#so its a lot. softer. than in game.

[ashcreepcluster]

I just wanna harp on about my hc’s for Ast*rion fora minute teehee (censoring the name bc I do not want to be associated w fans of the character this post is for me and my five followers ONLY)

So she was born to an upper class family (duh) to a highly masculine home (masculine for an elves at any rate) She was kind of the pale faced middle child, constantly shown up by two overachieving brothers whom she was always compared against- her father would needle her over this all the time, telling her what she was doing wasn’t good enough, that she was a disappointment etc. However her mother adored and doted on her- Ast*rion always got the sense that her mother wasn’t liked or respected in the household and as such, her mother kind of took it upon herself to groom Ast*rion into being proof that the both of them were capable of something. So she tried to get Ast*rion into law school, which she failed because her entire childhood was either being spoiled rotten by her mother or being berated to by her father, to which her typical reaction would be to simply dig her heels in (like trying to get a husky to go in a direction the dog doesn’t want to. They just plant their feet and won’t move) so her mother paid for her entry into law school instead. All throughout her studies, Ast*rion spent her parents money to go to high class, overpriced wine bars in the upper city to complain about her family to whomever would listen. I think she would’ve had one or two boyfriends but she was so self absorbed that they barely registered to her, other than things to complain at. The relationships never lasted long. Her mother absolutely paid for her to pass the bar (I don’t think Ast*rion’s stupid, I do think she’s lazy and selfish and wouldn’t’ve tried at all)

As for transitioning, I think because she’s from such a high control masculine environment where she’s never had a choice for herself before, where being a woman is silently looked down upon, I think she would have the desire to transition but would have no idea what to do with it- too afraid to make this huge change in her life but at the same time, it’s too much of an essential thing to deny. So I think it would have been this hidden thing that would’ve come out one day and she would have pursued transition but it would take a very long time. It’s only once she’s out from under C*zador’s control that she’ll finally allow such a precious part her to be acknowledged once again. I think for a very long time, it was her one last hold-out, a bastion or something to be cherished that was hidden, hers and this one last mote of hope that one day she could have a future that was all hers.

[cloneslugs]

Ellie killing someone & Joel scolding/snapping at her and being angry -> transitions to eventual "shooting gameplay sequence but you need cover fire so here is the resolution" 👍 this makes sense in the medium of a game bc it lets the level mean something when she's covering your ass vs Ellie shoots someone (who Joel ends up pretty brutally(not quite the word) killing) & Joel just kind of is annoyed she has a gun -> resolution is him teaching her to hold a gun and also talking it out on how kids shouldn't have to do this/he shouldn't have put himself in a situation where she feels she needs to do this 👍makes sense for TV show bc it opens up directly to character lore/development and plays into the narrative as something non-interactive

[aft3rhrs]

— hangman ღ

number: unknown. pt 2.

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: strangers to lovers

warnings: dead dove, yandere, smoking, manipulation, corruption, allusions to depression and anxiety, allusions to past familial abuse, kidnapping, drugging, hints of fear kink (mind games, mentions & threats of snuff and necrophilia), allusions to cnc, mentions of stalking, angst, obsession, dub con, humiliation, praise, choking, possessiveness, outdoor sex, rough sex, dirty talk, use of triggering words in an erotic and degrading manner* (listed under the cut), creampie, mindbreak (??? a tiny bit), aftercare, mentions of murder and corpses, revenge themes, softer towards the end

*use of the word “rapist”.

masterlist

It's been three weeks since Jungkook has started seeing you in clubs. Five weeks of silence since the last phone call. It didn't take a lot for you to let your guard down, a tempting invitation for a predator like him. Were you passing time drinking, hoping he would finally come around and see where you've been hiding? Terrified of the moment fantasy bleeds into reality, but unable to resist its pull?

He didn't have to wait long to find out.

He caught when you were walking home, heart throbbing the moment he finally felt your warmth. The thick shadows of the alley concealed your bodies, and if anyone were to walk by, they'd see nothing but a pair of lovers embracing in the dark.

No one would notice the cloth damp from chloroform pressed into your mouth, or the way his voice made your frightened form soften in his arms.

"It's okay," he shushed. "It's just me, baby..."

A monster familiar was better than a beast unknown.

"I'm sorry, I just need you to take a nap. I'll take care of you. I promise."

He pressed his lips into your forehead, stroking your hair as you limped in his hold, less conscious by the minute. A kiss goodnight, marking your departure to the empty dreamland that swallowed you whole.

Jungkook scooped you up, carried you to his car, then laid you down at the back before starting the engine.

The drive was smooth, the roads long and dark, inky outlines of trees thickening as they stretched forward. The little dress you wore barely covered your legs, prompting Jungkook to turn the heating on; even if his jacket already kept you warm.

Two hours later, you began to stir.

Your eyes opened, hazy from sleep and the drug running through your system. Your consciousness fluttered awake slowly, along with all of your senses. You registered the feeling of Jungkook's heat blanketing you, his arm tight around your waist, keeping you tucked into his chest. You registered the weight of his hand cradling your cheek, and the smell of his cologne, mingling with leather.

"Had a good nap?" He murmured, his breath tickling your lips.

You blinked a few times, taking in the dimness of his car, and then the hooded eyes staring right into yours.

As if the reality of the situation just dawned on you, you startled, an incomprehensible protest fleeing your mouth. Your body seemed too weak to fight, however, and your mind wasn't in a much better place.

Jungkook buried his face in your neck when you jumped, brushing his nose along the smooth skin.

"Sorry, baby. I know you're tired, and we haven't seen each other in so long—" he whispered. "I've been going crazy without you."

You shivered promptly, your brain still muddled and heart thumping in your chest. You had no idea what was going on, and you were afraid to find out. Pride out the window, there was no denying that fact.

"But that's why tonight's a special occasion," Jungkook continued, still whispering. He lifted his head, the tip of his nose bumping into yours. "You know I'd do anything for you. Tonight I need you to do something for me."

You swallowed thickly. You wished you had the energy to slap him, kick him, bite him; but you felt too heavy.

"Go to hell," was all you managed, raspy and weak.

Jungkook chuckled. The sound made your blood boil. Fighting back only ever seemed to encourage his depraved nature, and it was humiliating, somehow, if not utterly discouraging.

"Hell is wherever I have to live without you," he mumbled into your cheek, "and trust me when I tell you, baby, you're never getting away from me again."

Your stomach sank, reaching depths you had no idea were possible. You watched him slip away from you to get out of the car, and the cold air that poured in wasn't the only reason your legs started shaking.

Like a gentleman, he reached for your hand and helped you out, most likely aware of how weak your knees felt. He steadied you against the door, letting you take in the dense woods surrounding you, the grim sight of empty branches twisting into the autumn sky.

You tried not to let the worst scenarios flood your head, yet it was a difficult wave to hold off; and impossible to run from.

"Where are we?"

Jungkook reached into his pocket.

"Out of town, little doe."

A glimmer of silver among the dark scenery caught your attention. You found yourself going rigid, staring at the shovel laying on the damp ground.

A click had your head snapping down. The barrel of a gun brushed against your hip, tender, like a lover's touch.

"Wanna get to work?"

The world tilted off its axis, your blood running cold, ice as blue as your veins.

You were going to die.

There was a small part of you that seemed to crack at the thought, prompting tears to burn your eyes. It wanted you to cry, plead him to stop and just take you home, to bed, so you could sleep it all away.

Yet a bigger part of you felt somewhat betrayed. He touched something dark inside of you, fed it until it bloomed, and now that you were so damaged he wanted you six feet under?

Jungkook bit his lip, a meek attempt at holding back a smile.

"Don't look at me like that. Not every girl gets to dig her own grave, you know. I even bought you flowers."

Still and silent as a statue, you didn't answer. The lump in your throat was too thick, the static in your head growing louder.

Jungkook leaned in, his gun languidly caressing your hip and plush lips teasing your ear.

"Here's your noose, baby. Are you ready for it?"

Your noose...

Were you supposed to trust him with it?

You were walking forward before you realized it, fists clenched and steps unsteady. You could have spent hours running through the woods, and you still wouldn't be able to escape him. Whether this was a sick game or your last night breathing, there was no denying that fact, either.

"You know what?" you snapped, grabbing the shovel, "I would rather die than spend another minute here with you."

You still tried to blink your tears away, refusing to give him the satisfaction, the last shreds of your dignity. You shoved the sharp edge of the tool into the earth, your vision blurred.

"I would rather die than ever see you again."

You were too busy throwing away the dirt, then digging in to gather more, to notice the way Jungkook's jaw tensed.

"I would rather be in the ground, than be around a psycho freak like you!"

The louder your voice rose, the more your throat ached, tears spilling over despite all your efforts. You continued to dig, completely disregarding seeing Jungkook walking towards you.

"Wow. I would watch your mouth if I were you, honey," he warned lowly, stopping a few inches behind you.

The shovel struck the earth again, a chill crawling down your spine.

"Ever gotten off to snuff porn?"

You froze, wide eyes staring into the ruined ground before you.

Jungkook ran his finger down your back, making you shiver.

"Well, I haven't. But I might start soon, with my personal little movie star, if you're not gonna be a good fucking girl."

The implication had your mouth instantly shut. You couldn't bear to turn around and look at him, or even run. Rooted to the place you stood in, withering away, like the trees that trapped you.

Jungkook snaked his arms around your waist, the gun still in his hand, flat against your abdomen.

"I don't like it when you lie, baby," he muttered, placing a kiss on your neck.

Your head was spinning strangely, shallow breaths leaving your lungs.

"Bet your pussy's wet. Probably been wet since I grabbed you. Bet it's clenching right now and you can't stand it, so you choose to be a fucking bitch... As always."

He kissed your neck once more, hot and breathy against your skin. Your knees almost buckled.

"You're so fucking dirty. Do you want me to snuff you out? Hmm?"

It was disgusting, the filth he spouted, the way he pressed himself closer to you, hard beneath his jeans. The way your tummy churned was worse, heat radiating on your skin despite the insistent brushes of the frigid wind.

"Want me to fuck you into that grave?"

You couldn't stop the tears, silent and hot, flowing in tandem with the slick sticking to your underwear. You still felt drugged out, your outburst doing nothing but leaving you hollow. Tiredness was beginning to take over, numbness spreading through your bones.

Maybe Jungkook was right. You were no better than him; aggression remaining your only self defense when you were left vulnerable. But now that it has faded, a quiet, devastating acceptance was starting to settle in.

You hated him — because you hated yourself. You wanted to be normal, to heal from the things that broke you. And every attempt ended in failure. Instead of encouraging you to try again, or critizing, Jungkook was the only person who wanted you as you were. In pieces.

He didn't mind getting cut on the shards. In fact, it seemed he'd be ecstatic to bleed for you, offer you everything he had. Toxic and twisted, no end to his devotion.

"Keep digging," he said hoarsely, then took a step back.

Like he was trying to stay in control.

You obeyed, sniffling quietly as you bent down to pick up the shovel.

He told you once that not everyone was made for this world; and you clearly weren't, but that was okay... because you were made for him. That you could keep trying to fit in and keep failing if you wanted — or let him in.

You didn't, and he crept inside anyway; a tender violence.

At this point, you didn't care much if you died or not. At least everything would be over. In the end, you didn't have much to wake up for.

Jungkook lit up a cigarette. He drank in the sight of sweat shining on your skin in the dim light of the moon, the shift in your demeanor as you continued digging.

"Easy," he called, blowing out smoke. "Don't hurt yourself, darling. That's my job. It doesn't need to be that deep."

You ignored him, no longer in the mood to talk. Or to provoke him any further, for that matter. Your arms almost trembled as the hole in the ground grew deeper, whether from strain or nerves, it was hard to tell. The thought of your body laying in the dirt, cold and forgotten, felt both unsettling and peaceful. As though nothing mattered anymore.

