 5 of 6 - they added an additional ep because, why not? It’s a soap not a story, it doesn’t matter. MOAR softness for usssss! Drama llama boys continue to be overdramatic to the point of melodramatic to the point of ludicrous-dramatic. 

Pastsenger (Thai Weds Gaga) ep 8 of 12 eps - This is not as good as My Engineer but Marc makes for a much better pair with Cooper. It’s still not great but hey… and then HE PICKED UP A GUITAR. NOOOOOO!!!!!

A Boss and a Babe (Fri YouTube) ep 9 of 12 - Is that a character in a GMMTV show actually trying to communicate? Say it isn’t so! Did you notice in order to calm Cher down Gun dropped to pom to put them on a more equal footing? Sweet. Cher is a tiny idiot for taking the blame for some random other coworker. Why? Omg this show. 

The Promise (Thai Weds YT & WeTV) ep 6 of 10 - So it was a real serious total kiss kiss with both very drunk. And that’s why he ran? Sigh. This show sucks. How can we root for this couple especially when the faen fatal (Boss) is THAT HOT and so sweet. (To be fair I can’t decide if I want Boss or his outfits more). Phu should just not come back, who needs him? So they really are going to just keep drawing this one premise out the whole show? 

Tin Tam Jai (Tues Gaga & iQIYI) ep 9 of 10 - yawn 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Our Dining Table AKA Bokura no Shokutaku (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - They are cutest EVER - charming and awkward and sweet. I love the way the state of the food is used as an illustration for the state of the emotions of the characters. The loneliness of heating up a solitary meal bought from a convenience store in the microwave. The joy of memory of shared meals. What a lovely show.  

The Eighth Sense (Korea Weds Viki) eps 9-10fin - To be honest, I was dreading this one. JH is such a first-time love bebe. I liked how realistic everybody’s behavior was to the university age bracket. We even got some proper boyfriends phase which is too damn cute for words. I do not think that JW should have made up with his evil friend. I love the way JW’s shoulders relax the moment he sees JH. This was really good show... 

One of the longest BLs Korea has given us and (like Blueming) it feels more atmospheric gay coming of age romance than strictly BL. It’s got a bit of an age gap, country boy/city boy, stellar acting, complex characters, and leads with good chemistry and tension. It’s a bit chewy and sticky and less perfect than most KBLs (do I detect a touch of Taiwan?). This one deployed BL tropes (messy eater, shoulder sleep, protective seme, there’s even some hyung-slinging) but front loaded them, with tons angst driving the 2nd half. This isn’t in the KBL bubble, there’s sharp edges and lots of triggers. For a BL the darkness of the content left me feeling unsettled but it did have a glorious ending and that counts for a lot. 9/10 HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

Happy Merry Ending (Korea Thurs Gaga) eps 1-2 of 8 - No shade (ha!) but I do think Leo would have been better in the role of the singer (SJ) but I’m okay with Dongwon. JH is a nice flirty bit of sunshine. SJ is clearly the most anxiety-riddled socially awkward broken baby evers. I’m not sure about this kinda angst, it’s not really my thing especially on the back of The Eighth Sense. Look, I’ve never been one for a fixer-upper. We shall see, I guess? This is the beauty of KBL, so short most of the time that it’s low commitment no matter my reservations. 

My Story (Pinoy Sat YouTube) ep 3 of 10 - it’s fine I guess? 

Naked Dinner AKA Zenra Meshi (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 3 of 12 - I guess the fetish matches are finding each other? How v Japan. Of course I like the conversation about names and protocols. 

It’s Airing But ...

Love Syndrome (Thai Sat WeTV) stopped at ep 2 of 12 - I’m just not into any aspect of it (except Lee Long Shi and I can watch him in Tin Tem Jai) - saving to binge if the end is solid.

Venus in the Sky (Sat YouTube) pilot/tester?) 0 of 10 - not entirely sure what’s up with this one distribution-wise, but the pilot was classic university-set pulp. I hope it happens because the leads are cute with good chemsitry and I thought it was fun. However, this pilot holds together as its own little short too.

Make a Wish (Thai Weds ?) stars Fluke Natouch (OhmFluke UWMA etc...) & Judo (The Miracle Of Teddy Bear) in a medical-fantasy. About a doctor who sees ghosts and a deity who resides in a Bodhi tree that earns merits whenever he fulfills a wish, based on a y-novel by Sammon (Manner of Death, Triage). Same as above.

Stormy Honeymoon (Vietnam) - I’m tired of these characters 

In Case You Missed It

Star Hunter dropped all their trailers for 2023 on their YT channel. Bit late in the year IMHO. Nothing really stuck out.

Big Dragon the movie = more of the same

True Moon = yet another loosely disguised attempt at the 2 Moons franchise?

Flirt Milk = standard pulp fodder, but they are cute

Acadex = The Eclipse + Destiny Seeker + Harry Potter 4 + The CW, as a movie that may not be BL 

Sunset Vibes = Big Dragon pair as a one night stand but “uh-oh he’s my boss!” I’m game. Maybe it’ll have a better story? Maybe it will have a plot? Maybe... oh who am I kidding. It’ll be high heat and that’s about all we can hope for. 

