#me gesturing inarticulately

[staronastaff]

Supergiant's Hades II Goddess Superiority

[marmotsomsierost]

when patients are upset or nervous about their blood being drawn, sometimes i'll say "oh, don't worry, our vampires are extremely good at what they do." generally it works to relieve some tension or at least as a pause in the anxious build-up because it's absurd enough that the brain goes 'panic time? pani- wait what. that isn't in the script. hang on, hang on, stall the panic engines for a sec we need the power to run the logic centers again'. yesterday i said that many times. worked pretty great each time.

however.

towards the end of my shift, patient comes in with two family members. i get them checked in, during which this happens...

me: "What brings you in today?"

patient, brightly: "I need blood!"

me: "Oh, are you feeling a little hungry? We can..."

me, slowly processing those words: "...help........with....that."

patient: "My doctor yelled at me to come in because my blood is apparently lethally low, so-"

patient's family member A: "Did you just ask if she was hungry?"

me, slowly dying inside: "yeah, i- sometimes when people get their labs drawn i'll tell them don't worry, our vampires do excellent work, so i just"

(during this I am putting on their ID wristband and also apparently making inarticulate gestures trying to explain the whole mess)

me: "i am sorry, that was not a professional way of greeting you. please have a seat, the nurse will call you in a bit to finish-"

pt family member B: "do you guys have a cafeteria? Is it still open?"

me: "no, it isn't-"

pt family member B: "or i guess you'd call it a blood bank, right?"

me: "i...we...do have a cafeteria. it's not a cafeteria right now. i mean it is a cafeteria but the kitchen- there's just vending machines. and microwaves. it's down the hall and the second hallway on the right side."

pt family member B: "is there ice cream?"

me: "mayb- no I think there is, actually."

me, internally: you have 38 fucking minutes left of your shift fucking reengage brain and deal with it

while i am checking in the rest of the evening rush i hear the patient greet family member C. family member B comes back at about the same time, gesturing triumphantly with a frozen snickers bar. faintly i hear family member B saying something like "none for you, sorry, no type-B popsicles." family member A and patient start laughing, family member C is clearly taken aback.

family member A: " oh yeah (patient)'s real hungry for bluuuurd, that's why we're here."

patient: "I went up and said i needed blood and she asked if i was hungry, you know, like a vampire."

family member B: "it was great!"

[musouie]

grinding against old man toji’s knee while he’s playing a word puzzle…

he has one hand on your waist, the other holding a pen, and your arms circle around his neck as you lazily drag your cunt along his muscled thigh. a trail of slick left in your wake.

at first glance, he appears uninterested. eyes lidded and focused on the crossword before him, breaths escaping his nose in long, measured huffs. but he’s been on the same square for a while now, and when you look down, you see his cock tenting in his joggers, begging to be let out. the poor thing :(

“i’m tryna think,” he groans, a hiss following shortly after. “and i can’t do that with ya’ grindin’ on me like this.”

but his body betrays him. his meaty thigh tenses beneath you, lifts ever-so-slightly to offer better friction, the movement making you whimper in turn.

“it’s not going anywhere. just a few minutes,” you whine, lips pressing into his jaw. they wander along its ruggedness before planting themselves over a particularly inviting patch of skin, where his adam’s apple bobs temptingly as he swallows.

“hnnm.”

he attempts a huff, as if in an attempt to stay stern, but the gesture peters off into a gritted whimper when you close your teeth around his jugular, worrying his flesh. a curse leaves him, a hiss in the crook of his throat, and his grip on his pen tightens, white-knuckled and rigid, threatening to break.

“yer a selfish girl, aint’cha?” toji rasps, voice nothing short of gravel. “won’t even gimme a moment to myself, won’t listen. makin’ my dick hard and leavin’ the task half-finished.”

you don’t deny the sentiment; can only manage a pleased hum when he curls one arm around you and presses you even closer to him. sighing when he places his pen down and his other hand joins.

“then we’re gunna do this on my terms,” his fingers dig into your flesh — squeeze. “ain’t that fair?”

and with a small smirk tugging at his lips, his fingers dig into the pliant flesh of your hip, urging you to move. he directs your motions himself: the grinds, the presses, the gyrates until you catch the rhythm, the one he prefers.

it leaves you sore. clit rolling roughly against his hardened thigh, your flesh chafed, your moans trapped in your throat. but the pain feels too good. his hands too coarse, fingers too firm, touch too bruising, breaths too hot against your nape to voice a thing.

so, you acquiesce.

allow your head to loll forwards and rest in the junction between his neck and shoulders while he nuzzles and bites at your own delicate skin between the two. his fingertips creep under your panties, knuckles gliding through your sopping cunt before toying with your clitoris, teasing and flicking until you almost fall off his lap with the force of a shudder.

it all becomes too much, then — the roughness, the fervour, the bites, his clothed length rubbing against your front. all that you can do is fist his shirt and keen.

you come, harsh and brutal, stars bursting behind the darkness of your lids, toes curling so hard you’re surprised your ankles don’t snap. your arms tighten, becoming a vice around toji, and you bite his skin in an attempt to not scream as his fingers relentlessly attack your bundle of nerves.

eventually, your wails, full-throated and inarticulate, dissipate and fade. toji remains the constant — still rubbing, still tracing his mouth across any expanse of skin he can get, and when he realises that you can’t possibly endure anymore, he captures your lips instead, nipping and tugging at them with a smirk.

“look at the mess ya’ made of my pants, filthy girl. now ya gunna help me clean it up.”

masterlist <3

[papercranesong]

Confessions of a Fanfic Writer: How and why I use AI 

So more and more, I’m seeing posts about AI and the place it has in writing. While some posts express justified concerns, the general discourse seems to be degenerating into “don’t use AI” and “if you use AI you’re a horrible person”, which suppresses conversation and doesn’t really explore the nuances of how AI can be used as a tool for writers.

I’m a fanfic writer who uses AI to help me write, especially when I’m in the throes of exhaustion or depression. I don’t always use it, and when I do, I’m aware it can become a crutch. But mostly it’s transformed my writing life, because it means I can write nearly every day now, instead of waiting for those rare moments each month when the sun comes up and I’m in a good place mentally and I’m able to write. 

So I thought I’d get specific and share some ways I use it. A couple of practical points first - 

AI is a broad term, and so when I talk about AI with regard to writing, I’m referring to a subcategory of AI called LLMs - large language models like chatGPT.

I don’t allow chatGPT to train on my fics. (There’s an option to not let it train its models on any data inputted). 

Ways I use AI to help me write 

One - to help me articulate my ideas

You know when you’re so tired and unable to express yourself properly, and you end up spewing a word cloud and gesturing inarticulately in the vague hope that the other person will understand what you’re trying to say? 

So with chatGPT I type that wordcloud in along with my half-baked ideas and unfinished sentences, and then it will make sense of what I’m trying to say and reflect back to me fully-formed ideas, giving me different suggestions for what I might mean. It’s the “make it exist first, you can make it good later” adage - chatGPT helps me to make my ideas exist first. 

Two -  for constructive criticism 

I might feel like a scene is sagging or that something’s not working but I’m unable to put my finger on it. So I’ll ask - “what’s not working?” and I’ve found it to be remarkably perceptive and accurate in identifying what and why something feels off - maybe it’s the beats and pacing, list-like repetition or lack of a character’s internal reaction.

(Could I just ask a beta-reader to do this? I could, but honestly - I’m an introvert and British. It’s just too awkward for me).

Three - as a sounding board 

If I’m stuck on a scene, it offers a fresh perspective by helping me figure out the motivations of the characters or identifying the emotional counterpoint of the scene and suggesting ways to build on it.

I sometimes ask it to rewrite the scene from the perspective of a different character, or to write the scene from a sensory point of view, just to help me experience it through fresh eyes. Other writers use it to make RPGs of their fics, for similar reasons. There’s also an audio option where it narrates what you’ve written -  the voice isn’t great but just hearing the words spoken aloud allows me to listen and visualise it and gives me a fresh perspective. 

Four - as a research tool 

I like doing research and making my fics as accurate as possible, but sometimes there’s no information available for my scenarios, e.g a character bleeding out in zero-G. So I type in the scenario into ChatGPT and receive information specific to my scene - for example, if my character is bleeding out in zero-G, is that even possible? How would it appear to an onlooker? Would the bleeding happen quicker or slower than in normal gravity? Would it still feel the same? (There’s always potential for the LLM to hallucinate though, so I wouldn’t trust it as the sole authority).

Five - for proof-reading and html code 

I can spend hours checking for typos, grammar and formatting errors, and it’s a lot quicker to ask chatGPT to clean it up for me initially and then to check it myself afterwards (or the other way round). It also speeds things up with writing html code for specific formatting. 

