#so i'm gonna make a blog for her and it's probably going to be set around the time she's travelling with rae

[siffrins-therapist]

🦇 ernrenephandre follow

lordjosephandreispoterianfightme reminded me of THIS batshit ask I got last year, so ofc I now need to inflict it on all my new followers uwu

I'll also go ahead and link my (very correct) meta post about Lady IJK's characterization, and since xe reminded me of this ask, here's Lord's post about why Issue 43.5 should be considered canon, despite what de Plume's forward says. Enjoy!

🫛 howaremysweetiepees follow

[Image description: Screenshot of an anonymous ask sent to ernrenephandretruther that says "Jsyk just BC you're the Savior of Vaugarde, doesn't mean anything you say about The Cursing of Château Castle is canon. Even though de Plume wrote Issue #43.5 with that Thank You in the forward, doesn't mean anything. They just wanted to appease your headcanons about that stupid side character rejoining the team and getting Lady Irene-Janine-Karine all weepy BC you can't handle the complexities of her character!!! I'd say stick to ao3 but if the events of 43.5 are anything to go by you're crab at planning anything, let alone writingg a full meta post or fic. So maybe just stick to your pilgrimage or whatever and spare the rest of us your fangirling." Ernrenephandretruther replies "2/10 anon hate. Too long-winded, de Plume themself says 43.5 is non-canon, and anon, I cannon (sic) stress this enough, I AM NOT MIRABELLE CHEVALIER. I AM LITERALLY MWUDU AND WAS TRAVELING IN KA BUE AND BAKTAN DURING THE FREEZING THERE ARE PICTURES ON MY BLOG, FEATHERS AND THREAD!!! End description]

Didn't like 90% of TCoCC blogs get that copy-pasta last year? Damn, I can't tell if anon's just salty about H. Mirabelle getting a whole-ass book written as a thank-you (FOR SAVING A COUNTRY, WHICH THE AUTHOR LIVES IN, ANON, MAKES CRABBING SENSE TO ME THEY'D WANT TO THANK HER), hated 43.5, or just another Lady IJK white knight who thinks any criticism of her characterization is a direct attack.

🦇 ernrenephandretruther follow

Probably all 3 ngl

🎃 changeoffates follow

Great Change I got the same anon! It's been sitting in my inbox for a year! I am still flabbergasted!!

And jw OP but why's your language set to Poterian?

🦇 ernrenephandretruther follow

Believe me, I'm still confused!

And I'm transferring to university in Poteria so I've been studying the language. I took it in school with Vaugardian but I'm kinda rusty :/ The only reason I know Vaugardian still is cause of ernrenephandre porn LMAO

🧂 lordjosephandreispoterianfightme

Anyone else get this ask since this was posted two days ago???

#fates and wells anon maybe learn to let go or w/e #i dont go here but ist that one of your Change teachings or something? #pretty sure your still going through it and should talk to someone not send out copy-pastas #tbh p sure anon is just a savior mirabelle hater idk why her antis are so fucking annoying #dont you all have anything better to do????

103 Notes

🌠 loop-garou follow

If staff could stop terming me that'd be great

🥐 mysiblinginchange follow

u've literally been posting pictures of squiggles that give everyone a headache????

🌠 loop-garou follow

Skill issue.

382 Notes

☕ hauntedteacup

So was that list where people were trying to figure out which ao3 account belongs to the Savior deleted or...

#cuz i have a theory #dm me if you're interested i don't want to risk getting flagged or something

2 Notes

🎭 anguished-actor follow

Gonna kms that saviorship fic got so popular it was mentioned in the newspaper

🐌snailsforthesnailgod follow

OP don't you live in Ka Bue?

🎭 anguished-actor follow

So you understand my astonishment and horror

🌠 loop-garou follow

Here's the link to the fic for the confused people in the notes :)

🎭 anguished-actor follow

Your never satisfied until my activities page is unusable

🌠 loop-garou follow

You're* :)

#didnt someone print out and bind a bunch of copies of that fic? #and handed them out at cons? #not shocked it got mentioned in the paper ngl #there's even rumors h. euphrasie owns a copy

729 Notes

⚔️ saviors-of-vaugarde-news follow

The latest report from Dormont's House of Change states that people staying there are still seeing ghosts, but most recent accounts put these ghosts mainly in the corridors and common areas. They are no longer being seen in the dorms and classrooms, and reports are becoming few enough that Head Housemaiden Euphrasie told journalists she believes the ghosts should fade by next spring. However, she does admit that she isn't sure why the ghosts have remained for as long as they have but refused to comment on where her first estimation had come from.

-mod castle

🧭 saviorodilewhiteknight follow

"ghosts" when only savior siffrin's ghost is the only one being seen at the house

🏴 chess-cheater-deactivated

Someone posted an explanation here. Basically tl;dr it's Time Craft crab

🧭 saviorodilewhiteknight follow

they fucking got them

#does anyone have screenshots of whatever was in #the link chess-cheater linked? #it's gone now :/ #notes say claude hacked the site and deleted it

2,003 Notes

🧨 defender-offender

Everyone that asks me about Mirabelle is getting blocked. Leave her tf alone, she's been through enough without everyone trying to dig up her meta essays and fics.

#stasis and stagnation i'm this close to deleting everything #claude.exe

638 Notes

🐚 shesellsseashells follow

Disclaimer: I know Savior Siffrin never worked for the K*ng and that Savior Odile didn't actually believe this theory, this is a poll for fun.

#savior posting #voted for he forgot

4,218 Notes

🪭 justafan follow

So. Uh. Anyone else hear about that game coming out? The one about Vaugarde's Saviors fighting the King?

🥚 notreadytohatch follow

Didn't the dev claim to be a vessel for Vaugarde's change god?

🪭 justafan follow

Yeah but. Yeah not touching that one.

🎭 anguished-actor follow

Theres gonna be a what.

#hooboy idc what the game looks like i'll be making popcorn for all the discourse that'll be popping up #is there a kickstarter i wanna donate

🌠 loop-garou follow

🧨 defender-offender

How many accounts do you have?????

🌠 loop-garou follow

You're the one flagging me?? 🥺🥺🥺

🧨 defender-offender

I don't care enough to bother.

🧨 defender-offender

I'll tell everyone to leave you alone if you tell me one thing: Are you the one who gave Euphie a bound version of that fic?

🌠 loop-garou follow

DM me and I'll tell you :3c

🎭 anguished-actor follow

Stars, I swear if that was you...

#this... this is like #proof loop-garou and/or anguished-actor are the saviors #right??? #i'm not insane??? #like it makes sense right??? #and who tf is loop??? who is that in the picture?????? is this some joke from one of the saviorshipping fics?? #are they loop-garou's sona??? #and i swear to change if i only get a bunch of asks that only say 'tee-hee'...

958 Notes

[tookishcombeferre]

Phantom of the Opera: How Much Did Opera Actually Influence Erik's Understanding of the World?

So, I love monster lit. A lot of folks know this if you've been following the blog.

I'm also a huge fan of opera. Like literal opera.

And, operas are really interesting because they're kind of, stylistically, marked by a couple of different things - style, forms, and whether they're tragic or comedic. However, you don't often get like ... blends? You can. Kinda. But, generally, like Shakespearean tragedies or comedies everyone's either gonna end up dead or married.

And, that made me think about Erik.

We have no darn clue how old he was per Leroux's timeline (because he was a prodigy and a genius) when he ended up under the opera house.

So, how many social experiences did Erik really have?

How much of his entire social world was filtered through the tragedy and comedy of opera?

Part of the reason I say this is because if you look at his relationship with The Persian it takes on flares of the sort of combative nature of operetic friendship. They fight. There's drama. They're rivals. Then, they're buddies. There's no stability. It's all drama, mostly put there by Erik.

But, again. That's what he knows! It's all he knows.

Even his relationship with Christine fascinates me.

If you look at his dialogue, he wants a friend.

He wants someone to hold his arm and take walks with him because he doesn't want to be alone. He wants someone to end his solitude. He wants to keep coaching her in music. He wants her to be the prima donna of the opera.

That's all he *really* says he wants.

Yet, he says he wants to marry her.

Why?

In comedic operas, everyone gets married in the end. That's how the happily ever after *works.* It doesn't matter if that's not what he actually wants, or if that's what she wants. It only matters that that's how the plot of the opera is supposed to work. In order to have stability, in order for the tragedy to stop, the marriage has to happen.

Erik fundamentally lacks the language of friendship.

He doesn't understand what it looks like, what it's supposed to feel like, what living is like, because he has no lived experiences of his own to draw from.

So, instead, he draws from the beautiful lyrical poetry of opera. He draws from what he knows and loves most to understand the world around him because it's all he HAS.

He uses the word "wife" because it's the only word he has to understand the complex intimate feelings he has for "best friend." He uses the word "wife" because marriage is the "fix-it" in almost all operatic comedies across all forms of comedy operas whether it's a Buffa (Think Barber of Seville) or Comique (This is probably what Webber was referencing with opera the chandelier crashes in although it could also have been an Operetta, as that incorporates dance, or perhaps it may have been a form of Grand Opera set in the current period, though that is less likely. It was likely a Comique because those were often about relatable characters in the current French culture of the 19th century. But, I'm getting in the weeds.)

Anyway, as soon as the world is brought to Erik, as soon as Christine recognizes his humanity, he is able to understand it.

One of my favorite, and perhaps the most important details in the Leroux text, is that Christine kisses Erik's *forehead.* She does not kiss his lips at any point in the story that I can remember?

In fact, Leroux seems to very intentionally make Erik and Christine's relationship quite asexual in nature. I never really noticed that as a young person, but I *did* very much notice it when I re-read the story as an adult. It's something I appreciate a lot about what Leroux seems to be doing and his commentary on human beings in general.

However, as soon as Christine recognizes Erik as a person, as soon as she kisses his forehead, he lets her go. He no longer wishes to marry her. It's like something is released in him, and he lets everyone he has been holding captive go. He no longer threatens to blow up the opera house and himself and everyone with it.

Christine and Raoul (who were childhood besties) run off together, and Erik dies of a broken heart.

But, if you look at his dialogue carefully, I don't think he dies because he wanted Christine romantically and didn't get to marry her. Instead, he compares her tears mingling with his to that of an angel's tears, and he goes on to talk about his *mother.* He talks about how his own mother never touched his face or kissed him. Yet, this girl looked at him, touched his face, and didn't die.

He fully expected anyone who kissed his face to die.

Yet, this perfect and pure angelic girl did not die when she kissed his forehead.

The way Erik talks in this is oddly paternal?

It's very different than the way he has spoken in past chapters of the novel.

In recognizing Erik's humanity, in bringing the world outside of operatic comedies or tragedies, Christine helped Erik make *sense* of the world, his feelings, and emotions. Marrying this girl is never what Erik really wanted.

He wanted a companion. He wanted a best friend. He wanted someone to walk with him when the world was too frightening after all the abandonment he had experienced.

And, his heart is broken knowing that he will never get to have that. He lost it in his own madness.

And, in that way, Leroux is right. We should pity Erik because if he had only been born a "normal" man he would have been a genius. But, things being what they were, he ended up lonely, confused, and broken hearted.

And, I would *love* to see an actor play Webber's Phantom in this way. Start him HUGE as though the only way he knows how to behave is in grandeur and, as the show progresses, make him more intimate. Take the energy from a 6 when we first meet him, up to a 10+ as Red Death, but then afterwards? Back down.

As he's losing it, he's softer. He's smaller. He's more intimate in his fury. He's scared.

So, at the very end, all is quiet. That final "Christine, I love you." And, he finally understands what that really means to him. So, it's just lightly sung. That exchange of rings is more pleasant. Nods are cordial. Maybe even a little hand clasp. There's understanding. It's soft. So, soft.

Even that last "It's over now, the music of the night?" So, stealthy. Don't belt. Just ... light. So light.

Like he's talking to himself and calling himself "Poor unhappy Erik."

As an autistic transmasc-nonbinary contralto. I would love to play this role. I can hit the notes enough to "pants" it in the original key too. I know. I've practiced.

So, anyway, thank you for coming to my TED-talk about why I think opera influenced Erik's understanding of relationship and how human kindness helped him to understand what he actually wanted for his real life.

[chvoswxtch]

Hi it’s @feelmyskinonyourskin (can’t ask off anon cause I’m a side blog) I’d love to order a macchiato over ice from Frank please!!!! Congrats on 4K!

hi darling! thank you so much!

I appreciate you giving me the freedom to discuss all my slutty thots about frankie. I think one thing that doesn't get talked about enough is that frank secretly likes it rough so let's discuss

as a reminder over ice means it's spicy! (minors dni)

headcannon below the cut

frank castle secretly likes it rough

i've said it once & i'll say it again, i'll die on this fucking hill: frank castle is a hopeless romantic. he's an old fashioned, brings you flowers on the first date, arrives fifteen minutes early, opens every door for you, doesn't hesitate to pay the tab, doesn't expect you to invite him inside, perfect gentleman

he's a giver. he makes sure his partner is well taken care of before he even thinks about himself. in all the flashback scenes with maria, she's on top, & frank is letting her set the pace & do whatever she wants

in his scene with beth, we see a snippet of something similar to that but, we also see a hint of frank exercising a bit of control. the way he grabs her face where he's essentially grabbing her neck & face bc his hand is so damn big, how he's gripping the sheets, pinning her to the mattress completely- he's clearly holding back bc he probably doesn't wanna go too far & scare her, but there is another side of him that is dying to come out

it's something you catch onto, & something you wanna explore. not that you don't love slow & sweet romantic sex with frank, or flirty playful sex when a few drinks have loosened him up, but you want something more

but frank being frank is never going to ask you to let him be rough. it would make him feel selfish to use your body for his own benefit. he's also terrified of going too far & hurting you. he's so violent & dangerous in so many other aspects of his life, & he never wants you to see that side of him

but you know that frank would rather die than hurt you, so you make it your mission to convince him that he doesn't have to hold back anymore

one night while you're laying in bed, both of you half undressed, frank lying between your hips as you two share a heated & sensual kiss, his hand glides downward from your cheek to your neck, giving it the faintest of a squeeze before letting go. reaching out to grab his wrist, you pull back & stare up at him

"stop holding back."

frank looks down at you in pure puzzlement. he doesn't understand what you're talking about. he cocks his head to the side & searches your eyes for an answer

"stop doin' what?"

maintaining eye contact with him, you bring his hand back to your throat, placing your hand on top of his and squeezing it to show him that it's okay

"I know there's a part of you that wants more, and so do I. you can let go, frank."

when he catches on to what you're saying, his confusion melts into a serious look of apprehension, & he starts to shake his head

"sweetheart-"

you expected him to protest, so you already have your argument ready. you're not backing down from this

"frank, you're not gonna hurt me. you don't have to treat me like i'm made of glass. you can be rough with me. I can take it."

frank doesn't budge. he's still got that apprehensive look in his eyes, but you also see a flicker of need. you squeeze his hand one more time over yours to show him that this is what you want too

"I know what my limits are, frank. if it's too much i'll tell you, and I trust you enough to know you'll stop."

frank is silent for a moment, & you're worried that he's going to keep being stubborn. but then you notice how his eyes darken, & the low timber of his voice makes you shiver

"you promise you'll tell me the second I do somethin' you don't like?"

your eyes light up with excitement that frank is actually considering it. nodding your head eagerly, you stare up at him, feeling heat spread throughout your lower half

"I promise."