Jungkook watched you struggle, fingers stiff around the shovel, and yet you kept going, the scattered pile of dirt behind you increasing. He was pissed off, but finishing his cigarette soothed the fire, while noting how pale you've begun to turn put it out altogether.

He threw the bud away and jumped off the hood of his car to make his way towards you. His hand settled on your waist, pulling you up, while the other took a hold of the shovel.

"That's enough," he murmured, dropping it aside with a small thump. "Good girl."

You let yourself melt into death's arms.

Your head lolled to the side, exposing the expanse of your neck, unconsciously giving Jungkook the access he wanted. He kissed the tender flesh, squeezing your hips, still hard and hot beneath his jeans.

"The end is always a new beginning, baby."

You sighed, mascara wet and heavy on your lashes. Gently, Jungkook turned you around to face him, wiping the dark streaks from your face.

"I love you so much," he breathed into your lips.

His body was solid against yours. Your only source of warmth. Dizzy, you barely had the chance to glance up at him before he kissed you, swallowing your shaky exhale.

You let out a mellow squeal when his hands traveled down your legs, gripping your thighs to lift you with ease. For the first time you found yourself clinging to him, kissing him back with equal hunger instead of denial. You wanted to forget the world around you, the grave you've dug for yourself, much earlier than tonight.

Jungkook took a step, then another, before giving up entirely and lowering you down beside it, disconnecting your lips from his only the moment he hovered above you.

Pupils blown out, inky hair messy, he cupped your cheek, his heart thumping right against yours.

"Are you scared?" He asked softly, his thumb still wiping at your tears.

You stared up at him, trying to hold on to reality, but as always, your grip was slipping, and he was the only lifeline you had left. He stirred up the muddy waters in your heart, agitated the unbridled, starving things within their depths.

"Is this a punishment?" you found yourself uttering, barely a whisper.

Jungkook cocked his head to the side, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips.

"Mm, not really. Just a little game, to end all the others. And start something new."

You didn't know what to think or feel anymore, your hair splayed out on the ground, so cold beneath you, Jungkook's heat bleeding into your skin from above, and the world spinning.

You smacked his arm when he dipped down to mouth at your neck again; drained, the distorted hands under the water still reaching to pull him under with the remnants of your anger. He laughed, as though he found it adorable, immediately grabbing your face to kiss you again.

He didn't hesitate for a second, unzipping his jeans with one hand, and you could feel your core quiver against your better judgement. It was surprising to find that there was still some clarity left in you; or maybe it was easier to make peace with death than with the fact that you were your own traitor.

"Want me to fuck you in it?" Jungkook breathed, forcing your thighs apart.

You couldn't help the way your gaze fell down to his inked hand, wrapped around his cock. He tapped it against your inner thigh impatiently, precum wetting your skin. You clenched around thin air, spine tingling.

"The grave," he clarified, smirking.

The words finally hit you, and you shook your head, your hands frantically pushing at his chest.

"No!" you cried out, nails almost slashing the skin of his neck.

Jungkook grunted, pushing back, leaning his entire weight on you to put an end on your antics. Your breath hitched when you felt his fingers dip inside your underwear, pulling it aside abruptly. He didn't comment on how drenched the flimsy material was. The moment you were exposed, he was pushing inside you, incapable of focusing on anything but the warmth of your cunt.

The small hole stretched so nicely to accommodate him, fluttering around his cock. He groaned into your mouth, and your thighs shuddered around him, a restless heat boiling deep in your gut.

"You're so wet," he moaned, pulling back to feel the ring of muscles clench against his flushed tip, trying to suck him back in.

He shivered at the feeling, then proceeded to fuck himself in and out of you like he needed; like you both did. Hard.

"You're a filthy fucking minx, I shouldn't ask you anything unless I'm inside you. Your pussy won't lie to me, hm?"

Despite the whines he coaxed out of your throat, you shook your head, every wet slap of his cock thrusting in and out echoing through the woods. Imprinting on your brain.

"Oh yeah? How about we rewind a little, baby?"

He fucked you faster, angling his hips to find that little spot that made your mouth fall open. He wasn't going to go easy on it, or on you, chasing the high.

"What's gotten you so soaked?" He managed, panting. "Did you like the thought of me snuffing you out?"

Cheeks aflame, a choked out protest; and yet your pussy was getting tighter, soaking the thick grith pounding into it.

Jungkook let out a sound akin to a whimper, eyebrows scrunching.

"Fuck, I know you did," he leaned his forehead on yours, feeling his cock throb. "I know how much you want my cum, screaming or dead or asleep. And if I could live without you, baby, I'd do it for you, keep you so full of me."

A revolting insinuation; but you couldn't tell the difference between nausea and an approaching orgasm making your stomach twist.

Jungkook's lips inched towards yours, a deep groan rumbling out.

"That's it. Let it go. Let it all go, angel."

This was the way he wanted you to fall apart; on his big cock, tasting the kind of euphoria nothing and no one but him could offer. He felt his balls tighten, heavy as they slammed against you, almost ready to spill everything he had.

"Mhmm—" a sigh, a pause, hips grinding as his hand clutched your neck, feeling your pulse jump. "Yeah."

A drop of sweat slipped down his temple. Beautiful, with a mouth that dripped depravity, he might as well have had two horns growing out of his head, a forked tongue hidden under the illusion of humanity.

He resumed his ruthless pace, unwilling to let you look away, dissociate from him. In fact, the way you squirmed under him, succumbing to the rush, pliant and loud as you cried, had him choking you harder, crushing the rest of your pride.

"Close?" He bit down on your lower lip, pulling on it. "What do you think your friends would say if they saw you like this?" He husked, his hand crawling up your chest. "Getting fucked out in the woods... by your stalker. Do you think they would be surprised?"

He fondled you over the soft material of the dress, focused on nothing but pumping you full of him. You felt like heaven, and your tight little cunt responded to his words, even if you didn't want to, fluttering and releasing more slick.

"They shouldn't be," he swallowed harshly, watching your eyes fall closed. "They don't know you at all. Don't know how much you like this cock forcing you open."

For the first time that night, it was clear that your thighs weren't trembling from fear. That greedy pussy wasn't letting him go, and Jungkook was tipping towards the edge, no filter on his thoughts anymore.

"But I know," his head fell into your neck, a hot mumble striking your skin. "You're such a good girl, such a good fucking girl, and such a dirty fucking whore, just for me— aaahhh, fuck."

There it was; his favorite way of getting to you. Kissing, biting and licking at your monsters until they'd submit, recognizing him as one of their own. His cock liked it too, the way you fell to pieces under him, back arched and hands digging into his shoulders.

"I feel you, baby," he groaned, "knew you'd cream my cock. That's all you can think about, isn't it?"

You whimpered, delirious, though it still sounded like a 'no', a cute, little lie to ward off your guilt. For some reason, it turned Jungkook on more. He lifted his head and sucked at your lower lip, rutted into you harder.

"Go on, baby," he breathed, "cream it. No need to be shy, you're already mine."

A trail of sloppy, possessive kisses marked your neck, electricity trickling through your spine.

"My prettiest baby, my only girl," Jungkook babbled drunkenly. "Go on, do it for me. Yeah..."

Eyes dark, locking on yours, his voice lowering to a shaky whisper.

"Come on your rapist's cock."

You unraveled like his word was holy, clamping down on him and ripping a hoarse moan out of his throat. He fucked you through it anyway, too close to the edge to stop his own fall; his cock throbbed, long spurts of hot cum filling your ruined hole, so deep and so good his eyes rolled back.

He swore filthily, knees like cotton and his hand digging into your throat, staking his claim, the rush too sweet not to let it linger. It flowed through his entire body, pulsing and warm, like the sun. It flowed through yours too, imploding, and wiping out the rest of existence. As far as you were aware, Jungkook was all that was left.

You didn't feel anything else; not the passage of time, nor the cold air grazing your arms. Only his lips, leaving kiss after kiss on your face, muttering praises you could barely make out with your mind numbed out.

You weren't sure how long you've spent laying there, his cum leaking out of you, bones like jelly and skin sticky. At last floating in the dark, like fog, and still being kissed all over, your flesh existing only where his lips touched.

By the time he pulled you up, you didn't have the capacity to wonder what was going to happen next.

So why were you crying again?

You even didn't notice until Jungkook sat you on the hood of his car, cupping your cheeks.

"No more, baby," he pleaded. "Relax. I've got you."

You were so tired.

You wished you could lie down and sleep, but Jungkook reached for the hem of your dress, inching it up.

"I'm gonna need this."

Your heart flipped. Still, you were too out of it to protest or ask why.

Goosebumps flooded your skin as he took the clothing off you, gently, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

As if shutting down, you stayed there; once again, unmoving. You listened to the trunk pop open, stuck on the odd rustling sound that followed. A loud thud came, making you flinch.

Then, more rustling.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jungkook dragging something towards you, a faint, unpleasant smell of blood reaching your nose.

Your stomach turned.

You stared at the bag, and he stared at you, unceremoniously dropping your dress on the wrapped up corpse.

Perhaps it was the way you gasped that had him reaching out, the same hands that took a life massaging your bare sides to comfort you.

"Close your eyes for the next part, baby," he whispered.

His nose brushed against yours. You felt your lower lip tremble, but still did as he asked.

"Good girl," he praised.

Frowning, you attempted to make some sense of what was happening, attempted to keep your heart from jumping to your throat.

It did anyway.

Sensing your distress, Jungkook kissed your lips.

"Remember a girl called Jia?"

No more pounding, or skipping beats. Everything seemed to come to a halt, including your heart.

Jungkook squeezed your waist. His voice remained quiet, a ghost in the wind.

"Not a pretty sight."

Inhale.

Exhale.

He took a hold of your trembling hand, leaving a loving kiss on each knuckle.

"Tonight, you die, baby," he murmured, the next kiss landing on your temple. "And nothing bad will ever happen to you again. Just you and me, yeah?"

The tears that fell were different now. Something broke. But it felt like release.

The soothing warmth of his hands vanished, and you kept your eyes closed. Even as the bag rustled and the stench got worse, even as another thud echoed through the empty woods.

How did he know?

Somehow, it still surprised you. Somehow, you couldn't bear to disobey him as he filled the grave you dug up, burying the biggest nightmare of your past. The so called family that had torn your life and soul apart.

There was no doubt in your mind that if he found her, he found him, too.

You listened to the metal dig into the earth again, dirt gathering on top of her corpse. Clad in your dress, butchered, rendering her unrecognizable. Teeth, face, hands — ruined. Jungkook had thought of everything, it seemed. A perfect crime.

The only traces of DNA left? Yours. Whatever still lingered on that little black dress.

As of tonight...

You were were dead.

Jungkook threw the shovel away, huffing, then made his way back towards the car. He heaved a sigh and pulled you in, held you close, sheltering you from the rest of the world.

Your fingers wrapped around the fabric of his sleeve, squeezing.

He acknowledged the gesture by kissing the top of your head, eyes closed. There was no rush, really, besides the longing to finally take you home and get into bed to sleep.

No more games. No more pain.