Six - as a writing therapist 

I have pretty low self-esteem and imposter syndrome etc. In the past I would either stop writing for a while - or worse, just delete my stories. 

Now when I feel like that, I tell ChatGPT and  then it responds by having a conversation based on therapeutic techniques such as externalisation (separating harmful thoughts from your identity), reframing techniques based on CBT etc. to explore with me what I’m feeling and to help me think differently about it. 

(Could I not just turn to actual humans for this? Yes, and occasionally I do. But I don’t want to pester my online fanfic friends with my writerly angst multiple times a day. It’s not fair on them, and they’re not counsellors. But with chatGPT I can be as honest and neurotic as I like). 

Conclusion

I guess I wanted to write this little essay because: 

it felt disingenuous not to speak up about my own use of AI when people were posting about it on Tumblr and elsewhere.

to maybe challenge the assumption that the use of AI in writing is automatically deviant, shameful or wrong. 

to hopefully be an approachable  person to chat to about the use of AI in fanfic. I’d love to find a friendly space in which to talk about how to use AI well in creating fanworks, and to discuss the angst, pitfalls and ethics that come with it. (Edit: I made a Tumblr community called Writing-with-AI, let me know if you’d like the link).

Anyway, if you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading and for keeping an open mind. I’m always happy to chat more - feel free to DM or leave me an ask.

Finally, you might be wondering whether I used AI to write this. What do you think?

[snugglesquiggle]

Juzi >:3

J narrowed her eyes, eyeing the two disassembly drones in the pod. N and V leaned against the wall, white sheets of A2 paper in their hands. V rolled her eyes, but N raised a finger, as if requesting permission to ask a question. What a waste of time — just ask.

“Hey captain, what’s this?”

“It’s your schedule for the next week. Memorize it, or keep it safe. I won’t be printing out another.”

“What’s the point of this?” V asked. J jerked her gaze to her other squadmate with a frown and a click of her tongue. As if I gave her permission to ask a question. “Fly around, kill whatever, drag em back. ’s worked just fine so far.”

“I selected our patrol routes so that—” J’s lecture was interrupted by a paper airplane sniping point-first into her temple. A pixel-vein popped above one eye, and her gaze snapped to the last drone in the pod.

Uzi sat in the pilot’s chair, legs kicked up on the console. She held a Nintendo Game Boy Advance® in front of her, buttons clicking — hands busy, as if she were innocent of the crime, but there was only one drone without a printed schedule.

She smirked, and J glared back.

“We’re robots,” Uzi said. “Just save it to a file and airdrop it. Thought you of all drones would be happy to use a spreadsheet.”

“We did use an shared database, until someone went in and gave themselves an entire month of time off, corrupting my access credentials in the process.”

V shot a dirty look at Uzi. “And you didn’t share it with anyone? Stingy little dork.”

“Hey, I earned it!” Uzi dropped her Game Boy®, crossing her arms. “Testing security is job too, you know!”

“Nice work, Uzi! Preventing hacks with hacking, I like it.”

N made a finger guns gesture, and Uzi smiled back.

J scowled deep enough you could hear it. “Enough,” she said. “N, V, get out. I need to talk with Uzi in private. We’ll conclude this meeting later.”

N gave a salute, while V glanced between J and Uzi and snorted. She left first, and N tailed after her.

J stalked forward, the stabs of her stiletto pegs resounding in the now-vacated pod. Uzi didn’t flinch at her approach. No, that smirk turned into a grin, even as the reflection of yellow eyes raced up her visor.

The murder drone loomed over the worker, and the worker lifted a hand and tapped J between the eyes where visor met synthskin.

“Boop.”

J grabbed the hand by the wrist and squeezed. The metal protested, and plastic bent.

“Uzi.” That voiced sibilant in her name was made both a hiss and a growl.

“Hey, J.”

Amber eyes stared, narrow and getting narrower.

The goth sighed. She amended, “Hey, captain.”

“That’s right. Captain. I’m in charge here. Do you think you’re doing this team any favors when you undermine my authority?”

“Yes.”

Eyes wide now, an eyebrow quirked. “Excuse me?”

“What, did you think having a stick up your butt all the time was helping more? I think things are going smoother now that everyone knows you even aren’t all strict business all the time.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” J’s tail rose now, tip pointing straight up.

“Come on, J. You suck at hiding it. You can’t even glare at me without blushing.”

J’s tail swished back and forth until she caught it, and carefully lowered it. “A small detail. A coincidence. Hardly a leak of confidential information.”

“And you don’t think anyone wonders why you let me get away with anything?”

“You do not get away with anything.” Behind her, J’s tail lashed.

“Yeah, I guess I have the bite marks to prove it. Think if I pull down my jacket it’ll clear that up for them?”

“Don’t you dare.”

“But how can you maintain your authority if the team doesn’t know what your punishment looks like? C’mon J, be consistent.”

“Uzi, I swear, if you don’t—” J’s words were low growls, lower and lower until it was just inarticulate sputtering. “Gah!”

A predator snarling and flashing teeth over her, and Uzi pressed her face closer. She could feel J’s hot breath on her face plate, and when she spoke, their exhausts fought for the air between them.

“Hey, J, it’s okay. You don’t have to use your words. I know it’s hard to think when I make you go off script.” Uzi reached up with her one free hand now, touching J’s cheek. “Honestly, probably my favorite exploit I’ve found. Just push the right buttons, and—”

Still growling, hissing. “Uzi. This was supposed to be a meeting. Keep it professional.” It was J who pulled back, standing up straight, looking down at the goth.

“A private meeting. I’m sure you had the most managerial intentions when you glared N away from me. Wanted to this meeting all to yourself.”

“Are you insinuating I’m… jealous?”

“I dunno.” Uzi glanced down at the floor, where her paper airplane had landed. “Why don’t you unfold my schedule and tell my how many of my assignments you’re supervising.”

J turned up her (lack of a) nose. She raised the pitch of her voice — no more undignified growling, instead composed and airy-toned. “But of course. You have a terrible work ethic and an appaling lack of experience. You—”

“So you’re taking a hands-on approach?” Uzi wiggled the arm still held in J’s death-grip.

Still high-pitched, if strained. “Only as is appropriate—”

“Kinda raising the same question you’re answering. Why’s your first thought about whether it’s ‘appropriate’?”

J released Uzi’s arm. “Because I would never—”

“C’mon. Just tell me what improper thoughts popped in your head.”

J screamed. Between the constant interruptions and allegations, her visor was a mess of bright blush ticks and throbbing digital veins. She was back to growl-sputtering. “If you don’t shut up, I’ll…”

“What? Kill me over a little teasing?” Uzi let the smirk drop. “Okay, J. If you want me to stop… just ask sincerely.”

J froze. A loading icon. Then she huffed, crossed her arms, and turned away. “I don’t need to ask you to stop. It’s just a little teasing. Really, that’s all you are. Little. Insignificant. Miniscu—”

That was when Uzi launched herself out of the pilot’s chair. The sudden motion drew J’s gaze back to the worker, and she didn’t flinch at irked-tensed, clenched-fist purple threat in front of her.

“Bite me! I’d rather be short, if the alternative is impractical stripper pole legs!”

“Remind me, how many missions have you completed?” J laughed, eyes tracking Uzi from the bottom of her visor.

“Quit looking down on me!”

“Maintaining eye contact is essential for—”

Uzi huffed. “Then how about this?” As she spoke, she was already acting, or otherwise J would have had time to react. Uzi jumped, arms and legs thrown forward, pouncing.

She held on by J’s shoulder, and wrapped her legs around her hips, shimmying higher as the murder drone yelped. Thrown off-balance, J’s arms were flailing before she even tried pulling the worker off her. And now Uzi was climbing higher, holding secure.

The momentum from Uzi’s pounce sent J backwards, and her stripper legs stilletto-heels struggled to find purchase on the pod’s metal floor. The stumble-fall didn’t end until J’s back was too the wall, pinned by Uzi.

A grin beneath purple eyes narrowed devious — held high, looking down.

“I,” J started, voice breathy. “We’ve gotten v-very off-track.”

“This meeting could’ve been a date,” Uzi drawled.

J still panted, cycling exhaust. It took a moment before she could speak was steady again. “I can arrange a sight-seeing trip downtown, tonight. Is that what it takes for you to accept the new schedules?”

“It’d be an improvement.”

“What else do you require?”

“Hm… how about a kiss?”

J stared at her — but she wasn’t blushing or breathing hot because she didn’t want to. A deep intake, then J parter her lips and leaned forward—

And Uzi leaned back, making J miss. Vein pop. Hiss. J leaned further, far as her neck would allow, and Uzi teased her like a dog on a leash. The goth brought her face back, and J darted after it, only for Uzi to keep dodging, laughing softly.

Then J reached up grabbed the goth with a fistful of hair, and shoved her face toward her scowling maw. Lips meet lips with almost palpable electric shock.