City of Stars AKA Fueangnakorn = An actor falls in love with a programmer and the narrative intends to “explore the ramifications of being public figure in the social network era who must endure critics, bullying, and defamation.” Looks like another Lovely Writer/Call It What You Want sort of thing.

The biggest shocker is how few they fielded of their original BL stable.

ALSO:

Love Senior = SOTUS but make it GL (I’m not mad about this one, it’s about flipping time. But it’s GL so I won’t track it, although I will watch it.)

Next Week Looks Like This:

Coming in May 2023:

5/1 House of Stars (Thai iQIYI) - An LGBTQ actor in love with an actor from another company, plus other wanna be stars all trapped in a doom house together. 

5/4 Love Mate (Korea Viki) 8 eps- Office romance between a team leader and a new employee who agree to date for 3 months to find true love, from the makers of Our Dating Sim.

5/18 - Starstruck (Korea ????) - A boy has had a crush on his childhood friend for a long time. Stars Zuho (Kpop SF9 - noted Good Egg) opposite rookie actor Kim In Sung (as the one with the crush). 

5/27 The Luminous Solution (Thai ????) 10 eps - Thana is having trouble at work and in his relationship. He can't seem to catch a break. So he makes a wish to change everything. But every wish has a price.

2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED)

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

I do like a tie (or nametag) grab kiss. (Boss & Babe) 

Our Skyy 2 SIMM ep summing it all up and reviewing itself.

Future the series, I like this reverse claiming thing. So cute. 

The boyfriends eps are the BEST eps. The Eighth Sense. 

I WANT BOSS’S OUTFITS. 

My favorite, “there is only one bed but we slept together on the floor anyway.” (The Promise) 

Now that is a claim that MUST be proved. 

Loves the little babies with their killer communication style. 

What do I always say about a BL that reviews itself? All from Destiny Seeker. (I’m getting caught up, I’ll post a review of the series when I’m done.)

(last week)

Current Kpop earworm? UO’s Restart 

[specialagentlokitty]

Prentiss x male!reader - Christmas with family

HI! Please could I request a trans!male reader x Emily Prentiss fic! So I’m really not feeling very festive this year, and part of that is not having anywhere I feel that I belong, and I wondered if you’d mind writing a Christmas fic where the BAU finds out whilst on a case that the reader has spent the last few Christmases alone because his transphobic family cut him off when he came out. Of course the BAU (Season 4 team if possible please!) won’t let him spend this Christmas alone, & have fun with how they achieve that! Thanks in advance! - @the-imitation-blog 💜

Sitting in front of the woman in front of you, you placed a coffee cup down and offered her a warm smile.

“Thank you..” she whispered.

“You’re welcome, it’s cold and apparently this place sucks when it comes to heating.”

She smiled a little bit but it soon fell.

“I know you didn’t hurt anybody.” You said.

“You do? How can you tell?”

You leant back in the chair.

“Well, for starters you willingly came with me when I said that I needed to talk to you, you’ve had numerous times to run away give the chance, and you’re a very tidy person, whoever did this is messy and uncoordinated, and given your choice of a very cute llama sweater with those white jeans and white shoes, I’m going to say you’re very clean and coordinated.”

She smiled and nodded her head.

“Yeah, nothing works with a red jumper like white. If I’m not a suspect then why am I here..?”

“I have reason to believe you’re a potential next victim, so, for now I’d like to keep you here until my team are sure. Is that alright? If not you can go home and we’ll have officers at the door.”

“No! No, I’d rather say here.”

You carried on speaking to the woman in front of you, doing anything to try and distract her from the thought of somebody possibly being after her.

The hours slipped past and you watched as your team returned, watching Rossi and Hotch lead a man through hallway.

“We’ve got our unsub.” Derek said.

You smiled at her.

“Are you ready to go home?”

“Actually… can I stay here…?”

You glanced to the rest of your team who shrugged slightly.

“Sure, is there a reason why?”

“My family are coming over… we don’t really get along and if they see I’m not home they’ll go..”

“You’d rather spend Christmas alone then spend it with family?” JJ asked.

“Trust me, if you knew them you’d understand.”

“I personally don’t see anything wrong with spending Christmas alone, you can sleep, eat whatever you want, watch whatever you want.” You said.

“Really?” Rossi asked.

“Yeah, it’s not for everyone. But, for now I’m going to find something to eat.”

You got up and wondered away to one of the cars, heading around the town to find a good takeout.

Finding a pizza place, you got a few and made your way back to the station.

The woman had left, and you sat down at the table, setting the boxes down only leaving one in front of you so you could eat from it.

“So, what are your Christmas plans?” Emily asked.

You glanced up.

“I’m going to get a great bottle of whiskey, get some Indian from that place down the street from me and then play a few games I think.”

“Really?” Hotch asked.

You grinned a little bit.