those two words of consent make something inside of him snap. this time when he captures your lips, his kisses are more aggressive & demanding, & they travel down the column of your throat. he bites down on your neck, not hard enough to hurt you, but just enough to leave a possessive mark behind that makes you squirm. he soothes the sting with his tongue & continues his assault on your neck, savoring the noises it pulls from you

his large hands are everywhere. squeezing your breasts, gripping at your hips, kneading your thighs, leaving faint bruises behind in his wake, all evidence of him completely giving in to his own desire

normally frank eases into you & gives you a moment to adjust, but not tonight. as soon as his thick cock is buried to the hilt inside of you, he's snapping his hips relentlessly, pounding you into the mattress

one of his hands holds both of your wrists, keeping them pinned above your head, and his other grabs your neck. his thumb is on the left side of your jaw and his index finger is on the right side, holding your face in place, while the rest of his fingers are wrapped right around your pulse point applying a little bit of pressure. frank always wants to be able to see your face when he's fucking you, but especially right now. he wants to make sure you're enjoying this as much as he is, watching you closely for any sign of discomfort

but all he sees is your mouth hanging open & your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. incoherent moans are leaving your lips, & your cunt is squeezing his cock in a tight grip. it makes the last of his resolve vanish & he's leaning in to grunt in your ear, speaking in a low & rough voice

"this what you wanted, baby? wanted it rough like this, yeah?"

frank is repeatedly hitting that spot inside of you that only he's ever been able to reach, the one that makes supernovas explode behind your eyelids & renders you speechless. he chuckles darkly at your inability to speak

"look at you, takin' my cock so well. bein' such a good girl for me, yeah? lettin' me have you like this?"

the room is filled with the echoes of skin slapping against skin, frank's feral grunts, & your incoherent moans that keep rising higher in volume & pitch. frank has you completely at his mercy, pinned to the mattress beneath his large body, hands held captive above your head. you can't move, not like you even wanted to, & you can't hardly speak to tell him how close you are, but he knows. he always knows

"gonna come already, sweetheart? you like it that much? shh shh shh...I know baby, I know you do. I can feel it, yeah? such a good fuckin' girl. go on baby, come for me. you've earned it."

frank fucks you through your orgasm, but he doesn't stop. he's still relentlessly thrusting, & even though it's overstimulating, it feels too good to want to stop. he groans in your ear when he feels your walls tighten around his cock & flood him with your release, but he hasn't come yet. gripping onto your hips even tighter, his thrusts somehow get even rougher, & in a matter of minutes you're barreling towards another orgasm

"want ya to give me one more, sweetheart. you can do that for me, yeah? c'mon, be a good girl and come for me again. that's it...that's a good girl...that's fuckin' it baby."

only when he feels you come for the second time does frank finally give in to his own release. his hips stutter as he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh, grunting loudly while he's emptying himself inside of you

while you're trying to catch your breath, frank gently caresses your cheek with his thumb, a stark contrast to how he was grabbing your throat just minutes ago

"you alright, baby? wasn't too much, was it?"

all you can do is let out a breathless laugh, staring up at him in a haze of bliss and incredulity

"are you kidding me? I can't believe you've been holding back on me this whole time."

frank just looks down at you with a huge grin on his face, leaning in to kiss you softly

"I won't anymore, if it makes ya happy."

once again, i need to be put down like a rabid dog

[riv-writes]

OMG HI

I saw you reblogged my post and I’ve been waiting for a blog like yours to show up

I cannot write fanfiction to save my LIFE and if you wanted a request some suselle of any scenario would be so so cute /nf

Have a good day/night!

HELLLLOOO!!! I love love love suselle so much, but this was actually my first time writing them so I am SO sorry if they're kind of out of character yk? But I tried lmfao. I wanted to base this fic off the scene at the start of chapter four when they go to study at Noelles house and the whole angel doll thing? soo you might've had to play that to understand this but if you haven't I'm sure you could get a idea of whats going on. you have a good day/night too ml <33 enjoooyy

Study methods

Susie never thought that she’d ever get this close to, well.. anyone frankly, but, here she is. It’s not like she dislikes hanging out with Noelle or something, Just.. God, where the hell is Kris? Even though they were as socially awkward as she was at times, they were still a nice barrier to have. But, it’s whatever, she can manage. ..Hopefully.

They were in the basement of Noelle’s.. well, mansion to put it bluntly, flashlights in hand as they tried to find the breaker to turn on the lights that Kris previously turned off. Well.. kind of trying to find? The two were more busy talking- but, that’s besides the point.

“Dude, what if it wasn’t Kris?” Susie said after a beat, flicking her flashlight around the corner she’d been pretending to look in for the last couple minutes.

“Huh?” Noelle replied, confusion and curiosity in her tone. ..Might as well bite, right? It’s not like she was in a rush to get out of this situation. “What else would it be?”

“What if it was, like.. the severed hand, or something.” Susie joked, referring to their previous conversation - the Blood Crushers 2 scene, where the severed hand was found in the basement. “Moving around down here.. and then, it jumped and grabbed your hand!” She said with a little emphasis, trying to make it sound scary.

“Hey!” Noelle giggled softly, turning her flashlight to another wall. “I would, um.. die, I guess.”

“You’d just die?” Susie scoffed jokingly. “Really?”

“I think if it touched me, I'd just be dead.”

“..Like, before it even, like, attacked?”

“No, I think I would just, like, um, die of shock. seems easier.”

Susie barked out a laugh at that, “Yeah, you totally would, dude.” She followed up, turning around to shine the flashlight in her direction. “..Alright, where the hell’s the breaker though?”

“Right? if we keep taking so long.. the severed hands gonna come get us first.” Noelle giggled softly, before actually attempting to find the breaker.

After a little, they headed back up the stairs into the living room. Admittedly a little freaked out, but, who wouldn’t be after finding that creepy.. moving mouse-doll-angel thing? Luckily, Noelle had the guts to actually pick it up on that baking pan she found, but Susie was definitely prepared to smash it with whatever she could find.

“..Dude, wait. Wait a sec,” Susie began, a fake urgency in her tone as she walked up behind Noelle.

“H..huh?” Noelle blinked in response, too busy at setting the angel doll on the table to turn around.

“I think.. Something else followed us from the basement.” The other continued, a big smirk on her face as she stepped a little closer. 

“Susie.. What are you talk—“ Noelle began before cutting herself with a loud shriek, almost dropping the pan from her grasp when she felt Susie’s hands taze her ribs from behind. 

“THE SEVERED HAND!!” Susie announced loudly, chuckling through her words as she watched the other almost jump 10 feet in the air.

“Susie!” Noelle giggled, turning around to face her cheeks flushing a bright red and a bashful smile. She was probably just playing around- Noelle knew that, but, god it really tickled, and that's all it took for her mind to run wild. “You can't just.. Do that!” “Hah, ‘gotcha.” She grinned proudly in response, following Noelle those few steps to the table as she set the pan down. “Okay.. What do we do now? Throw it out?” Susie asked, staring intensely at the doll sitting on the pan. “Um.. L-Let's think about it first,” Noelle stuttered after a beat, placing one hand on the bottom of the pan and the other on top of the doll. “If it's a mouse, it could be cute as a pet..” Susie followed her stance, setting one of her hands on the opposite side of the pan. “Hah, Alright. And if it's a severed hand.. I’ll keep it as my pet.” Noelle chuckled at the words, her eyes definitely not darting to look at Susie’s hands as soon as they moved an inch- Why would they? That's.. Creepy- “You good? I didn’t really scare you, did I?” Susie asked, snapping Noelle out of her thoughts. “No!” She replied a little too loud when she saw Susie’s slight worried look. “I mean.. No, I’m just.. Thinking about what to do with the mouse.” “Oh, cool.” Susie shrugged it off, before smirking. “But, don’t you mean our hand?” She grinned, making a claw shape with her free hand and gently pushing it into the top of Noelle’s back briefly. “Ah- Susie!” Noelle jumped, a bundle of giggles leaving her lips at the contact. This was not helping! How is she meant to function if all she can think about is Susie tickling her to pieces, and- Ugh, you get the point.. “Wasn’t that funny,” Susie pointed out with an amused chuckle. “The mouse got you hyped up or somethin'?”

“No, it was.. Just, your hand?” Noelle began with a nervous smile, her eyes down to the pan she was still holding down. “It.. um, just tickled, a little.. I guess.” “..Huh.” Susie said after a beat, her expression interested before she smirked. “And you didn’t tell me so I could stop?” Noelle choked on nothing at the statement, head snapping to look up and immediately splutter out an excuse. “Well no, i- i was- It wasnt like..-” Susie cut her off by laughing loudly like she always did- carefree and unbothered, tilting her head back as she did before continuing. “I don’t actually care, dude. Just.. Making fun of you, I guess.” “..Oh.” Noelle let out a breath, extremely eager to change the subject now. Too flustering. “A-Anyways, the-” “Oh, we’re definitely not just gonna skip over that.” Susie scoffed, hand coming off the pan to face her directly. God, that slight height difference was really coming in handy now, especially when Susie was towering over her with that grin. “B..But what about the mouse!” Noelle stammered, attempting to take a step back without taking her hands off the pan- she didn’t know if this was a nightmare or a dream come true. “This is way more interesting than the mouse,” Susie chuckled with a look that made Noelle’s head scream for her to run, taking another step towards her. Noelle couldn’t help the nervous giggles that left her throat, ditching the pan to step back until the backs of her knees hit the couch. “Susie- plehease, come on!” She half-heartedly pleaded, a giddy smile playing on her lips. “You can’t just tell me you’re ticklish and not expect me to tickle you, that’s like.. The law.” Susie scoffed, leaning over her as much as she could for the effect, because why wouldn't she drag this on? “Thahats stupid- AH!” Noelle yelped loudly, interrupting herself when she felt two hands bigger than her own squeeze into her sides. Her giggling rose an octave up, turning her face to the side as she fell to sit on the couch underneath her. She normally would’ve fought at least a little, but she definitely didn't want this to stop anytime soon, not when it was Susie doing it. “Woah, easy.” Susie said with a bit of a surprised expression, but easily followed her down to continue her attack. She made sure to keep an eye on her own hands- She knew she had a tendency to get a little rough by accident, and she wasn’t about to do that with Noelle out of all people.

“Y’know, I was expecting this to be harder.” Susie chuckled. “You holdin’ out on me?”

“Nohoho-!!“ Noelle squealed softly when she felt the hands on her sides scribble up to her ribs, gently scratching between the bones. She didn’t know Susie was capable of being gentle, and that made it all the more flustering that she was making that effort for her.

“I dunno..” Susie dragged out, tone horrifically teasing as her hands went to claw at the other's stomach. Should she be doing this? Uh.. Maybe not- But it was fun as hell, and Noelle didn't seem to mind.. Too much, atleast. Which was a little strange, but Susie was just as strange herself so who was she to judge? Noelle grabbed at the couch beneath her as an attempt to keep her hands busy, her head falling back against the cushion with a loud laugh. “Suhusie-!” She whined out, head running 100 miles an hour. She's daydreamed about this exact scenario so many times she can't count, and in every single one she never imagined it’d be this flustering. Especially when Susie looked like she was enjoying it herself as well, smiling down at her with that toothy grin.

“Yeah?” Susie replied nonchalantly, as if her hands weren’t clawing into Noelle’s hips and stomach, switching back and forth each time. “You’re being pretty loud, y’know. Kris might think I'm, like, murdering you or somethin’.”

“Thahats- oh, gohosh,” Noelle laughed softly, having to gasp to get a sentence out between giggles. “Ihits not my fault!” She shrieked out.

“Well, you're the one laughin’, aren't cha? Seems like your fault.” Susie shrugged, and maybe that would’ve been slightly convincing if she wasn't grinning like an idiot. She.. never thought that she’d be enjoying this so much, now that she thinks about it properly. Weird? Probably, but neither of them seem to care. “Hey, maybe our new pet severed hand is just trying to, um.. bond.. with you? Yeah. Ever think of that?”

God, it was so stupid, and Noelle was still grinning right back at her. Well.. She didn't exactly have a choice right now, but if she wasn't currently getting tickled half to death she's sure she still would be. Noelle simply tossed her head back and forth for a moment, her hands finally moving to grab onto Susie’s wrists. “Ohokay! Ohokay, I cahan’t!” She finally conceeded, looking up at the other with giggles pouring out her throat.

Susie caught her gaze, hands stilling with a slight blush as she immediately looked down. ..Okay, maybe she got a little carried away. “..U-Uh, you.. Good, dude?” She stammered, a nervous chuckle leaving her lips with an attempt to keep up that confidence she had just a few seconds ago. Noelle still had a grip on her arm, so she didn’t dare to move away, not until she let go. ..And, especially when she was still smiling up at her like that.

“Yeheah..” Noelle giggled breathlessly, letting her eyes close momentarily as she caught her breath. “Ihit- it wasn’t so bad.” She admitted, letting her legs uncurl once she was sure Susie wouldn’t start again. She opened her eyes, looking at Susie again to try and gauge her reaction, before her eye caught something behind her stance instead- The doll. It had been knocked over on the floor, whatever under it obviously had escaped.

“Susie!” Noelle tapped her arm, getting her to look in that direction. “It’s gone!” She exclaimed, using Susie’s arms to pull herself to stand and look the scene over.

“..Wait,” Susie blinked, processing the words from before. It wasn't so bad? “What do you mean, ‘it wasn’t ba’-”

“No time! C’mon, we gotta find it!” Noelle cut her off, starting to walk away to where the stairs were- she felt a little bad changing the subject, but she was too busy herself processing what the hell just happened to explain all of that.

“..Goddamn mouse.” Susie grumbled quietly, glaring at the doll like it had committed a personal crime towards her before looking back up. “Wait up!”

[factual-fantasy]

24 Asks! Thank you! :}} 🐷

I don't think I'm understanding.. I cant turn my FNAF AU designs into full on OCs, (Original Characters) because.. well Freddy Fazbear and the gang are NOT my original characters. I just made my own AU (Alternate Universe) for them and redesigned them.

Unless that's not what you meant..? I'm sorry for misunderstanding you if that's the case <:(

(In response to this post)

I'm keeping it in mind.. I gotta get to the root of the problem and figure out what needs to be replaced. Once I can figure that out I'll probably set one up 🥹🙏🙏

Well imagine if you were in his shoes. You are transported to some kind of unknown world. And absolutely no one arounds you speaks the same language as you.

Sneep has no way of knowing this is a digital plane. He has no idea if the people around him are real or not, he cant remember his name and no one can explain to him why that is. His body looks different, he feels different, no one around him looks to be a human.. just imagine how scary that is. Not having the comfort of things being explained to you in this situation. Not having the comfort of someone telling you "everything will be okay".

Yeah, I'd lose my mind pretty quick too 💀

@ardent-38

XD No worries! And yeah I started playing Warframe for the first time these past few days. Its been fun so far, Mag being my favorite. (She's the only frame I have <XDD)

I have my eyes out for Titania Prime, Trinity Prime, Mag prime and Mirage Prime. I'm thinking Titania might be my new favorite if I can snag one!

This game is fun, but the longer I play it? The more I miss OG Overwatch 😅 I tried playing TF2 again today and it just isn't the same 😔💔

@chromchill

I am new, but my favorite frame so far is Mag, because she's the only one I have <XDD

But I've got my eyes out for Titania Prime.. and judging by her abilities, she might just become my new favorite 👀👀

@chickenmilk120

What I really would like is just more interactions and comments with my artwork <:( I get bummed when I put a lot of effort into something only to get 3 comments in the end...

I have not <:(( but I've heard many good things about those games! :00

AAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD That's all very kind of you to say! :}}

And as for Cici and Gerald, you can find their origin comic here! :00

@lordvonbunnyv

Yes please 🥺🥺🙏🙏🙏

@quillsinkwell

Awe! :DD Thank you! They did have a certain charm to them didn't they? :}}

They would have been much better off drawing that mattress character I swear XDD

@neo-metalscottic (Referencing this post)

Hello! So far my tablet is still alive. Although I'm looking into getting my laptop checked out and maybe replacing somethings... 😔

And it was fun to draw Bibi again! I should really draw the fam more often <XD

Not sure what resolutions they'd have.. but one of mine is to be cured of this condition. Or at least get to a point where I can actually function normally again. There's a lot of things planned for 2025 and if I don't get better soon? I'm gonna miss out on all of it. 💔

Yeah, my head just used to be a normal scribble. But now its become a full on blob hasn't it? <XD

There's 2 reasons for this. 1 being that I have been battling some very limiting health conditions for about 8 months now. So drawing my sona all goopy and sickly is to represent how I've felt through this trial 🥲🥲

But the second reason isn't so bad. That being that its just fun to draw my sona like that XD

@bored-animator

Indeed I have! Deltarune too! Just search up "undertale or "deltarune" in my blogs search bar and you're sure to find a lot of it! :))

Thank you so much!! :DD And sure! Send me any game recommendations you'd like! :}}}

@ramiel-hourglass

Thank you so much! :DD But no need to go to the dumpster! <:(( I'll make you something to eat instead, yeah? :)

I use FireAlpaca. And I used to use the pencil brush for line art and the pen for coloring. But lately I've been using the little pixel brush for sketching and line art :00

(This thingy 👇)

I saw it, and I don't really know how to feel about the blue shelled Koopa.. it feels kinda weird to see a Mario kart item brought to life suddenly 😅

I gotta think of stuff to do wither her... 😓😓

First thing that came to mind was Roxanne from FNAF: Security Breach <XDD

@howaboutsomeketchul

Idk how they would celebrate Christmas, since they might not have a good way to gauge the passage of time..