J’s tongue slipped forward into Uzi, inflicting this annoyance in retribution for playing hard to get, and Uzi bit back again J’s invasion, holding it there between her teeth, slowly increasing the pressure.

But J still had a fistful of hair, and now she pulled, until Uzi’s bite released itself to make way for a moan.

The seal of their lips didn’t break, and that touch persisted as Uzi melted into J’s embrace, teasing resistance falling away bit by bit.

Then it was interrupted by an abrupt tug on purple hair. Uzi was pulled out of her tongues-twined, arms-enwrapped sense-bath into cold, separate air.

The first sound she made wasn’t a word, but a whine. Then, “C’mon, J. Why’d you stop?”

“Mmm. Will you behave yourself around my team, now?”

Closed eyes opened to meet eye with J. The worker says, “No. Never. ’s too much fun.”

J’s lashing tail smacked against the pod wall. “Why do I even keep you around?”

Uzi smiled, and brought a hand up to caress her murder drone’s cheek. “Because. It’s something you can’t put into words or schedules. It’s just:”

And they kissed again.

[halfbaked00q]

“Just because —” Bond stumbled, unsure how to complete that sentence. Just because I manipulate people on instinct? Just because I’m a whore for my country? He settled on an inarticulate frustrated gesture of his hand, plowing forward regardless. “It doesn’t mean that — that I’m not sincere. That I don’t really mean it when I say that I want to try, with you. You know every damned thing about me, Q. How can you not know that by now?”

- Bittersweet by dr_girlfriend

I loooooove to torment myself by thinking about how little Bond thinks of himself, how ready he is to throw himself in the line of fire for Q&C... and fics like this deliver on it time and time again <3

[ducktracy]

what's your favorite part of daffy and/or porky to draw? this could be an expression, gesture, body part, anything that when you get to That Part it just tickles your brain

HI ADA!! OH WOW this is such a good question... i suppose "everything" isn't an answer is it HEH

THIS IS ACTUALLY TOUGH because it depends!! i'm way way way too particular and protective with them, and so usually i get a bit "over serious" and overthink when i'm drawing them because i wanna do them justice, and sometimes (often, really) it stiffens me up and prevents me from reaching the full potential i know i can hit with these guys. there are a lot of little details i could add and do to make these guys more expressive that i tend to shy away from not doing, and i need to brave up and get over my "you won't die if you do something differently from the shorts" disease... but i like how they both have potential to be played with for more expressiveness. i need to play around with Porky's ears more in relation to his emotions (like erect when happy or alarmed, flattened when annoyed, etc). sometimes i do this with his tail, which i do love doing, but i could stand to embrace more of that.. ditto with Daffy and his tail feathers and hair

this applies to both of them, but my favorite part of drawing them is when i can feel like i've just.. gotten THEM. there's a mantra i've learned on the Sponge that's very true and i hold dear to my heart: "is this a drawing of the character or a drawing of the character?" i'm always trying to go for the latter and make it really feel like i'm capturing them, the actual character, on my page instead of an approximation. i feel like i'm often on that quest more for Porky than i am Daffy... i tend to adopt the attitudes of the characters as i draw them, i try to think like them and how they present themselves, and so since Porky is such a comparatively reserved character next to Daffy, my drawings of him are a bit more tepid but good-natured. i feel best about my Porky drawings when i'm able to effectively capture his sort of slightly restrained but genuine warmth. it's not nearly as simple as just drawing him smiling... i feel like all of these examples below have a certain authenticity to them. these are drawings where i really feel like i've drawn Porky instead of i've drawn Porky (though his head construction in the first one doesn't really adhere to the perspective as well as i thought.. and it's the most recent one!).

IT'S KINDA HARD TO EXPLAIN, it's just something i feel. but it's more about drawing a stock smile, but it's getting that warmth in there as well as that bit of shyness and tepidness, as well as the oxymoronic self assurance.. just kinda getting a bunch of different elements and facets of his personality in one. and it doesn't always HAVE to be him smiling, either--i like this doodle i did in my storyboard margins recently for similar reasons, even for as quick and thoughtless as it is. i can feel his rigidity and sense of justice and inarticulate... i feel Porky. even though this is not a "correct" drawing by any means (the bow-tie doesn't at all follow the centerline!)

AND. SPEAKING OF. I THINK I JUST FOUND ANOTHER ANSWER. Porky has turned me into a nut for bowties. i love drawing them so so so much. there are so many ways to draw them, but seeing how Rod Scribner draws his bowtie in Baby Bottleneck and how voluminous it is and big and frilly and stupid and obtuse it is and just AUGH. i love drawing bow-ties. so much. it's sickening. and i love giving him bowties on outfits that absolutely should not have bowties, as it is a tradition he himself upholds (god bless Art Davis for giving him a bowtie with a BATH ROBE in The Pest That Came to Dinner).

AS FOR DAFFY. a lot of the same philosophies apply, i'm always in search of The Perfect Duck. so much so that i don't really know if i've ever drawn him yet... like i said, i tend to adapt to the attitudes of the characters i'm drawing, and Daffy gives me a much harder time. he's more anarchic and slips out of my fingers and there's always that dissatisfaction of "agh, i couldn't capture him, next time." a playful fickleness that's more enjoyable on his end than mine! though i do like this quick duck doodle not dissimilar to the earlier Porky one, it's rough and nondescript but i think it captures his essence well. there's a playfulness and coyness to it, and a greater sense of energy and momentum. you can feel him being on his good behavior to pose for the camera for .2 seconds before immediately reverting back to his anarchic ways

but with Daffy, i think i moreso enjoy.... gosh i guess it depends? i need to experiment with this more admittedly, but when i was first learning to draw him especially i was so obsessed with his damn tongue. i love how Rod Scribner draws his tongue like it's a separate entity just bursting out of his mouth, it's a personification of the feeling of your brain and mouth both outcompeting each other from sheer excitement and energy and mania and that is a CONSTANT for me. any Daffy drawing i drew from 2019-early 2020 or so has his tongue out or him spitting and being disgusting. my icon is the way it is because it started off as a drawing from 2019 during the peak of this phase!

i need to take more risks with that, i think i need to be a bit more okay with my ducks looking a bit ugly.. spontaneity and authenticity is my priority with him.

i also like/need to play around with his hair more... people have rightfully pointed out that i love drawing Daffy with his hairs poking out if he's wearing a hat and it's TRUE I LIVE FOR IT. this again was spurred on by Rod Scribner doing the same in Baby Bottleneck. he just looks so bald otherwise and it feels so wrong... and it likewise makes it feel like the hat is interacting with him more and just gives the whole piece a nice tangibility to it. and, to quote my past self, "i want to tussle his hair before kicking him into traffic". i like when the animators play with his hair and i absolutely need to do the same.

looks like it goes all the way back to 2019... my first icon in the image above is the last time i seemingly ever drew him "bald" in a hat

I THINK FOR BOTH THOUGH the biggest answer is Getting Into Them. my director always says i'm very good at "getting into the psychology of the characters", and that's something i do pride myself in since, if my drawing skills fail me (as they often do, i'm soooo picky with these guys), i at least know them well enough and intimately enough to let the intent and personality guide where sometimes my skills cannot. like with that Baby Bottleneck Porky drawing way above (the first one), i don't love the actual draftsmanship itself--Porky's perspective is wrong and his construction too flat and smushed. i'm much less proud of it than i once was. but i think the psychological intent of it as also detailed above is what saves it for me. i at least have the safety net of knowing i understand these characters, and whatever i draw will follow that

thank you for such an interesting question! i feel like i rambled more about philosophy than giving an actual concrete answer, but there are MANY factors at play here... and the things i enjoy drawing most about these guys, i need to give my permission to play with more HAHA. i get too swept up in the accuracy sometimes/honoring the "character, not a drawing" rule

[aces-to-apples]

It's a real pain to be uncritical, unanalytical, and inarticulate and still notice something that I want to be the opposite of all of those things about. Alas, I'm reduced to gesturing unintelligibly at all the times Lucanis says "Don't encourage him" about Spite and then pointing at Lucanis during Sea of Blood saying "Don't encourage him" about Illario and yelling "POINT OF ORIGIN! POINT OF! ORIGIN!" like an idiot. Someone help me.

[captain-athos]

Werewolf Ray part 4

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

At first, Vincent thinks there's something wrong with him. That what he's seeing is the pained writhing of a badly wounded animal, or one that is sick, having an attack of some sort, or convulsions. He has half a mind to run for help, but then the wolf's whimpers shift into something more like a cry.

Something human.

Vincent watches, frozen in horror as the wolf arches in pain and patches of fur begin to slough from its skin, leaving behind the pale ridges of a spine. There is a loud snapping sound as the wolf's paws stretch out, shaking with tension until they visibly break, claws scrambling for a hold on something until they become fingernails, filthy with dirt, at the end of long, pale limbs.

