#my rotten little brain

[ninyard]

“God, how blind can you be?”

That would be such a great line for a kevjean confession if Jean ever told Kevin abt his crush on him in the nest.

Ty, have a great day :))

You’re a genius!!! Here’s Kevin being Oblivious and Confused while Jean admits how he’s always felt about him :))

-

“Can I ask you something?” Kevin lay in Jeremy’s bed, on top of the covers, with arms outstretched and his feet dangling off the edge. “But you can’t get defensive, because I’m not the one who’s wondering.”

“Now I am obligated to be defensive.” Jean was sitting on his back up against the wall on his own bed, scribbling notes in a notebook for an assignment due far too soon. Kevin had texted him earlier that morning saying that he was in town, and with Jeremy at home because it was a weekday, alongside the schoolwork Jean had started to fall behind on, the best way for the two to catch up was to invite Kevin over. “Ask, then.”

“Are you…” Kevin sat himself up to look at Jean before he continued. “Are you and Renee a thing?”

“No.” Jean laughed. “She has not told you this?”

“We aren’t that close,” Kevin shook his head. “She likes you, you know.”

Jean could feel himself blushing, but hoped his newfound tan covered the colour that spread across his cheeks. “I know. We’ve spoken about it.”

“You’ve spoken about it,” Kevin repeated as if saying it again would make it make more sense. “I thought you liked her.”

“It would never work.” Jean said. “She saved my life. It would always be hanging over the two of us.”

“Okay, sure, but…” Kevin moved to get a better view of Jean while they spoke. “You do like her?”

Jean read his face with a gentle smile, shutting his notebook and putting it to one side. “What is this about?”

His friend squinted his eyes, perhaps hoping he could get his point across telepathically without having to say it out loud. He glanced towards the door and laughed. “So you like Renee.”

“I will always love her for what she has done,” Jean said with a shrug. “But no, not so much anymore. We’re good friends.”

“Point being,” Kevin nodded with an over exaggerated, enthusiastic bob of his head. “You’re into women.”

Jean felt his face fall, as if Kevin had forgotten his name, or forgotten which position he played in. He scoffed, half a laugh and half disbelief, “You can’t be serious.”

“Am I right?”

“Kevin, you can’t be serious.” Jean echoed, and Kevin furrowed his eyebrows as if he had any right to be confused. “Where has this come from?”

“A friend of a friend wants to know,” Kevin brushed that off, and continued his staring stand-off with Jean. “Why would I not be serious?”

Jean gestured around himself, not even able to come up with a simple answer to his question. Jean was never bothered about the labelling of his sexuality, but had been bothered by its display. At least, publically, he thought, which just translated to not in front of Riko. Not Kevin, never Kevin. Kevin had known, or so he thought, about his infatuations and fleeting glances at the men he thought were handsome. Kevin had known about himself, and how it made Jean feel every time he heard the sweet sound of his native tongue falling from his lips.

“You…” Nothing felt good enough, and Jean laughed at the absurdity of it all. “You know it’s not just women, Kevin.”

Kevin blinked. “Do I?”

“Those foxes have rotted your brain,” Jean switched to French, ever so slightly startling Kevin out of his confused daze. “I knew you had moved on from the nest, but I did not think you would have forgotten so much about me.”

“Well, in my defense,” Kevin responded in his learned language, and Jean melted a little bit more inside. “Jeremy asked you if you were into men, and you never answered him, so he assumed he’d read you wrong.”

“Jeremy?” Jean spat in a failed whisper. “What does Jeremy have to do with this?”

Kevin became even more confused. “Who else would it have anything to do with?”

“Don’t play stupid,” Jean shifted his position to sit closer to the edge of the bed. “You know it has everything to do with you.”

“Me?” He said in English, as if wary he’d gotten the translation wrong. He continued in French. “Okay, there must be a miscommunication here.” He switched back to English then, as he started to stumble over his French, suddenly self conscious that he was not speaking correctly. “I’m lost, Jean.”

“I have always been open with you,” Jean said. “I have never hidden from you my interests in men and women. Why would you pretend not to know that?”