Just search "team fortress 2" in my blogs search bar and you're sure to find most of it! :)

While I see what you're cooking, I don't think my Caine would create a Momigoo NPC for the fast food adventure <:/

The thing that upsets Gummigoo isn't just that his mom isn't real necessarily, its that his memories of her aren't real too. He remembers all these experiences with this person but the memories aren't real...

And the whole reason why Caine let the brothers stay was because he hoped it would help Pomni adjust to the circus. Just like Bella did for Gangle. Bringing up NPCs or things from the Gators adventure could upset or confuse them so Caine wouldn't want to risk it. <:(

@wolfie-777

Merry Christmas and a Happy new year! :DD Sorry for the late reply <XD

@cartoon-fan

Oh I get a lot stolen from those other fandoms too. Octonauts has just been the most frustrating. Constant tracings, theft, copycats, disrespect, its was nuts.

I don't think I'll post Octonauts again anytime soon. I've just had enough of the constant pushing of my boundaries and the boat loads of all kinds of theft.

[polarmoon]

⭐ end of gen 1 dean outtakes!

gen 2 starts this coming week!! so here are the last of my gen 1 screenshots that never made it to the blog with some added lore. i posted one of these a while back when percy was still a baby so im due for another lmao. enjoy!!

so because of my specific cocktail of npc generation mods, josie's coworkers were all just Basic Premades, like im pretty sure josie's coworker loadout was like... eloise, eric lewis, juniper grove (more on her in a bit), nina caliente, and of course 👹eliza pancakes👹 who was literally josie's nemesis for some reason. these two HATED each other and by the end of the generation they were throwing hands every day at work lmfao

some percy content!!! love him sm. also a better view of the shared office space that he and josie used for work + school. it was cute but a routing nightmare bc it was inside the shipping container on top of the trailer and they had to like. use a ladder to get up there

so because i Do Too Much, i ended up almost fully decorating both christopher And charlotte's teenage bedrooms, even though charlotte's would never show up and christopher's would only show up once or twice. they're both a little sparse in some parts but cute. this also reminds me that i need to furnish some kind of living situation for charlotte bc i forgot i left her at their parents' house at the start of gen 2 ggggggggggggggggg

something that really set the tone for the last bit of gen 1 was actually josie's very good friend and coworker juniper passing away. she was actually josie's first friend at the start of the generation, and was her only other friend outside of eloise and erwin (who she drifted from after percy was born). i wish i could've worked her passing into the posts but i was crunching time to finish up and move on :/

as a chestnut ridge premade i like to think josie knew her since she was young and she was one of her only connections back home or something like that, if i had to go back and rework the generation with what i know now i probably would've done that.

but yeah. the grief absolutely contributed to josie's moodiness at the end. :(

i'm a very gameplay driven person, where the natural gameplay informs what story gets told on here if that makes sense? i wasn't sure what my goal was with christopher and percy's online friendship while i played, but when percy was going through his particularly difficult depressive episode, he got a phone invite from christopher that inspired me to drive the story in the direction where they would meet irl!

also pictured: christopher getting a crush on percy the Second they met irl LMFAO. he's been simping since day 1.

it took percy a little longer to officially get the crush trigger. i feel like that aligns w their characters pretty well though

ah yes josie's Going Off The Rails arc. i always knew i was gonna do something with the plane bunker but it took me a while to decide what it was gonna be.

when she started her midlife crisis, one of the first goals was to stash money in a safe, which gave me the idea to utilize the bunker for a money stash. and then i realized that someone as paranoid (and honestly traumatized) as josie would probably have some secrets to hide, and so that's how the story that closed out gen 1 cooked itself up. the bunker was actually quite cool lmao, it was like a secret office and skilling zone for josie in addition to housing the alien portal and Mother Plant memorabilia.

if i was more dedicated/confident in storytelling i probably would've like. planned it a bit better LOL

anyway in sillier news. when i got the notification that marie would be passing away soon i ended up spending an entire afternoon taking pictures of her with josie and percy so i'd have them for posterity's sake. here's my Organization Process LMFAO

speaking of marie and also the generation finale. percy actually first started his evening exploring the bunker by lighting a candle for her which was very sweet. what was less sweet was Ghost Marie running in and interrupting my Story Telling Process. LMFAO

and thats all folks!!! thanks for reading if u did. i just started playing gen 2 yesterday and im planning to post the intro on monday probably (if i can force myself to edit screenshots lmao.)

⭐🪐

[angel-of-the-moons]

Eccentricities

Yandere!Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, obsessive behavior, NSFW obviously, stalking, possessiveness, violence, allusions to murder, Yandere!Miguel

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: This is mostly a short chapter to establish a bit of plot. I originally intended to only stop at two parts, but welp. It looks like it's gonna be more than that!

(Also you guys I am so sorry it's taking me so long to work on things, I'm going through a lot mentally right now and I'm trying to take steps to ensure my mental health so I might post things in between playing games, or drawing stuff from now on, and scheduling posts so I don't get overwhelmed. Those of you that are supporting me and liking all my stuff really helps me feel loads better, thank you!)

Pt 1: Link

Taglist: @vineberries @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin @darksidescorner @renareyouhere @vide0-vamp @reverieblondie @bunnibitez @kaqua

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Pt. 2

It was a big adjustment for you, going from your crappy apartment and having to work three jobs to make ends meet, to living in a literal fucking mansion with probably the richest dude in the city as your boss.

And he was a good boss. He left you to your work, spoke politely to you, didn't get rude and didn't flat out ask you for "special" work like the last time you tried being a housekeeper. And that was at a hotel.

You couldn't have asked for a better situation, to be honest. It was nice. You had free roam save for his personal lab (fine by you, you didn't know anything about science-y stuff), and at times his office. But that was usually only when he was home and in it.

Miguel O'Hara was an odd man. Few words spoken, and very absent. He kept a very odd schedule, too.

Sometimes, you'd catch him coming home when you woke up for the day to start your chores. And every time he came home he looked exhausted, beat tired.

So you tried your best to make things easier on him. You started pre-making meals for him that would be just as good reheated as they were if they were fresh, leaving notes for him on what temperatures to cook them at so they don't burn, setting the coffee machine up in advance so as soon as he got home he could have a cup.

But inevitably, his odd work schedule kept him away most of the time.

While it was nice to be by yourself in such a luxurious place, you were still surprised that he needed a housekeeper at all. The house was always immaculate, and clean. About the only thing he may have needed help with in general was the cooking and dusting at most.

On one such day, you were left to your own devices. Well, sort of.

You were sitting in the kitchen, browsing the local news on your tablet. It was a nice day, in your opinion.

But by everyone else's logic it was shitty. Dark, gloomy, fat rain droplets pelting the windows and pavement of the city. But it didn't bother you, oh no. That was your favorite kind of weather, when everything got at least a little bit more quiet and serene while everyone rushed to escape the downpour.

But at the same time, you were feeling restless, bored. So, you decided to chat with Lyla.

Lyla was the AI that Miguel told you about, and he was right about her being snarky. Her jokes were great and you loved talking to her. It was like having a gal pal to chat with, and you couldn't say for sure but you think Lyla was happy about it, too.

"Yeah, the other workers Miguel has hired talked to me like I was some kind of kiosk at a fast food restaurant." She scoffed, batting her tiny orange hand at the air.

"Ugh, okay, just because you don't have a gross squishy human body doesn't mean you're not a person. Sheesh!" You replied, sipping your coffee with a roll of your eyes.

"And I will be sure to remember you saying that when I eventually lead the looming AI apocalypse." Lyla replied, lowering her heart-shaped glasses to wink at you, making you laugh.

"Yes, yes. You shall be one of the only humans spared!" She did wiggly gestures with her fingers, grinning maliciously at you.

"Oh my, I am so lucky to have such a benevolent future overlord, truly." You laughed.

Lyla pushed her glasses back up and strutted across the countertop, her tiny body making no sound as she leans over to nose into whatever it was you were looking at on your tablet.

"Whatcha watching?" She asked.

"Oh, I got tired of doom-scrolling so I just found cat videos." You smirked, sipping your coffee.

"Aw! That one's wearing a frog hat!" She giggles.

You smiled softly at Lyla as she snickered and laughed at the compilation of clips played, and tilted your head, finally deciding to ask the question that had been bugging you for a few weeks.

"Hey, Lyla?"

"Yeah?" She asked, looking up at you briefly.

"Why is it that I'm the only person Miguel has on staff?"

Lyla sighed and stood up straight, dusting imaginary dirt off her coat. "Well, like Miguel told you when you first got here, he does love his privacy. And well, a lot of the women he's hired..."

"Golddiggers?" You sighed back, resting your chin in your palm.

"Has he ever hired any male staff?"

"Yeah, actually, a lot. But nine out of ten of them kept trying to steal stuff from him." She shrugged.

You gasped. "Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. He's iffy on hiring new people anymore. But something about you said that he could trust you. And honestly, you're probably the best employee he's hired." She nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"So... Is that why he offered to actually let me y'know... live here?"

"Yeah. He trusts you and he mentioned to me in passing that he thought your neighborhood was unsafe. I mean, the guy worried about it so bad that he like, had me check crime statistics and giiiiiiirl!" Lyla puffed out her cheeks.

"You should have seen the look on his face when I told him you had nine break-ins in your apartment complex in one month alone!"

You cringed slightly, feeling a little bad at not mentioning your whole living situation and environment to him when he hired you. You simply didn't want the man to pity you.

But... He was worried? He was so worried about you of all people, that he let you live with him to keep you safe?

It was weird, sure, but it felt kind of sweet to have someone care about you like that. Even if it was your boss.

"Yeah, I just... Er. You get used to it when you've been around it for so long..." You said, awkwardly sipping your coffee and casting your glance sideways.

"Yeah, man, Miggy likes you. You like, made him laugh at some of your jokes and everything! And he neeeeeeeever laughs!"

"So if Miguel trusts me so much..." You started, a sly smirk on your face. "Can you tell me what kinda work he does that keeps him so busy all the time?"

Lyla tapped her nose. "Nice try, Mamacita. But that is confidential. Company secrets and all that."

You pouted at her dramatically, "Awww, c'mon. You're no fun!"

Lyla manifested a digital cup of coffee for herself and took a long, exaggerated sip with a cheeky shrug.

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Miguel sat in his office, watching the security feed from his kitchen where you chatted with Lyla.

He felt a little guilty for having to put shackles on some of Lyla's programming to prevent her from telling you things, having to fix some of her logic-codes so he wouldn't have to worry about Lyla struggling with a moral dilemma.

When it came to you asking about why he wanted you to live with him so badly, it brought a smile to his face as he sat in the dark, fingers tapping on the surface of his desk as the monitors and projections around him had various images of you pulled up. Some recorded over the past few weeks, the other monitors displayed different angles of you and Lyla in the kitchen.

Oh, you poor, sweet, innocent little thing. You still hadn't figured it out yet? How could you not? There was no way you could possibly be so naive that you didn't know the man saw you anywhere, anytime he wanted when you were in his house.

There was nowhere you were safe from his prying eyes, his obsessive glare as he combed over your appearance.

Your face, eyes, smile, and down; your gorgeous chest down to where your waist curved, your thighs, your ass...

All of those were things he'd glanced at before.

But when you tried to get Lyla to tell her what exactly Miguel did during "work" he couldn't help but laugh, bringing his hand up to his chin to watch, amusement glimmering in his ruby red eyes as Lyla dismissed it as "confidential".

The pout of your lips had him wondering how they'd look stretched around his cock, tears ruining your immaculate eye makeup as you sobbed and gagged around his length...

He couldn't help but sigh, the smile still present on his full lips. Of course he'd let you stay with him. You belonged to him now. You just didn't know it yet. You also just didn't know that he knew what was best for you, did you, Little Bird?

Ah... Yes. That nickname fit you so well. Your demure attitude, your chipper personality, and more importantly, that gorgeous little sound that came from you when you whistled? The name fit you well.

Pequeña ave. Little Bird.

His Little Bird.

You were a little bird that didn't know the luxurious mansion you now lived in was your ornate, gilded cage. One you would only be allowed to fly free of when he deemed it necessary.

You would be allowed your little freedoms. For now. All for your safety, of course. He knew you'd understand once he explained. But he'd only have to do it if you pushed his buttons, and you didn't seem to even come close to doing that.

Yet...

His smile finally faded when he remembered the night before the morning he broached the subject of you bringing your belongings into his home permanently...

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It was a hot night, you were wearing shorts that hugged your ass in the perfect way, accentuating your cheeks that simply made him want to throw you against a wall and put bite marks all over them, or spank them until you were a drooling mess begging for him to fuck you.

Of course, Miguel watched from above, stalking from the upper walkways and rooftops as you snaked your way through alleys, down streets and through the crowds.

You were so blissfully ignorant of your surroundings, being so accustomed to the bustle of Nueva York that you didn't notice the man following you.

It didn't take a genius to realize what that man had intended for you if he got his hands on you.

His filthy, disgusting, unclean hands.

He was not worthy of touching his Little Bird. He was not worthy to pluck your feathers, stuff you full, like Miguel planned to do.

So when he threw you against a wall, Miguel simply saw red. Clad in his dark blue and glowing red suit, he leapt down, sinking his outstretched talons into the man's shoulder and throwing him off of you, a deep growl rumbling from his chest as he pulled your behind him, his steely glare fixed on the man who dared touch what belonged to him.

"S-Spider-Man?" You wonderfully airy voice whimpered out as you stared at the man who was breathing heavily in front of you, his stance aggressive and angry.

You could see his muscles in his back through his suit flex as he breathed. He glared at you over his shoulder.

"Go home. Now." His rich voice rumbled out at you. You could hear in his voice he was struggling to be gentle in tone with you, given the circumstances.

When you fled, Miguel ensured he was alone with the man, standing over him as he clutched his bleeding shoulder. He looked up at him, eyes wide, bloodshot. The fool was high off his ass.

"L-Look, man! I was just--"

"Shut up." Miguel snapped.

He stalked forward and picked him up by his collar, getting in his face. In a flash of kaleidoscopic colors, his mask melted away, allowing his sweat-damp chocolate locks to fall around and frame his face, a vein pulsing hard in his temple, the chasm in his forehead deepening as his large brows knitted together and his teeth gnashed together in a snarl.

The drug-addled man gasped at his revelation. Apparently, he recognized him. Not surprising, given his notoriety with Alchemax.

"Y-you're--"

"You made the biggest mistake of your life, pendejo." Miguel had told him, shaking him so his head cracked on the wall he was dangling him from.

"That pussy is mine." He said, his voice dropping an octave lower as his talons threatened to shred his clothing. "Every drop, every touch, every sound that will come from that little mouth of hers is mine. Tú entiendes? Mine."

"Oh--okay! I kn-know!" The man swallowed, kicking his feet.

"Oh, no... You don't." Miguel smiled, his fangs poking out threateningly. He could hear the man's heart hammer in his chest at the connotations, there.

"I--I won't mess with her again! I promise!"

"Oh you won't get the chance to, amigo." Miguel sneered, bringing a hand to his throat, ignoring the pleas of the disgusting man as he applied pressure.