The end was always a new beginning.

taglist 💌: @baalsgurl1913 @httpsbts @hoseokshobagi @pynkgothicka @ar14dna @sweetempathprunetree @blueberryarchive @messyjk @themochiverse @minyoongiboongi @chimmisbae @crisle19 @bangtans-momma @get-that-brain-working @babycandy111 @mother2monsters @whipwhoops @svnbangtansworld @ane102 @stellalovesstarss @jksteponme @httpjeonlicious

[tsxkkis]

# tsukishima kei - unbothered

a/n = ahhh, new account new beginnings (honestly, i haven't written anything in so long idk if it's good at all T-T)

summary = tsukishima accidentally reveals your relationship in front of the karasuno boys.

warnings = yamamoto hitting on you, nothing else i guess?

tsukishima tried to stay composed, but it was so hard.

back at the very beginning of your relationship, which was going strong for the last two months, both of you had agreed upon keeping it a secret from the rest of the team. the reason was simple. tsukishima valued his privacy, and that meant the less his teammates know, the better. if they ever found out he's dating someone, they probably wouldn't let him live; tanaka and nishinoya definitely being the first ones to do so.

especially, if they found out his dating their manager.

you being karasuno's manager definitely came with its perks; the two of you could spend a lot of time without it seeming suspicious, you could watch his games from up close and, aside from all that, you've made some great friends along the way. but there were also some downsides. and one of those was surely being hit on by other volleyball teams.

the nekoma volleyball team arrived around an hour earlier than it was expected for their sparring game. and since that very moment tsukishima had to deal with a certain second year ace shamelessly hitting on his girlfriend.

"she seems quite uncomfortable right now." yamaguchi pointed out, appearing next to tsukishima out of nowhere. the blonde boy was very aware of it, and it drove him crazy. he tried to seem unbothered though, only murmuring a quick 'yeah' as an answer.

you could feel tsukishima's stare burning into yamamoto's back as he tried flirting with you, walking after you around the whole practice room while you tried to do your patch of manager duties. you tried to brush him off, but the guy seemed not to see the signs. from one point of view, it was quite funny; but it wasn't as funny when you realized that meant he would probably hit on you for nekoma's whole stay here. and to your disappointment, the time seemed to fly painfully slow.

tsukishima observed the two of you as you finished preparing water bottles for the team, which meant you've successfully checked off all of the things from your manager to-do list. as you tried walking away from yamamoto, heading to the exit to get some fresh air, the bleached blonde cornered you, making you stuck between him and the wall, his face too close to yours for your liking. it didn't help that no one in the whole gym seemed to notice that something was happening.

no one except tsukishima, of course.

the blonde boy rushed over to you two without a second thought, grabbing yamamoto's arm roughly as he dragged the boy away, an almost angry look painted on his face.

"i would suggest you don't flirt with my girlfriend. ever again." he said, annoyance clear in his voice as he glared at the older boy, making sure to emphasize those two important words.

my girlfriend.

he left the boy standing with a shocked look on her face as he turned to face you, his expression immediately changing to a softer, gentle one.

"you okay, idiot?" he asked, a smile appearing on his face for just a mere second, but still long enough for you to catch it. you gave him a small nod in response.

"i didn't think you'd react at all." you said, tilting your head as you looked at him, a smile appearing on your face. "especially like that. you know all the boys are staring at us right now, right?"

oh. oh.

tsukishima forgot about that. he was too focused on you to remember that they weren't alone.

the entirety of karasuno's volleyball team was here, staring at him with utter shock on their faces from the moment he addressed you as his girlfriend. everything he's been hiding so well for the past two months was not a secret anymore. he did the only thing he could think of at the moment; grab your hand and quickly head out of the gym, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink, much to his annoyance.

once the two of you stood in front of the building, tsukishima tried to seem unbothered by the fact he just unveiled your relationship in the stupidest way possible, but it was clear to you that he was fazed by the whole situation from the tiny details on his face, that were different to his usual expression.

"don't worry about that, tsukki" you said, patting him lightly on the shoulder. "i'm sure they won't be too dramati-"

"I WON THE BET! PAY ME UP, ASAHI!"

the two of you turned your head towards the opened door, the screaming from the inside catching you mid sentence. you immediately recognized it to be tanaka; who was now jumping around his older teammate in excitement.

"or maybe they will be dramatic." you said, a giggle escaping your mouth at the image in front of you. tsukishima let out a sigh, clearly annoyed with the behavior he just witnessed.

"they're acting like five year olds. tsk." he stated, rolling his eyes as nishinoya and hinata joined tanaka on nagging their ace. "i can't believe those idiots are my teammates."

"well, at least now we don't have to be pretending in front of them." you said, a smile on your face as you turned to look at tsukishima again. "give them two weeks, and they'll put their excitement on something else."

tsukishima knew you were right, buy it still wasn't as comforting as he thought it would be.

"this will be the worst two weeks of my life."

[tsumuus]

crushing on you | pretty setters i.

a/n short headcanons on if the pretty setters had a crush on you. only my fav three so far, will do the other three soon

characters atsumu miya, toru oikawa, keiji akaashi

masterlist

atsumu miya

you and atsumu had been friends since middle school

you were always one of his closest friends

someone he could rely on and have fun w no matter what

it wasn't until high school that he started to notice his feelings shift

he started to become more competitive around you

showing off 24/7

constantly teasing you

using humor to mask his feelings towards you

however he gets very noticeablely flustered if you tease him back

he starts becoming more attentive to your needs

offering to carry your things from time to time

but he does it in a way that seems so casual idek how

his eyes light up whenever you enter the room

he texts you a lot

usually nothing with to much meaning, he just looks for any excuse to talk to you

he invites you to all his games

he sits with you and your friends during lunch pretty frequently

but often gets lost in conversation with you that you two forget your friends are there too

he struggles with his feelings for months

not sure how to deal with em

hes so used to being confident, but this feeling is new to him

he confides in osamu first

osamu is quick to tease but gives him solid advice

just urging 'tsumu to be honest with you

toru oikawa

the two of you met during your first year

instantly clicking

like yall have the same humor and interests

he initially just saw you as a friend

but over time that changed

it was when he finally noticed how different you were from everyone else in his life

like your support and genuine care for him made him see you in a new light

he's more charming and filrty than he was in the beginning of your friendship

like he still has his usual playful demeanor but its accompanied by a hint of nervousness

he tries to impress you all the time

always looking at you to see your reaction towards anything he does

super protective of you

always checking in on you and stepping in if anyone bothers you

hes always finding excuses to be near you

whether its walking you to class of hanging out after practice

he sends you goodmorning and goodnight texts fs

along with random messages throughout the day

loves taking selfies with you

using it as an excuse to be close and capture moments together

he keeps his feelings hidden for a long time

afraid of ruining your friendship and appearing vulnerable

if he were to ask someone for advice it would likely be Iwaizumi

maybe even his sister

they'd both give him a reality check and encourage him to be honest to you about his feelings

keiji akaashi

you and akaashi have been friends since childhood

growing up in the same neighborhood and attending the same schools

hes always admired you for your kindness and intelligence

but he didn't realize his feelings were more than platonic until high school

he's always been attentive

but since he's realized his feelings, he starts to notice the little things about you

remembering details you mention, all the little facts about you and yoru life, etc.

he offers to help you with homework and projects

as an excuse to spend more time with you

he's known for his calm and compsed demeanor

but whenever he's around you

he becomes softer

smiling more often and showing a more gentle side of him

he likes to walk you home from school whenever he can

enjoying the quiet moments and your company

he writes you thoughtful notes and occasionally leaves small gifts

like your favorite snacks or books he thinks you'd like

gives you his full attention on everything

listening intently whenever you talk

offering the best advice or support when you need it

he keeps his feelings to himself for a long time

he fears being rejected and doesn't want to risk losing you as a friend

he eventually confides in bokuto

who is super enthusiastic when he tells akaashi to just go for it (he's seen the way you look at akaashi whenever he stops by akaashis class during lunch)

[tange-my-rine]

saying something stupid (like I love you) || Tangerine × gn!reader

Summary: With Lemon's guidance, you take the initiative and confess to Tangerine. He kept saying he felt the same, and wouldn't shut up until you did it. So, in a moment of weakness, you told him. You kind of knew what to expect: either reciprocation or rejection. Easy. But when Tangerine instead physically runs away from you, you have to admit you weren't expecting that.

TW: angsty (with a happy ending), crying, cursing (it's Tangerine), and avoidance (Tangerine is really bad at feelings, what can I say).

[[A/N: yes this is based off that one song. It's so GOODDD. And also something Tangerine would totally do. Peep the Little Women reference. Enjoy :)]]

"C'mon," Lemon urged, "-'s not 'at hard, mate."

You rolled your eyes, absent-mindedly chewing the inside of your cheek, "You say that as if you've ever been in a relationship. Ever."

You had known the twins since middle school (probably), both raised with shitty parents and even shittier lives. When you saw them for the first time swindling a boy out of his money in a go-fish game, you essentially blackmailed them.

('If I don't get a share, I'm telling the teacher.')

You actually even knew their names, and them yours, but you preferred the codenames -you were the one to come up with them afterall.

Tangerine almost popped a blood vessel when you met that day, but Lemon smiled big and bright and pulled a five out of his brother’s hand. You and Lemon were fast friends after that; Tangerine took a lot more time.

That being said, when you were finally friends -near high school, he started to... fill out his form. Naturally, being close to someone who is handsome, you find yourself in... certain states of mind. And what started as a little crush your senior year, snowballed to now.

Where you were in love with him.

You probably told Lemon after a few years of it not going away. But, you'd find that every day after you'd regret that decision.

"Sally Jones," Lemon offered up, seemingly in defense of himself.

You scoffed, "The girl you dated for a month?"

He nodded his head.

"You didn't even like her," you clarified, "-you liked that she had cable so you could watch your fucking trains."

"So?"

"So-" you said a little loudly, turning to the bedroom where Tangerine slept and drastically lowering your voice at the distinct absence of shuffling, "-Lemon. We have been best friends since we were kids, that's... That's a lot to mess up because I'm... because I have feelings."

"What so-" Lemon starts, "What if he gets married one day? What are goin' to do? Just... Just fuckin' bury it down?"

"First off, he's too much of a dick to get married, secondly-" you paused, letting out a big sigh -something in your chest twisting, "-yeah. I mean, it's what I've done for all of these years, isn't it?"

He frowned for a minute, hand finding its place on your shoulder, "You ever think ya deserve to get it off your chest? 'At maybe you deserve the happiness it'll give ya?"

"Might give me," you corrected.

"Look, I know my brother," Lemon argued, brown eyes layered onto yours, "-and I know he's been fuckin' crazy about you since you stole that fuckin' five dollars on the playground."

"I didn't steal it," you clarified, a little defensively "-we made a deal. We negotiated-"

"Y/N," he refocused, "-I just wanna see the two of ya happy, yeah?"

"I know," you spoke, softer, "-I know, Lemon."

Before another word could be spoken and it really seemed like Lemon wanted to, Tangerine stepped into the living room -hair still sleep-mussed, and clothes far more casual than what he'd wear normally. Not that it was new to you, but it still made your heart flutter a little.

"You 'avin' a fuckin' pow wow without me?"

"Morning, sunshine," you smiled with a sing-songy tone.

"Fuck you," Tangerine muttered (a tiny little smile quirked onto his lips), before slinking off into the kitchen -most likely in search of coffee.

When you stayed seated, eyes flickering over whatever reality TV show was on -Lemon nearly burned a whole in your side.

'What?!' you mouthed, exasperated.

He was wordless, brown eyes darting from you to the kitchen -a few times in a row actually.

'Now?' you mouthed back.

'The sooner the fuckin' better,' Lemon mouthed back, shoving you further down the couch.

Well, you debated to yourself, it would get him off your back, and that would be nice.

But, you didn't feel so scared then -not like all the years prior. It was like something... something had shifted in you and you just wanted it done.

Shit, you thought, maybe it is time.

You took a deep breath in and with raised hands (in mock surrender), stood up.

'Fine.'

Lemon seemed taken aback a moment, shock, like he'd never actually expected you to cave; to be fair, you were a little surprised too. But... you were tired, and if heartbreak was to come of it -you wanted to get it over with now.

'But if he doesn't...' you mouthed, '-you owe me everything in your wallet.'

He neatly nodded in agreement.