“Yeah, it’s what I do every year, it’s pretty fun.”

“What about your family?” Reid asked.

You shrugged a little bit.

“What about them? They don’t want anything to do with me and I want nothing to with them, all there is to it.”

You stood up, grabbing your keys and bag and left, making your way back to the hotel.

That made it clear to them that you didn’t want to take part in the conversation that they were having, and they decided not to push it any further.

But it plagued Emily’s mind, she often spent Christmas by herself, it was pretty normal for her, but she always thought that you went somewhere.

You never responded to any calls or texts, you always seemed pretty happy and content.

As Christmas dawned closer, it kept bothering her, and finally she rounded everybody but you into the conference room, determined to do something about it.

It was now Christmas Eve, and you were walking around your apartment in a pair of sweatpants, a very oversized sweater and a takeout menu in your hands.

You went to sit down but stopped when you heard the banging in your door.

“Yeah! Yeah! I’m coming cool it!”

Walking over, you saw Emily stood there with a little grin on her face, and she held up a few bags.

“You got whiskey?”

“You bet, got some other stuff too.”

You let her in, closing the door again and she walked into the living room, setting the bags down.

“So, what crap we got?” You asked.

Emily tossed her jacket on the back of your couch and watched as you went through the bags, pulling out some simple decorations.

“Seriously?”

“Hey if I’ve got them up, you need them up.”

You laughed and she grinned.

She left while you were separating the decorations and came back with two glasses, pouring you both a drink.

“Can we watch some films before making it look like Christmas threw up in here?”

“Sure, I’m staying anyway.”

“Do I get a say?”

“Nope.”

You smiled a little at her.

The pair of you watched a few films, then began putting up the lights and tinsel, and while you were doing that, she began decorating the few houseplants you had around the room.

“Why do you spend Christmas alone?”

“Transphobic parents.”

Emily stopped, glancing at you.

“Screw them.”

You laughed a little at her, nodding your head in agreement.

For the whole night you just watched films, played some games until you eventually fell asleep.

When you woke up you could smell food and heard talking, and you woke up to a full living room, your whole team and their families laughing and chatting away.

“(Y/N)!”

You smiled, catching the boy who jumped at you.

“Hey Jack, what’s up? Why’re you here?”

“To celebrate Christmas with you!”

You looked at everybody who beamed brightly at you, then Emily who was smiling a little from the corner of the room.

Of course she would put something like this together, but it was nice to see your whole team there, your family

[sirianasims]

tagged by @theosconfessions & @budgie2budgie ❤️

oc deep dive with Paul Romeo

What uncommon/common fear do they have? Paul's fears are mostly common things like losing the people he loves. He also has a minor phobia of needles, so while he likes the idea of tattoos, he never got any himself.

Do they have any pet peeves? It annoys him deeply when people are flaky, late, or keep changing their mind. He respects people who keep their promises and stand by their convictions, even if he disagrees with them.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? Lots of books, especially fantasy, sci-fi and comic books but also non-fiction. Condoms and lube. A large television because the best way to watch movies is in bed.

What do they notice first in a person? How they move. Paul is a very visual person and appreciates beauty, and people who move with elegance and confidence always catch his attention. Personality-wise, their sense of humour. Paul cannot deal with people who don't have a sense of humour.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance? 8. He does his own stunts and spends a lot of time in the gym, physical pain is just the body's warning sign and a temporary inconvenience.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? Fight. It takes a lot to make Paul truly angry, he's a pretty calm and controlled person, but if he had to defend someone he loves, he would do anything.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? His mother didn't have much family when she left Henford behind so he doesn't know any relatives on her side. His father comes from a huge and influential Tartosan family and had 4 brothers and a sister, so Paul has lots of aunts, uncles and cousins. He is very much a family person and is getting increasingly worried that it might soon be too late to start his own.

What animal represents them best? A lion.

What is a smell that they dislike? Sambuca. Remember the first time you got so drunk that you threw up and now you can never drink that again? Paul remembers.

Have they broken any bones? During his career as Llama Man (and doing most of his own stunts), Paul has broken a couple of fingers, his collarbone, and a few toes, but nothing that didn't heal up nicely, thankfully.

How would a stranger likely describe them? Charismatic and funny. It takes a while to discover that Paul is actually surprisingly introverted, his career considered.

Are they a night owl or a morning bird? Paul has no problem getting up early if he has to, but he likes staying up late just to talk, read or watch a movie, or have sex.

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love? Paul is not picky when it comes to food in general, but he is one of those unfortunately people who can't eat cilantro because it tastes like soap to him. He loves a good quality olive oil and will put it on everything. Yes, even vanilla ice cream. With sea salt. You should try it.

Do they have any hobbies? Watching B-movies; the worse they are, the better. Reading. He used to ride his uncle's horses a lot before he moved to Del Sol Valley, and he'll still go for a ride when he visits Tartosa if he can.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? Paul isn't too fond of the unexpected, so he might initially not be too excited. But he'd still be happy that his loved ones thought of him and wanted to celebrate him, so he'd get over it quickly and enjoy himself.