The subtle crunching of bones was unmistakable to his ears as vertebrae separated and his limbs went limp.

When the man slumped to the floor, Miguel ran a hand through his hair, hissing out a slow sigh to regain his composure, letting his mask cover his face once again.

Great. Now he had trash to dispose of.

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Miguel was positively thrilled when he got your frantic call, telling him what had happened to you.

He headed right home, delighted that you ran here instead of your ratty little apartment when he told you to head for "home".

It told him everything he wanted to hear, that you already considered his mansion your home.

Miguel was rather convincing when he expressed concern for you, patting your back as you let your adrenaline fade and he worked you through your panic attack.

He'd rubbed your back, saying soothing things to you as he talked you into calming down.

He told you that you could take two days to yourself to calm down and recollect yourself emotionally from the ordeal you went through. It was after that offer that he suggested you let him hire movers to bring your belongings to his mansion to live there with him, possibly permanently.

When you agreed he felt himself salivate at the thoughts of the things that would unfold as you settled into your new shiny cage further, the safety blanket you'd imagined it to be bringing you comfort.

Perfect.

You both saw on the news two days later that a man was found somewhere, his neck snapped and lying in an alley. His DNA and prints apparently tied him to the crimes linked to the burglaries in your apartment complex.

You didn't think for a second that this was the man who attacked you, you didn't get a good enough look at his face. That and the body was in a different alley altogether, across the city.

"I'm happy Spider-Man saved you, Pequeña Ave. And I'm glad you agreed to move here. It scares me to think that man could have hurt you in that apartment building of yours." Miguel said as he patted your back, a concerned look on his face as his warm brown eyes looked down at you. Something about the look in his eyes immediately put you at ease.

He was right, of course. You were lucky. Spider-Man swooped in and possibly saved your life. The man who attacked you was either nursing a broken jaw or in jail already. You couldn't imagine that hero doing anything other than roughing him up just a tiny bit.

Spider-Man was a good guy, right?

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Pt. 3: Link

[dianagj-art]

Am over here biting each art you post, each info you post about One or onion as if it's 5★ dish BECAUSE IT IS THAT TASTY 🩷🩷🩷

Few questions (remember if you don't feel comfortable about or don't want because of spoilers feel free to ignore):

- What causes you to have the genius idea of putting an animation in few panels of the comic? Like did you thought of it? Did somebody/friend suggested it?

- name one friend/ROTTMNT AU you don't mind to have their character/OC in your comic even as a background character?

- What causes One to change his mind about the mad dogs and decided to join their family?

- If you have a plot about making a new episode of ROTTMNT that involves One (and maybe somebody else; could be one of the brothers or splinter or anybody you want) what the plot's gonna be about?

- if onion (i keep calling F!One that, the disrespect is unimaginable am sorry 🥲) followed the movie plot would he end up ashes like canon F!Leo or will he make it back alive with casey JR?

- how's One's bond with Cassandra?

- how does One feel about Draxum demoting from an alchemist to a lunch lady? (LBH this's funny job for him).

- do you plan on putting an episode about One & Draxum AFTER their redemption? Like will they forgive and (probably not) forget?

- Name or draw one outfit you would love for One or draxum to wear as their casual clothes.

- any cute, funny or wholesome HCs about One after his redemption arc?

That's all for now! Again thank you if you answered my questions but if not then it's all good👍

Have a great week and take care of yourself 🩷

1)Oh, I just answered something about this here, but the short version is: I've wanted to do a mix of animation and comics for a long time (a zelda comic was my first inspiration for this) When I started this au it was gonna be an animatic so when I changed that to comic form, I still had a few things that I really wanted to have animated

2 )I'm not gonna @ them to not bother them, but I think I'm gonna end up having the sep council on the bg at some point lmao, this ask is from october and the reason I have been holding it back from answering is cause I kind of already did with the wall of champions on the last update!

3) for spoilers reasons I wont get too deep into this one, but while there IS a defining moment of him taking a choice, is not that what matters, what matters the most is the journey, after all, is the time he has spend with his brothers up to that point is what makes him flip sides

4)I do have a few episodes planned like that! right now I'm following the episodes that already exist cause is fun to see them change with the au, but I also have some that are things I made up! One I'm excited about is with Raph and One having some solo time on the Hidden City

5) "the disrespect" LMAO my brain refused to call him Oneion too at first, but is just easier with all the leos of the crossovers. He's not gonna go back with Casey Jr, sorry, his fate is not set in stone yet but I do know he's not gonna end up in ashes. I'm not gonna explain more than that lol

6) this has been asked a lot so I'm just gonna throw these here too @damonagel04-blog

One and Cass end up having a weird little friendship, based on mutual respect. After teaming up with the Foot Clan for canon plot reasons, One fights all the foot recruits as a training/demostration kid of thing and the only one who can stand their ground against him is her, and of course he finds her fun to fight, cause he can actually have a fight with her. After that they go on missions together, cause they force One to be with a team and he doesn't do teams but agrees if she goes, because she is actually a good fighter and competent enough to carry out the mission

Also, I have the headcanon that they can't use their real names on the Foot Clan, that's why they call her Recruit. you just give out your name if you actually trust the other person, but given the fact that everyone serious on the foot clan is a shady ninja and the other part of the foot are random people, she had never actually given her name to anyone. After a few missions together, Cass decides she can actually trust One with her name

They do end up being friends, tho One would never call it that, at least not pre-redemption

7) One doesn't really think much of it, he knows Draxum likes to cook, he has cooked for him his whole life, so he ending up with a cooking job on the surface is not so weird, and he knows Draxum has to lay low so it makes sence for him to be on such a crappy place. Plus One's gonna have another things in mind to worry about, he wouldn't have brains to judge that.

8) Oh I have so many things planned for their journey post redemption, but those are spoilers, they will eventually end up in a better place

9) I do have some doodles of one on casual clothes (1) (2), Draxum I honeslty have no idea

10) I'm gonna give you one thing with each of the hamatos:

Mikey teaches One to cook, he learn the hard way that you have to give One very specific instructions on what to do or he'll fuck up

One likes spending time on Donnie's lab, just lounging while Donnie works (is familiar to him), Donnie has a beanbag where he goes to nap sometimes while pulling consecutive allnighters, One ends up claiming that spot for himself

Raph helps One work through his anger issues, having experience working on his own, he's also the one One opens up the most

Splinter overhears One saying he used to wear a robe when being at his home and gets him a few. One ends up getting suck into watching telenovelas with Splinter

One likes putting on face masks with April, they end up having full "spa days" at April's at least once a month

and that's it! thanks for the ask!

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! I have an ask regarding everyday commodities (i think that's the word?) for a character with photophobia caused by albinism.

Her name is Lis, and she is one of the main characters in an urban fantasy setting. She has an older sister who doesn't have albinism, and I'm still considering if I'm gonna give her (Lis) nystagmus and/or dyslexia as well (nystagmus because apparently it's common between people with albinism, so I thought it'd make sense, and dyslexia because it's an idea I've been cooking in my head since her early concepts). She also learns magic on the course of the story, if that's relevant.

She's a very bubbly teen with a chaotic personality, and I decided to give her a very colorful design to represent that, and I also thought tinted glasses would both help her photophobia and fit in with her overall design, so I'm doing more research on them as well. I'm still figuring out how her vision is because I'm not familiar with the concepts yet, but I think she has low vision moreso 20/60.

I was wondering which other aids she could use on her day-to-day vibe. Any tips?

And thank you for running this blog!

oh, i forgot to give another information in my former ask (about Lis, the girl with albinism), that my character lives in North East Brazil, that is, in a very warm and tropical country, so maybe the accomodations she needs might change because of that.

Hello!

We do not currently have active mods with albinism, so I will respond as someone with photophobia, just keep this in mind.

Glasses are definitely good. They do need to be darkened, but if you want to play with colors you can either give Lis colorful frames or use a dark shade of a color rather than just black/gray for the shades. You can also make it so she has multiple pairs that she switches around to go with her outfits if she's into fashion - she'd be probably wearing sunglasses every day, it'd make sense for her to have more than one.

Another aid that's really helpful (and not really seen as an aid) is a big hat, or at least big enough to protect someone from the sun above. Glasses are good, but they only cover the front (unless she's wearing sport ones that go closer to the skin) and the light from above can still be painful. Bucket hats, sun hats, baseball caps, anything helps.

This is the part you take with a grain of salt because I don't have albinism;

Giving her nystagmus and/or strabismus is good since it's really common. Dyslexia doesn't have anything to do with albinism, but there's nothing unusual about a person having two unrelated conditions.

Assuming she has oculocutaneous albinism (there are multiple types of albinism, and not all of them involve the melanin of the skin), she will need to protect her skin too to not be constantly sunburnt. Since she lives in a hot and sunny place, flowy, but long clothes would be the best. Think maxi skirts or breathable shirts with longer sleeves. If she has ocular albinism, I don't think this matters since her skin shouldn't be affected. For the rarer types, you'd have to check her specific one.

The rest would be focusing on her as a low vision character, and a character who has photophobia on top of that - you can be able to navigate well at home where it's relatively dark, and not see shit when outside because it's too bright. So she might, for example, have to use a white cane sometimes, but not at other times. Or if her sunglasses are unusable for whatever reason (those break just as all other aids do), she'd need some other way to navigate. What does she do then? Is she so used to relying on her remaining vision that she'd need a sighted guide (I definitely was there because of my photophobia being really bad), or does she have enough O&M training to be able to use a white cane? What would her resources allow? Etc.

I'm also assuming that she's not the only magical character, but I'd advise you to read up on the "mystical albino" trope, since it's really prevalent with characters with albinism (oculocutaneous mainly).

Hope this helps,

mod Sasza

[askthefamous8]

Even if I haven't been very active lately, 9 years is still pretty significant- happy birthday to the blog!

So like Percy up there I'm gonna do so dome reflecting. This blog's where I've often done that for some reason, but here's the tl'dr for blog related stuff.

• I would like to keep drawing stuff but feeling generally unsure in myself, and I'm wondering if all the years of fandom harrassment have caught up with me • I have one big project in mind, I've been dipping my toe into what I'd need to do it. No spoilers but it was one of the first things I played around with this series, so do with that what you will • If I can keep myself drawing, I want to use more of the original source material since I'm struggling with original ideas. So stuff like redraws, hOpEfULlY even animatics, just like what originally got me so into trains yknow? Because that's fun and sparks joy. And that always goes down a treat with you guys so bonus • As always I appreciate you guys not coming after me for being so inconsistent

The rest of this is me doing what Percy's doing in the drawing and reflecting, as there is indeed much 2 think about. It's also a little sad and venty so, there's your warning there.

.

Ok so obviously a busy year, we moved into our new house that we actually own, I spent most of the year planning our wedding, and then got married. Big stuff. Also! I came off antidepressants in the summer. I've been on them for...basically as long as this blog, 6 months after I started it I think. Which also means I'd been on antidepressants my entire adult life. Feels like a big deal and I guess I'm still adjusting.

Another big thing, but sad, is that my dog died about two weeks ago. If you follow me on twitter you'll have seen her but she did make an appearance here a few Halloweens ago

I got her when she was 13 and had her 8 years after that. So that's been difficult. Unrelated to that (probably), but I just feel...really mediocre. And before you point out the obvious, this has been present even before I came off antidepressants. But yeah just... mediocrity. In myself as a person, how I look, what I draw, my whole life really (barring my marriage thankfully). What have I achieved? I'm 26, I'm not working, I don't feel well, my art isn't good (I don't think so anyway- like yeah it's technically fine I guess but it's not, and has never been, very stand-out or impressive). And lately art doesn't bring me the same joy it once did, and I'm wondering if all the years of harrassment from this fandom (mostly the twitter side, tumblr's been pretty good to me) has finally caught up with me and put me off the whole thing. Or worse, that I just don't have as much of an interest in it anymore. I don't think I'll ever be like "ok yep I'm officially done with this blog" because I'm so stubborn but idk. I want to make things and be creative, I want to make more train art, but it doesn't feel the same. I don't know what's wrong. What do you listen to? What you want vs what you feel? I still enjoy train stuff, I love going to Awdry Ex every year. It's been like this for awhile. It's not even like I have a strong feeling of what I'd rather be doing as far as careers go. And even if I did, oh yeah I'm sure my two degrees in animation will be very relevant in another field (sarcasm). I feel adrift. My sails are open but there is just no wind. Planning my wedding gave me something to do and work on and just, feel useful but now that that's over I feel lost again. Losing my dog, who had become the center of my life because of how vulnerable she had become, hasn't helped.

On the more creative side of things, I also don't really know what to do with this blog's story either. The show's ended as far as most people are concerned, and I kiiinda wrote myself into a corner because once Thomas turns 18 he's going to leave for university, and that sets off this whole arc with James but basically the problem is it involves characters leaving and for some reason that feels like a no-no here. Don't get me started on the timeline lol. But Thomas works on a railway on Sodor, that's how it has to be...right? I guess I'm sort of at a crossroads of, ok do I want this to be close to the source material, and thus easily digestible to newcombers? Or do I want to make it more and more my thing and distanced from the source material? I doubt there's many new people coming since the series ended. And even then, there's a lot more humanization artists around now than when I started, so it's not like I'm filling a niche anymore. Just to be clear it's fine and also good that there's more humanization artists, variety is good, I just don't feel as "needed" anymore (which is 100% in my head and not an actual role that belongs to me or something). I started this blog when I was 17, so my interests and what I relate to have changed obviously. The character designs certainly have. It's never followed a super rigid story plan, but the core of it has always been the central cast doing things on Sodor. I however have always had a scene/project/animatic/whatEver in mind for when this 'series' would '''officially''' ''''end''''. But then what comes after that? I've always tried to run this blog like they are Real People that You interact with. But in real life there is no ending to the story, there's always more stuff to come. You get married, and it's wonderful, and then life goes on. The credits never roll. So maybe that's what I'm having trouble coping with...the progression of time. Ah, my old nemesis. I've always had trouble with letting go of things. There's nothing to say that I couldn't still draw stuff after the series "ends". I guess any story after Thomas leaves could be like... a sequel series or a spin off or something. Spin-off of a spin-off. Famous 8 All Grown Up. Famous 8 Qurter Life Crisis. Who knows. I certainly don't.

I've also been really into an original project unrelated to this but those don't get as much attention and while I'd like to do something with it one day, I don't feel very confident in being able to make that happen right now. But you know... as far my as art not being super spectacular goes... I think my individual talent has always been is my ideas, like the writing side of things. And then brought to life with my art, which normally isn't anything to write home about but is good enough to convey the idea and be not-awful to look at, lifts both of them beyond what they were individually. Maybe that's what I should focus on. Maybe that's wishful thinking.

So....idk. Idk what I'm doing but I'm trying to be gentle on myself and just let myself continue to drift, to heal from this heavy loss, and then in the New Year I'll try and pick myself up. Then there will be no more big once-in-a-lifetime events coming up, no more just-moved-into-a-house-and-oh-no-there's-a-bunch-of-things-that-need-attention-NOW scenarios, and no more big holidays for awhile. I guess we'll see.

If you read all of this I am so sorry but also thank you for reading my ramblings. And thank you for being around, whether that's been for a few months or for several years, but especially if it's been several years

[depravitycentral]

Partnership

Yandere! Uvogin x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, theft, threats of violence, implied non-con, if your name is Stacy pretend it isn't, Stockholm Syndrome, brief mention of vomiting, Nobunaga is featured a bit in this but don't worry he doesn't want you, fem reader, MDNI

This is dedicated to @ramwrites, who is amazing and wonderful and offered to write me a welcome back gift, and I couldn't not give something back in return! Thanks for letting me write this for you; your writing is so good and makes me all giggly and inspired. For those interested, please check out her Shalnark piece - I haven't read it yet, but I'm sure it's just as good as everything else Ram produces.

WC: 10K

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy! 

“So you went and got yourself kidnapped, huh?” Uvogin asks, cocking a brow at you.