Kevin open and closed his mouth a few times, his hands outstretched, waiting for the answer to fall into them. “I didn’t know that.”

Jean shut his eyes to process what Kevin was saying. Perhaps Jean had simply given his intelligence far too much credit, and he had not been as clear to Kevin as he’d imagined he’d been. He thought that impossible, with their shared glances on a lonely night, with their comfort of each other when Riko wasn’t looking. “Some of them you like,” Jean quoted something he’d said to him before. “You said this about the Trojans. If you were not talking about the striker, then who were you talking about?”

“Like, as in,” Kevin’s smile was more genuine than awkward, apparently finding some amusement out of the confusion. “A fan of. You like someone. They interest you. You’re as much of a Jeremy fan as I am. I didn’t think you were into him.”

“And you were not.” Jean didn’t pose it as a question, more of a statement, an answer for himself.

“He’s not bad to look at, don’t get me wrong,” Kevin laughed at the thought. “But not like that. He’s just a really good friend.”

Jean pinched his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. He heard Kevin’s movement and felt the weight on the bed next to him as he sat down. When Jean opened his eyes, he had to look away, far too intoxicatingly reminded of his buried thoughts about Kevin.

“Jean,” Kevin pulled his attention back to him, and Jean forced himself to look into his eyes. “Why did you say it has everything to do with me?”

“God,” Jean clicked his tongue in pity, either for himself for being so stupid to think Kevin knew, or at Kevin for not noticing. “How blind can you be?”

“You had a crush on me.” Kevin’s voice was neutral. “You never told me.”

Jean sighed with a hesitant smile. “I thought I did.”

It felt like an age before Kevin decided to respond. It felt like the season had passed, like a year in Raven time had gone by, before he spoke. It was hard to ignore the blush that crept across his lightly freckled cheeks, as Jean found himself fixated on the chess piece on his cheekbone. They were too close, now, and he could feel himself burning up with the shame of it all.

“I didn’t know.” It was simple, not enough, but perhaps the best he could do. “For how long?”

Jean couldn’t help the twitch that spread up his face, “You are the one interested in history, not me.”

“Humor me.”

“For as long as I have known you, Kevin Day.” His eyebrows raised in surprise at that answer. Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that.

“Oh,” was all he could say. He couldn’t find a smile that would sit comfortably on his face, and Jean wasn’t sure whether his fidgeting was discomfort or not.

“I never expected anything to come from it,” he attempted to clear the air. “I assumed you knew and simply decided not to address it. Looking back, it’s best you didn’t know, then, I think.”

“You don’t have to say that.” Kevin’s voice was low as he racked his brain for evidence to support Jean’s truth. “I wish you’d told me.”

“To feed your ego?” Jean laughed. “To make a straight man feel better to know he is desirable from either side?”

“You don’t have to say that, either.” Kevin spoke in French like it were a secret. “I’m with Thea now, sure, but,” he struggled. “I’m not exactly, you know… strict about it. It’s just easier this way.”

The only thing Jean could do was look at him.

The only thing he could bear to think was all the times he’d whispered in Jean’s ear, and Jean had to hide the shiver that travelled down his spine at the heat of the words thats he spoke. He thought of Kevin’s hands around his waist as he forced him into position on the court, a quick touch, an order to be better, a demand to be where he needed him to be. Then there was the blood, and the spit running down his chin, black hair stuck to sweat and tears as he cried please, Jean. Take him away from here. He thought of exposed bone and blood trickling through the cracks on the locker room floor, or a cracked skull against a door frame when he found Riko afterwards. There was the note, a single sloppy word, poorly written by a hand that had never wrote before. Sorry. The paper had been marked with Kevin’s blood, and it would be the last thing he would hear from him for months.

Kevin had stopped Jean’s hands before he noticed them travelling up his own throat.

“For the record, there is only one reason why nothing would have come from it,” Kevin meant it as a comfort, and Jean felt his heart break a little bit more. “But it’s the same reason it never would have worked.”