Do they like to wear jewelry? The only "jewelry" Paul wears is his father's priced gold watch. He's been wearing it since his father's funeral and takes extremely good care of it. He would very much like to wear a wedding ring too some day...

Do they have neat or messy handwriting? Pretty neat. His signature is very fancy because he practiced it a lot for autographs.

What are two emotions they feel the most? Confidence and yearning.

Do they have a favorite fabric? Satin. Paul loves luxury and comfort, and satin hits the spot for both texture and aesthetics. His sheets and bedding is mostly satin.

What kind of accent do they have? As a voice actor, Paul has tried to rid himself of most of his natural accent, but especially after visiting home, a bit of Tartosan sneaks back in. He also tends to have a slight Henford accent from his mother, but he can mostly switch in and out of voices and accents at will.

Thank you for the ask! I am tagging @hannahssimblr @lynzishell @rebouks @theplottdump and @thebramblewood as well as anyone else who wants to do it ❤️

[toxic3mmy]

Holaa, perdón por no mandarla antes pero andaba ocupada con tareas. Bueno mi idea era que el lector se enferma cuando Quackity esta de viaje en México y se lo intenta ocultar, tipo cuando el la llama ella pretende andar bien cuando no, solo para no preocuparlo pero al final el se entera.

me encanta la idea! gracias por el request!!

prompt: alex finds out that you’re sick while he’s in mexico

lovey dovey, sweet alex bf, you’re feeling sickly, fluff

no warnings, all fluff!!!

________________________________________

it was christmas time. the weather was very cold and it made you feel even more alone. your boyfriend alex was in mexico for the holidays. you were home alone, left to deal with a terrible cold.

it was the second week since alex left and you woke up in a cold sweat. your head was spinning and you felt the worst you’ve ever felt. you grab the thermometer on your bedside table and stick it in your mouth. as you wait for the beep, your body starts shaking and you realize you definitely aren’t okay.

“103.6…. wow, that’s too high” you whisper to yourself

at that same moment, your phone was ringing and you saw it was alex facetiming you. you quickly flatten your messy hair and wipe your sweaty face before answering.

“hi my love… how are you?”

you smile at his voice and respond in a slightly raspy manner,

“hi alex… im fine, i just miss you a lot”

“y/n are you sure you’re okay? you sound like you’re sick.. do i need to come home early? i hate that you’re alone and you seem super sick or—”

“no! um… no im fine! i just woke up so it’s probably why my voice is so raspy. don’t ruin your holiday for me, please? i know how much you love to be in mexico with your family for christmas and new years… i just want you to have fun okay?”

after a few silent moments he finally responds,

“yeah… okay y/n. but i swear to god you better not be lying to me about being sick or i swear…”

“you’ll what? fly back this very instant? haha, very funny” you tease

“oh just you wait chiquita, you won’t be laughing when im… never mind. anyways, i hope you’re doing well and i seriously miss your carita linda y/n. i have to go now but, te extraño tanto”

“i love you… take care baby”

and at that moment, alex noticed something in the corner of the facetime. he saw a bunch of used tissues, mugs with tea, and your thermometer on your bedside table. before the two of you hung up, alex quickly screenshot the facetime and said goodbye.

he looked closer at the image and saw there were medicines there, too. the thermometer, although unreadable from this angle, glowed a red light on the screen indicating that the temperature was feverish. alex was more than worried. as he explained the situation to his family, they all agreed that he should go home to tend to his beloved girlfriend.

back at home, y/n was getting worse. you struggled to sleep because of how badly your lungs were hurting and filling with nasty phlegm. your fever hadn’t gone down one bit. damn those cheap fever pills.

you had planned on showering but you need to work up the energy and so you took a long needed nap.

at the same time, alex had already hopped on a plane and was just about to land in california. he caught an uber to the nearest grocery store and collected everything he needed to help you. he quietly walked into your shared home and heard you lightly snoring from your bedroom.

he got to work immediately. he made the best mexican caldo de pollo con arroz that he could, just like his mother taught him. after a bit, he heard you getting up and assumed you were going to shower and so he continued to cook.

you were feeling absolutely awful now but you figured maybe a shower will do the trick. you stepped into the shower and the hot water felt very soothing. suddenly, you began to feel very lightheaded and see darkness creeping in from your peripheral vision. you saw black all at once.

alex heard a loud thud and quickly ran up to your restroom to see y/n unconscious and passed out in the shower.

“oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck… y/n please! im here, please wake up amor” alex hurriedly changed the water to cold and began to splash you awake. you saw black and then a flash of bright light came over you as you heard the most angelic voice ever.

“alexis?” you whispered in a confused manner

“oh my god y/n! im so so sorry i left you. you passed out and it scared me and i—“

“what are you doing here? you were just in mexico this morning..”