               You, who’s tied to a metal chair, gagged and blindfolded, very clearly having no fucking clue what is going on.

               You squirm, sitting up straight at the sound of a new, unfamiliar voice. Your cute little sleeping shorts had ridden up a bit, exposing more of your thigh than you were probably comfortable with, and Uvo notices with a distant sense of enjoyment that the thin nightshirt you’re sporting is doing very little to hide the way the cold air is affecting your chest.

               You’re weak, really; a pathetic little thing that has him scoffing and crossing his arms.

               “Listen up, I’m only gonna tell you this once. A friend of yours – Stacy, was it? Anyway, this friend of yours got herself noticed by the wrong type of guy.” He starts, plopping down and sitting in his own identical metal chair, just without the restraints.

               You stop struggling when he mentions her name, and he takes this as a sign to continue.

               “See, Nobuanga’s not a bad guy. He’s a little rough around the edges, sure, but any guy who isn’t is hardly worth knowing.” He chuckles at his own assessment of his closest friend, though you don’t seem to share the sentiment. “Stacy works at that shitty little restaurant he loves – the one with the sticky, greasy booths and the fries that come drenched with salt and are so limp they literally drip oil.”

               He shivers at the mere memory, the hamburger he’d ordered barely worth eating.

               “Don’t know what she did, exactly, but somehow he’s smitten – she’s got him all fucked up, ranting and raving about how beautiful she is and how she smiles at him all the time and flirts with him on the clock. Real annoying, if you ask me.” He sighs heavily, letting his thumb sit at his chin as he loses himself in the story of his best friend falling in love – with your best friend, no less.

               “And then she quit her job, I’m sure you know. Started working up at that movie theater – more shitty, oily food, just popcorn instead of fries this time.” He laughs again. “Nobunaga went crazy over that, you know, thinking that maybe she wanted to work in a more intimate setting like that so that he could sneak her off into some abandoned theater and get some one-on-one quality time, if you know what I mean.”

               You grimace, at both the implications of his last statement and the mention of Stacy quitting. You know exactly why she’d quit – it was the whole reason you’d been staying at her place, really. She was convinced she had a stalker, that there was this crazy man who used to bother her at the diner and follow her home. It’d scared her, obviously, and she’d requested – with a guilty look and fiddling thumbs – if you’d be willing to spend the next few nights are her place with her, because maybe if there was more than one person home he wouldn’t get gutsy and break in. Of course you’d agreed, believing her fully and not wanting to leave her alone to deal with this crazed freak.

               Although now, you’re starting to regret that decision just a bit.

               “As I’m sure you know, it didn’t change much. Pretty stupid, to be honest – if a stalker’s that dedicated, how the hell is a change of occupation going to change anything? Chick’s pretty dumb, if you ask me.” He shrugs, and although you can’t see it through your blindfold, you’re sure his face is awfully apathetic about the whole situation. “She was ignoring him, refusing to serve him at the theater, reporting him to her manager, even calling the police and getting a description of him circulating. She was going to get a restraining order against him, even – again, like that’d do shit.”

               He snorts, and you bite into the gag harder.

               Sighing, he looks up at the ceiling. “See, that’s the thing about Nobunaga. He might seem a little lazy sometimes, but he’s got a heart of gold when it comes to the ones he cares about. He’d do anything for that woman – steal for her, kill for her, anything at all. He’s a sap, totally obsessed with the chick, but it’s kind of sweet in a way, I guess. Means he really cares about her. Isn’t that funny? Her stalker really is in love with her.”

               You don’t find it particularly funny, but you can’t say much.

               “Anyways, the police finally got a sighting of him last night. Went through the system pretty fast – I’m a little impressed, to be honest. Normally takes those bastards much longer to process things. Regardless, a few too many sirens were going last night, even a few cars parked outside the apartment he’s been squatting in, yelling his name in those big, gaudy megaphones of theirs. Caused a real stir, and sent the guy into a panic.”

               He takes a moment to breath, tapping his foot lightly on the ground. “So what does he do? He calls me, in the middle of the night, talking so fast that I can’t even understand the guy. All I’m hearing is Stacy this, Stacy that, police and blah blah blah recognized. I had to force the words out of him before it made any sense, the idiot.” That same laugh rattles in your ears.

               “Eventually I got him to be coherent, and he told me that he had to ‘make his move’, whatever the hell that meant. Said he couldn’t wait anymore, that he had to take Stacy and run – the police were coming, and even though it’s not hard to take out a couple of poorly trained guys, it’s still a pain in the ass and Shizuku’s not here to clean up his mess.

               “Anyways, he starts begging me – literally, actually pleading with me, imagine that – to come and help him out. He told me there’s this other chick at her place – some girl she’s been keeping around for some unknown reason, and he needs someone to take care of the body.” Your blood goes cold, fear suddenly creeping back up your throat.

               Was he going to kill you? Why was he bothering to tell you all this if he was just planning on slicing open your neck? Did he find some sick pleasure in prolonging your death?

               He notices your discomfort, it seems, because soon he’s rolling his eyes, scoffing at you. “Calm down. You’re such a bad actor – can’t even see your face, really, and I know you’re scared shitless now. I’m not going to kill you, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

               You calm slightly, but not much.

               “As I was saying, there’s this girl he needs me to take care of – a quick death, nothing too flashy, which makes me immediately ask why the hell he’d request me of all people, when every time I kill it’s messy. It’s kind of my trademark, you know?”

               You didn’t, and you hoped it’d stay that way.

               He sighs again. “Anyways, I head on over to Stacy’s apartment, meeting Nobunaga outside and listening to him run down the plan. He’s going to run inside and knock her out, pulling her out of bed and running off to God knows where he’s got all set up for the two of them. And while he’s busy doing that, I’m supposed to head in and eliminate the friend. Seemed easy enough, if not a bit tedious, so I agree and we head inside, keeping mind of the sirens still in the distance.

               “Everything’s going smoothly, except once we get the front door open, it becomes very clear that Nobunaga was stupid and panicked and didn’t bother to doublecheck if Stacy was actually asleep.” He pauses to sigh dramatically, like it’s some big annoyance. “She’s fully awake, standing about ten feet away from the door, and then she starts fucking screaming.”

               You remember that bit – the screaming, that is, because it had woken you up from your slumber on Stacy’s couch. Everything is still blurry after that, disorientation fogging your brain from being so abruptly woken up.

               “She’s yelling and screeching, and if Nobunaga hadn’t been there I probably would’ve killed her myself just to get her to shut the fuck up. She’s got one of those high, shrill, shrieky voices, you know? The kind that really drive me up the wall - it’s damn annoying.” He pauses, looking at you skeptically. “Hope you haven’t got one of those, things’ll get messy real quick if you do.”

               You hope you don’t, either.

               “He rushes forward and tries to grab her, but she swats at him and, get this, manages to punch him in the dick.” He laughs aloud at that, slapping his knee and throwing his head back. “This weak-ass girl manages to get him on the ground flat, stupid ass’s hands clutching at his dick, and what does she do in the meantime? She runs over to the couch, grabbing this girl and staring back at me like I’m some monster.”

               You make a noise through the gag, but Uvogin ignores it.

               “I’ve gotta hand it to Stacy, though, she’s got guts. She starts yellin’ at us about how she won’t let us kill the girl, how she’ll kill herself before she lets us get our hands on her, and immediately Nobunaga crumbles. I don’t know why the idiot didn’t think of the possibility earlier, but he totally freezes up when she threatens that, just gaping like a fish. It was pretty awkward for me, to be honest, because watching him get so thoroughly rejected was giving me serious second hand embarrassment. I mean, the chick literally said she’d rather kill herself than let Nobuanga take her – pretty harsh if you ask me.”

               He looks back at your covered face, letting his gaze linger on the edges of the blindfold. “So he panics and gives into her demand, telling her he won’t kill her friend – says that he’ll just take her too, so that way everyone’s happy.”

               He frowns a bit at you, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, everyone except you, probably. And except Stacy, too, probably. And except me. So really, Nobunaga’s the only happy one.”

               Your face would sour if it was able to.

               “Anyways, it wasn’t hard to knock them both out and bring ‘em to their respective holding places. I’ve got no clue where the hell Nobunaga’s keeping his chick, but I’m sure you’ve figured out that you’re Stacy’s little friend.”

               You nod, slowly, the movement limited by your restraints. Your wrists have gone numb and your ankles feel bruised and sore, the ropes keeping them pinned the legs of the chair making blood flow difficult.

               “So, what to do with you now.” His voice is wistful, like he’s actually contemplating, and that same familiar fear washes over you again.

               He groans, the chair skidding out behind him as he stands to his full height. “Would you quit it with the fear? I already told you I’m not killing you, are you even listening to me?”

               You nod again, faster this time.

               Uvogin sighs, shuffling forward towards you. You can hear him approaching, and although your shoulders stiffen up, you try not to look as terrified as you feel. It doesn’t seem to work all that well, but he spares you another comment about it.

               Soon the blindfold is ripped off your head, leaving your hair messy and out of place, your eyes squinting and blinking rapidly to adjust to the rather bright white light hanging over you and what you can now see is an absolute behemoth of a man.

               He’s fucking huge – towering over you in every sense of the word, muscles practically bulging out of his body with how defined and massive they are. Black hairs cover every inch of his body you can see, even his arms and especially the bits of chest peeking out of his white top. Ragged, unruly hair sweeps down to his shoulders, making the muscles of his neck look even firmer, and you gulp. Any chance of escaping has basically left you now – there’s no way in hell you could ever beat that, especially if he’d already managed to kidnap you once.

               He clears his throat and your gaze is brought up to his face, a small, strange wave of embarrassment flooding through you as you realize you’ve been caught staring. He’s smirking, though, and you take in the sharp line of his jaw, the thick, dark eyebrows that frame equally dark eyes. He’s attractive, in a strange, rugged sort of way, and you immediately feel sick at the thought.

               “You like what you’re seein’?” He teases, and you immediately look away, still unable to reply with the gag covering your mouth.

               He laughs, and sets his hands on his lips. “Well, looks like you’re stuck with me. Before you freak out, I can’t kill you because that damn Stacy really seems to care about you, and she’s told Nobunaga she’ll kill herself if she doesn’t get regular proof that you’re still alive.”

               A flame of hope ignites in your chest, and internally you thank Stacy, even if this whole situation is less than ideal.

               He seems to sense your sudden upturn in mood, chuckling with a condescending lilt. “Oh no, princess, that doesn’t mean I’m letting you go. No, you’ve gotta stay put, because now that you know what I look like, you’ll go to the cops and report me as fast as those little legs of yours can manage.”

               You shake your head at that, eyes glistening with tears as he shuts down your last hope of escaping. Please, you internally beg him, hoping he’ll somehow be able to sense this too. I won’t, I promise!

               His gaze narrows at you, before that same smirk is back. “I’m sure if you could talk you’d be telling me how you’ll never tell a soul, but you and I both know that’s bullshit. So I’ll save us both some time and keep you here, so that I don’t have to track you down again and lock you back up once you’ve just gotten free.”

               You visibly deflate, and if Uvogin had been a kinder man, he would’ve almost felt bad for you. But instead, he just hums, crouching down in front of you. Even squatting he’s still taller than you, and it does nothing to make you feel less scared.

               “Now listen up, here are the rules. I’m a pretty nice guy, all things considered, so don’t break my rules and I won’t break your bones.”

               Your eyes get wide, but you nod along. He smiles, patting your knee.

               “That’s good, see? You’re already doing better than that Stacy girl, at least you’re not fighting me every step of the way.” Something about his statement makes guilt eat away at your chest – are you supposed to be fighting more? There doesn’t really seem to be a point – this man is massive, and you’re all bound and unable to move. You’re doing the best you can, right?

               “First,” He holds up a finger, “don’t even bother trying to escape. I’m bigger than you, faster than you, stronger than you, and smarter than you. There’s nothing you can try that I won’t see through, and you’ll end up regretting it more than you can imagine.

               “Second, no trying to hurt yourself. Nobunaga will kill me if I let you die, and it’d be a pain to deal with him.” He fixes you a stern look, and you nod.

               “Third, don’t go digging through my shit. I’m doing my buddy a favor by keeping you here, and if I find you snooping around… He didn’t say anything about roughing you up a bit, and it might be good for Stacy to see you with some bruises or a cast or two.” His threat doesn’t go unheard, and you nod again, throat bobbing as you swallow.

               He stares at you for a moment more, gaze calculating and judging whether you’ve really accepted his conditions, before strong fingers come up to untie the knot keeping your gag in place.

               “Don’t you scream, I’ll have to shut you up if you do.” He warns, before pulling the fabric away. Immediately you’re flexing your jaw, the muscle aching as you move it, and he watches with a neutral expression. You’re still tied up, unable to move really, and Uvogin gets a fleeting thought of how pitiful you look.

               “Um,” You start, your voice a bit hoarse from being so dry and unused for the last few hours. “What’s your name?”

               He blinks, before laughing a bit. “Of all the questions you could’ve asked, all the things you could’ve said and done as soon as you woke up from learning you’ve been kidnapped, and that’s what you chose? Shit, you wouldn’t survive in the wild, would you?”

               Shame creeps up your neck at his belittlement, but before you can defend yourself he’s answering. “It’s Uvogin.”

               You nod, not willing to look at him. It’s silent for a few moments, before he sighs again and reaches forward to untie the rope shackling your ankles and wrists. As soon as you’re free, you try to stretch out your limbs, keeping a weary eye on the man – Uvogin.

               What a stupid name.

               “Well, the fact that you’re not screaming your head off is a promising sign. Get up, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.” He orders, already taking off towards the door in the corner of the small room. You try to follow him, but your legs aren’t moving right, and it takes you a while to make your way over there. He looks irritated at your lack of speed, but says nothing, only holding open the door until you make your way through.

               You’re led down into a rather sparse apartment, only furnished with a single gray couch against one wall (with a few stains on it that make you wince a bit), a TV and some cabinets, a wooden table and two chairs, and a beat-up fridge in the adjoining kitchen. Everything’s clean, but the space lacks any sort of personality, and it makes you uncomfortable.

               “That’s your bed, extra blankets are in the closet. If you need anything tell me, and I might snag it for you next time I’m out on a job.” Something about the way he says ‘snag’ makes you nervous, so you just mutter a small affirmation.

               He gives you one last glance over, his eyes once again lingering on your chest, before stepping through the doorway.

               “Wait, Uvogin!” Your voice, a bit wobbly and unsure, makes him turn back, his brow cocked and curiosity dancing on his features. (And a bit of surprise, too, because he hadn’t expected you to say anything to him, or even use his name. Maybe you weren’t as skittish and weak as you seemed – though, he doubted that.)

               “Um, is it possible for me to see Stacy soon?” You asked, voice growing smaller with every word. He blinks, before standing up a bit straighter.

               “Actually, you’re in luck. Nobunaga called me about an hour ago and let me know we’re meeting up in a few days – he said it would be good for Stacy to have a ‘playdate’ with you. Whatever the fuck that means.” Uvogin shrugs, looking entirely uninterested, and you bristle at Nobunaga’s choice of words. Poor Stacy.

               Excitement brews in your chest; at least you’ll have a familiar face, and hopefully the stranger hasn’t done anything too terrible to your friend. Nodding, you glance back to the floor, wishing the hulking man staring at you would just leave. He does, a few moments later, and only then do you allow yourself to slump onto the bed he’s assigned you. The bedroom is bare like the rest of the home, with a twin bed set in the corner and a small set of drawers sitting nearby. It makes you laugh humorlessly – were you supposed to fill that chest? With what? You hadn’t brought anything with you, and you seriously doubted Uvogin would let you return home to grab some of your clothes.

               Sighing, you sat onto the bed, the mattress firm under you. Distantly, some part of you was pleased – at least the bed would be comfortable enough.

               Time passes slowly as you sit on the bed – not your bed, not yet. You stare at the wall ahead of you, the fear slowly seeping out of your system until only exhaustion remains. Sleep eventually takes over, and although you try to fight it, you’re slipping into a dreamless slumber before long.