Jean was not naive, either. He was smart enough to know there was no universe in which any sort of relationship with Kevin would have been realistic. He was a beautiful face during a time that was rarely beautiful, a face that patched him up when he was black and blue, a face that smiled and joked at him when all he wanted was an end to the suffering. “I know.” Jean said, acutely aware that Kevin had not let go of his hands, even as they rested between them on the bed. “You will always be my first love, but I am smart enough to know that is meaningless now.”

“Maybe so,” Kevin looked at their hands. “But it could have been fun.”

“Fun, he says,” Jean scoffed, and Kevin laughed one of his genuine laughs, the tension in the room dissipating with the sound of his joy. Jean pulled his hand away from Kevin’s, to cover his face. He could feel himself blushing at the thoughts of what fun could have meant. “And what would you have done, asked the king to leave your room for an hour?”

It was Kevin’s turn to blush then, as he laughed again. Jean tried to push down the resurfacing feelings as he wondered what he could’ve possibly been imagining. “We would have found a way.” His laugh died off with a wistful sigh. “Somehow.”

“Somehow.” Jean agreed.

Kevin let the silence hang for just a moment before he gently reached up to touch Jean’s tattoo, then letting his hands fall back to his sides. “Maybe in another life.”

Jean swallowed and let out a soft exhale. “Maybe.”

They spent far too long just looking at each other, imagining what could have happened in that other life, wondering how it could’ve been different. Kevin eventually got back to the point of his conversation, and after laughing about how Jean has a thing for strikers, and how Kevin had never actually had a crush on Jeremy, Jean ignored his study for the flowing conversations he’d missed so badly. It was true that Kevin had been his first love, and he would be lying to himself if he said it would ever go away, but they had been each other’s only friend for so long. It was a long overdue catch-up without the threat of violence for laughing too loud, or sitting too close together. He didn’t pretend not to notice the way Kevin’s eyes flicked to his lips every now and again, or how quickly he would look away when he caught himself doing so. It was difficult to ignore how his cheeks turned rosy then, and even more so difficult to ignore how much he’d forgotten how beautiful Kevin really was.

For just a single, simple moment Jean wondered what it would be like to kiss him. That was a thought that had not crossed his mind for a very, very long time. Jean pictured a timeline in which they were both able to give it a shot without immeasurable guilt, or shame, or fear over the court of public opinion. He found himself being reminded over and over again that Kevin had finally said it himself that his sexuality was a fluid thing. There were more reasons that not to write it off as a wrong place, wrong time kind of issue, but even with the stomach churning, butterfly inducing thought of Jeremy Knox and his callused hands, it was certain that Kevin would always be his greatest what-if.

It was a pity that they would both continue on with their lives not knowing what could have been, but perhaps for the best; they were both at points in their lives where, for the first time ever, they were happy. They were not constantly glancing over their shoulders waiting for a threat.

Maybe in another life, Jean told himself. Maybe in some other world.

[tired-reader-writer]

Can't write rn so have this:

“I'll kill them,” says the saffron-clad girl with jagged tattoos. “I'll kill them all. The fake-ass princes, the king, the nobles. Everyone. All of them. They'll never become a problem for my hometown. Never. I'm gonna make sure of it.”

Alfarīd takes in the sight of Ashaya's hidden face, the tremor in their lengthy frame. Takes in their voice, so full of bitterness and anger, so full of...

Fear.

Ashaya is afraid.

And who wouldn't be, when it's you against the world?

She lets herself plop down on Ashaya like she's seen cats do with each other. You can die at the hands of royalty, monkey. Consider it an honor. “Well, that makes it two of us, ey?”

Ashaya snorts. “Congratulations, you've just got a roadside fox stuck to your side for perpetuity. Now what?”

“Were you even listening to yourself? We're gonna rid the world of pests.”

“The rat bastard with the silver mask first?”

“The rat bastard with the silver mask first.”

[bgsdraws]

Girls night !