You swallowed, squeezing your hands together and with the timidness of a doe, entered the kitchen.

The kitchen in the apartment was small, but modern-looking. It was all sleek metal and plain colored cabinets, looked like something out of a magazine. That being said, Tangerine fit right in.

Your eyes unwillingly went to his hair, the unkempt curls, and you briefly wondered if they felt soft.

"Hey, Tan?" you echoed out -trying to keep your voice level and calm.

He held up a finger -as if to say 'one moment', before fidgeting with his coffee. He took it basically black so it didn't take him too long to do so. Just a dash of both sugar and milk, he spun around to look at you.

You supposed you hadn't thought about the idea that he had to be looking at you while you said it. His eyes were always so... bright and distracting -you could hardly handle it when he looked at you so intensely on a regular day. How could you do that today? Right now?

You cleared your throat, wringing your hands together, "I, um, I need to tell you something."

Tangerine pursed his lips, looking you over -leaning slightly on the counter with his cup in his hand. His eyes dashed over yours with a curious sort of question there -scanning over you like he was trying to figure out just what it was.

"Ya alright, love?"

You blinked, trying to clear your head, and opening your mouth to respond. In what way, you weren't sure but any at all sounded good-

"Get fuckin' on with it, mate," Lemon yelled out from the living room -apparently hearing everything in here he could.

Tangerine was just looking at you -blue eyes just looking.

Something in you snapped.

"Jesus Christ, fine, Lemon," you hissed in frustration -words coming out before you could stop them, "-Tangerine, I'm in love with you."

Tangerine froze.

You weren't even sure he was breathing.

"Tangerine," you stepped forward, concerned, "-are you okay?"

Before you could so much as touch him though, he, without a word, beelined out of the kitchen. So fast you were left reeling in his dust, blinking a little deliriously.

You instantly spun around your heels and rushed to the living room -just in time to see Tangerine swipe the keys (the car keys) off of the little table near the door and promptly leave the apartment.

The sound of the door slamming shut echoed into your mind -like a pin dropping into silence.

Something swirling up into your chest, you swallowed -something heavy on your tongue and even heavier on your heart. You blankly stared at the door, like if you wished hard enough he'd come back and tell you he loved you. That all of it had just been a gut reaction.

After a few minutes, that did not happen.

"Lemon...?" You croaked out, eyes suddenly blurry and heart pounding in your chest -had you really just ruined it all?

"Lemon-" you let out a breath and it somehow turned into a sob. It felt like your chest had been cracked open and your heart crushed to dust.

God, you'd lost him. You fucking lost your best friend because you decided to be stupid and fall in love with him-

You don't know when you fell to the floor, crying, but you do remember Lemon rushing over to you -brown eyes guilty and somewhat confused.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He kept repeating it, over and over, but all you could see in your head was Tangerine frozen and all you could feel was a loss. You were grieving him, there was no way anything could go back to normal-

You'd have to get separate jobs, live on your own-

"I'm not leavin' you," Lemon said suddenly, and you realized you must've been muttering, "-My brother can shove 'at idea up his arse."

Without another breath, you pushed yourself into his arms -wrapped around him into a hug.

"Liked you much better anyway," he muttered, and there was a laugh that burst through your chest.

You and Lemon ended up staying at that apartment for about three more days, waiting to see if Tangerine would return. All of his clothes were here, and you weren't entirely sure he even had his wallet in his pajamas -but he didn't show back up.

Not that he hadn't been in contact, Lemon had been both answering and not answering phone calls from him almost by the hour. He always ran to another room to answer them though, and you respected the privacy -it's not like you wanted to hear from Tangerine anyway.

Even though he was your friend and you were worried, you knew it best not to talk to him.

"You're a fuckin' idiot, mate," Lemon hissed out -bitter and disapproving, "-none of it makes any fuckin' sense, I swear you were-"

There was silence for a minute, you assumed Tangerine interrupted him.

"Are you really fuckin' serious with me right now?" Came back with a much harsher sentiment and the tone of it chilled you to the bone -Lemon was mad.

Which you'd really only seen once or twice, in grade school, either when someone picked on you and you cried (both boys reacted similarly to that) or when someone, unprompted, hurt Tangerine.

You were suddenly flashed back to your senior prom when a guy had asked you but it had all turned out to be some joke. 'He's fuckin' stupid not to like you, love,' rang through your head -familiar blue eyes and arm wrapped solidly around you pulled you into his side, '-doesn't deserve you anyway.'

There was a bitter taste in your mouth.

Lemon pulled you out of your thoughts, "What were 'ey supposed to think, mate? That you were so joyous you couldn't stay fuckin' still?!"

You rubbed your hands up and down your arms, mindlessly packing your bag. The next piece made you stutter to a stop. Hands lingering on a long-sleeved button-up, one you'd borrowed from Tangerine and he'd never asked for back, your heart sunk to the bottom of your chest.

No more crying, you thought.

With not a word, you took the fabric in your hands, leaving your room, and shoving it into Tangerine's bag.

You did stay in the room for a moment, breathing in the... Tangerine of it all.

And then, you left.

"No, no, mate," Lemon laughed, incredulously, "-I'm not doin' shit for you. You come 'ere and do damage control yourself."

You pulled your bag up on your shoulder, it was just a little duffle -you didn't carry much job to job, and trailed into the living room.

Lemon immediately straightened, cutting off Tangerine, "I've got to go, brother. I think you know 'at to do."

With the precise press of a finger, he hung up.

Letting out a big sigh, Lemon turned to you, "Let me get 'is stuff, and then we'll leave, yeah?"

And you did.

You're not sure what the last call was about, but after that one, he started calling you too.

Lemon had decided to cool off on the jobs, just visiting a few cities out of want -kind of treating it like a tourist. It was weird, but not unwelcome. One of those nights, it started.

You were eating on the couch, some sort of reality TV show distracting you with Lemon -when your phone vibrated on the coffee table. You unhesitatingly went to pick it up, eyes smoothing across the name-

'Tan 🍊'.

Staring at it for a moment in disbelief, you quickly declined and set your phone back on the coffee table.

He didn't call you again until late that night when Lemon was asleep in his room; you weren't asleep, to be fair, just staring up at the ceiling.

The name flickered across your screen, and with a little hesitation, you answered.

"What the hell do you want, Tan?"

He was silent for a minute, slow to respond -speaking a little in disbelief, "Hey, love."

"Tangerine, don't-" you started, something breaking in your voice -you cleared your throat, "-That's not fair."

"Love-"

"You're being mean," you echoed out, tone a little broken and weepy -it was all you could say.

He was silent for a long while then, almost exhausted, "I'm sorry."

"It feels like," and you could feel the tears bubbling up, "-it feels like when that stupid guy ditched me at prom," your voice got much quieter -a little pathetic but you didn’t care, "-but you're not here, Tan."

'I want you here,' went unsaid.

"I'm sorry," he repeated -but this time a little more dim.

"Don't you think I deserve to hear that in person?" You offered -swallowed back a sob, you were crying by now, just silent tears down your cheeks, "Don't you have any respect for me-"

"I never meant to-"

"Save it," you interrupted -tired and exhausted, "-I need to sleep."

Before he could say another word, you hung up.

And if you cried yourself to sleep that night, that was between you and the apartment walls.

He didn't stop after that night, calling you more than Lemon -he still answered. You didn't. You had nothing to say to him, until he decided to apologize, in person. Or even just come back at all. He couldn't run forever. No matter how much he didn't want to reject you, you needed to hear it.

Couldn't he understand that?

Because every day he didn't, there was a traitorous little part of you that held onto the hope that maybe he had just been overwhelmed. Maybe he just wasn't ready.

And that hurt more than anything else. That he wouldn't come to tell you otherwise, when you already knew it.

There were a few times he'd call you, and Lemon would call him back: 'Just leave 'em alone, mate.' And then, he'd disappear off into a room -ready to talk about whatever they did.

And then, about a month after the start of it all, you heard a knock on the door.

It was a normal day, where you and Lemon ate takeout and watched whatever show was on -which was often shitty. He didn't talk about Tangerine, so the conversations were more lighthearted -made you feel better.

But when you heard the door, you froze.

Lemon seemed to be looking for your reaction, brown eyes darting all over your face. And for a moment, you were relieved that he was okay but then your face settled into something strained.

You told him you loved him and he ran away. You didn't think it could get much worse than rejection, but it did.

Lemon took the look as a sign to gently rub your shoulder, comforting, before standing up and heading to the door.

Deciding to focus on the TV and eat, you did so. You only flinched when he swung open the door, and in quiet whispers, you heard his voice again. It felt like your whole world was crumbling, you thought you were ready for this -the rejection. But you still loved him so much-

You blinked away tears, determined not to let him see you cry. You wouldn't accept pity, not from him.

You knew his footfall, knew exactly where he stopped behind the couch and you even felt his hand come to clutch it right by your head. You ignored him.

"Y/N," he started and his voice seemed a little wrecked.

Not knowing entirely why (or maybe knowing exactly), you turned to meet him.

Tangerine was disheveled, hair messy like he'd been running his hand through it for days -which you knew he did when he was nervous, and his new suit messy. He did look a little like he'd been in a bar fight, and won. You also knew he did that when he needed some stress relief.

Was that why he was here? For refuge?

"I-"

You abruptly stood up, food falling from your lap, and somehow safely onto the couch, "I'm too tired for this."

Tangerine looked at you for a moment, and you thought it was a little desperate but you smushed the idea without hesitation.

This time, you were the one to run away from him.

You found immediate solace in your room, slinking against the door and breathing so quickly -your eyes fogged up. Needing something to do, you decided to unpack your bag.

Unwillingly, you heard a mutter of voices, and even Lemon's footfall as he disappeared into his room. Tangerine took a bit longer, but when you heard the door shut, you let out a long sigh of relief. Not tonight.

Before you could finish with your clothes though, you heard his steps again -slow and hesitant. You thought for a second that maybe he was leaving again, and something in your stomach twisted.

Instead, though, all you hear was them booming closer. You stilled.

You had the off thought to run over and lock it, but it was too late then. The door opened slowly like he wasn't sure if you were asleep. And you chastised yourself for not thinking of that.

When he opened it all the way, his eyes landed squarely on you. You waited for him to say something, anything, so you could shut him down and go to bed.

Instead, he simply extended his hand forward.

Your eyes darted to it, his hand clutching a shirt -the shirt you had shoved back into his bag. How did he even know it was different?

"Take it," he spoke, voice quiet.

"Tangerine," you countered, swallowing back the heaviness in your voice, "-that's yours."

"'S not," he explained, "-I fuckin' gave it to you."

"You let me borrow it," you clarified, tone wavering slightly, "-I'm just returning it."

"You didn't fuckin' borrow it-"

"Tangerine."

"Take the fuckin' shirt, love," he reiterated, "'s not mine anymore."

"Tangerine," you sighed out, "-can you not? It's late, and I'm tired-"

"It's your shirt," he interrupted, something in his eyes but you couldn't quite label it, "-take it, and I'll fuckin' leave you alone, yeah?"

"I'm not-" you exhaled, closing your eyes for a moment -trying to bat away the tears, the frustration, "-Tangerine, I don't want it."

"Well, I want you to fuckin' have it."

"Do you think about what I want?" you echoed, "-Ever?"

Tangerine opened his mouth, but you were on a roll now.

"I..." you laughed incredulously, looking up to stop your tears (you blinked them away), "-Tangerine, it's been a month."

He tried again, but you didn't let him.

"You. You left," you sniffled slightly, clearing your throat -prolonging the inevitable, "-Tangerine, I... I told you that I loved you and you ran away."

"Love," he started, small and barely there.

"Stop-" you swallowed, "-Don't call me that, it's not... it's not fair."

"How is it not fair?"