It's agony to bear witness to but Vincent does it anyway, watching the wolf be torn apart, only to be put back together as a human. A familiar one.

"Ray?" whispers Vincent.

He doesn't know him very well - not for lack of trying. Ray is oddly shy around unfamiliar people, and tends to keep out of the way as much as possible, but Vincent knows that his gentle hand is in every surprising convenience that he encounters in his day. There's very little Ray doesn't think of in advance. He's a kind and loyal assistant to Thomas.

And he's currently curled up at the back of a storage closet, naked and trembling. He brings his hands up over his head, tucking himself away much like a frightened pup. Vincent can hear him softly gasping.

"That looked very painful," he says, moving to crouch beside him.

He has questions. They can wait. For now, it's clear Ray is in need of help.

In response, Ray lets out an inarticulate whine of distress that doesn't yet sound entirely human.

"Please-" he manages to choke out, his voice ragged and hoarse, "I'm sorry, I just - d-don't let them see me-"

"Of course," says Vincent gently, "of course, you wait here. I will send everyone looking for you elsewhere."

He reaches out and runs a hand over the back of Ray's head, the memory of the wolf still fresh enough in his mind that it guides his movements. To his delight Ray sighs, soothed by the touch.

It's a short while later, with the guards sent elsewhere, that he returns to the storage cupboard with a black cassock in his arms. The significance of the gesture does not escape him, as it was Ray who found him a place to stay, and clothes to wear when he first arrived here at the Vatican. He is glad for the opportunity to return the kindness.

Ray is a little less shaken when he returns. He still looks terrified, and worryingly pale. He's unsteady as he tries to rise to his feet, moving with the sluggish motions of the exhausted. Vincent helps him dress, and the poor man flushes red.

"Sorry about all that," he murmurs.

Vincent can't help but laugh.

Sorry about all that. Like he's apologising for a minor inconvenience.

"I will have questions," says Vincent, slipping a steadying hand around his waist.

Ray hangs his head. He fidgets. He blushes even more deeply.

"Would you take my confession instead?" he whispers.

Vincent knows what he means. He wants the protection of his secrecy.

"No," says Vincent, as gently as he can manage, "because as far as I can tell, there is no sin here. But I will swear to you your secret is safe with me. Is that enough of a reassurance?"

Ray's mouth twitches. It's something of a relief, the flicker of humour that flits past.

"I suppose it'll have to be."

[sulkybender]

the poem of you: a Zukka fic

tags: established relationship, hurt Sokka, hurt/comfort, Sokka has OCD, loving and protective Zuko, modern au

He finds Sokka curled on the floor next to the bed and his heart falls.

He always looks like he’s trying to make a shell with his body, a shell against the world he doesn’t have. 

Zuko gets down on his knees, touches his back. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, and Sokka starts to cry. Zuko covers him with his body, protection. The soft weight of Sokka crying underneath, the raggedness of his breath. 

“I’m here,” Zuko says, kissing the back of his neck, that vulnerable place, the short hairs delicate under his touch. “Baby, I’m right here.”

“It’s bad,” he weeps, inarticulate. 

“I know,” Zuko says. “I know. I love you.”

He curls around Sokka and tries, so hard, to protect him. 

—

Sometimes the thoughts are bad; they don’t relent. It’s like being kicked in the head, Sokka tells him, by the same thought over and over. 

Fuckup. 

Fuckup. 

Fuckup. 

He helps Sokka from the floor and tries to be gentle with him. Zuko spoons him in bed, pressing kisses to his hands. His whole body is stiff, delayed, fighting an infection from within. And the infection is Sokka, and the infection is killing Sokka. Or trying its best. 

“I love you so much,” Zuko says, arms slipping around his waist, snug. “You’re my baby, you know that? You’re my turtleduck.”

Sokka is cried out, hunched in on himself, hurting. The shakiness of his breath is painful. Zuko wants to take the pain away. It’s always seemed so unfair that he can’t. 

He would do anything for Sokka, but there’s nothing he can do. 

“You want me to tell you about my day?” he asks, and Sokka nods. 

Sokka is the talker—Zuko isn’t the talker—but Zuko can do this, can talk for him, fill the silences that Sokka’s mind would try to fill with unkind things. 

“Hmm, let’s see.” Zuko noses at his ear, nuzzling kisses. “It was a slow day. Did some client research. Ate a shitty croissant.”

He hums, thinking. 

“I wrote poems for a bit.” He can feel Sokka smile a little. “Yeah, I thought you’d like that,” Zuko says. 

He falls into silence again for a while, feeling the soft rise and fall of Sokka’s chest. He’s no good at this, the steady patter, the lull of it. He tries to think of other topics but all he can do is wonder how long Sokka was on the floor. 

“What kind of poems?” 

Sokka’s voice is hoarse. 

“Nothing special.” Zuko kisses the back of his neck. “I wrote them on sticky notes and then I hid them in my desk.” He can feel the little motion that means Sokka is laughing, suppressed. “Yeah, yeah. Go on and say it.”

“Nothing,” Sokka says. 

“It’s never nothing.”

“I just love you,” Sokka says, his voice cracking slightly, and Zuko feels warm all over. He could cry. 

“I love you so much it’s crazy,” he says. He cards his fingers through Sokka’s hair. He wants to take care of Sokka so badly. It’s this ache in him all the time. 

“Were the poems about me?” 

Zuko snorts. 

“I wanna know,” Sokka whines. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he says. 

“That’s why you love me.”

He rolls over onto his back, smiling up at Zuko. And the smile is hesitant, his eyes still bright from crying, but he looks so handsome Zuko doesn’t know what to do with himself. His hair spills on the pillow, rich brown flecked with gold. He cradles Sokka’s cheek, thumb stroking the line of his jaw. 

He wants to write about the way Sokka’s hair looks, the way his face looks, the particular tilt of it, the thoughtful way his lips purse. He wants to write about wanting to take care of Sokka. Inadequate: his care, his words for it. 

“I would write such shitty love poems about you,” he says. 

“I’d love that,” Sokka says. 

“I’m sure you would.” He kisses Sokka’s head. “Only the shittiest.”

Sokka gestures, a little beckoning movement, and Zuko lies back in his arms, warm, Sokka’s hand protective on his hip. He can feel the tremor in Sokka’s hand, the exhaustion. He’s exhausted himself with the thoughts in his head, been pummeled by them. He’s pummeled still. 

“You’ll read them to me sometime,” Sokka murmurs. 

“I will not.”

“Someday you’re gonna be a famous poet,” Sokka says. “And then I’ll have to see your poems. There’s no avoiding it.”

He’s tracing circles in Zuko’s hipbone, delicate enough to make Zuko shiver with love. He wants to make Sokka dinner; he wants to wash his hair. He wants to do everything, because he can’t do the one thing, the thing that matters. He wants to fall asleep holding Sokka safe from the world. 

“Can we go on a walk later?” Sokka asks, hesitant. “Just to, um.”

It helps when he’s tired, too tired to think circles around himself. Zuko nuzzles him. “Of course, baby. I’d love to walk with you.”

He feels Sokka slump a little in relief. 

“God, you’re fucking lovely, you know that?” he says. 

And Zuko doesn’t know that, because there’s an infection inside him too, the thing that makes him doubt himself. The thing that makes him write poems on sticky notes and hide them away. 

He takes Sokka’s hand, presses it to his cheek. He’ll write a poem someday about that—the feeling of Sokka’s hand on his cheek. 

But he doesn’t have the words for that now. His words are so much less beautiful than that, such ordinary things. 

“You can always ask me to walk with you,” he says. 

And Sokka smiles like it’s a poem anyway. 