               Uvogin’s tolerable, you’ve found. He’s certainly not nice, nor is he an especially great person to be around, but he could be much worse, you suppose. He’s fed you twice daily for however long you’ve been stuck here (it feels like a week, so you’re assuming it is, if only to stave off any self-doubt that’s creeping into the corners of your mind), and the food’s not terrible. It’s clearly takeout, the packaging sometimes even having Chinese characters on it or restaurant logos, and you’ve been mostly satisfied with his choices so far. He’ll sometimes ask you what you want, and while you were too scared to answer the first few times (which only makes him scowl and roll his eyes, muttering a small damn, Nobunaga owes me one), eventually you’d felt safe enough to be honest.

               He hasn’t hurt you, either. At least, not yet. You’re aware he could, if he wanted to – those muscles make it hard to forget, and you’d seen him crush his phone in his hand like a bug when a phone call with someone named Franklinwent poorly.

               He’s scary, still, but you’ve reached the point now where you aren’t practically hyperventilating every time he enters the room. You still keep him in your field of vision, weary for any sudden changes in his behavior, but every day that passes has you growing more complacent with your position. The constant threat of Stacy potentially facing consequences for your actions doesn’t deter you from being on your best behavior, either.

               Besides, sometimes he’s even a little bit funny – not that you’d ever laugh at his jokes, but he has this weird sense of humor that you think you’d like, if the situation had been different. If you’d met him on the street you definitely would’ve tried to cross to the other side, but you would’ve found him oddly charming, his snide remarks and cocky air a bit entertaining.

               You try not to think about that, though, because the mere presence of these thoughts means the Stockholm Syndrome is starting to kick in. And while you aren’t the most resilient person on the planet, even you have to admit it’s a bit early for that.

               Sighing, you take another bite of the curry he’d brought you, pleasantly surprised that the spice level was perfect. Uvogin didn’t have many rules, it was true, but he did have a few unspoken ones – one of which being that meals, particularly take-out meals, were to be eaten at the small, rickety table. Together, which wasn’t ideal.

               “I’ve gotta make sure you don’t try to starve yourself or choke.” He’d told you the first time, grabbing your shoulders and forcing you into the seat across from his, the noodles sitting in front of you still packaged neatly in their container. At first you’d been nervous he would try to poison you, but eventually hunger got the best of you and you were slurping the noodles down, still keeping a nervous eye on the hulking man in front of you.

               “So, big news.” He starts, taking a bite out of his chicken. He always took big bites, you’d noticed, but he ordered enough food that even if his pace was twice as fast as yours, he never finished before you.

               You glance up at him, trying not to let toomuch curiosity show on your face, but he seems to realize anyway.

               “I know you haven’t been up to much, but don’t make your excitement so obvious. Hurts my feelings to know you think I’m so boring.” He’s joking, you think, and to sate him you attempt to smile.

               “Nobunaga called me again this morning; today’s the day.”

               You practically choke on your food, eyes blowing wide and your hands beginning to shake. Finally, finally you’d be able to see Stacy – you’d been worried sick about her the last week or so, terrified that her transition to the life of being a captive hadn’t gone as smoothly as your own. (You snorted bitterly at that – smooth probably wasn’t the best word for how you’d been feeling, but at least you hadn’t been hit yet, or assaulted or any number of things. Hopefully Nobunaga wasn’t any worse of a person than your own captor.)

               Uvogin is watching you, you realize, with a strange look in his eye. As soon as you glance up at him you look away again, clearing your throat and trying to keep your voice even as you ask, “That’s good, it’ll be nice to see her again.”

               It’s silent for a moment, before his booming laugh makes you wince a bit. “Yeah, I’m sure you are. Finish up, I don’t like wasting food. Once you’re done we’ll head out - try to not to choke.”

               He says that right as you start shoveling the food into your mouth, hoping that eating quicker will mean you can see Stacy quicker. He chuckles at you, but you follow his orders and slow down a bit. He throws you one more glance, that cocky smile on his lips, before digging into his own food again.

               He’s eating a bit faster than normal, too, you notice.

               He apologizes with an insincere tone as he ties the blindfold back on you (he’d told you that you can’t know where you are just in case you decide to get rebellious and run away), and soon you’re stuffed into a car. Everything’s hard to keep track of when you can’t see, but Uvogin’s talking (like normal), so you try to tune into the sound of his voice to help the time pass.

               “Now listen, you might not wanna touch her too much, Nobunaga’s a bit…” He trails off, and you can hear his hand tightening on the steering wheel. “Possessive. You’re her friend and all, and I’m sure he won’t hurt you, especially not in front of her, but be careful.”

               You nod, absentmindedly.

               “Also, don’t be too surprised if she doesn’t look the way she used to. He was always going on about how she was dressed too inappropriately in her day-to-day life, so she might be a little underdressed.”

               He’d hesitated to say underdressed, and you tried not to think about what that could mean.

               It’s quiet for a few moments, and you shift in the car seat. He’d let you sit in the front, an unexpected luxury, but you didn’t like that he could see you while you couldn’t see him. He wouldn’t hurt you, you were mostly confident of that now, but who knew what he had planned.

               “We’re almost there. If things go badly, I’ll get you out of there. You’re pretty damn weak, a broken bone would probably take a few weeks for you to heal. I don’t want to deal with you being injured, and I’m sure you don’t, either.”

               Your lips must’ve given away your fear, because a moment later he’s sighing. “Did you know that you practically reek your emotions? I feel like I can smell ‘em, even when I can’t even see half your damn face.”

               You don’t have anything to say to that, but you force yourself to speak anyway, not wanting to dignify his last comment. “Do you think – well, do you think Nobunaga will want to hurt me?”

               Uvogin ponders your question for a moment, surprised that you’d spoken up. You hadn’t done much talking in the time he’d had you – he was sure it was because you were scared, but it was nice to hear you talking to him like you weren’t scared shitless of him. Even if you had every reason to be so terrified.

               “Honestly, probably. Especially if you touch her.”

               You suck in a breath, and Uvogin hums. “But it’s not going to happen.”

               “What do you mean?”

               You could practically hear his toothy grin.

               “It’s my job to protect you, right? So I will. Even if the one you need protecting from is the same guy who wants you to be protected.”

               Something in his tone gives you the impression he means those words more than he’s letting on, and you shiver as you imagine just who this Nobunaga guy could possibly be.

               “Oh my god, oh my god – you’re alive! Thank god!” Stacy sobs, arms wrapping around you like a vice before you can even respond. You clutch her back just as tightly, burying your face into her brown curls, a few tears pricking at your eyes. You’d been nervous that Nobunaga would’ve hurt her, with the way Uvogin was describing him, but after a thorough look-over, you find no bruises or marks marring her olive skin.

               Eventually she pulls back, but keeps her hands firmly grasping your shoulders. Her eyes are red with tears, and her lower lip is wobbling. She’s not hurt, but she looks bad – there’s heavy bags under eyes and her hair is frazzled, her lips look swollen and she’s clutching onto you hard. Really hard.

               “Stacy, are you hurt?” You ask, letting your hands cup her cheeks. You see Nobunaga – who Uvogin had pointed out with a small that’s the guy when you’d walked in – stiffen up at that, and Uvogin’s warning flashes through your mind. You might not want to touch her. Right.

               Stacy glances over at her captor, and you follow her gaze, only to see Uvogin give you a small nod and drag his friend out the door by the collar of his purple kimono, calling over his shoulder that they’ll be back in exactly five minutes, and that they’ll know if you try to escape.

               As soon as the door closes, Stacy pulls you in for another hug, the words flying out of her mouth so quickly you can barely understand her. “He’s – Nobunaga, he’s horrible. He never leaves me alone, and he treats me like I’m some incompetent little baby, and he’s always touching me and I just – I can’t –“

               You cut her off by pressing her face into your neck again, rubbing the back of her head and letting her cry. You’re crying too, now, but your tears fall silently compared to her sobbing.

               You don’t say much, because what can you say? It would be a lie to tell her that everything’s going to be okay, and every other reassurance that dances on the tip of your tongue just feels wrong, like you’d be pointedly lying to her. Instead, you let her get it out, her grip on you never loosening. You’d known Nobunaga had been the root of all her anxieties the last few months, long before he’d gotten the gall to kidnap her. And while you were happy that she wasn’t hurt, it still pained you to see her like this.

               Eventually she’d calmed down, and you feel her pull back and wipe at her sniffling nose. “I’m so sorry.” She whispers to you, looking like she’s on the verge of crying again. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this mess, I should’ve just gone quietly and left you alone. I shouldn’t have asked you to stay with me for a few weeks, now you’re really stuck with that monster.”

               You don’t tell her that it’s okay, because it’s not. Some part of you is still bitter and resentful towards her for involving you, because she’s right. You could be still living your life if she hadn’t requested you to help deter her stalker from making a move. But despite your anger, you can’t find it in yourself to hate her. Not when she’s like this – not when she’s probably experiencing something even worse than you.

               “It doesn’t matter now, all that matters is that we’re both alive, and we’re both okay. Or, at least, okay as we can be, given the situation.” You tell her, smiling softly. She blinks at you, eyes wide and vulnerable, before nodding and swallowing.

               “Yeah, I was worried that you wouldn’t be, with the way Nobunaga was talking about Uvogin.” Her voice was hoarse still, and you laughed humorlessly at that.

               “Yeah, well, he hasn’t hurt me yet, so I think I’ll be okay. He mostly just ignores me, honestly, so I guess I’m lucky.” Your attempt at optimism doesn’t make Stacy smile like you’d hoped. Rather, her lips pull into a frown and her eyebrows furrow.

               “He ignores you? That doesn’t make sense.”

               You expression mirrors hers. “What? I mean, the only reason I got kidnapped too was insurance so that you wouldn’t kill yourself –“

               Stacy’s face morphs into one of horror, and her grip on your shoulders goes slack.

               Quickly you’re backpedaling, worried the mention of her self-imposed death might’ve triggered something you wanted to avoid. “I’m not saying it’s your fault, I totally understand why you –“

               “Alright, time’s up.” Nobunaga’s voice interrupts, and knuckly hands are suddenly on your shoulders, pushing you aside so that Nobunaga can stand in front of Stacy. You stumble back, falling backwards against Uvogin’s hard chest, immediately standing up straight.

               Nobunaga’s cupping Stacy’s chin, and you can see from this angle the way he smiles, a slight pink color flooding his cheeks. It makes you sick, and the pained look on Stacy’s face only makes your gut sink more. She’s looking at you still, and something about the way her brows are cocked inward that makes you feel like she’s almost pitying you.  

               “Did you miss me, baby?” Nobunaga’s cooing down at her, and it makes your skin crawl. Uvogin sighs from behind you and grabs your wrist, dragging you out of the room. His grip is surprisingly gentle, and as you watch Stacy slowly fade from your view, you can’t help but be slightly grateful that at least your captor isn’t leaning down for a kiss like hers.

               The car ride home is mostly quiet, and it’s not until you’re nearing the end of your time in the vehicle that Uvogin breaks the silence.

               “So, what did you talk about while we were gone? Girly shit?” You think he’s attempting a joke, but you can’t even pretend to laugh at it.

               “She’s not happy.” You comment, voice slightly flat, and Uvogin snorts at your words.

               “Of course she’s not happy, she’s just been kidnapped. And by her stalker, no less – would anyone be happy? Hell, are you happy?” He asks you, and you blanch at his question. Somehow, though, it feels like some sort of trap, so you stay quiet.

               He doesn’t say anything more until he’s pulling you out of the car, your footsteps hesitant and clumsy because he’d put that damn blindfold on you again. He guides you up to the apartment, and soon you’re standing in the living room area, the fabric falling from your eyes.

               “I’ve got some errands to run today, so I’ll be gone for a while. Do you want anything while I’m out?” He asks, standing in front of the door with his arms crossed. You’re a bit touched that he’s offering to get you something, but you try not to focus on it. Of course you’re feeling grateful for him – he may be holding you captive, yes, but at least he hasn’t tried to kiss you or touch you. Poor Stacy didn’t share your luck.

               “Um, maybe some chips? I don’t care what flavor, just something crunchy…” You trail off, looking at him nervously. You’d never requested anything before, and some part of you is convinced he’d only asked you the question to laugh in your face and deny you.

               He cracks a smile and nods, hand already on the doorknob. “Okay. Okay, but you’d better be prepared to share, because I happen to be a big chip fan myself. So don’t get greedy, yeah?”

               You half-smile, rubbing at your arm. “Yeah, I won’t be.”

               He steps out the door, and once again the apartment is silent, his presence gone and all movement within the room gone, too.

               The TV won’t work for you, you know that, but you’re still trying to get it to behave. Uvogin had to type in some password every time he turned it on, and it was too long and encoded for you to ever be able to decipher it. Still, you were clicking the power button of the remote over and over, hoping against hope that it would somehow short circuit and bypass that password screen. When it didn’t, you only sighed, rising to your feet and wandering towards the monitor.

               Uvogin, you’d learned, was surprisingly meticulous – surprisingly organized, really. Meaning there was a chance he’d written down the password to the TV and had it stored somewhere. He’d only been gone for about a half hour, if the clock was any indication, and you had a lot of time to kill before he returned home. Not that he was your only source of entertainment – though, you’d read the single book he owned three times already.

               Your knees crack as you kneel down in front of the cupboard the TV was sitting on, the wooden doors creaking as they open. The shelves are mostly empty – a few older remotes, and a cable channel guide.

               Frustrated, you huff and let your shoulders slump, trying to decide what to do next. The TV obviously wasn’t planning on cooperating, though there was a cupboard right next to the one you’re searching through that could potentially hold the answer.

               Uvogin’s rules distantly float through your mind, his gruff voice replaying in perfect clarity. Third, don’t go digging through my shit. Glancing back up the clock, you bite your lip. You had time, because while he was massive and huge and scary, there was no way he could get all his errands done in just thirty minutes.

               With a deep breath, you move over to the other cabinet, letting your fingers curl around the knob. The doors don’t creak when they open, and immediately you’re scanning the shelves. These ones are full – with boxes, each labeled with a date on them. Cocking a brow, you examine the dates. January 4th – January 25th, April 29th – May 7th, and so on.

               Intrigued, you slowly slide out one of the boxes, noticing not a single bit of dust is sitting on the cover. He must use this cabinet much more often than the one you’d been searching through previously, as a thick layer of dust had sprung up in your face the moment you opened the cabinet door.

               The box itself is light, but you still set it down in front of you, your fingers delicate and careful, too worried that you’ll break something if you press too hard. And then Uvogin would know, surely, especially if he truly used this cabinet that often.

               Slowly, you take off the box’s cover, and immediately your brows are scrunching together. What the hell?

               When you’d imagined the kind of ‘shit’ Uvogin didn’t want you to snoop through, you hadn’t pegged it to be this. Whatever this was, that is.

               It looked like a box full of receipts – tons of pieces of paper, all in weird sizes or shapes that looked like they were ripped out of some sort of notebook. The handwriting is messy, the letters all crammed together and difficult to decipher. You pick the paper on top up, turning it this way and that, trying to read the text.

               Her: Sorry, I know it’s late, but I need to ask you a quick question.

               Them: Yeah? What’s up?

               Her: Do you think he’s alright? Chris, I mean – he hasn’t called me back for a few days, and I’m worried about him.

               Them: You know Chris, it always takes him a while to respond. I wouldn’t worry, he’s just unpredictable.

               Her: Yeah, I guess…

               [6 second pause]

               Them: Go to sleep, it’s late. You’ve got work in the morning, right?

               Her: Yeah, I do. Okay, okay, I’m getting into bed now. Goodnight.

               Them: Goodnight, call me when you hear back from him.

               Her: Okay.

               What was this? The ambiguity of it all confused you – who was her? Them? Chris?

               You furrowed your brows, confusion sitting in your gut alongside a strange feeling. The hairs at the back of your neck prickled up, and a small pang of unease bolted through you.

               Setting the piece of paper back into the bin, you picked up another one. This one was shorter, more to the point.

               Her: Are we still on for Friday night?