"You don't-" you groaned, swiping at your eyes -you were crying now, and out of the corner of your eye you saw his hand twitch (like he wanted to comfort you).

He stood in silence waiting, patient.

"Tangerine, why didn't you just tell me then?" You asked the question that bounced around your mind ever since he left.

"Fuckin' tell you what, love?"

You flinched, ever-so-slightly, at the name again -something twisting in your stomach, and squeezed your eyes shut. Breathing a big breath in through your nose, you started.

"That you don't love me," you clarified, and now your voice was shaking and your eyes were blurry, "You could've-"

Tangerine seemed to be processing something, a flicker in his eyes.

"You could've made it so much easier if you'd just-" you frustratingly wiped your eyes again, "-said that. But instead, you ran away, and all I could think about was what I had done wrong for you to-"

"You didn't do anythin' wrong."

"Then why didn't you just tell me the truth?" You practically begged, "-Why don't you tell me now? So I don't have to... So, I know."

"That's not..."

"Tangerine," he looked at you -and you but back a sob, "-I deserve the truth. Just say it. I know you're scared you'll hurt me, but I... I've survived worse."

"What makes ya think it'll hurt you?" He offered, and your heart in your chest started beating loudly -ringing in your ears.

"Because you ran away," you repeat, wiping at your eyes again, "-I think that makes the answer pretty clear."

"Y/N-"

"Just fucking reject me!" you exclaimed, not loud enough to bother neighbors but enough to bounce around the room (Lemon probably woke up to it), "-It's not that hard, Tan, you've practically done it before."

He seemed to flinch at that, grimace even, at the mention of what he'd done. You were glad he felt some kind of guilt. Still, he remained quiet.

"For the love of god, Tangerine-" you echoed out, shaky now and your heart on the floor -vulnerable, "-just say it. It's not that hard."

"I fuckin' can't," he finally answered -something bubbling up in his tone; his hands clenched by his sides -shirt still clutched between his fingers.

"Can't," you questioned, voice shaky and tears building in your eyes, "-or won't?"

"Can't," he reiterated.

"This is ridiculous, Tangerine," you whimpered -swallowing back a sob, "-you can't give me fucking peace?"

"Y/N-"

"Give me a reason," you interrupted, brash, "-give me the reason you can't reject me right here right now."

"It's not 'at fuckin' simple, love," he remarked, low in tone, but you could tell he was getting frustrated.

"Nothing ever is!" you reasoned, "-Just tell me, that's all I want."

"It's not..."

"Tangerine, please."

He swallowed, eyes dipping to yours -scanning over you with your no doubt red eyes and shaky hands. Like he was thinking, deciding on what to say. All you could see was reluctance.

He let out a big long sigh, fidgeting with his hands (and the shirt in the mix).

"Tangerine-"

"'S not how I feel."

You furrowed your brows, "What?"

"I can't..." he trailed off, eyes off you and flickering toward the ground, "-I can't reject you because it's not what I feel, love."

Your breathing halted in your chest. Heart twisting into something so complex, sad and angry and hopeful.

There's no way, he- Why the hell did he run away?

"That's not funny, Tangerine."

"It's not a fuckin' joke," he responded, eyes finally back on yours -and you tried to read them all you could.

"Stop, no," you echoed out, shaking your head, "-don't pity me, just tell me the truth-"

"I am," he reiterated.

"No you're not," you laughed incredulously, "-it makes no sense."

He pursed his lips, exhaling through his nose, "I was scared."

"That's not-" you started, before clearing your throat, "Do you not think I was scared? That I wasn't putting everything on the line to say that? I thought I was going to lose you and then I did-"

"You didn't lose me," he spoke, softer, "-you could never lose me, love."

"I did, Tan," you sniffled, "-I lost you."

"No-"

"Tangerine," you echoed, "-you left. And I thought, I thought that my best friend was gone. I thought that because I had stupid feelings I lost you. You ran away, Tan!"

"They aren't stupid," he responded and it seemed that he was deciding on whether to step closer -you took a preemptive step back.

"At least," you sighed out, voice cracking, "-at least you knew the truth, I... I didn't know shit. You could have never come back-"

"I did," he interrupted, "-I did come back, love. And I know I'm fuckin' stupid, Lemon has been drillin' it in my head for weeks. I regret walkin' out of 'at fuckin' room so much."

His eyes were shiny with tears now, as he stepped forward into your room -hands reaching forward like he'd wanted to touch you, but he stopped.

"How the hell am I supposed to believe you? What if you just-" you sniffled, "-run away again?"

"I won't," he spoke -unwavering, "-I swear on whatever fuckin' god is up there, 'at I won't do it again."

"I don't-" you whispered out, clutched at your arms.

"I never meant to hurt you, love," he echoed out, stepping closer, "-I fuckin' hate myself for doin' it. I will never fuckin' do it again."

"Tangerine, this isn't-"

"I'm fuckin' madly in love with you," he finished, laughing a little -slowly placing his hands on your arms. You didn't move away, and he seemed to smile at that, "-'ave been since we were kids, and you pulled 'at greedy shit on me."

"It wasn't greedy," you defended.

"Most certainly fuckin' was," he tsked back, moving one hand to your face -thumb wiping back and forth.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, but there was still something heavy in your stomach. Tossing like waves.

"I'm sorry," he said, finally, "-I got fuckin' scared and ran away. It wasn't fair to you, and-" his hand brushed against your cheek, "-I'd beat myself bloody senseless if I could."

You laughed at that for a moment, and his smile got a little wider.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" you asked, something clawing up your throat again.

He frowned, allowing his hand to fall to his side -sighing, "I'm a fuckin' coward, love."

You opened your mouth to say something, anything.

"You confessed to me and it was so fuckin' brave," he looked at you like you were the sun then, bright and warm, "-and I... I couldn't spit out a fuckin' word. I just went into autopilot and..."

"Ran away," you finished, swallowing.

"Yeah," he spoke, confirming, "-ran away."

Before you could hold your tongue, words slipped out, "That is pretty cowardly."

Tangerine laughed, a big one, and something in you warmed -a smile perking onto your lips.

"It is," he agreed, "-I'll give you fuckin' 'at."

And then he paused, eye flitting over you -seeming to detail all your features in his head. Tracing over your nose, your eyes, your eyebrows, your lips-

"Are we okay, love?"

It was soft and hopeful, and something in you softened -your hurt letting up just a smidge. It wasn't gone, not yet.

"Yeah, we're good," you hummed out, taking a hand and pushing a strand of hair behind his ear, "-but you have a lot to fix."

"I know," he hummed back, blue eyes soft and affectionate, "-I'll do it. Whatever you fuckin' want."

"Well," you smiled, so close to his face -merely a breath away, "-I think I've got my first idea."

"Do you?" He offered with a smirk, hands coming to hold the sides of your face.

"Yeah," you brought your hands up on top of his, "-kiss me, please."

Tangerine didn't hesitate after that, pulling you closer with the grasp of his hands -still somehow gentle. His mustache tickled your upper lip, and you laughed a little -a grin spreading along his own lips in response. And after, it was slow, languid, each press of the lips just a touch more desperate -like you were his oxygen. Fingers pressed into your skin, your head went a little fuzzy -fingers twisting around his palms.

Speaking of oxygen, you parted.

Before you could so much as say a word though, Tangerine pressed a small one to your lips -simple. You laughed a little.

And then again, and again, and again, and again-

"Tangerine-" you laughed out, "-I can't breathe."

"Fuckin' fine," he muttered, before taking a deep breath of his own.

And then the thought crossed your mind that he would leave eventually -go back to his room. Sleep. But, you had lost so much time. You didn't want him to leave yet.

"Tan?"

"Yeah, love?" He gave you all his attention, eyes focused on you.

You pursed your lips for a moment, "Will you sleep in here with me?"

Tangerine opened his mouth.

"I don't want you to leave yet," you clarified, hand loosely twisting around one of his own -held limply between the two of you.

"I don't want to leave either," he breathed out, "-ever, preferably."

You smiled, "Is that a yes then?"

"Oh," he laughed, "-love, 'at's much more than a yes."

[jamesdeniscouldnever]

A little blurb, cause cyberpunk is updating.

Soft Rolan x tav headcannons

So to start out, I think it goes without saying that the only people in his life he's soft for is Lia, Cal and, after much warming up and pining, Tav.

And on the note of pining, it's such a mix of his usual pissy self and ever so soft moments.

When they're having their usual moments it's a lot of teasing and rolan whining cause he wants tavs attention. ("You! Look at the new effect I've added to my Thunderwave! Tav. Tav! Look!") ("I love Lia and Cal more than my own life, but must they accompany us to the market every time? What do you mean you can go alone, no I'm coming with you.")

But those softer moments? The setting sun shining through the windows of the tower, Tav relaxing and playing a game of cards with Lia and Cal while Rolan reads one of his mant tomes?

And he just looks up at them and. Oh.

Oh he feels so content. His family is there, Tav included even if they aren't yet his family in the way he would LIKE (husband/wife ehem.)

You know the soft, pleased little "hmmm" he makes when you say you'll leave him to his study after killing lorroakin? That little sound embodies his true feelings for Tav.

Once they're in an established relationship its a whole different game. Man is WHIPPED but will vehemently deny it to anyone who pokes fun.

"Darling,you needn't spend so long cleaning that blade, I can help." "Dearest, I do hate when you come home bruised. And DON'T start on how it's okay, because it's not. How did you feel when you saw me bloodied and battered? Well, it's the same for me about you."Please, if not a healing potion, then let me use a spell, my muse."

*cough cough* "They're MY responsibility" *cough*

Well, now tav is too.

Behind closed doors, when the rest of the harsh world is no longer there to cause him ire or bolster his bitterness, he is a different man.

Soft whispered nothings, heads resting on shoulders, be it tavs on his or vice versa. Tail wrapped around their waist or wrist.

He strikes me as the type who would be fond of kissing the inside of their wrist or their tired hands.

Protective but also so so in need of protecting. We know the world has been unkind to him, that his birth family is not around for whatever reason. He would melt as proper care and affection.

Worry or being upset presents itself as anger from him, but once all is well and safe he will cling to Tav, whispering apologies and crying.

The first time he woke with his head resting on Tav's chest he nearly cried.

Overall he is, in his own right, so tender and gentle. When one manages to earn his heart, they've earned it in its entirety.

[pretzel-box]

Do you think you could do a autistic reader who got extremely overwhelmed after a encounter with Pandemonium (from the scream to the stressful attack). When they arrive to Sebastian shop, he immediately notices how shaken up their are to the point they just break down and unable to say a words when he ask if their are alright from how overwhelmed they are. So he try his best to reassure them (he not the best at it) and let them rest in him shop until they feel better from the terrified encounter.

Pandemonium is honestly the top reason why I just can’t play this game, even if I wish too.. 🥲

Tags: LOTS OF COMFORT, GN!reader, Sebastian being super supportive, Sea Bunny as a nickname!

Words: 1,4k

Authors Note: I feel that. People say the minigame is easy when you are calm but no. It's not. I suffer.

You stumbled into Sebastian's shop, barely holding yourself together. Your breaths were coming in shallow, rapid gasps, your hands shaking uncontrollably. The familiar dim light of the shop did little to calm your frazzled nerves. You could still hear the echo of Pandemonium’s scream in your ears, the sound of its body slamming against the locker you hid in. Your mind replayed the scene over and over, each impact rattling your core like it was happening all over again.

Sebastian looked up from his spot at the wall, behind a table, his three eyes narrowing with a hint of concern as he took in your state. "Hey," he called softly, his voice a low rumble, almost soothing in its roughness. “You alright, sea bunny?”

But you couldn’t respond. Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Your throat felt tight, your mind too overwhelmed to form a coherent thought. You wrapped your arms around yourself, hugging tight as if that could hold you together, keep you from falling apart right there on the floor.