[bakiuwu]

Ok, i have held on to this baki hc for about 2 years, I like to think emi taught baki a very important technique.......using your looks to get what you want. Emi used this technique plenty of times when she was younger(mainly to get herself out of trouble). She felt the need to pass it down to baki. All she'll have to do is bonk her head and act cutesy/naive, and whoever is around will do whatever she asks/ let her off the hook for whatever she did.

It's more of a manipulation technique, baki himself doesn't use it often......BUT ONLY WHEN IT'S NEED. Mainly, with not doing homework/projects when he actually goes to school, he bonks his head, flutters his eyes, and acts all cutesy. His teacher will fold and give him a passing grade, and other than that, he's not the type to use it on a everyday basis(.....maybe if he really wants to get a fight outta someone).

THIS TECHNIQUE DOESN'T WORK ON EVERYONE. before Emi taught baki this technique, she warned him never to use It on yujiro or strydum it has no effect on them....like at all. Even with the warning his mother gave, he still tried it on Yujiro......he was thrown into a wall.

The technique works best on strangers, it's effectiveness is based on the type of relationship baki has with a person. It either works on some, doesn't work on some, or it works... but it might backfire. He tried it on Tokugawa, and he went full grandpa mode.

He started pinching tf outta of his cheeks and started nuzzling him. He starts referring to him as his" cute little grandson he never had😭". It's not wise for him to try it on older folks. They'll lose all sense and start rambling about how adorable he is. For the most part, it can take effect along the lines of them speaking out about how cute baki is......but they won't do what he say. Most times, he'll get trapped into some type of bearhug,getting cheeks pinched or getting head ruffle(if the person he trying it on is way bigger then him, he's most def gonna get trap in a bearhug....hes so small)

If someone is aware of the technique, it will not work on them. Other than yujiro and strydum, it doesn't work on gaia. Why? Because he's super cute, just like baki. Gaia himself has done it before, so he knows what type of game baki is playing. It also doesn't have an effect on kurhea.....for obvious reasons......omg this is so stupid

(I just want everyone to acknowledge how small and adorable baki is😭)

[oldirontender]

god i fucking love reading the tags on polls with the engines on it. non ttte ppl reblogging with tags like "how in god's name is a train winning" and i am forced to remember that most people don't know train lore and to the average person, henry is literally just a train. he is literally just a steam engine with a face. it's so fucking funny to imagine some person voting for the opponent and immediately being hit with the whiplash that they're losing to an honest to god train with a face

[daughterthethird]

Ok im back from my workshop (capcut) so here’s my personal interpretation of how the non-speaking coven heads would’ve sounded like! (excluding Osran because i haven’t found a voice that suits him yet im sorry grandpa)

Here’s all the voice i used in order:

Lady Dimitrescu (Hettie Cutburn)

Spider-Man Noir (Mason)

Those bandage doctors from TAWOG idk their names (Vitimir)

[theegargoyle]

i need to stop playing postal 2 istg, like today i woke up at 6am and was genuinely 15 fucking minutes hallucinating that i was stuck in the main menu of the game, and it only stopped when i accidentally punched my bedside table and went "hold on a second." give me the damn lobotomy already

[kakusu-shipping]

Like an open book

It is 4:30am, my Air Conditioning unit sounds like a washing machine on full power, and it is simply impossible to sleep, so let’s write a Nook X Reader, hm?

Tom Nook X Island Rep/GN!Reader

In which you eat dirt

“I see you...innocently running in a great field...” 

“They respond right away this time...”

Another quiet day was slowly winding to a close outside Resident Services windows as Tom Nook relaxed back into his chair, stretching his paws over the desk.

Across from him, his peppy assistant Isabelle was taking the down time to catch up on some novel one of the residents had recommended to her. Just watching her expressions, Nook had picked up the plot considerably. It was a romance, never too steamy and hardly sweet, somewhere near the middle the main hunk had betrayed the story’s maiden in some major way, and now, three chapters to the end, he way dying.

Tom was never sure if he was just remarkable at reading faces, or if young Isabelle was just too easy to read. He’d wondered if he was once that expressive, wearing a story on his face and he walked naively through life.