“mi amor,” he began as he wrapped my body in a blanket and ran the bath so i could get clean, “i saw all those things on your bedside table when i called you earlier and the moment i saw that red thermometer, i knew you weren’t okay”

you were in shock, you felt so many emotions and couldn’t even get one word out

“come here baby, sit in the tub and i’ll get your clothes ready okay?”

you nodded and sat in the warm bubbly tub. it felt nice and you didn’t have to waste your energy standing up. alex laid out some comfortable clothes for when you finished and he returned to the bathroom.

“close your eyes mi princesa” you obliged and felt alex scrubbing your long hair with shampoo.

you felt so relaxed and so grateful for your sweet boyfriend. you were too tired to say or do much so you let him bathe you. he soon helped you out of the bath and into some warm and comfortable clothes. he laid you in bed and left for a few minutes.

you closed your eyes and began to drift off into sleep. you woke up when you heard alex come back. he had a little table set up with some soup, a warm tea, and some medicine.

“i’m not upset with you okay? i just wish you had told me you weren’t feeling well… i mean, what would have happened if i weren’t here when you passed out in the shower? i just want you to be okay y/n.. so please, just let me take care of you okay?”

all you could do was nod and alex began to give you medicine for your fever and body pain. then he slowly started to feed you warm soup. it was very delicious. he also helped you drink your warm tea.

“alex… thank you so much for everything. im sorry i decided not to tell you but im really glad that you’re here with me. i feel better already”

alex smiled and continued to feed you. soon he helped you lay down and he tucked you in. he played some background noise and gave you a kiss on your forehead.

“te amo y/n… im sorry youre not feeling well… i hope you get better soon mi amor”

and with that, you fall asleep soundly.

[llamagoddessofficial]

Llama I just got a big brain moment

What if MC has a crush on Papyrus?? Like any of the Papyruses from your aus where he’s around? How would Sans/Red/Skull react?

Imagine the ✨drama✨

oh dear

Sans: It makes sense. His bro is super cool, right? Who wouldn’t love his bro? The second he catches on that she likes Pap, and I mean literally the moment he draws those “oh” dots, he violently crushes his romantic feelings under his slipper crocs. Her friendship is still valuable to him- he can bond with her over their shared appreciation of how cool his brother is, right? He can enjoy her proximity, let her know he approves, make her feel welcomed to the skeleton family. Sans is content to be skipped, he wants his two favourite people in the world to be happy.

Nobody will ever know how often he dreams about her.

Red: It depends pretty intensely on how his Pap feels about Mc.

It Pap likes her back, Red just works hard to convince himself that his feelings are a fluke that will disappear eventually, even as time only solidifies them. If Mc reaches his brother’s impossible standards for a datemate, the two of them are clearly meant for each other. He just pines from afar, trying to distract himself with alcohol and other partners... it hurts, to have someone he adores so close yet so far, but if it makes them both happy he can convincingly act like it doesn’t hurt. He might drunkenly flirt once or twice, but that’s it- time will make pretending easier.

... But if Pap doesn’t like her back, Red gets... spiteful. Red is so desperate to get closer to her, he craves her attention & love more and more as time goes on- she gives that precious attention to Pap and he’s rejecting it? He’s wasting it. She deserves better. Though he inserts himself as her shoulder to cry on, he’s pissed, and it would for sure cause some friction between the brothers. Pap is frustrated and Red is jealous. Red doesn’t normally get attached enough to get jealous, but when he does, he’s got a pretty intense mean streak.

Skull: Oh dear x10

It’s messy for everyone. The first time Skull has fallen in love, and she likes his brother instead... a real big oof. Skull understands someone not liking him, he’s not exactly a pretty picture- but it still stings. Pap would immediately see how much she means to Skull, and would try to either let her down gently, or steer her toward his brother instead.

... Skull might come across as prickly, around her. He rarely looks at/speaks to her, he’s feeling a lot of things all at the same time and it makes him hard to communicate with, he usually vacates the room if she’s there because it’s just too much and he isn’t emotionally secure enough to handle it all. He also has a tendency to blurt out that he loves her, which can make a situation... a lot more awkward.

Skull is the most likely to end up pushing his affection onto her. Sans and Red can contain themselves, but Skull isn’t exactly famous for his self control. He might growl at someone she talks to, or get lost in his head while looking at her and try to go in for a kiss. Every rejection hurts a little more, but no matter what happens, he just can’t stop his Soul from yearning.

[ryattcos]

i have finally finished tgcf and can give better opinion of some of my favorite characters.

xie lian- my baby! i love him. he must be protected at all costs. but also…. he kinda hot when he goes all martial god…. that’s all i’m saying. also, i love that even though he’s unlucky, he’s highly perceptive of things and people around him. he notices things. i want to give squishmallows.

hua cheng- plz let me tell him that he’s worthy. plz let me tell him he matters. my god, this man needs more softness in his life. so much suffering. give him squishmallows too! he would appreciate soft stuff too!

feng xin- a likable, dependable labrador. he is simply a good man and a good body guard. he follows his orders to a t and tries to do things the right way.