Sebastian’s expression softened—a rare occurrence for the usually gruff shopkeeper. He could see the tears welling up in your eyes, the way your body trembled with each breath. He wasn’t good at this sort of thing, wasn’t used to dealing with… feelings. But he knew you were in distress. He knew enough to see that you needed help.

“Hey, hey,” he said, his voice dropping even lower, more gentle than you’d ever heard it. He rounded the counter, approaching you slowly, carefully, as if you were a spooked animal he didn’t want to startle further. “It’s okay. You’re safe now, alright?”

You still couldn’t speak, the words stuck in your throat like a stone. Tears spilled down your cheeks, and you tried to wipe them away with the back of your hand, but they just kept coming. Sebastian was right in front of you now, his towering presence strangely comforting in the midst of your breakdown. “Can I touch your shoulder?” You nodded at his question. He hesitated for a moment, then placed a tentative hand on your shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone so rough around the edges.

“You’re okay,” he repeated, his tone awkward, like he wasn’t sure what to say but knew he had to say something. “Just… breathe, alright? You’re safe here. I’ve got you.”

His words were a lifeline, something to hold onto amidst the storm raging in your mind. You tried to focus on his voice, his presence, grounding yourself in the here and now instead of the terrifying encounter you’d just escaped. His hand was warm on your shoulder, steadying you, keeping you from spiraling further into panic.

“Pandemonium got you, huh?” he guessed, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. He didn’t push for an answer, didn’t expect one. He just wanted you to know he understood. “That bastard’s a real piece of work. But he’s not here now. Just me. Just us.”

You nodded, a small, shaky movement, but it was something. It was all you could manage. Sebastian’s hand moved from your shoulder to the back of your neck, a light, comforting squeeze, almost like he’d seen others do and was trying his best to mimic it. “Take your time, sea bunny. You can stay here as long as you need.”

He led you over to a chair in the corner, guiding you down into it gently. You sank into the seat, your body feeling like dead weight. Sebastian crouched down in front of you, his three eyes focused on you, watching you carefully, making sure you were okay—or at least, as okay as you could be right now.

“I’ll get you some water,” he said, straightening up. “Just… sit tight, alright? You’re safe here.”

You nodded again, a little more firmly this time, and he turned away, heading to the back of the shop. The sound of him moving around, the clink of a glass, was a strange comfort. You were still shaking, still overwhelmed, but the panic was starting to ebb, replaced by exhaustion. Your muscles ached from the tension, your mind heavy and foggy.

Sebastian returned with a glass of water, pressing it into your hands. You took it, your fingers brushing against his, and he didn’t pull away immediately, lingering just a moment longer, his gaze steady on you.

“Drink,” he instructed softly. “It’ll help.”

You took a small sip, the cool liquid soothing your dry throat. Sebastian stayed close, watching you with an intensity that was almost unnerving, but also… comforting. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was here. And for now, that was enough.

“Thank you,” you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible, but it was the first words you’d spoken since you stumbled into the shop.

Sebastian’s lips twitched into a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Anytime, Sea bunny. Anytime.”

Sebastian watched you closely, his three eyes scanning your face for any sign that you were coming back to yourself. You were still shaking, your breaths still ragged and shallow, and he could see that you were still caught in the aftermath of the encounter with Pandemonium. He’d seen it before—people coming through his shop after running into that thing, looking just as lost and terrified as you did now. But you were different. You mattered.

“Hey,” Sebastian said softly, his voice gentle, almost coaxing. “Let’s try something, alright? It’s this… grounding thing. Helps when you’re feeling… y’know, like everything’s too much.”

You looked at him, eyes wide and teary, but you didn’t pull away. You were listening. That was something. He took that as a sign to continue.

“Okay,” he said, his voice calm and even. “Let’s start with five things you can see. Can you do that for me, Sea Bunny? Just… look around and tell me five things you can see.”

You blinked, trying to focus, your eyes darting around the shop. Your gaze landed on the shelves lined with strange trinkets and scavenged goods, the dim glow of a cracked lantern hanging from the ceiling, the worn leather of Sebastian’s jacket that still hung over your shoulders, he had placed it there a moment ago to keep you warm and secure.

“Shelves,” you said softly, your voice barely a whisper. “Lantern… your jacket.”

“That’s three,” Sebastian encouraged, his tone warm and reassuring. “Two more. You’re doing great.”

You nodded, still looking around. “The… the door,” you said, and then, after a moment, “The picture of the cat on you.”

“There you go,” Sebastian said with a small smile, his hand still resting on your shoulder. “Good job. Now, four things you can hear. Can you do that?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to block out everything but the sounds around you. The hum of the lantern’s old bulb, the faint dripping of water from somewhere in the shop, the soft creak of the floorboards under Sebastian’s weight, and… his breathing, steady and calm.

“Lantern… dripping water… the floor, and… your breathing,” you said, your voice a little steadier now.

Sebastian nodded. “Good. Really good, Sea Bunny. Now three things you can feel. Could be anything—your clothes, the chair, anything.”

You shifted slightly, feeling the leather of his jacket against your skin, the rough wood of the chair beneath you, the cool glass of water in your hands.

“Jacket… chair… water,” you listed off, your voice growing a touch firmer with each word.

“Perfect,” he said. “Now, two things you can smell.”

You took a deep breath, your senses still heightened from the panic, and caught the scent of something… familiar. The faint, salty tang of the ocean clinging to Sebastian’s clothes, mingling with the faint musty scent of the shop.

“Ocean… and… the shop,” you said, a small, almost tentative smile forming on your lips.

“Last one,” Sebastian said, his voice softer, almost a whisper now. “One thing you can taste.”

You took another sip of the water he’d given you, letting the cool liquid soothe your throat. “Salty Water,” you whispered.

Sebastian nodded, his grip on your shoulder tightening just a fraction, a silent gesture of support. “There you go,” he said, his voice still low and comforting. “You did great. You’re here, with me. You’re safe.”

You looked up at him, your breathing starting to even out, the tightness in your chest slowly loosening. His presence was solid, grounding, like an anchor pulling you back from the depths of panic. You weren’t alone. You weren’t lost.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice still shaky but stronger than before. “For… for helping me.”

Sebastian’s smile was small but genuine, a rare softness in his otherwise hardened expression. “Anytime, Sea Bunny,” he said quietly. “I’m here. Always.”

And for the first time since you stumbled into his shop, you believed it.

[simp999]

Ahem. Since my last request was a fumble, could I ask for a more platonic x reader where the reader is in their mid teens? They are pretty good at fighting, and almost never complain under any circumstances, but one day they come down with an illness that was worse than any other sickness they had ever had before. They try to tough it out, but end up breaking down in an isolated corner because they can’t take it anymore. Idk, after that I was just hoping for a Medic-centric comfort story.

Medic, Engineer, Sniper x Sick! Teen! Reader

Wc: 0.7k

A/N: No worries my guy!! Thank you for requesting!! I changed a few things up a bit and chose a few characters, I hope that cool- and I hope this isn't too short! I think I might start doing shorter fics from now on

Masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your head throbbed and pounded as your clothes became more drenched with sweat by the minute. But you had to live up to their expectations, you had to continue making them proud. You heaved as you dragged one foot in front of the other, doing your best to drag your compound bow to the respawn room after cleaning it the night before, preparing for today’s battle. You had woken up like this- pain filling every inch of your body and barely able to walk on your own without the aid of the walls surrounding you. 

You had managed to make it just barely into the game room before immediately collapsing to the cold, hard floor. The last thing you heard was a few shouts and hurried footsteps, along with the sound of your bow clattering to the floor. 

You woke up in the lab’s bed, drenched even more. You felt somebody wiping a stray hair that was sticking to your forehead away, then it went to check your temperature. The action was cut short when they noticed your eyes flutter open, quickly beginning to ask you lots of questions. Your eyes darted and your brows furrowed as you tried to make sense of his words that seemed to mesh together. The lights being so bright and everything seeming so loud wasn’t helping. Medic quickly took note and did everything in his power to ease any pain or annoyances. He dimmed the lights, and only allowed two mercs to stay in the waiting area. You felt a nice cold, wet cloth on your forehead, calming you immediately. He spoke with a much softer tone, asking you questions slowly. He was still a bit panicked- this had never happened to you before. 

You had been with the mercs nearly a year now, replacing Scout as the youngest. Despite him being pissy at first, you were now closer than ever with a sibling-like dynamic. It was nice being the teen of the group, almost feeling like you had nine scary dads protecting you; but it also had its downsides, mostly stemming from the fact that you’re still all cold-blooded killers. Which meant the expectation was that you could do great in battle, or so you assumed. You placed all these high bards for yourself, always wanting to make the mercs proud. Some were harder to please than others, such as Spy compared to Pyro who would often clap and grow excited at any little thing you managed. Soldier was the hardest on you out of them all, seeing that you had lots of potential at such a young age. There’s a reason you’re here. Medic and Engineer often had to remind him that you were still a teen.

You did your best to never complain, even when you felt like you were too exhausted to keep doing pushups or run around the base for the 100th time. You had placed the expectation that you had to keep up with the grown men on your shoulders, and you’d gotten used to it.

“Did something happen?” 

You tried to speak, but your voice was caught in your throat. It burned. You lightly shook your head, and it felt like it was spinning. 

Medic’s brows knit with worry as he studied you, deciding to allow the two other mercs in for support in aiding you. Even just for moral support for yourself. With the sweetest Texan accent, one of them spoke;

“Awh, Honeybee, ya shoulda told us ya weren’t feelin’ well, sugar.”

The other one nodded and he adjusted his sunnies, continuing to wipe a clothe over your prized bow. He knew you did your best to take great care of it, so he opted to do it himself. 

“Mhmm. Worried ‘bout ya, Roo.”

Engie listened to Medic’s every word- from getting you water to removing or adding a blanket, while Sniper- despite not being a big fan of physical contact, allowed himself to hold your hand in his with a very loose grip, running his thumb soothingly over the back of your hand. He rarely whispered small nothings to you, reassuring you.

“You're gonna be okay, bunny. You’ll be okay. We’re here for ya.” 

.

.

.

Mar. 6. 24

[nebbys-personal-nebula]

the biggest, most copium agent 4 theory from this clown of an agent four enjoyer

apologies for the wait on this! i wanted to unlock all of the dev diaries to make sure i could squeeze out every last bit of lore...

anyways SIDE ORDER SPOILERS INCLUDING POSTGAME

so let's start with the common knowledge. most people know by this point that agent 4 has a palette. it's one of the first you get in the game, after pearl and marina's. to the surprise of nobody, it is a splattershot...

according to what marina says about the memverse, palettes are a portion of a person's soul dragged into the memverse. so agent 4's soul got dragged in here somehow. how did this happen, and why? there are a few possibilities...

marina mentions in her eighth dev diary that she needs someone to handle system security. she writes: "maybe i can ask that person cuttlefish introduced me to for help there." this is still pretty vague, but we know from smollusk's note on agent 4's palette that it is definitely agent 4. quote:

"THIS is who mawina wanted in charge of memverse security? this unfwappable, free-spirited so-and-so? i would never abide it!"

the question is: if agent 4 was intended to be security for the memverse, then where are they? this leads us to the parallel canon boss!

note that figure in the center. even though all descriptions for this boss describe it as "a lot like eight", it is clearly an inkling with its pointed ears and hair.

the hairstyle is significant, too. all art of this boss, including its icon, display it with the "haircut" style. why does this matter? because official art of agent 4 also uses this style:

on top of that, people have reported that if you have splatoon 2 save data on your switch, the boss will use whatever hairstyle your inkling uses in that game (with that inkling, of course, being agent 4). unfortunately, i forgot to take a screenshot of my save, but maybe someone could reblog this and confirm?

another thing to note about that agent 4-looking robot in the center is that they're wielding the order shot, which is the same weapon you get from agent 4's palette.

so what exactly am i getting at with all this? let's read a little more of smollusk's notes on agent 4...