[merge-conflict]

Goro cupped her cheek, thumb running over the edge of her tight smile before it faded. “In that alley…I thought if you asked me, then I would help. But, you did not ask.” His tone was light, almost wistful. “You smiled and then–“ He released her, gestured gently. “–turned away.” “I didn’t smile.” “You did.” His expression was soft, bittersweet. “It is a not a sight I will soon forget.” In truth the memory was hazy, volatile. There was the moment when she had first seen him, and it had been a little shock, something sharp and inarticulate. Maybe he was right.

the damn things overlap, 7 - some things you do for money

Commission by the incredibly skilled @nananarc

Also as an added bonus the original scene from Valentine's pov:

He fell back, head striking the pavement with a thump. She watched him, chest heaving, one hand on the knife still buried in her shoulder. Blood was roaring through her ears, but everything else was quiet. Cautiously, she crouched down next to his body, transfixed by the sight of him. The ripper had lost consciousness almost immediately, but this one had known what was going to happen.  <C’mon V, gotta keep moving.>   There was a wary note in Johnny’s voice. She resented his presence, but she despised his condescension more. The facile comments, the smug self-righteous air, as though he were a paragon of virtue merely for having promised her something he could not give. It was not enough that he was eating her alive, but he had to exert his control now, dig in his spurs over and over until she did what he wanted. But she did not want what he wanted. <He’s dead.> Exasperation, now. There were two parts of her working along in uneasy tandem, one which regarded him with a cold professional contempt, and the other which wished they could rip him apart into silence The remaining part of her wanted to sit there a while longer, to spite him, but the adrenaline was starting to wear off. She staggered to her feet, leaning heavily on her good leg, and then froze, catching movement at the far end of the alley. <Persistent guard dog, isn’t he?> Even in an untailored button down and cheap slacks Goro cut an imposing figure. It was something in the way he moved that made the animal part of her wary. Recognition of another predator. She felt herself relax as he approached, eyes drawn briefly to the corpse at her feet before his attention returned to her. He was dangerous but he was not her enemy. “V,” he greeted her, evenly. “I wished to talk, but I see that you are busy.” If he was still angry with her she could not find it in his face. He was calm, inscrutable. Possibly he thought she had gone insane. She found she did not want to talk.

the damn things overlap, 3 - washed in the blood

[babytarttdoodoo]

fresh concrete in my mouth

((Winner of Whumptober Poll #1 | Day 3 | “Make it stop.”)) 

The door opened and Roy ignored it. Either it was Beard, who knew better than to say something, or Nate, who wouldn’t know how to say something, or it was someone who wouldn’t think to look for him on the floor behind his desk.

“Coach?”

Roy groaned, louder than intended. Because of course it was Jamie Fucking Tartt.

Sure enough, a mop of blonde hair invaded Roy’s view of the ceiling tiles as Jamie bounded around the desk, still full of energy after a full day of training.

Prick.

Jamie’s brow scrunched up in confusion as he took in the sight of Roy sat against his own desk drawers, legs stretched out in front of him. “What you doing down there?”

“None of your fucking business,” Roy grit out, annoyed enough already without stupid questions making it worse. “What do you want?”

Jamie’s nose wrinkled, adding to the overall scrunchyness of his face. “I were just wondering what your dinner plans are. You alright?”

“Do I look alright?” Roy snapped, frustration hot in his chest, and immediately regretted it when Jamie’s expression blanked and he held up his hands.

“Okay, okay, don’t got to bite my head off,” he chided, edging around Roy like he was keeping his distance from a wild animal. It was almost funny, that he thought Roy had a hope in hell of being able to reach him if he lashed out right now.

Except for all the ways it wasn’t funny at all.

Roy sighed, guilt cloying his throat as much as the pain. “Right. I don’t have dinner plans but I’m going to be here a while.”

“Okay…” Jamie drew the word out, head bobbing from side to side. “Why?”

“Because my knee fucking hurts!” It burst out of him without permission: too loud, too angry. But once it was out, Roy didn’t want to take it back, the words flowing through a wrecked dam of pride. “It fucking hurts, and it always fucking hurts, but apparently I can’t even stand still at the side of a bloody pitch in shitty weather without it fucking..."

He snarled wordlessly, gesturing at the offending limb in an attempt to encapsulate the throbbing, sickening, familiar sensation of pain that had sent him to the floor in desperation.

“And if it isn’t fucked because of the shitty fucking rain, it’s swollen from the heat because it’s shitting summer and everything’s awful and I can’t do this.”

His voice had risen to a shout and the silence became another entity in the room as he panted from the effort and Jamie stared.

Roy dug the heels of his hands into his eyes until stars burst into the darkness behind his lids. He tried to breathe through the inarticulate rage and helplessness that threatened to drag him under.

"I just want it to fucking stop hurting," he admitted quietly, as much to himself as to Jamie. “It never bloody stops.”

He gentled the pressure of his hands but didn’t drop them, still hiding his face behind his fingers so he didn’t have to see whatever stupid expression Jamie had conjured up in the name of empathy.

Though, it was quiet for longer than he expected. Instead of speaking, Jamie moved around quietly and there was a nearby rustle of clothes before Roy felt him settle in against his side, pressed up next to him on the floor.

“I don’t think saying ‘sorry’ is going to help much,” Jamie finally voiced, subdued and so careful that Roy was obligated to give him proper attention. He turned to look at him, blinking the haze from his vision.

Jamie’s eyes were fixed across the room, his mouth downturned and brow furrowed. He was so expressive, all the time, and Roy still found him so incredibly difficult to read.

“Not sure anything I say can help much. I don’t know what you’re going through.” He shrugged a little, as though that simple admission didn’t strike through Roy with all the precision of a scalpel. “But we’re here for you, mate. You’ve got good people around you.” He nudged him with his elbow and slid his eyes across to meet Roy’s. “You’ve got me, coach. Whatever you need.”

Roy didn’t know what to do with his soft smile. With being gently given permission to feel the way he did.

And worse, whatever Jamie saw in his face prompted him to continue.

“You’re allowed to be human, Roy.”

“Fuck.” Roy choked on a sob that punched out of him, unbidden, and slammed a hand across his mouth.

His knee still ached. But the sensation of a warm arm around his shoulders was familiar too.

[genesiseven]

𝑭𝑺𝑴 ✩ 𝑩𝑹𝑼𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑺

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤᥕᥲrᥒ . Fem reader, ooc kaiser?, Fluff, part ii of INARTICULATE

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤsᥙm . With the match being cancelled due to the rainy weather, why not relax at ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthe balcony after waking up and drinking coffee in the morning with his ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤdarling?

ㅤㅤ��ㅤㅤᥴһᥲr . Micheal Kaiser

6:30 a.m

Buzz.. buzz.. buzz.. rang the digital clock

Waking up one sleepyhead, which is you, groaning and rubbing your eyes. Your hand reached to close the digital clock. You looked at the sleeping figure next to you, smiling fondly as your hand reached its new destination, his cheek. Your thumb rubbed it softly, your face reaching closer, til your lips connected to his slightly open ones, your lips took its own little nap for a few seconds, leaving after it felt satisfied.

Kaiser's eyes slowly opened, blinking a few times to adjust to the dim but too bright lighting. He groaned as you were in the middle of your stretching, the uncomfortable noises of your bones cracking must've woken him up, you thought. "Mm, did I wake you up, love? m sorry, you can sleep tight now, I need to take a shower." You said, getting out the bed. But a hand held your wrist in place, looking back "love let goo I need to take a shower and brush my teeeeth" "it's fine you smell amazing.." playfully huffing in response to his answer, "just come and.. cuddle with me." Your ears perked up, your mouth forming a mischievous and teasing smile "what's that?~ I didn't hear thatt~" "you smell like shit, go take a shower" his hand immediately let go, turning his back to you annoyed. You laughed at his childish yet cute gesture, engulfing him in your hug, wrapping your arms around him tightly as he tried to escape by wiggling out of your warm hug "go take a shower you bloody parasite" he softly yelled out "oh but I thought you said I smelled amazing" his eyebrows furrowed at your emphasis "just cuddle me, I'm cold." You did as told as he lazily made his requests clear. Your hand repeatedly patted his head, putting the tired kaiser to sleep.

You left the bedroom warmed with the love radiating off both of you, shivering as your feet touched the cold hard bathroom tiles. Every other room you stepped into felt cold, longing for your grumpy boyfriend's warm embrace. He woke up only 10 minutes after you did, getting sick of the absence of your presence. Sitting up, he gazed at the window, stained by the rain water. The rain had only calmed down in the morning, raining hard all night long, keeping the sleeping couple company with its calming sounds.

6:45 a.m

He left to bathe, turning on the tap and engaging in another activity til the water in the grand bathtub filled up.

Decorating it with beautiful blue and white rose petals, and sumerging his naked body into the warm emollient water. Sighing and letting his head rest on the near wall, his arms relaxing sitting on top of the bathtub. The bathroom door opened with a creek, opening his eyes, roaming around the room just to find his lover wrapped in a towel approaching him.

"What? Didn't bathe?" He said, scooting over to make room for you "Just thought of joining my oh-so-very-handsome man today"

"Get out"

Chuckling, you said "you're very grumpy in the mornings, ya know"

His chin now rested on your shoulder, arms hugging your waist and his brows furrowed. Unspeaking of your comment. Your hands found its way to his dry hair, playing with it. He hummed softly. The silence in the air was comforting, the couple back to embracing each other, the unwavering rain accompanying them as background music. It felt.. seraphic.

Kaiser was usually gone for most of the day, sometimes even months due to matches and such. And when he is at home, he chooses to relax, or do relaxing things. But you had him all to yourself today, seeing a new side to him yesterday, and today. He was soft, he was himself. He finally felt comfortable sharing all of him with his lover. It was a new chapter to your relationship. A new beginning even.