Looking back, it was probably fine that he had, and would have been better if he’d continued to do so.

Movement outside the front window pulled Nook from memory lane; The Island Rep was whizzing through the main plaza, a to-go coffee from Brooster’s in one hand, a gift from one resident to another in the other.

Now that was youth, Tom thought to himself, acting to stretch as he stood and made way to get closer to the window. The rep had practically built this island with their own two hands, and now spent their time running from one corner to the next, filling the museum with every bug, fish, fossil, and painting they could get their hands on.

They were quiet the feat, weren’t they? So vibrant, goal oriented, and caring to the other residents. They didn’t complain about the ludicrous amount of work assigned to them. If Nook were a younger man, he might have helped share that burden more evenly, spent less time in the tent and more time in the grass pulling weeds, planting flowers, and picking fruit.

Tom was once again snapped from past regrets by swift movement out the window. Still hot coffee spilled across the brick of the square, seeping into a gift wrapped apology gift that would probably have to be returned to the sender.

The Island Rep lay face down in the center of the square, still and flat. No one else was around to see them trip and catch the ground with their face, only Nook, who stood frozen at the window.

“Mr. Nook? What happened?” Isabelle half closed her book and looked up, sensing the sudden stillness.

Tom didn’t answer, instead rushing as fast as his old but not quiet middle aged old joints were willing to let him go. Isabelle, who’d at most seen Nook pretend race walk after his boys, was reasonably startled by his hurry, and quickly followed him.

Outside, the Rep had finally recovered enough to start pushing themselves up on their hands. Tom stood by to offer assistance, a quiet “Are you okay?” on his lips, though overly concerned thoughts of bruised ribs and knocked out teeth ran through his head at mach speed. They didn’t have a doctor on the island, why didn’t they have a doctor on the island?

The Island Rep pushed themselves to their feet, smiling and waving off Nook, “I’m fine, I’m fine” They said, which was simply not true, as it normally isn’t when one catches themselves on rough stone chin first.

Tom was rather surprised Isabelle hadn’t shrieked loud enough to alarm the entire island.

The Rep’s chin was gashed, bleeding down on their shirt. The cut matched their smile, wide and red and prominently centered in the face. It was the kind of wound that’d probably need stitches, not something one should just walk away with.

Which they almost did, mind you.

The Rep laughed off their fall and thanked Nook for checking on them all while picking up the trashed to-go coffee cup and delivery. If the adrenaline from the fall had worn off, they sure didn’t show it, as they continued on about having to bring the gift back to it’s sender, the clothing inside completely ruined with coffee.

“m-Mayor...” Isabelle looked as though she might faint, which was a fair reaction to have to such a mess on their peaceful town, “Y-You-r.. Your ch-chin...”

The Rep, or as Isabelle may address them as a left over from their previous town together, The Mayor, began to reach up to their chin, a question on their face. Tom stepped in quicker than expected, pressing his personal pocket hankie to the wound instead. The Island Rep flinched at the pressure.

So they can feel pain. That’s a good sign, probably.

“Hold this here.” Tom Nook spoke in a tone that held no room for argument, as his rep did as they were told, pressing the cloth into their chin with enough force to stop the bleeding.

“Isabelle,” Nook addressed, the younger jumping to attention, finally taking her eyes off their mayor, “Can you handle resident services alone for a bit? I’m going to take the rep to the HHP island, they have a hospital there.”

The words of protest started on the rep’s lips, and were stopped dead in their tracks by a look from Tom. They swallowed, and looked anywhere by at Nook, shifting the cloth on their chin.

“O-Oh. Y-Yes I will be fine!” Isabelle stood to attention and saluted, eyes shut firmly in a fit of determination.

Tom nodded and placed a paw on his rep’s shoulder, turning them to the airport, “I’m counting on you. And please return this if you have a moment.” He spoke, handing Isabelle the ruined present the Rep had been delivering.

Isabelle nodded, taking the coffee soaked gift, “I’ve got it! Have a safe flight!” She waved, beaming with confidence at being left alone in Resident Service.