mu qing- just a bitch. an understandable bitch, but like… a bitch. i think he is a complex character and i loved when he was talking to xie lian abs being vulnerable he was able to admit his feelings were complex and messy. i couldn’t be in the same room as him. but i get it.

shi qingxuan- oh, my absolute favorite gender-fluid icon. thank you! they are such a true friend to xie lian and over all give me comfortable and safe vibes. they would listen to you vent, and they would judge you but they wouldn’t hold it against you.

pei ming- i think general fuckboi is an outstanding character. i think he would absolutely ignore me. i love that even though he’s a whore, he’s up front about it. the slutification of pei mingvis the only thing i’m here for right now. he definitely needs more respect women juice, but he has solid potential.

lang qianqiu- he gives me pretty boy vibes. idk what it is, but he gives me “better than thou” for most of the story. he does redeem himself once he has had his revenge, so like, i get it.

quan yizhen- he is a great dane. giant, floppy, goofy. could break through the wall like the koolaid man. he reminds me of a colt. like a young horse. horse people will get that one.

jun wu- mommy milkers and morality don’t go hand in hand unfortunately. so the biggest tits award also goes to the biggest fuck ass award. cuz holy trauma llama…

i’m sure i’ll have more thoughts but these are just the ones off the top of my head. bed time ramblings if you will.

[fallenrain40]

yip yip !!! <3

Welcome to my blog! you can call me Autumn, Fallen, Wolf, or Dove! sorry this is all VERY messy and unorganized xD besties blogs: @unofficial-crow , guard dog bestie @llama-li , amethyst bestie. 🌕✨💫 my pronouns page is here! my full xenogender list is here!! I am VERY AROACE. I am also greyplatonic (plato-favorable). my gender is uhmm uhmm error 404 gender not found. (somehow genderfluid and agender and 100 xenos at the same time) Oh and I'm autistic and t1 diabetic so, yippee. i also probably have adhd but we dont talk about that. i'm an INFP and my sun sign is Cancer, take this info as you will :3 my bday is june 24th (pride birthday hell yeah) i'm pretty vocal about my lovelessness as an aroace, if that makes you uncomfortable pls block me. PRONOUNS: bolded are the ones i favor atm.

ey/em she/her coy/coys they/them it/its wolf/wolv 🌟🌄🌟 my theriotypes: Coyote/Prairie Wolf, Cryptid, Wolf or Werewolf. my fiction kintypes: Dovewing, Starlight Glimmer, The Collector. my heartypes: Domestic Cat (? might be a full theriotype?) questioning: Deer, Fox, Snow Leopard, Unicorn. Maybe another mythical creature as well. Probably several of my OCs. Possibly a storm conceptkin. Alastor and multiple other fictional characters, but I'm not 100% sure on any of them. Not all are listed here due to me being unsure enough to want to say anything about it. Also some are just a little odd. If some are removed, it does not mean I am not still questioning them, just not publicly.

💫🌕✨ I post art here sometimes!! I tag it with #autumn's art, #fallen's art, or for older stuff, #wolf's art. however some older stuff isnt tagged. I do not allow my art to be used to train AI. 🌟🌄🌟 feel free to ask me things!! you can request warrior cats pride icons whenever you want :p maybe even send in your warriors OCs if u want heh

if smth has a lesser known flag pls specify which one you want! 🌕✨💫 my toyhouse page is HERE !!!

(stamps above by @dizzy-lights and @allthe-lights-inthe-sky )

if you like any of my posts, I'd appreciate if you reblogged! <33

GET LOST APHOBES. I WILL EAT YOU. SHIPPING AROACE CHARACTERS WHO DO NOT HAVE CANON RELATIONSHIPS IS AROACE ERASURE.

[sabineelectricheart]

Distracted, Desperate, Determined [Pt. 1]

Summary: Baxter is having difficulty focusing on his work these days, ever since his seamstress hired a new assistant to help around the office.

Rating: R - Content features heavy themes. Not suitable for most audiences. Consult warnings before proceeding.

Explicit depictions of violence. Reader discretion is highly advised.

Words: 1038

Notes: Don’t be deceived, boo. Things go down fast with this one.

Baxter was a man, distracted.

Distracted. Divided. Not inattentive, but pulled away from his responsibilities by a force he couldn’t name and could not say he cared for, either. He was not a stranger to romantic inclinations, fantasies, sudden flings, slow-burning inclinations that died the moment his attention was called elsewhere. Predictably, the few relationships he allowed himself were short-lived, at best disastrous at worst, but he did not have a problem with that.

If anything, he appreciated it. He had always thought of company as optional, and what little loneliness he was still capable of feeling could be drowned with a generous glass of indulgently expensive wine. He was not one to linger, he tried not to overstay his welcome.

He had been sentimental, once, too emotional for his own good, and he had learned his lesson, he remembers how excruciatingly painful it had been for him to wane himself off that attachment, how far he fled from everything. He did not intend to change. He did not want to change.

Yet, here he was. Back to the same well. Distracted all over again.