Shaking out of your trance as your boyfriend's placid humming came to an end "can I use your shampoo" he asked, eyes begging pathetically but face sly as ever. "Of course, only if I get to use yours" light light rose pink coloured his cheeks (he nodded in response), looking away. "Will my oh-so-very-kind wife wash my hair for her very tired husband?~" your eyes widened a bit at the use of his nicknames, now this was new, he had never called himself your husband, nor you his wife. A new tactic of teasing you? "Now that's new, when were we husband and wife" "since yesterday" he spoke, smiling, unphased. "Soo, what do we name our children" Now it was his time to blush "noel noa"

"how about ness"

"absolutely not, don't even think about it"

"Whyy, it's cute?" He gasped dramatically, pressing a hand against his chest

"Cute?! Cute??! Can't believe you find HIS name cuter than your own husband's!" Oh him and his stupid theatrics, but you loved his stupid theatrics.

"Okay okay don't get so butthurt, We will just name it noa" "Now your hurting my heart babyyy" he cried out "what~ , it was your suggestion" you spoke as if it was a question "but I was joking" "and before you say anything else, no, we are not naming our child michael jr" "stop your killing me with your words!" He pushed you away gently, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead, other hand on chest.

7:00 a.m

You sat on the vintage chair, accompanied by an empty chair and a vintage metal table, you stared out blankly, thinking of nothing, but calmly listening to the sounds of the calming rain and patiently waiting for your lover's return. Oh how much you love him, the first thought appeared. Smiling brightly to yourself. You were shaken out of your trance at the hearing of your lover's voice "what must you be smiling so bright about, schatz? Thinking about your handsome boyfriend?" He teased, entering the bedroom with warm cups of coffee on a tray. Playing the tray in the middle of the table, he placed one on your side, taking his, he blew on it gently. "Why are you so.. pretty?" You asked, now looking directly at his face in a dreamy trance. If he were to drink the hot coffee, he would've choked. Pretty, now it was his turn to say "well, that's a new one." He chuckled "God, thank you for giving my such a-" standing up, you cupped his cheeks and pulled him into a tight but passionate and gentle kiss and all the emperor could was sit in shock and simply lean into your kiss. With the breaking of your kiss, he completed your sentence for you, panting for air "blessing? singvogel, know that you are a special blessing for me, God's chosen emperor, as well."

You had now abandoned your seat, instead, making his lap your very own seat "we both are blessings for eachother." You whispered into his chest as his hand ran up and down your back slowly, letting your scent be ingrained to his brain and nose.

The both of you shared this cherished moment silently, knowing that another opportunity like this will only come once in an eon."

𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡����𝑜𝑛 —

schatz - treasure

singvogel - songbird

copyright © @genesiseven

This was completed at 2:47 a.m LMAO

Tags: @kaiserkisser

[bratdotcom]

Inarticulation

( Chris Redfield x Ethan Winters fluff!)

authors note: I added a link to the instrumental version of Inarticulation by Rio Romeo because I think it fits better!! This is is my first post so enjoy!! I wrote this instead of doing my English hw (^.^) also I'm trying a new writing style so tell me what y'all think!!

wanrings: established relationship, Chris hiding how much he has a crush on his own husband (he's shy to admit it himself, okay?)

Chris huffs in annoyance, he wanted to take a nap. A long nap, a 'bear nap' Rose would say, because of the way he snored. The warmth of the light fixtures above him didn't help him feel any less sleepy.

"Take a picture. It'll last longer."

Ethan says behind him, for once, towering over Chris. Chris was knelt down, surrounded by dusty old boxes. In his hands was a dusty old napkin. A kitschy one at least, probably something Rose had nabbed while out for dinner.

Today was cleaning day.

A day that they both dreaded, dearly. Ethan hated the dust, Chris hated being the one who had to do all the heavy lifting when it came to moving boxes.

Chris again huffs, out of habit with his hands on his hips. The Redfield stance that Ethan knew so well. "What are we going to do with…" Chris gestures to the surrounding boxes with his meaty hand, eyebrows furrowed as he trails off. Another habit of his that the man didn't seem to break. Ethan kneels down beside Chris, picking up another object from the box in front of him.

"Look," He says gently, a soft voice Chris had grown accustomed to. He leans closer to Ethan, eyes raising slightly to soak in whatever he was going to show him. "It's us!" Ethan exclaims, pointing at the framed photograph in his hand. A photo of them and Rose at the beach. Chris meant to hang that photo up sooner- but things happen. He dusts off the glass carefully, a faint cloud of dust forms from where he palmed which causes him to scrunch up his nose slightly.

Chris's eyes soften, he can't help but chuckle seeing Ethan's close examination of the framed photograph in his hand. He uses his sleeve to messily wipe away the remaining dust, he didn't bother to pull out a handkerchief or use the equally dusty napkin in his other hand.

His eyes drop down to the napkin again, then to Ethan. The warmth of the light bulbs above Ethan's head made a small halo form around his crown, but Chris wasn't going to admit that. Even though they're married now. He was too reserved, too closed up to even tell Ethan what he was thinking.

"You're right, we should take a picture." He says instead, a faint smile on his features. Ethan can see every wrinkle, every dimple in his face curve up into a smile. He couldn't help but smile too.

"It'll last longer."

[river-fisher]

@danielleargentino Whooo, I get to ramble! Okay, so I'm first going to preface that this playlist is hella self indulgent, and it's just my personal fave interpretation of their relationship >>

To start off, I put the playlists songs based on chronological order, so there's 4-5 stages. The short longing one before the relationship, the start of the relationship (where I like to think it's more physical rather than romantic at first), the mid relationship where they're going more steady, and then a couple songs about Simon's execution/Simon's release.

Also, I'm Lithuanian so there's some Lithuanian songs in there, anddd since these are all rambles I sent to a friend, I tried to make them more coherent, but this is a really long post, and getting through all these paragraphs properly is just... yeah;;

1. Chamomile by Atlas - okay, so this song could go for both before their relationship and after Simon's release. "Keep a lot of little secrets that I can't reveal", as in, the truth about UR-1. A lot of the lyrics are quite yearning based as well "I often sit and wonder how your hand would feel". For Simon's release, there's lyrics like "i didn't even get anxious when I went out", because I interpret Simon as being so used to routine in prison, that being released causes some issues. "You know the words never sound quite right when they leave my mouth", as in, struggling to relax, to let down his walls.

2. Butch 4 Butch by Rio Romeo - A song about falling for someone, but needing to keep up a tough front, about hanging out and doing dumb shit with someone you really want to enter a relationship with, sitting alone and being so nervous and hoping something happens but it doesn't? Because if it does, it's a sign of weakness?? Yeah, it's just. so Blackbright pre-relationship

3. Palauksiu kol užmigsi by Monique - a song about wanting to be with someone but needing to wait and be patient, and essentially wanting to meet someone in your dreams. It's a song about unrequited love, but it's so sweet, and I do think that Bobby would feel that way about Simon pre-relationship, having to force his feelings down.

4. Everybody talks by Neon trees - This song is like a transition from pre-relationship to the start of their relationship to me. A sudden kiss, forcing their feelings out into the open... It just feels fitting. I don't think a romantic confession would work for Blackbright, so I like to think it was a spur of the moment first kiss.

5. Like or like like by Miniature tigers - A song about liking each other but being unsure if it's a good idea, about being unsure how to go about it. Unsure of their feelings. Also, acting like idiots, getting flustered at small gestures/getting panicked at anything romantic, at this new relationship. It's hard to navigate for them.

6. Trigger of love by JAWNY - gun? detective? asjkhfbsdf okay but fr, "she woke me up to kisses, I'm distancin', told her to stop it", aka, Simon avoiding the romantic aspects, the feelings getting wayy too intense way too quick (like getting shot).

7. Let's fall in love for the night by FINNEAS - "lets fall in love for the night and forget in the morning" i really doubt it was a very like... communicated? relationship at the start, so they'd literally just try to forget it by morning. Just act regular, its not serious. "i know better than to call you mine" is interchangeable. all the lines about wanting to see each other sooner or about like... taking a drive, playing a song, etc it just feels like the little fun that they could have with all the prison restrictions. "you wont stay with me i know, but you can have your way with me until you go" execution. they'd have to part ways, that's interchangeable again

8. Inarticulation by Rio Romeo - its just. another song about the confusion and difficulty of their relationship, while still being sappy. "and when I'm by your side i feel elation, you kiss me slow but without hesitation, you threw me straight into inarticulation" which works so well both ways. its uncharted territory, a new and confusing relationship.

9. If not you by Mello Crum - Kinda like a dedication song that is very Bobby centric. "You’re the reason I do what I do, Cause I want nothing if not you"

10. Problems by mother mother - "i am a sinner, you are a saint", need i say more? It just feels like how Simon would partially view the relationship, or at least pretend he does because of his twisted samurai persona. theres also the lines like "ive found love in the strangest place, tied up and branded, locked in a cage" which. yeah, prison.