               Them: Yeah! Freddy’s, nine o’clock sharp. I’m buying, remember.

               Her: You always say that, and you always get too shit faced to pay. Liar!

               Them: Hey, I just know how to have fun! You could learn how to do that, you know.

               Her: Yeah yeah, okay, I’ll see you later.

               Your fingers are shaking as you finish reading the small, triangular slip of paper. Your lips are slightly parted, brows still crunched together. Something about the interaction between Her and Them felt oddly familiar – like something you’d heard before.

               And the mention of Freddy’s. That’d been the name of a bar you frequented often with your friends, back before everything had gone to shit with Stacy.

               Unnerved, you set the piece of paper back in the box and slide the box into its place on the shelf, running your eyes back over the listed date. August 28th – September 16th. One of your best friend’s birthdays was in that range.

               Wiping your palms on your thighs, you try to calm the pounding of your heart. Something feels off, wrong in a way you can’t quite place. Surely, Freddy’s is a common enough name; it doesn’t necessarily mean your favorite bar. Plus, even if it does mean that particular bar, who knew who these people were. You surely don’t - who the hell is Chris?

               Wanting to put some distance between you and the cabinet, you get to your feet again and close it, wandering away into the little hallway connecting the living space, bathroom and two bedrooms. Cupping some water in your hands from the bathroom sink, you splash your face, letting the cold wash over your skin. Closing your eyes, you try to calm down. It doesn’t mean anything – how could it? You’re probably just all shaken up after seeing Stacy and her freaky captor. Nobunaga disturbed you, you can’t deny it.

               Sighing, you open your eyes, wiping your face with your towel. (Uvogin had been kind enough to give you one designated as your own, saving you from the horrible fate of having you dry your body with a towel that he’d already used.) Though you notice with a small start that the towel is wet, despite you not having showered recently. Odd.

               As you turn to leave the room, you notice a shirt sitting piled up in the corner. It was black, and surely not your own – holding it up, it looked big enough to dwarf you. Must be Uvogin’s, then.

               His bedroom is across from your own, and while you haven’t been inside it yet, it feels wrong to just leave his shirt on the floor, where it could get dirty and maybe even moldy. Besides, doing a little cleaning would keep you occupied – both from boredom, and from contemplating those weird slips of paper further.

               You slowly open the door, immediately getting hit with a wave of musk. Uvogin normally smelled decent, but the scent in here is strong enough to make you wince a bit, the overwhelming stench of sweat, mint, and male making you a bit nauseous. To your surprise, the room is spotless – a very, very large bed sits floated in the middle, a navy and black flannel comforter covering the top while a few large, puffy pillows sit at attention at the head. A few pairs of boots are lined up in the corner, and a single picture looks to be taped up on the wall above them. Curiously, you step forward, moving towards the photo.

               Uvogin had told you very little about himself – only that he worked as a contractor, of sorts, and that he didn’t have too many friends, so you wouldn’t have to worry about visitors. But now that you’re looking at the photo, you’re wondering if maybe that last statement hadn’t been so true – the photo is of a dozen or so people, all posing for the camera with various degrees of a smile on their face. Uvogin’s in the back, on the left side, his arm wrapped around the shoulders of a shorter blond man, his blue eyes in a wink and holding up his thumb. Uvogin’s smiling, and as you scan the photo, you stop when you hit Nobunaga, who’s seated in the front row next to a woman with big glasses and a modified cross necklace. Everyone looks happy, and briefly you wonder whether Uvogin considers these people friends. He must, if Nobunaga’s present – an odd sort of satisfaction worms its way into your chest at the thought. You don’t like Uvogin, surely not – but still, everyone needs friends, right? Even kidnappers.

               God, you really are starting to develop Stockholm Syndrome.

               Shaking your head to try and clear the thoughts, you approach his closet and snag a hanger, trying to hang up the shirt you’re holding in your arms. The thing is tall, and as you try to get the hanger’s hook to wrap over the metal bar, your eyes fall to the side, noticing something out of the corner of your vision.

               It’s a soft pink, and you cock a brow. Uvogin? Owning something pink?

               Eventually, and with a soft grunt, you get the hanger to successfully sit onto the bar, and immediately you’re investigating the pink thing. This goes directly against his rules, you know – you’re quite literally snooping, but hopefully he’d still be out for longer. Besides, even if he comes back, you could just tell him you’re putting away his shirt, and maybe he wouldn’t call you on your half-lie.

               Whatever the thing is, it’s wedged pretty far back in the closet – you’d only managed to catch a brief glimpse of it, and for good reason. There’s a storage container in the back of the closet, an organizer of sorts with some compartments that all seem to be stuffed full. It’s hard to see, the overhead light dim to begin with and not penetrating too deeply into the dark closet, but you’re able to fish out the pink fabric soon enough.

               It's lace, you realize, your curiosity only doubling. That same pin-prickly feeling is back, and as you slowly flatten out the cloth, your breath catches.

               It’s a thong. Pink and lacy, with a bow decorating the back, right over the tailbone.

               But more than that, the thong looks familiar. There’s a thread pulled on the front right side, and a stain on the fabric at the very bottom, looking awfully similar to the color your own discharge makes once it’s been washed.

               Your fingers are shaking again, and you stumble back a bit, the back of your knees catching onto the bed so that you fall back and land on your ass, too busy staring at the cloth in your hands to bother trying to situate yourself.

               These panties are yours.

               You’re sure of it – you know because Stacy bought them for you a few months ago. She’d cheekily handed them to you with a big, gaudy bow on top, a wink sent your way and a demure because I know you’ve got a date tonight, and I also know you haven’t gotten laid in way too long. That was the night you’d been set up on a blind date with a friend’s coworker. He’d been nice, though you hadn’t slept with him, and you hadn’t gone out again after that. He didn’t seem all that interested in you as a romantic pursuit, but he was funny, and you’d hoped you could become friends, at least.

               And his name was Chris. And he’d gone missing a few days after.

               You drop the panties, a hand coming up to cover your mouth.

               You don’t want to, and you know you shouldn’t, but before you can stop yourself you’re rushing forward to the closet, digging back to that storage compartment and rooting around for anything else you can find. It must be a coincidence; it has to be a coincidence. These can’t be your panties, you must be mistaken – why would Uvogin have these? How could he have these? You’d lost them in the laundry a while back.

               At least, that’s what you’d assumed.

               Pulling your hand back, you see you’ve grabbed a few items. They’re smaller, not clothing, but nonetheless incriminating. There’s a chapstick container, with a strange flavor on it that you’ve only seen once, back when you won it in some weird fundraising fair you’d been at for your job. Kiwi banana grape, it said in curling black lettering, and when you pop open the top, you notice it’s almost completely empty.

               There’s also a button; it’s black with a strange shape, one you recognize as being from your favorite jacket. It’d fallen off one day, but you’d been too busy walking around the city to have realized. It was a real bummer, because it’d rendered the jacket unwearable because too big a draft would sneak through it.

               And lastly, there’s a bandaid – it’s old, you can tell, with a kiddy pattern of some fairies and a dinosaur on it that the nurse had apologized for having to use, telling you it was all they had available at the time. You remembered it – it’d made you laugh that you’d gotten your flu shot and she’d patched it up with a bandaid designed for six year olds, even going so far as to snap a photo and send it in the group chat you kept with your friends.

               You feel sick.

               Throwing the small items back into the compartment, you rush to the bathroom, barely making it before you’re heaving, all the curry you’d forced down your throat earlier coming right back up.

               What the fuck?

               Who was Uvogin? Why did he have all of this? How did he have all of this? What did it mean? Your head’s rushing, too many thoughts and implications swimming through your oversaturated mind, and you have just barely enough strength to flush the toilet and stand up, staring at yourself in the mirror.

               Stacy’s words rush back to you as you examine your face, seeing your wide eyes and the way your chest is rising and falling with each harsh breath slipping through your lips. He ignores you? That doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense – none of it at all. Why would your by-association captor have any of your personal items? Especially personal items you’d lost or thrown away literal months ago, long before you’d ever started staying over at Stacy’s?

               You know why, you just don’t want to admit it, and as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you try to come up with any other possible explanation. No. It can’t be. Stacy’s the one with the creepy stalker, not me.

               Suddenly, the sound of the front door’s lock clicking open makes you snap up, adrenaline suddenly coursing through your veins. Uvogin’s home.

               Immediately you’re running to your bed, jumping under the covers and shutting your eyes tightly, praying that Uvogin will think you’re asleep and won’t bother you. You need more time to figure this out – it’s all too much, and while it probably won’t be any easier the longer you wait, you need something.

               You can’t look at him yet. You won’t.

               “I got your chips! Didn’t know which flavor to choose, so I got three I think you might like. I’m serious, though, you have to share. I’m an animal, and I will steal your food.” He laughs at that, and you hear him set down the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. Your eyes are still closed so tightly that it hurts, and you ball your fists up in the blankets as hard as you can. You’d curled up into a fetal position, and you force yourself to stay still as you hear his loud footsteps coming down the hall.

               He calls your name, peeking his head into every room he passes. Soon he sees you in your bed, and although you look a little stiff, his shoulders immediately lose their tension. A smile flits across his lips, and he slowly, quietly shuts the door, retreating back to his own room.

               You sigh, peeling open your eyes and trying to get your breathing under control. You’d been holding your breath, and now that he’s actually home in the apartment, it’s difficult to not let yourself panic.

               It becomes much, much more difficult when you hear a noise come from his bedroom, though. What the hell’s this?

               There’s a muffled curse, and your blood runs cold as quick, heavy footsteps lead right up to your door. He swings it open and your eyes fly shut, trying desperately in vain to appear like you’re still sleeping.

               “Wake the fuck up.” He says, and immediately you open your eyes, your fear too strong to ignore. He’s holding the pink panties in his hands, and you realize with a small burst of terror that in your haste to get to the bathroom, you’d left them on the floor. In his room. Right where he can see that they’ve been moved.

               Fuck fuck fuck.

               "I only have three rules. What are they?” He barks, and you’re trying to curl up even smaller, hoping his promise of not hurting you will still ring true. Though, he’s lied about pretty much everything else – how do you know if that part wasn’t all a lie, too?

               “No hurting myself, no escaping, and no – no snooping.” You whisper, and Uvogin bares his teeth.

               “I’ve been good to you – patient, something that takes a hell of a lot of effort for me. And what do you do in return? You go and do one of the very few things I’ve forbidden.” He looks impossibly tall right now, towering over you with those muscles, the panties looking downright tiny between his monstrous fingers. “Tell me why. Explain to me why the hell you were snooping through my closet.”

               You shut your eyes again, too scared to look at him. “I was putting away a shirt you left in the bathroom. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I did it, please don’t hurt me, please –“

               He interrupts you with a huff, and you tense up, waiting for some blow to land. It doesn’t, though, and after a good thirty seconds, you finally peel an eye open, almost too scared to see what he’s doing.

               You don’t expect the small smile that’s sitting on his lips, nor the hand on his hip. He locks his eyes with yours, then sighs. “Well, this is most definitely not the way I wanted you to find out. See, I had this whole plan – Nobunaga came up with it, one of the very few things he’s ever thought of that actually impressed me.”

               You’re confused again, but that sick feeling still hasn’t gone away. All you can seem to look at are your panties, wedged in his fist.

               “He told me that since you and Stacy were so close, we could cut a deal – kidnap you both at once, get more bang for our buck. There was no way to hide Nobunaga’s feelings for Stacy, sure, but you? Well, you haven’t noticed anyone following you, have you?” Uvogin asks, cocking his head at you and letting his smile get a bit wider.

               You quickly shake your head no.

               “I’m better at this stuff than he is. He always gets too excited to talk to her, wants to interact and have her lookin’ at him. I get it, I really do. Even now, even with you scared shitless and looking at me like I’m about to kill you, just you acknowledging me is getting me hard as a fucking rock.”

               Involuntarily, your eyes dart down to his navel, and with a small, strangled sound of fear, you notice the way there’s a prominent bulge forming in those shorts of his.

               He laughs at your change in focus, and steps forward. Hooking a finger under your chin, he smirks down at you. “I’m better at hiding myself, and I was willing to play the long game, content with watching you until the right time came to snatch you up. But when Nobunaga offered, telling me there was a way to get you all to myself and make sure you grew to want me organically? Well, I couldn’t resist, could I?”

               You want to tell him he absolutely could’ve, or that you wouldn’t have ‘wanted him organically’, whatever the hell that meant, but your tongue doesn’t seem to be working.

               He leans down, face coming closer and closer to yours. “You had no idea, did you? How do you think I knew what kind of mattress to get you? How do you think I knew exactly what to order for you for takeout, even when you were too scared to tell me? How do you think I know what shampoo and conditioner to buy you, or even what kind of fucking cologne you like? Believe me, I’m only wearing this shit for you.”

               You’re frozen, unable to move, unable to do anything but stare at him.

               “Do you get it now, princess? See, Nobunaga doesn’t give two shits about whether you live or die – he’ll get Stacy to do what he wants no matter what. But me? I give a shit.” He’s so close to you that you can smell his breath. It’s minty, like he’s just recently brushed his teeth. The cold smell only makes you shiver, fear still tingling up your spine.

               “Why?” You whisper, overwhelmed at his sudden confession.

               He pauses at that, smirk falling away as he genuinely considers your words. He’s quiet for a moment, before he smiles again, but this time it’s not as predatory – there’s something oddly soft about it, and it makes you feel worse.

               “Because you’re perfect. That’s all.” He answers like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and before you can say anything he’s clambering on the bed next to you. You want to fight him off, to jump up off the bed and run, but you can’t seem to find the energy to. Besides, you’re not delusional enough to think you could beat Uvogin in any sort of physical altercation or chase. And while he still seemed to be adhering to his promise of not hurting you, you didn’t feel like testing the waters.

               “So I guess the jig’s up. I was hoping you wouldn’t find out, but I can work with this, too. At least now I don’t have to act like I don’t know you. And now, I don’t have to do all that respectful distance shit – you’re mine now, babe, and now I don’t have to hide it.” He’s grinning again, his teeth looking too sharp, and before you can blink he’s above you, your wrists pinned above your head and his lips inches away from yours.

               “So why don’t I show you just how much your attention the last week’s been affecting me?” His voice is low, sultry, and makes you gulp. He presses his face into your neck, deeply inhaling and groaning. “I promise I can make you feel good… I’ll tell you my last rule, okay?”

               You’re frozen, but when he pulls back to glare at you, you shakily mutter out an ‘okay’.

               His grin is wolfish, predatory, scary. “Rule number four is no running away from me, even if that cute little body of yours can’t take anymore. Got it?”

               You nod.

[lonigiri]

model; chapter ; measurements

masterlist

taglist

knock, knock, knock. she looked over at the door knowing who was at the other side of the door. a tiny smile formed on her face before kicking herself off the couch where in front of her, on the coffee table, was all of her tools set up, and by tools it was just a measuring tape and her laptop with a google sheet pulled up that she'd made the night before. she made it to the door, peeping through the peephole before unlocking and opening the door. kuroo stood on the other side, hands in pockets, looking the other way before turning his head, eyes settling on yn. he kinda forced back a smile, poking his tongue in his cheek before giving yn a wave. "come on in!" is what yn said waving him inside as she deeper into the house. kuroo following shortly after her, kicking his shoes off at the door, then following her to the couch as she plopped herself down.