Nook never took his paw off The Island Representative’s, his representive, your shoulder as he spoke to Orville about booking a flight. The flightless bird having much the same reaction as Isabelle to the gash in your chin, which you’d shown him unprompted by uncovering Nook’s kerchief just enough when Orville caught your eye.

On the plane his paw was on your knee, then thigh, into your hand. The whole time his leg bounced as he stared out the window. You wondered what kind of crazy nerves were rattling in that fuzzy head of his. What loops was he taking himself through scared for you, the island, poor Isabelle and Orville. What would Lottie say, he must be asking himself.

Perhaps he was planning to have the pavement in the plaza evened out, shaved down, or even pay to have it full repaved more flat. No more loose, uneven bricks, smooth clean concrete. But that wouldn’t look very pretty would it? And it would take time, and bells, and inconvenience those who needed Resident Services at all hours.

You leaned ever so slightly onto Nook, holding his paw between your fingers, watching him mentally go over every possible option to make sure a disaster like this never happens again, that everyone involved was properly compensated, and that you, oh so important you, recovered comfortably so you could be back on your feet, sprinting from here to there however you pleased as soon as possible.

“I see you...innocently running in a great field...” Katrina’s fortune from this morning played in your head as you closed your eyes, “I see a lost seagull sailor in need of help...” She’d said. You didn’t quiet understand at the time. Luck in Friendship, Misfortune in Health.

With Tom Nook’s paw finally relaxing in your hand, the flight calming the Tanuki’s anxieties, you supposed now it made a bit more sense.

[littledigits]

Your drawings are very cute I adore them

thank you, oh sweetest of potatoseseses <3

[hotdrinks]

HmmmmDid u know I love Martin Blackwood so much

[festeringhorror]

Normal bondage is great, but there’s such a delicate eroticism to barely being able to move your fingers

[amazingdeadfish]

BLUE N VIOLET SERIES. YOU. YOU. YOU. I LOVE UR FIC. IM EATING IT AND SPEEDRUNNING THROUGH THE QUEST FOR THE SKELETON KEY. ur writing style tastes like candied fruits, jus sayin :3

OUGHABAKXBFJAH- Thank you so much!!! Idk how fast you can read 300,000+ words (loud sobbing noises because why did I write so much) buddy but good luck!!! ヾ⁠(⁠*⁠’⁠Ｏ⁠’⁠*⁠)⁠/. And thank you again, I'm glad my writing seems to taste like a nice treat :'))).

[distortedclouds]

Alright, instead of napping i was angsting and I'm dragging you all to sad hell with me

Annie says about her father, along the lines of: "he beat his homeland's fighting style into me."

But I don't think there was much beating. Nothing extreme at least. Doing some basic math, it wouldn't be a stretch to assume her father started training her at age 5.

(Annie was 11 at the beginning of the Paradis mission. It's not a stretch to assume she's been a titan shifter for at least 1 year beforehand. The training for the warrior candidates could be as long as the training for the military in paradis, so 3 years, so 7 when she joins. Add 1-2 more years of training beforehand.)

Putting so much hope on Annie, i doubt Mr Leonhart would risk injuring her. Marley probably won't allow a kid with a limp or bad shoulder to become a warrior, even if the powers would heal them all up

So that got me thinking he would resort to other ways of coercing her into training that wouldn't risk permanently injuring her. And the best answer I could find is locking her up for extended periods of time, maybe in a closet, basement, or even a somewhat large-enough chest.

This would explain why Annie went with crystalization as her final resort. Her punishment for not performing as commanded was to get locked up, so that's what she does.

It's not only a way to stop the enemy from capturing her, her locking herself up in a crystal is Annie inflicting her own self punishment

[lonely--seeker]

I've been thinking about that really dumb single dads au i made like a year ago and never told anyone about it because why not...

[vveissesfleisch]

A.D.I.D.A.T.S.

all day i dream about terry silver

[mxxnlightviolet]

tlt fandom is so fun i missed being involved in a fandom during Peak Fuckery