11. Killer by the ready set - mainly because of its themes of not being good for the other, so its a simon centric one. also, the "ill tear you up in two" "walk it off if you know whats best for you", so i think itd work well at the start of their relationship.

12. Blow my brains out by tikkle me - another simon centric one, mainly because simon cant be honest. he cant tell bobby about athena, and in a blackbright context, im sure he would want to. also, it talks a lot about "lucky is she, who lives unaware, who doesnt get bothered by all thats unfair" which are very fitting for how simon could view bobby, as in, his unwavering optimism.

13. Know me by sean altman - wanting to be open, to share his struggles, the truth, etc. you know the drill by now. "still id sooner die than utter precious dreams i dreamt up in the gutter" is so simon coded. hed literally rather die than share his genuine feelings imo

14. Sports by beach bunny - bobby wanting to help simon. wanting to be there. being ready at a moments notice, but simon being hesitant. i think itd be a very confusing period for bobby, as he doesnt know the truth, but believes in simons redemption, while simon tries to disprove that in every way possible.

15. Cant get you off of my mind by lenny kravitz - bobby song! about thinking of simon, about wanting him free, about not wanting to push him, about YEARNING!! About thinking of simon, wanting to be near him, to spend proper time together outside of prison.

16. Tea errors by jack stauber - the start is kinda vibe based, but theres also lines like "your love and the fright please go slow so my head will learn" "i cant receive your love right back to the sun". like, jack stauber in general has a lot of abstract songs and the way tea errors just feels... right? even if i cant explain why the lyrics feel accurate.

17. California dreamin by the mamas & the papas - vastly a vibe song about dreaming for something warm and good, but everything being shit and cold. also lines like "if i didnt tell her i could leave today". its also just a song that reminds me of bobby a lot for some reason. also japanifornia

18. Calm me down by mother mother - right, so remember how I said i think their relationship would be quite physical at the start? okay but theres more to it, with lines such ass "use your body, use it to put me to sleep" as a way for simon to cope. "put myself through living hell" "when you took me in, absolved my sins". "i wanna be a good man, dont wanna be no has-been, i wanna be a real friend", aka, simons yearning to be genuine

19. Light upon the surface by sleepwalk - its a lot of the vibes, its kind of like. a light song? but also heavy and somber. it just feels fitting, especially with the "light reflects on the surface up ahead just above where the water breaks the sun". its really abstract but its just the feels

20. Sweet hangman by elliotly - execution reference. but yeah, its a song about bobby breaking down simons walls and simon being terrified of that, the want of domestic life, them both wanting to avoid the upcoming execution, but being unable to completely open up just yet.

21. Dead inside by younger hunger - such a simon song with the whole "ive got a real big heart that im willing to hide" and the lying about being shallow. also, theres a lot of lyrics like "hey pretty baby with the sun in your eye" which just. feels like bobby

22. I wanna be your slave by Maneskin - the interchanging dynamics, the complicated relationship, and with lyrics like "im a [blank} whos searching for redemption" is just. yeah. yeahh

23. Closer by nine inch nails - ........physical relationship. not gonna get into it much here, but yeah, i think its partially how Simon could cope, with lyrics like "help me get away from myself" "you can have my isolation"

24. Baby said by Maneskin - so yknow how everybody talks marked the start of their relationship? this one marks this weird in between part, where the relationship starts to get strained due to a lack of honesty/communication/etc. its bobby wanting to know more about simon, but simon still trying to keep to himself, which creates tension.

25. Thats all by genesis - the arguing, the "i could leave but i wont go", the stubbornness, the frustration with how things are in the relationship.

26. Losing my religion by r.e.m. - bobby song! about really really wanting to help simon, about losing his religion, or more like, his usual need to follow protocol. his sense of justice. questioning the system, etc. also, the lines "i thought that i heard you laughing/sing/try" etc?? simon opening up, but covering it up, and bobby just letting it go. but it was there, even if it was just a glimpse!! "trying to keep an eye on you like a hurt lost and blinded fool" because trying to rehabilitate simon is generally considered a fools errand!! who actually believes the twisted samurai can be redeemed? but bobby still tries and believes, and when he sees glimpses??? of simon actually trying?

27. Cast the bronze by raynes - ohhh baby, this ones such a bobby song!!! just. the self sacrifice, the "make me bleed if you need to confirm that its something i can do, and ill paint it red". also kinda a dead bobby song?? but only subtly.

28. Feels like we only go backwards by tame impala - in between. the push and pull of simon not wanting to lock in, bobby wanting to just. put everything out there. "you sound silly when you call my name, but i hear it inside my head all day" "the seed of all this indecision isnt me cause i decided long ago" is so bobby coded, you know???

29. Foolishly wrong by autoheart - kinda a song between the start of their relationship and the mid way point, mainly about how something has to snap, and they have to start communicating more, even if just a bit. also, "if we carry this on, well be foolishly wrong, and wed end up alone.". also also, the song is called "foolishly wrong". ....foolbright

30. Drop the guillotine by peach pit - come on, its an execution method! but yeah, by this point, were entering the proper mid relationship territory. the intense feeling that comes so quick, its overwhelming. also, the "just brush it off, youve got her feeling weak" is such a "gotta be a tough bad boy" thing to me.

31. Sweet talk by saint motel - a song about one person cussing the other out and it sounding like sweet talk to the other?? "oh when you laugh, i forgive that its about me" is like, yeah, bobby really doesnt mind any of the jabs simon makes. "yeah well im not scared im not going nowhere" as in, being steady for simon??

32. Mylėt nebijau by aistė - another lithuanian one! "not afraid to love". it has lyrics like "net audroje tavo ranką laikau" which means "even during the storm ill hold your hand". its just a song about staying with someone even during the hard shit

33. Are you bored yet by wallows, clairo - another interchangeable one. "will you tell the truth so i dont have to lie". "when we get old will we regret this?" more like will bobby regret it. theres a big chance hed end up alone. "i dont know where were goin but id like to be by your side". "and if youre feeling lonely, you should tell me before this ends up as another memory". its just like. grief. i love grief.

34. Supermassive black hole by muse - space themes, "how long before you let me go?" "i thought i was a fool for no one but baby im a fool for you" "how long before you tell the truth?" is just. agghhh!!!

35. Tu plauki by garbanotas - it translates to "youre swimming" and its basically about... mmm, wanting to swim with someone, to avoid drowning, and asking for help with that? its metaphorical and fitting, but its very difficult to properly explain the lyrics for it;;

36. Too sweet by hozier - ITS ALL ABOUT THE CONTRAST BETWEEN THEM. THE ONE THAT GOES TO SLEEP EARLY, THE ONE THAT GOES LATE. THE ONE WHO CARES ABOUT LIFE AND HEALTH, AND THE ONE WHO DOESNT. its just. agh, the knowing that hes going to die. being nonchalant about it. bobby being too sweet for him.

37. Money by the drums - yknow, id get rather frustrated if i couldnt get my partner gifts or take them places, if i was always on the receiving end. yeah, a simon song, because he cant do shit in prison.

38. I wanna boi by pwr bttm - its not so much yearning, as it is wishing that they could properly be together. watch tv, cuddle when the house is freezing, etc. its a song about wanting a proper domestic life together.

39. Me and michael by mgmt - THEYRE SUCH A DUO. LIKE, NOT EVEN ROMANTICALLY NECESSARILY, THEY JUST WORK SO WELL. where they are going steady and are working super well together, because they just have such a delightful professional dynamic

40. Against the kitchen floor by will wood - "so i could hold your hand but keep you at arms length or hang me from a branch too high to climb and shake". "im sorry i promise im doing my best i just havent learned how to be human as you are yet", as in, i dont know how to do this relationship bullshit. its just. all the doubt, all the trying to be good, the not understanding why anyone would want a relationship with someone on death bloody row.

41. Hey lover! by wabie - "i love you just the way you are", as in, bobby loving simon even if hes kind of a mess? even if he cant be honest? even if he has such a rough exterior? even if he says shit that stings??? the patience, the understanding... its just. bobby.

42. I was made for lovin you by kiss - this song is so fucking fun. its also just kinda a bobby coded song, both based on the time it was released and vibes. he would sing this and mean every godamn word, and i cant be convinced otherwise.

43. Because the night by patti smith - its just a song about how the night belongs to them. they cant do shit during the day, they cant be open about their relationship, but in those quiet times when theyre alone, they can be well, honest. because the night belongs to them, to lovers. ....also, "in the night we trust"

44. Gėlėta suknia by garbanotas - the title means like.. a flower patterned dress. its just. kinda like a sappy song? the lyrics are kinda like "she follows you slowly from behind, and you look back and she isnt there, theres just the dress on the floor, shes already naked" just. the sweetness of the song, the following, the looking back.....