"buut...no weason such stwength shouldn't be used to pwotect a world of order. an order defense force is MUCH cooler than a new squidbeak splatoon anyway!"

this phrasing is particularly interesting to me because it implies smollusk wants to, or already has utilized agent 4's strength in some way. additionally, smollusk regards fans of chaos in a very similar way. for almost all of them, he argues they must be "punished". examples:

"she must be PUNISHED!" - callie's palette

"her chaotic lies must be PUNISHED!" - shiver's palette

"for the sake of order, they all must be PUNISHED!" - frye's palette

"it annoys me, so he must be PUNISHED!" - big man's palette

"he must be PUNISHED!" - sheldon's palette

"i sentence him to PUNISHMENT!" - dj octavio's palette

almost all of these characters are on the side of "chaos". callie and dj octavio were on the chaos side of the final fest, while shiver, frye, and big man rep the splatlands, basically the land of chaos. no idea what smollusk's beef is with sheldon though that guy was neutral LOL

on the other hand, smollusk is notably softer with characters on the side of "order", like marie, murch, and marina (obviously). he still critiques them, but he doesn't sentence them to "punishment".

agent 4 was on the side of chaos in the final fest. so why didn't smollusk sentence them to "punishment"?

perhaps it's because smollusk is already making use of them...by using their soul to control the parallel canon boss!

think about it! the bosses of the tower are basically security, right? they keep you from reaching the top! since smollusk knows from marina that agent 4 was meant to be security, it could have pulled in their soul to fulfill that job. that's why agent 4's palette is there, and that's why we don't physically see them in the dlc! because they're grayscaled in the outside world!

…it is also definitely possible that the boss is just INSPIRED by agent 4, taken from marina's memories, or something like that. but i like this theory because it explains why agent 4's soul ended up in the memverse.

one other thing - i think the popular opinion is that the parallel canon boss are "robots", due to the way they move, their eyes glowing, the filter on their voice, etc...this is probably true, but have you ever wondered if the boss is actually a real inkling (a digital…real…inkling? you get the idea) if it was just a robot like the others, why would it specifically have ears and hair? not only that, but you can get the parallel mask from the priz shop:

which you wear on your face. what if this is the real agent four, wearing this parallel mask? their gray coloring could be because they're grayscaled! after all, we never actually see a representation of grayscaling in-game. the name implies that they'd actually turn gray in some way, maybe in the color of their tentacles. but this could be the most dramatic extent of it!

this is definitely a stretch, but you can consider it food for the die-hard agent 4 angsters out there. love you guys <3

feel free to reblog if you have thoughts, add-ons or even counterpoints! i find this all really interesting

[sleeplesssmoll]

The biggest difference between Vertin and Bessmert: Blood lust

Since the similarities between Bessmert and Vertin are clear, I thought I'd point out an interesting difference between the two.

While both of them have conciliatory natures, the way they respond to conflict is different.

Bessmert responds with anxiousness and sadness when her group turns against her. We see this when Yeni is abducted too. She does her best to stay calm, and she's great at it, but we as players see her panic at moments in the game. For example, she nearly ran into the river which would have turned her into a horse! Her emotions bleed through more easily.

Do you remember when Sonetto was taken away on the island? After Vertin and Arcana were given the bracelets, it was Vertin who triggered it, burning them both. Arcana was amused by her murderous intent. She told Arcana she'd beat her up before too. She also apologizes to people when negotiations break down and beats their ass without hesitation. She's more like the "Oh well, can't be helped" type and throws hands. If you can't be reasoned with, she'll try another route.

On the other hand, Bessmert will still try to negotiate with people who are beyond that point. Honestly, Yeni's protectiveness is enough for the both of them, so it works out. Bessmert gives of a "softer" feeling than Vertin, despite their similarities. Vertin is very gentle but she has an "edge" to her as well. Another example, she beat up those brats (literal children) messing with her beloved Suitcase in the beginning of the game.

This latent ferocity only comes to light when I compare Vertin to Bessmert. Until now, she was on par with the other Arcanists (aside from Ezra who is just a sweet little mushroom) in terms of "Don't make me kick your ass" energy.

She's just more polite about it.

Bessmert is like a capybara. This needs no explanation. It's a vibe. Giant guinea pig with extra sweetness.

Vertin is like a cat. Cuddly, but not afraid to use its claws and teeth to make a point. A cat that's also willing to fight things a lot bigger than it.

[stxrr-strxckk]

Something I noticed about I Saw the TV Glow that I haven't seen anybody mention yet

I saw this movie in theaters back in early may when it was released (Twice!), and it's been lingering in my head ever since then. Something I noticed on my second watch through: When Owen (and the audience) first see the Pink Opaque, we see Tara and Isabel in this sort of 90s nostalgia light, and I always thought they looked quite similar to Maddy and Owen. For example: Here is Owen and Isabel next to each other for reference.

While it's not entirely the same (Owen has softer features and is warmer toned, Isabel is more sharp and cool toned), they do look like they'd at least be related, cousins at least?

Same with Maddy and Tara, though not as much. (They looked more similar after Maddy's haircut, but I'm too lazy to change the photo)

But then, at the end when Owen is rewatching Pink Opaque? It's completely different. That nostalgic effect is gone and all of a sudden Tara is nowhere to be seen (Since Maddy left the world they were trapped in), and Isabel is completely different. Instead of being the confident, strong, WOC we see her as originally, she's just the same boring white protagonist of every little girl's show we grew up on.

And of course Owen is panicking, realizing that he lost his chance: He buried Isabel; she's dead underground, without her heart and instead of being who he truly is where he truly belongs, he's just... Owen. Stuck in suburbia, living the hell of being a queer kid growing up in the suburbs. Except now, he's an adult living a lie, knowing what he could have had is gone and he's stuck.

And another thing: I think the choice of the fun zone being where Owen works is deliberate. Sure, they could have kept him at the theater, but the theater shutting down is not only accurate (sad but true- please support your local movie theaters!) but shows how everyone is moving on from that experience of going to see a movie in person- choosing streaming instead.

And we also notice this change in the Pink Opaque when Owen is watching it streaming. This is a reflection of how media felt more special growing up when it was in a physical form. Cds, vinyl, Dvds, casettes, film reels, even game cartridges, we've always had some physical object that bonds us to the worlds of creativity in which artists express themselves. And whether you've noticed or not, it's a special sort of feeling that just... Dies with streaming. Its like you own a piece of the media. Like saying: "This is mine, it's my personal piece of media that belongs to me and only me." and that's always made it feel special. Sure, there may be multiple copies, but this one belongs just to you. Not to mention the ritual of actually putting in cds, dvds, casettes into a player, or playing vinyl on a record player. There's this action you have to take to consume this media that's familiar and sort of gets you to anticipate what you're about to watch (much like Owen and Maddy's ritual of Maddy taping the show then leaving them around school for Owen to find) whereas now, you're just on a streaming service that lots of people own, and you're just mindlessly scrolling through hundreds of options.

Another thing: What do we see when Owen cuts his chest open in the final few minutes? TV static. Like when a tape finishes and you don't take it out of the player. Now with streaming, you don't get that static. His connection with the Pink Opaque stems from his friendship with Maddy, the nostalgia of his favorite childhood show, and of course: his own queerness.

It's no secret this movie is about growing up queer and feeling like something is wrong. Like some part of you missing, the part that makes you normal. I've seen many reviews on IMDB that clearly missed the point, so I really want to spell it out here: THIS IS A MOVIE ABOUT QUEER PEOPLE FOR QUEER PEOPLE. And I've never seen a movie so perfectly encapsulate that feeling more than this one.

From my experience as a queer POC growing up with little to no representation I know this feeling all too well of seeing someone and realizing: "Wow, that's me." And projecting who I wanted to be onto that person. Then, later revisiting that media to realize that a: you've become them, your true self, or b, in Owen's case: that you've buried that person alive and barely recognize yourself.

It's really such a unique experience that I've never been able to put into words before. These scenes gave me such a visceral feeling and I almost cried in the theater. The scene of Owen in Isabel's dress is just the cherry on top. I myself am lucky enough to not need to transition and growing up I didn't feel as much dysphoria as my other trans friends, but this reminds me of a good friend of mine who used to dress in heels, makeup, skirts, and dresses to try and lessen the dysphoria she felt growing up in the wrong body.

I also love how the movie shows being queer in school.

Like how Maddy asks Owen if he likes girls or boys, and he replies with: "I think I like TV shows."

Avoiding the question because you either don't know the answer, or are so afraid you're gonna get bullied even more for being who you are.

Growing up, there weren't many queer kids in my school. So when we found each other, we stuck together. But for most of school, we were alone. No groups, not many friends, no space at the lunch table for us.

And seeing Owen, I just felt this connection to him almost immediately. Alone, not part of any group, until he finally finds Maddy. They don't have anything in common except the show, which is really the only reason they're friends, but it keeps them together, They're bonded.

For me, I see this as finding another queer kid in a mostly straight school. You may not have much in common, but that identity means you two will stick together, no matter what.

TLDR: I love isttvg, it makes me cry, everyone in gay and fuck imdb.

[flightyalrighty]

What do you think about Shadow? What is your personal perception of him? I'm curious about your answer (I hope is spoiler free)

On his character profile, wikipedia etc... for a while he is describled in a strong negative way, like he has no positive traits, an anti-MarySue. But I remember that Shadow from SA2 to 2006, including Shadow 2005 (surprisling, watching the cut scene, I found his positive traits are still there), and then Prime Shadow, tMoStH (those two versions are a bit shy) and Archie Shadow has a good balance of positive and negative traits. In particular the first Shadow (Adventure 2) was enternaining, he seemed playful and mischievous at times, like he was sill a kid even if he was heavily burdened by his past, and there was something likeable in Shadow in Heroes, like he is nice to have around as friend although sometimes he may get difficult to deal with his stubborness, melancholy and pessimism.

Often people complain about Shadow being too expressive in Archie comics. I admit I complained too before rewatching SA2/Sheroes cutscenes, reading some old Sega description of the character, how Maekawa envisioned him (far different than what we have today and that's clear from SA2), I could see Archies' choices.

Also, Archie Shadow is still cold and gruff toward those he doesn't know/he didn't connect with (I lovd the part where he was answering to Relic's questions). He shows his softer side only to his closest friends and still has that hints of distrust, typical of those that were and are still abused and rejected in every possible way.

I like how you showed this in the early page of Infested. The Shadow in first pages is caring toward Rouge, but he is quiet, very focused, and stubborn (when he wanted to complete his mission despite the double concussion and the pain). I see the tick (the bug makes me think to a tick. I see them quite often bvecause the little b...s often attack my cats) is now neutralizing his mental shield, leaving him with his insecurities exposed and vulnerable, in order to make him panic more easily. Shadow's personality is still there for now but his defense is gone.

I think that different continuities have different takes on Shadow (as you mentioned with Archie and Prime). While I thought pretty long and hard about how to answer this, ultimately I'm not sure how. I'll try?

My personal perception of Shadow is simply how he was written before the series had its big tonal shift starting with Sonic Colors. This no-nonsense guy who strives to do the right thing in the most straightforward and efficient way possible. His character arc concluded with Sonic 06, and then he was slid backwards by a company that wanted so badly to twist the franchise to suit the whims of people who never had a real interest in Sonic to begin with. Shadow is so much more than the flat character he'd been hydraulic pressed into. He's more than

This.