He could not think. He could not focus. It was all he could do to look like he might’ve been trying to read the most recent file left on his desk. It was about another tech bro wedding in Santa Clara, the sort of thing that was burdensome and required too much air travel, but that paid his bills for months on end. It was a bunch of invoices, travelling bills, vision photos, proposals, budgets and requests, stuff to sift through and organize. A drag that he probably would have dealt with days ago, if he had been able to concentrate.

He made a half-hearted effort to straighten his back as the door to his office began to open, but Baxter dropped the act quickly, abandoning it completely by the time he heard the sound of heeled boots against hollow tile, caught a glimpse of a familiar, albeit rarely used, catalyst, searched for eyes and found the cover of a thin book. Instead, the lovely face was still buried in some novel as the person stepped through the threshold, not bothering to knock.

It was Jamie Last. He should have known it would be her. Who else did he deserve? Jamie, his in-house seamstress’ new assistant. Jamie, the latest addition to his tight social circle. Jamie, his current, infuriating, unshakable fixation. Jamie, the new employee who had not paid him so much as a passing glance since her arrival, much to his frustration.

She did not look at him. She rarely ever does, but today it hurt more than it usually did, as she dropped another stack of papers onto his desk, letting it replace the greeting she had forgotten to offer.

“Xavier needs you to sign this.” She started, laying out her priorities clearly, a skill that he was beginning to resent. “It’s their bill for their services on the Ackerton wedding last week. They said that, if you don’t want to read it, I’m supposed to look the other way.”

Ah, they must have inflated the numbers a bit, under the guise of a “rush order” expense. Not that they do not have a point on that, as the ludicrous ingredients on the desserts must not have been easy to source. Well, the Ackertons were too wealthy for their own good, they would not mind covering the extra hundreds when he sends them the full bill.

Baxter glanced over the rows of numbers, the messy hand-writing, the columns of meaningless gibberish that blended together into a mess of ink and digits, skipping over black truffles, llama milk and Himalayan salt. He takes their suggestion, scrawling his name across the only blank line. It was a lost cause, especially with her in the room. Especially with her unoccupied hand resting on his desk, her fingertips idly tapping an unsteady rhythm into the wood, and all he could think about was who he would be willing to kill to feel that hand pressed against his cheek.

He considered asking her, for a moment, giving her an order and hoping she would absent-mindedly obey. He is, after all, ultimately her boss, is he not? He thought about touching her, or running his fingers through her hair, or pulling her into his lap and mumbling sweet nothings into her ear until someone else dragged her away.

He thought about a lot of things.

In any case, he actually said, “I take it your silence comes at a price?”

She shoots him a teasing smile. “Do I seem that selfish to you?”

Jamie is selfish. She had to be selfish. If she was not, then, surely, she would have been kind enough to put him out of his misery months ago.

“I like helping people. Just remember this when I need a favour from you.” She laughs, a heavenly sound that sings to his ear like the violin she plays when a contractor bails on them. “Such as when Xavier brings you a thank-you cake.”

“Ah, that’s going to take a while. They’re swamped with work and need no referrals from us.” He went on. “I’m sure we could work something more immediate out between ourselves.”

The young woman is already starting towards the door, calling the conversation to a close before Baxter could begin to finish. In the back of his mind, something flared, the urge to catch her wrist, to go after her, to put himself between her and the only exit and refuse to move until she looked at him. However, he forced it down, swallowing the temptation before it could eclipse his common sense.

He could not be impulsive. He could not make rash decisions. He is not prepared to deal with how difficult that would make things, not now. Not yet.

“Join me for a drink?” He tried, again, attempting to sound unbothered. Nonchalant, casual, normal. Like he was not itching to burn every book she had ever touched. “I know that you don’t have anything better to…”

“Another night, Mr. Ward.”

And just like that, she is gone, leaving his muttered response to echo through his empty office.

“Of course.”

*_*_*_*_*

Distracted, Desperate, Determined Masterlist

Our Life Masterlist

[paperboy-pb]

Okay, so there isn't good art available of *everybody* yet, but I think you should all have a little somethin'-somethin' about Matthew's class. So... there's 12 kids you need to know!

1: MATTHEW I. BOSTON -- Our protagonist! Physically disabled, even though you can't see it. Often thought of as weak. He is artsy, imaginative, sensitive, and holds a great love for life itself. Wants to leave Special Ed in pursuit of a better life, due to the abuse that many of its staff dish out.

2: ANDREA Z. BELTRAN -- Matthew's best friend! Has Dyslexia & Conduct Disorder. Seen as a "lost cause" by most. She's a bit explosive, but there's more to her than that. Andrea is old-fashioned, cynical, surprisingly caring & MUCH smarter than she's given credit for. Tends to bully their bullies.