45. Hidden in the sand by tally hall - "when you had to bid adieu, said youd never love anew" grief. also, the "i wondered if i could hold it and fall in love with it too" as in, bobby is quite idealistic and optimistic, simon wondering if he could try to be too, even when the end is near.

46. 505 by Arctic monkeys - to me, this song is kinda tragic? its kind of like... bobby falling for simon, caring for him, knowing that when he "puts his hands around his neck", its not lethal, its not dangerous. the rush to try and help simon before the execution, to try to "save" him. missing him, missing his smile. i also like thinking of the 45 min drive as the drive to the prison. "i crumble completely when you cry" also just feels accurate

47. Little lion man by mumford & sons - simon guilt song! could work as just something really hurtful happening to bobby, but also to bobby being dead. it could also work well as bobby having wanted to help simon but failing (the whole idea that bobby met simon before being killed and impersonated)

48. Be nice to me by the front bottoms - this song works really well when its close to simons execution date. the running out of time lines, the "can we talk about this later? your voice is driving me insane", as in, its just really difficult to focus with all the weight on his shoulders. he has to catch the phantom. if he doesnt, his sacrifice, well, isnt quite for nothing, but he cant avenge his mentor. pushing bobby away both to spare him if he doesnt make it in time and because he cant really handle anything else.

49. Community gardens by the scary jokes, louie zong - this song has always been a sad song to me. it always feels like a goodbye, a "youll be fine" without me. it feels especially fitting with "the price that you pay for arrogance and a false sense of immunity, is to face the wrath of a dying star." like. this song is like the beginning and end of blackbright to me. a frustrated simon, a hopeful bobby, and then just. the farewell, one way or another.

50. Mr loverman by ricky montgomery - the song itself was written for the singers father, who lost his wife i believe. so the song is very grief based and, yeah, simon execution shit, but it also works the other way around with simon missing bobby depending on a persons interpretation of when he died.

51. Revenge by xxxtentacion - ....grief. this one is solely simon. the grief of the real bobby fulbright. the want for vengeance.

52. Address unknown by the ink spots - real bobby dead. "address unknown, not even a trace of you" etc etc. kind of a guilt song, about having needed to look for him sooner, about not realizing, etc.

53. Migla by tas - its like... aghh a fairly vague song again..... i think it works as another grief song. its kind of like... mist clearing but the fog remaining, the difficulty of thinking, of processing

54. LOSER! by Lisa Hellter - so this final section is for songs that work post Simon's release, songs that would be too sweet otherwise. this is one of those. "When I used to be so cool and calm and lonely all the time",

55. Meilė neišblėso by lyja - its not entirely fitting because some of the song is about like. made up characters, but its about love not fading away, even during all the hard times a couple goes through. its also just the vibes, the calmness, the roughness of the song

56. So american by olivia rodrigo - bobby is so american. this is actually the rare song that would only work in a bobby lives au after simon gets released. its just. sappy. its fitting. its just. yeah, bobby would absolutely feel this intensely, while being cautious as to not be overbearing?? yknow?

57. I only have eyes for you by the flamingos - this one is absolutely just a love song. but it also has that old timey vibe that fits so well with how i think of fulbright. it has some star theming too... and i can imagine them dancing to it.

58. Tirpstu tavyje by aistė - its probably a post simon gets released song, because it has words like "kaip gera būti dviese", aka, "so good to be together" and "tirpstu tavyje" means kind of like... melting into you, but in a sweet way, like how butter melts. so yeah, it feels fitting to me

Anyway, that's all! so sorry for the long post. I tried editing it down, but this is such a behemoth that already took me like. 2 hours straight to write down originally and i really dont wanna spend that much time editing it;;;

[tumblingxelian]

Storyteller Akuma: K, this thought wouldn’t leave me be, but I'm not sure how well it’s going to translate from brain to page, so bear with me.

I see part of Ladybug Not Being Affected . . . like, she is being influenced, it just SEEMS like she isn’t, because 1) as we discussed, she's the hero, & 2) 1 of the major influencers right now is CHAT NOIR, who knows Ladybug really damn well, so she's basically herself, right? Well one thing that just hit me-

Right now, Ladybug IS NOT Marinette.

Like, as much as people write about it, Ladybug & Marinette are not separate people. Ladybug is not an entire act Marinette is putting on, but rather an extension of herself. Ladybug makes choices that Marinette absolutely would, because THEY ARE THE SAME PERSON. BUT . . . No one knows who Ladybug is behind the mask. Not even Chat. So things DO go a little different, because Marinette's BIAS isn’t there.

Cause like. I think we all agree that Marinette is very "Black-White/What-Is-This-Grey-You-Speak-Of?" in her worldview. It's basically why, when Chloé DOES make efforts to change, they go either unacknowledged, or misinterpreted, because Marinette has several YEARS of Chloé being a rude, unrepentant, Rich Bitch Bully. & I'm not saying it’s wrong for Marinette to think that way, but it's what makes it all so hard for the girls to see where the other is coming from. It colours their every interaction, even when Chloé is trying her hardest to please Ladybug. But right now? Ladybug isn't - CAN'T - be Marinette. & her biggest influence is Chat Noir, who sees Ladybug as herself, yes, but also her BEST self. So that changes things.

Like, Ladybug is AWARE that she's really Marinette Dupain-Cheng. But if she focuses too hard on that, she starts slipping into whatever the Storytellers see Marinette as, & nope, can’t do that, so we are Ladybug right now! & none of the Storytellers know that Ladybug is Marinette, so they don’t think to apply Marinette actions to Ladybug. & what this really means, is that Ladybug finds it easy to be sympathetic to Chloé in particular. Because without the years of animosity between them, if Marinette had met Chloé as a teen, & seen first hand how her parents treat her? Oh, she'd be FURIOUS. How DARE they treat their daughter like that!? Can't they see how they're hurting her!? How hard she's trying to be what they want!? How miserable she is!?

Or what about Adrien? Without the crush blindness, what does she think of him? How does she see him? Like, yes, at the core Ladybug & Marinette are the same person, but - *inarticulate gestures cause my brain is failing me*

It basically lets her view the whole situation objectively, so when everything is over . . .

Ooh I am excited!

Yeees, yeah I can totally see this, I love exploring the distinction in identities and sense of self that come with the mask. (Ask me about Six-Teen-Heroes sometime XD) But yeah cos like, her magic, role in the Akuma's narrative and all three but especially Chat's dominant experience with her means Ladybug is gonna be pretty close to her professional hero self... While Marinette is sort of... Not quite there right now.

Also yeah Chat not knowing whose behind the mask plays heavily into things to, so true, he only as the Ladybug perception. & Marinette returning to the field will have been 'in character' as well.

You are also right I hadn't considered that but I love it! Cos yeah she's got several years of negative experience with Chloe & a rather simplistic world view where parents are good & loving, authority figures are generally reliable and being nice is natural and easy. Intellectually she may know bad parents exist but Chloe's life on the outside looking in, is not super obvious on that front unless coming at it from an adult or more neutral perspective. So to Marinette there's no real explanation save "Spoiled rotten". But for Ladybug, none of that stuff applies!

Let alone the fact that Chat probably wouldn't mind it if they got along, he always seemed amused by their interactions X3 Also true facts on her best/ideal self.

Yeah there's definitely be some dissonance there, and to avoid losing herself she probably leans harder on Ladybug but is maybe also a lil freaked out somewhere cos she doesn't want to not be herself either. Everyone's getting a messed up mind today!

so they don’t think to apply Marinette actions to Ladybug.

Action, feelings or history, so at most its like, oh the ever professional Ladybug can be a bit eh on the exuberant Chloe & that's at worst.

Also yeah I can see it, hell if they'd only met as heroes she'd possibly be full on fond of her even without seeing her trauma. Or at least able to go "OK that was rude but like, god damn what an over reaction." Let alone yeah Audrey at least would be something she could pick up on. Add in stuff like Maladikator and all the pieces would fall into place given Akuma are not meant to harm their loved one's and both her parents try to harm or use her as Akuma. So it'd be all red flags all the time, especially cos she's a hero in all their eyes.

Gosh yeah that'd be interesting, like does Adrien's perception of himself as Adrien VS Chat play into things as well? So many angles!

But yeah I love this so much.

Low key just imagining post purifications everyone just flops onto the floor unsure what to do with themselves. Probably feeling a bit eased up like in that original ask I sent you:

The rich kids have taken knives to each other. They've cut open their festering wounds. The rot is exposed, scrubbed raw. While they lie angry, bleeding, crying, and dying [inside], they have the opportunity to look upon themselves once more and apply new dressings.

Or maybe a little relieved, or hell jus confused. Marinette-Bug is not much better, but like if Chloe tries to flee, or put up an act, she might just get that hug she's been starving for all her life and just fucking breakdown sobbing.