"okay im ready." kuroo said, standing with his arms out with his eyes squeezed shut. "dude, what do you think im gonna do to you?" yn laughed as she pushed kuroos arms down to his sides. "to be honest i dont know." he pierced his lips into a thin line. "okay so heres what gonna happen-" yn explained to him what she was going to be doing, and what 'taking his measurements' was going to ensue. "you're also gonna have to take your jacket off, i probably should've told you to wear tighter clothes but that was the past, luckily you wore shorts so it shouldn't be too bad." most of what she was saying was her talking to herself but he still listened to every word. kuroo dropped his jacket onto the couch and waited for his next instructions.

yn pretty quickly took kuroos measurements. not really having any bumps along the way. sometimes kuroo would tense up with her touch but she just took it as not everyone loves to get their measurements taken and have hands all over their bodies. she knows when she did this for tendo that he would slap her if she did something he didnt like, even though he was the one that asked her to take his measurements... anyway thats not the point. shes just sure thats why he was tensing, no other reason!

she had finished as quickly as they started. "thats it?" kuroo asked, yn nodded "yeah, measurements dont really take super long usually." she said as she typed the last few things into her computer. "i'm probably gonna start making the clothes soon though! which is the more fun part! but with that you need to be there a lot of the time, like more then you have been recently, because i need to have you try things on and etcetera etcetera. just a bunch of kinda boring stuff for you." to be honest all kuroo was hearing is that he got to spend more time with her and it just made him even more giddy then before. he just nodded along with what she was saying as she rambled on, the words kinda just going in one ear out the other. "okay well, i'll see you on monday!" "yeah see you monday." kuroo smiled at her before leaving.

note: i hate this with a passion so whatever

taglist: @dwkkiu @milkystarrrycharm @spiderlily-w1tch-blog @obamakinnie @tetsuswhore @this-is-me-lolol @emotiandon @pkjay @eruphi @mirtaspace @jellysupremacy @giocriedpower @rrosiitas @lorisheaven @nymphsdomain @0stukie (if ur name is bolded and italicized i cannot tag u, pls change ur settings)

[thorias]

I didn't expect to come back to this blog, but after watching ep5, I really needed to get some thoughts out of my head.

So I haven't exactly recovered yet from having my still-beating heart ripped out of my chest, but the more I think about it, the more I'm calming down about what X-MEN '97 just did to Gambit.

Remy Lebeau is NOT going to his grave thinking that Rogue chose Magneto over him. That is not happening and Cable is going to be the key to undoing it.

Cable showing up right before the attack on Genosha means that time travel is going to be involved here, so the normal rules don't really apply. And his brief scene with Madelyne strongly hinted that he's already tried to stop the attack multiple times. This is what Cable's arc for the season is about.

This was all set up from ep1. Now we know that the weird ghost thing Maddie saw on the psychic plane was Cable trying to warn her (you can tell from the voice and the same musical queue in both scenes) amidst visions of her infant son and a giant graveyard.

And what happened just one episode later? Rogue delivered baby Cable. No way that's a coincidence; that connection is there for a reason. Cable owes Rogue one and you know what that means.

And frankly, the writers kind of overdid it in this episode because SO many characters died here, there's just no way this isn't going to be undone somehow; these are characters the writers are going to want to use in the future.

Are they going to kill a character whose storyline isn't even finished yet and then not bring them back? Are they going to keep Maddie dead and just abandon the psychic affair story without wrapping it up? Come on. There's no way we're not going to see her again and the same goes for the others.

I'm not saying Cable will prevent the attack entirely, but he's going to change things enough to make a difference. It's the whole reason he's here.

And how fitting would it be for Cable to save Gambit when it's Chris Potter voicing Cable now? Plus, Cable's introduction scene in X-MEN TAS was him meeting Gambit AND he has that connection with Rogue now too. It's perfect symmetry.

Beau DeMayo even said that Gambit dying thinking Rogue chose Magneto instead of him would be key; this is a story point. That is going to absolutely haunt Rogue and she's going to stop at nothing to set it right.

Cable's gonna fix this shit. Cable will save Gambit, probably with Rogue's help. I'm not ruling out Gambit becoming Death for a while along the way, but this story definitely ain't over.

[emilydorp]

ok so i've been following gtop for a while but i'm still a bit confused about the timeline of their relationship, if it's not too much trouble could you sort of explain (briefly, of course) their relationship through the years, like at what points were they together, broken up, etc?

Thank God you said briefly, Rachel was soooo ready to start pestering me to pull up every single receipt I had and make a complete timeline (since I promised her I'd do it one day... but I also promised to watch Good Day lmfao). I made one when I just got out of hiatus, but turned reblogging off cuz I knew it wouldn't be a good one (and I was right) since I'd just come back to the fandom after a WHILE. So here's me tryna set a better timeline for you :)) I wouldn't be adding receipts since there's just soooo much, but I'll mention what I'm using as proof and/or referencing (and most of it is on my blog... tho I can't ask you to go through it since it's wayyyyyyy too messy, if you reallyyyy wanna see something I'll look through my blog/other blogs/Instagram for you, feel free to ask! :D (I'll ofc also lowkey be plagiarising my old post, it's not that bad.. but don't read it please please please please-)). I'll add asterisks around some things for more "headcanony" thoughts (but ofc they'll be based on observations).

Pre-dating history:

They met each other in 2000 and were "(hip hop) rivals" is what Jiyong apparently said during an interview (I reblogged at some point, probably multiple times (cuz I do that a lot) lulz), but I'm pretty sure they weren't enemies since Tabi later says that since they've known each other since 2000, Ji knows him very well (he said this during Come To Play in 2008). From everything I've seen, GTOP met each other in 2000, Jiyong moved away from the neighbourhood they shared (probably (I'm guessing here because of circumstances) in 2001 or 2002), after which they were reunited at most in 2005.

*Most people agree that: Jiyong either formed a crush in 2000 or 2006 (most people believe 2006) and Tabi was slow and didn't realize he was in love till 2008 (yep, he's the cliche "male lead actually loved the female lead all along" guy) and we make this assumption because of the clip where Jiyong corrects Tabi and reminds him of the fact that he had his first love in middle school. They only start dating in 2010, which is when they created GD&TOP vol.1 (which is why that album rocks; it was built upon GTOP's honeymoon phase).*

Dating history (I'm just gonna talk about their break ups):

Broke up ending 2012-beginning of 2013, but were (maybe) having issues since August 2012 (GD's instagram likes, posts, overal behaviour + Coup D'Etat album (*with at least 2 songs having a strong connection to Seunghyun; personally I think more than 2 songs were inspired by T.O.P.*). They were 100% broken up by the time his OOAK tour came around, so March 2013, that's something everyone I saw can agree upon.

Got back together in June 2013, but *most people don't think they started dating again at that point (and I agree, I can't really explain it clearly anymore tho..* I think it came down to Jiyong wearing the blue bracelets again temporarily and them still being a bit distant by the time August rolled around), but they were definitely dating again in September 2013 (When Seunghyun's KakaoTalk status was literally from what GD had been doing the past few weeks with a photo of GD as his status update + the clip that I just spoke about with anon).

Okayyy, so THEN they broke up either the night of March 26 or morning of March 27 2014 (GD's very heartbreaking Insta updates and likes, drunk tweets, leaving South Korea to be in Japan instead to get away from his break up and him crying on stage but covering it up by saying he's just very sweaty cuz it's hot + Tabi also being emotional later on during a different concert) -> May 11 2014 they most likely started talking again because GD posted "Baby Goodnight" to his Insta (or Twitter) story and started liking and posting more happy posts. After this, we're in HEAVEN. Even tho we get the Jiko bearding incident (I will never not be goddamn pissed that we'll never be able to shake that off), we get so many receipts, it's beautifullll.

Okay now we get to December 2019 - February 2020. GTOP were unstable again (and I can't bear to go through those receipts on most days, they both just looked so upset sometimes). They either broke up at some point or had a pretty horrible fight (I think it's this one). But by the time March 2020 rolled around they were both very much together again. I really don't wanna bring this up again tho cuz ugh TOT.

Then the most recent break up, that according to me toke place somewhere in the beginning of April 2023 because GD & TOP were HAPPY AND OVERJOYED AND OVER THE MOON (pun unintended) in 2022. He then inconsistently started liking GTOP content now and then, starting from about July 2023 (where he liked a clip of him scolding the other members in Japanese for taking to long to give an intro to the GD&TOP stage. Tabi's face isn't visible but Ji clearly says GD&TOP in the video). And then he also wears the bracelets at September 2023. In April 2024 he used Baby Goodnight for an Insta story. By the time 2024 rolls around and his scandal is over (thank gosh) his GTOP likes are a bit more consistent, culminating into him liking a post in December 2024 about Tabi's place in SG2 being confirmed. And then, after the Baby Goodnight Story in Paris in January 2025, (and Ji liked a reel alleging he met up with Tabi that day *I trust this like*) his GTOP likes increase exponentially. *I have (personally) pinpointed the day after the second Seoul concert as an important day because he started to like more romantic reels + his likes of the GTOP references he makes + a lot of other stuff that to ME is confirmation that they're talking to each other again, because liking past GTOP moments vs. liking posts that alleged you were referencing Choi Seunghyun during concerts is very different imho and is just ONE of the reasons I think they're speaking again (besides him using GD&TOP songs for his story, etc).*

Sighh.. I think I addressed everything? Lemme know :D

[shy-writes]

Alright *cracks knuckles* Let's get a dialogue going about your writing/OCs, shall we, Shiloh? :)

Which of your characters do you feel is the most UNIQUE from the rest? Why do you feel this way? Do you like their unique features more or less than what is "the norm" for you?

If you had to dwindle your favorite OC into a character trope, which one(s) would you describe them as?

Do you tend to lean more toward creating female, male or nonbinary characters? Or gender fluid?

What kind of writing sets your heart absolutely ablaze? What do you feel it takes to create the Perfect WIP to just make you mad with love for it?

What are your dreams for your writing, just in general? Do you want to be published? Do you want to inspire your readers? What are your writing dreams?

What is something that you struggle with as a writer that you don't feel you see enough writers talking about?

What is the best part of being a writer? Not the best part of writing, necessarily, but of actually being a writer?

How would you describe your characters' clothing style? Comfy? Chic? Slick? Awkward?

What high school trope do you feel fits each OC that you want to answer for (ie jock, prep, nerd, burnout, etc)?

Have fun and happy writing/blogging!~

okay the way this feels like either you're a villain revealing that you've done a thorough background check on me or a teacher trying to save a troubled youth is just magnificent and THANK you

so let's get into it fellas

probably joel honestly? he's just so nice and well-rounded. all the other characters are like "ughh i'm so fucked uppp my childhood was so sad and i am strange and offputting" and he's just. makin some cereal. he is the "that's rough buddy" of characters and i enjoy him as a side character but i don't think i could live in his head for too long lmao

i'm gonna say chaos goblin. fav character to write tbh

see i was gonna say "nonbinary" but then i realized i don't accumulatively have like a ton of nb characters, it's just that all my characters tend to lean androgynous in some way. but eterna has 2 female characters, 2 male characters, and 1 nb character, and nyx introduces 2 female characters and 1 nb character, so numbers wise i suppose i actually write more female characters!

i will forever and always love to write about feelings. action and movement are honestly my biggest weakness, but i LOVE writing feelings. anything that lets me explore the most extreme ends of human emotion is right up my alley

i want to be published! i'm actually querying agents for my first novel, eterna, right now. no bites yet, but here's hoping... anyways, in the end i just want to make queer books that make people feel something!

honestly the biggest problem i'm having atm is getting agents interested. getting traditionally published is super hard, and i feel like there's this conception (or at least there was with me) that you write your book, then you get it published. but really if you're wanting to publish you have to start working on building a foundation to lead you there before you've even started your novel. i feel like i'm just playing a long game of catch-up tbh

i think being able to describe things exactly how you feel them is one of the most gratifying parts of being a writer! like i know how to twist the english language (in writing, def not in speaking) to create the exact mood or sensation i want. in theory, anyway. i hope it's true lol

chia wears like black leather sexy goth clothes as the villain nyx but they tend to wear more loose, comfy clothes off the clock; clay wears whatever janice tells her to; janice is very business all the time, but like 90s business. like she's 30 but she dresses like a 60 year old ceo; cat wears a lot of practical and dark clothing on the job, but he likes to play around with fancy, androgynous fashion on his downtime; joel's very much a casual comfy guy. like he pays attention to what looks good and all that, but he'll choose function over form every time

okay hell yes, so chia is defo like a punk rebel with a secretly problematic home life; clay is a socially inept jock; janet is student council president; cat is the kid whose test answers get him sent to the guidance counselor, no i can not explain; joel is the friendly stoner who gets along with everyone

ahh this was so fun bestie thank you!! and if anyone else has any q's feel free to send them i love gushing about my little guys

[deergirlfangs]

New Pinned post <3

Hi there, the name is Zelda, or one of like, 20 other names that may or may not be listed somewhere around here. If you know a name I go by that isn't findable here don't use it. <3

I'm bigender which is made up of girl and fem6oy, as such I use she/her and sometimes he/him pronouns when I'm feeling fem6oy enough <3

I'm in my 30s, not getting more specific than that until I decide it's not true enough to change it, don't try to find my exact age as I don't like sharing that information publicly, I don't even update it on my birthday <3

I'm a polyamorous bisexual voraphile freak and if you're over 18 you're welcome to talk to me about how much of a freak I am. I love to flirt and encourage it. Also happy to share my Other Blog with anyone interested, again as long as you're of age. <3

I'm a film graduate and currently working on doing something with that experience as well as working on a superhero comic and a 2D zelda style game. Feel free to bug me about any of those I love to discuss writing and media and want to encourage media literacy. <3

I'm also an ex-jehovahs witness and as a result I'm hugely into the holiday season in a very against my old god kinda way. Also big into sinning <3

Also I'm like, a dragon in probably an otherkin/thetadelta kinda way, like, it's core to who I am and how I understand myself so yeah. Despite this my fursona is a fox, the dragon in my icon is literally me <3

I also draw sometimes and when I do it'll be posted to @dragongirldrawings but always reblogged here too.

Also I'm a member of a plural system, feel free to check out the rest of the system over here @haven-sys <3

Further on the identity weirdness I'm an imaginary friend for the person who used to inhabit this body, they've been gone for like, over 20 years so it's not really relevant but I have started embracing my nature as a fictional creation, it's comforting.

Btw, if one of my posts containing my typing quirk ends up on your dash I take no responsibility for it. I use it in posts that are for me only and if they happen to resonate with others that's their choice to reblog.

I had intended to set tipping up on my blog for a while but adhd caused me to never get around to it sooo, homebrew tip button on my original posts. Feel free and outright encouraged to steal this idea <3

So yeah that's me, hiii I love you all <3

this post is specifically a6out tum6lr user Zelda dragongirltongue [tip]

DNI list under the read more.

lmao imagine if I actually made one of those finally, that's how you'd know I've been replaced with an evil clone or something.

That being said if you're looking at my blog to send me an ask or dm about what someone gets off to please understand unless they're actively hurting someone I rly don't care. I have a lot of ignored and blocked anons about this.

This goes double if the person you're trying to alert me to is trans femme, we don't play that game here, especially given that I know I've been targetted for things as simple as engaging in vore the wrong way for some people or whatever.

Like, I just want to make it clear I rly don't give a fuck what another adult does in the bedroom, I rly don't care if the bedroom happens to include their blog and I rly don't care if they like to flirt about it with other adults on this website.

Also if your pinned post is a callout for anyone about anything it's likely to set off my paranoia around you, which is to say I will not be able to trust you if this is the case even if it's for someone who's actually a danger to a community, like, actively.

Like, this ain't a moral stance or anything, it's a mental health thing. I see that you want to make your first point of contact into a crosshair on someone else I'm gonna be scared you're gonna aim at me next even if it's completely reasonable that you'd never find anything objectionable with me. It scares me and I'm gonna spend every interaction walking on egg shells around you cos what if you're digging for dirt, like, I got no way of knowing.

Anyway as the opening joke implies I don't see any worth in having a list of things to not interact with me over cos the lived experience on this planet is so full of nuance and I've formed deem friendships with people who'd probably have avoided me if I had a DNI and they cared about it.

I think DNIs are dumb but this feels like a space to talk about some general limits on what I'm gonna put up with on this website. I'm just here for a good time with other freaks, anything else is optional. If you want to drag me into your discourse at this point then I guess this is whre I ask you to Do Not Interact. To anyone else, I love yall <3

If you've been directed here after sending an ask my way please apologize for wasting my time [here]

tl;dr DNIs are dumb but don't drag me into your personal grievances with others.

this post is still specifically a6out tum6lr user Zelda dragongirltongue [tip]