3: MATEO-RUDOLFO ("RUDY") N. DELACRUZ -- HoH (Hard-of-Hearing) boy who's known for selling all sorts of knickknacks-- snacks, fidget toys, etc.-- to his peers. Tends to hide his hearing aids under his long hair. Allegedly crushing on Aza. Doesn't talk much, not even with ASL. But his close friends know him to be serious, organized, a little uptight, & very stubborn... with a few silly or mischievous moments here and there. >:)

4: OLIVER K. HANES -- "Frenemies" with Matthew. Dysgraphic, Dyspraxic, + some other probably-undiagnosed neurodivergence. Is ALL about tech + social media-- even filming his own vlogs, skits & pranks! Oliver is very conceited, boastful, self-centered, impulsive, and a spoiled rich boy... but not at all shallow. Will always put others first when it matters the most. Close with Jack.

5: KARL HO -- One of Rudy's friends! Has Down Syndrome + Intellectual Disability. Is often babied & lowkey excluded by others... despite being (secretly) VERY perceptive. Known to be sociable, silly, messy, & chill. Absolute gamer. Loves cartoons. Always ready to talk about girls. Sometimes makes bad choices in the name of being included, like laughing along when other kids bully Matthew.

6: AZA A. KANAAN -- Disliked by Matthew, dislikes him right back. Loved by literally everyone else. Levi's "Right-Hand Man." Aza is an ADHDer, leaning way on the hyperactive side of things. Aza is rowdy, random, & LOVES immature, vulgar shock humor. Plus anything clowncore or neon. But somehow, those closest to her claim she's also the mom friend, very loyal, open-minded, and down-to-Earth. Matthew won't believe it till he sees it.

7: JACKSON ("JACK") J. MARINE -- Matthew's #1 bully since forever! Jack speaks with a very prominent stutter, which made him a bullying target. Started various sports outside of school, as well as Karate. Thus, Jack is now tough, mean, & the strongest of the boys. Uses that status to hold himself above others. Will ALWAYS take an oppurtunity to torment Matthew for some laughs. Still only has 1 real friend. (Oliver.)

8: AMELIA MILLER -- Matthew's 2nd favorite girl! Was born with one arm. Doesn't know if she's been diagnosed with anything else. Amelia is very bubbly & soft-hearted. She loves llamas, hanging out with friends, sweets, coffee, cute boys, and pretty much anything girly. More sheltered than other kids. Doesn't have much of a backbone. Seems to fear abandonment. Usually seen with Levi & Aza.

9: WILBUR B. MORA -- Matthew's now-distant family friend. Only has one working eye, which is slowly but surely losing vision anyway due to Retinitis Pigmentosa. Wilbur is a calm, collected & peaceful math / science nerd. He especially loves animals, and can & WILL remind the teacher about the homework. Introverted, but not shy. Feels VERY held-back by Special Ed academically & tends to overwork himself at other programs, trying to fill the void.

10: AARAN PATEL -- Rudy & Karl's 3rd friend! Aaran has Tourette's, which makes him a bullying target. Not only that, Aaran's also a little awkward & VERY spiritual. He's super into Tarot cards, zodiac signs, fortune-telling, third eyes, religions, etc. And all of those factors tend to weird people out. So most don't talk to him. And they're missing out; because he's excitable, easily-impressed, and always has PLENTY to say! He also has a bit of a random fascination with superheroes & the idea of magic. Never a dull moment with this one.

11: LEVI T. TRAINOR-FANG -- Matthew's #2 bully! Claims to be his best friend despite hating him. Levi never discloses what she has, but she has implied that it's an emotion thing. Levi is an edgy, dark-minded, and cut-throat Queen-bee. Like Regina George mixed with a scene kid. Starts drama for fun & feels little remorse. While she & Jack both have the most fun tormenting Matthew as they find him to be weak & a crybaby, Levi will go after almost anyone. Her other victims include Andrea, Rudy, Amelia, Aaran, Linus, and even Jack himself. Almost everyone is terrified of her. Seems to respect Aza.

12: LINUS S. TRAINOR-FANG -- Levi's twin brother & the most disliked kid in the room! He has ADHD (Inattentive type this time!) along with Epilepsy. Linus is a gloomy yet chatty emo boy who loves writing, music, dance, & spiders. Unfortunately, he's also pretentious + overbearingly desperate to be cool. Instead of being himself or seeing others as people, he makes every trend his personality, puts people on pedestals they don't want, & refuses to talk to other "unpopular" kids like Matthew or Andrea in public. Only to be called cringe by the cool kids anyway! It's a vicious cycle that he refuses to break... and Matthew is lowkey kind of concerned.

Phew, that's a lot! It... gets easier to keep track once you see their designs, I promise, lol.

[discontentramblings]

happy 10th anniversary of all or nothing! 🎉🎉🎉 also congrats on sharing an anniversary with llamas with hats!

may i just say, i think about your post all the time bc after watching sarah z’s video about it i realized it’s basically the play “the odd couple” and have since then been wanting to write a play as a spoof/parody of the odd couple that explores asexuality and pansexuality and their relationship to the queer community, and all the messiness and nuance that comes with it.

anyway, as a fellow ace who still wishes for more and varied representation, cheers! 🍾🥂🍰 the cake looks tasty!

a very significant anniversary to share indeed

best of luck with writing your play, and feel free to take a slice of cake on your way out 🎂