I don't envy Ian Flynn's job. He started his career a lot more free to write Shadow how he wanted to, and then found himself struggling against more and more and more restraints -- To the point that he's said on record that he doesn't like writing Shadow anymore. That's sad, especially when my favorite take on all of Team Dark came from his pen. Ian Flynn, famously, was Archie Sonic's writer until its death.

Archie's Team Dark is how I love to see them written.

Archie Shadow, in particular, had a lot more going on than game!Shadow. He was far less likely to cause friction within the Team Dark dynamic -- Not to say friction is a bad thing in fiction, quite the opposite, but when that friction happens all the time it's exhausting. If Shadow was actually allowed more moments to be an actual teammate or collaborate with someone outside of Team Dark without making the whole situation way more needlessly difficult all on his own, that could solve a lot of the issues folks have been complaining about. Like, he doesn't even need to be written nicer, just more willing to work with allies when necessary. He used to do this. Now he barrels into every situation solo.

Anyway, kvetching about Shadow's current writing concluded (on top of the actual answer for this ask).

[moviestarmartini]

Since you are open to writing about Brahim 🤭imagine Jude being a third wheel and always hanging out with you and Brahim, like the guy is never at his house 😭😭

three, that's the magic number! - brahim diaz x reader x platonic!jude bellingham

warnings: none, pure fluff. headcanon/bulleted format.

OKAY HE WOULD LOWKEY BE LIKE “i want what these bitches have” BUT LET ME NOT GET AHEAD OF MYSELF HERE 

now playing... the magic number by de la soul

you’d heard of Jude but came to meet him in a dinner Brahim had organized with him and Arda. 

you’d noticed the way Jude stared in awe at the two of you whenever you interacted, even if it was just Brahim taking short glances, his face softer than ever. 

it started off with Brahim asking if you could pick up Jude on the way to training, not wanting the younger man to take a taxi there again 

the way the three of you could start a conversation and flow felt nice, singing along to some songs that Brahim had queued.

Jude often asked what the songs said, or what a word either of you said meant. you found endearing how he was really trying with spanish

Jude then started getting dropped off at your shared place to be driven to training by you two— getting all pouty when Brahim was the one driving, not you.  

“Is this what abandonment feels like?” He would joke, but still wished you the best on your way out to work. 

then it was the fact Brahim took it upon himself to teach the englishman the do’s-and-don’ts of Madrid. 

you took Jude everywhere, all your favorite spots, doing your best to avoid large crowds to not draw attention to yourselves. 

“You’re in luck, she’s the best tour guide ever.” Brahim bragged about you to Jude, as he did to anyone who would listen.  

he was just so so proud of every you know and done, he can’t help himself. 

you knew a lot about the historic places you saw even when just passing by car, telling Jude every detail and fun fact you had in store in that brain of yours.

he listened attentively, also noticing the way Brahim would look at you with the tiniest smile behind his lips.  

“See? I’ve got myself the smartest cookie. Eres la más inteligente de todo España, mi habibati.” Brahim would coo after you were done explaining, reaching to cup your face and stroke your cheekbone with his thumb as you nodded slowly, cheeks flushed. 

soon, however, candid pictures of you hanging out were released to the public. 

the reactions varied from people adoring the pair you and Brahim made and how tall Jude was compared to the two of you but always followed behind as if he was your child. 

by that point he’d already taken your flat as his favorite hang out spot, more often than not you found Jude playing FIFA or board games with Brahim after coming home from work.

“Get a room.” Jude would complain at your cuddling and kissing, Brahim brushing the spiky facial hair against the length of your neck only to hear the giggles that made his chest swell 

“Jude, you’re the one who’s in our room.” you deadpanned with a yawn, the two men bursting down in laughter. 

but at the end of the day, he felt like another member of your family— just like abi Arda did, but that’s a story for another day. 

and you were so glad Brahim could reintegrate back into the team flawlessly. 

at one of the games you sat in the VIP balcony at the bernabeú with a good chunk of the players— all out on injuries, including Jude, who went straight to you as he noticed you walk in. 

you two commented on the game as if that was your actual job, feeling every second and emotion. 

you also noticed how Jude looked at you every time you celebrated Brahim doing things right— it could only be described as admiration.

 Jude had to leave when the game was itching its end, having to stand with the other injured players, leaving you with Denise.  

you introduced yourself quickly, and you noticed how she perked up. 

“Lovely to meet you, but can you give me my son back? Or do I need to pull out some adoption papers for you two?” she laughed, soon telling you how much he talked about both you and Brahim, and the relationship you shared. 

you couldn't help but laugh, "Really? I think I have a pen in my purse, hold on–" you joked, but feeling proud... why? because everyone could clearly see how much you loved Brahim.

and they could also see, clear as day, how much he loved you too.

[lullabyes22-blog]

How are you so good at writing Silco's dialogue? It feels like I can hear his voice whenever I read your fic!

Thank you so much! Silco's voice is one of the trickiest to get right, so it's very gratifying to know his lines feel true to canon<3

Honestly, Silco has such a unique way of speaking. He doesn't sound like any character I've encountered before in media. At first blush, he comes across as your cookie-cutter Scar-coded villain, speaking with a subtle drawl, and an air of eloquent sarcasm and biting wit.

But that's where the similarities end.

Silco's a talker, for sure. But there's a cutting brevity to his sentences, almost like he can't be bothered to waste words. If you read his lines from the show out of context, you'll find that many of his sentences are more like questions posed in the form of observations. And when he speaks, there's a lot of subtext. He likes to keep the listener off-balance, always wondering, "is this guy actually talking to me, or is he just monologuing in his head?"

Also: his syntax is odd. Silco is extremely formal. He seldom uses contractions, and he never swears. Even when he's furious or stressed out, his diction never breaks (even if the accent starts slipping). His sentences are often very short and punchy, but there's also an art of obliqueness in there. He's a master at ending a conversation in the middle of a sentence, leaving his interlocutor wondering what comes next.

This may be controversial (largely because the poet is a misogynistic piece of shit), but I often liken Silco's dialogue as similar to Charles Bukowski's poetry.

Bukowski has an unrelenting cynical wit, succinctness, and a deep love for the word "fuck" that saturates the body of work even if the poems are not actually explicit. I always feel like Silco has the same tendency to subvert the banal, and turn a casual, throwaway comment into something gritty or profound. A lot of Bukowski's poems also deal with working class alienation and poverty, and there's a hardcore bastardly vitriol that is uniquely misanthropic in a way that feels true to Silco's worldview.

Also, fun fact: I hate Bukowski's poetry. He's a terrible, terrible man, and that disgust I feel towards the poet often bleeds into the way I handle Silco's dialogue in FnF.

This is not a nice person, and that's a crucial part of his character. He's an unapologetic anti-hero (anti-villain?) and I want his dialogue to reflect the darkness inherent in his actions and motivations. There's something irredeemably broken in his worldview, and that nihilism he touts as its own nobility is going to haunt him till the end of his days. Because life on the edges of monstrosity, in the dark, down in the dirt, doesn't make you inherently more 'honest' or 'brave' than those who actively choose to live in the light. In fact, I would argue that it makes you infinitely less honest because the darkness becomes a smokescreen to hide your own failings. It gives you plausible deniability. It's so much easier to believe that the world is inherently shitty and that you are an agent of justice taken to its blackest extremes, than to actively find ways every day to make the world a softer, brighter, and more inclusive place.

And to an extent, we can't even blame him, because in a place like Zaun, survival is all that matters. In such a zero-sum game, it takes someone inherently saintly to put the needs of the many above their own - or to martyr themselves in the process.

And we all know Silco's thoughts on martyrs...

Tl;dr:

Silco's dialogue is a weird balance between the brutal realism of his inner monologue, and the elegant, formal, and deceptively polite way he delivers his lines.

I bet he says 'Fuck', 'Prick', 'Cunt', 'Sod,' 'Bollocks', 'Shit', 'Piss' a lot.

But only in his head.

[nogenderbee]

DAMN FINALLY REQUEST ARE OPEN!! Can I get the Astral Express crew with an extremely fatigue reader? I'm also really fatigue and I even struggle with going from point A to point B even if its like from my room to the kitchen.

Omg yes!!! So happy to do some Star Rail for a change!! Also help why do I relate- Like I'm trying to do silly little PJSK dances so my condition won't be this bad but omg it's still not great... But here it is! Hope you like it vodka <3

Also sorry for Himeko and Welt being a bit shorter-

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝔽𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕖 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ March, Dan Heng, Himeko, Welt with fatigue!reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff but can be read as platonic too!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @miya-akane (not tagging you since you'll get notification either way)

✧ I feel like March would somehow relate to your problem... I know she had LOTS of energy in game but just listen to me!!

✧ she's not necessarily fatigue but she is a bit lazy after long adventure where walking around Express can be hard for her

✧ so she'll never make you walk and let you sit down whenever you need! If you're with others, she'll offer to wait for you even if they prefer to keep walking for whatever reason

✧ she also rambles or keeps the conversation going so you can forget about tiredness a bit and so the time passes quicker

✧ if you were getting into trouble by your condition, she definitely did protests-

✧ anyway, if you want to get your condition up, she definitely knows a lot of fun ways and will do her best to help you find something for you!

✧ when both of you are after adventure, you may as well be sitting in the same room, refusing to go out so someone has to bring you food so you won't starve yourselves-

"C'mon it's finally time to take a break from all this walking! I'm sure others can wait and we get to talk a bit more~"

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✧ Dan Heng wad actually a bit mean the first time you felt too tired to walk...

✧ he'd complain that you're slow and that you're just slacking him down but he quickly feels bad and depending on how close you are, he either offers to sit down for a bit or to carry you for a while!

✧ but don't get used to being carried as he'll do it for 5 minutes max and then he puts you back down so you can walk by yourself

✧ he's definitely getting softer as the time passes tho!

✧ he'd try to drag you out of your room as much as possible so you can get your condition up but if you're stubborn person and simply refuse to, he'll eventually give up

✧ definitely tried convincing you to get out with things like "if you won't get out you won't get dinner" but if you won't get out, he'll bring dinner to you in the end because he doesn't want you to starve...

✧ even tho you prefer to stay indoors, he won't usually stay with you as he does have to walk around as Trabilazer so there's a high chance of him not being by your side most of the time...

"C'mon hurry up already. I carried you literally 5 seconds ago, you can walk for at least 2 minutes..."

Why he so mean idk ToT he just seems like that

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✧ Himeko would actually be caring towards you!! She'd try her best to understand if you don't want to move much

✧ she stays in Express for most of the time herself so she'll most likely be around you when others are gone exploring and so

✧ has no problem bringing you food, she just wants to make sure you stay healthy!

✧ but she does try to get your condition up by encouraging you to at least take small walk around Express with her and may even offer you your favorite sweet as treat for doing good job!

✧ she honestly is the type to not care much as long as you stay happy and healthy

✧ she often stays in the Express but if you'd want to go on adventure, she'll be more than happy to go with you!

✧ she's pretty supportive during it too, maybe she won't necessarily carry you but she sits down along you whenever you feel like taking a little break

"Hey, since others are gone walking around Jarilo VI, how about we take a small walk?"

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✧ Welt would most likely scold you for not taking care of yourself and explain how it's important for you to move at least once a day and so

✧ he'll still bring you food tho! Just be prepared for small scolding every time he enters...

✧ definitely tried getting you out of your room and even on expeditions by suggesting going to your favorite cafe on the way or so

✧ if he does manage to get you out for adventure, his scolding actually stops and he's pretty supportive!

✧ he'll let you rest whenever you need and even often drop some "I'm proud of you"s since he sees you're trying your best

✧ trust me when I say he'd love to carry you to help you out but I feel like he has a back of old men so he can't-

✧ instead he'll sit down with you whenever you need and maybe bring you some water or so to calm down

"You're doing a good job, don't give it up, alright? It's alright to take a break so ask for it whenever you need."

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