#some obviously overlap but :) I'm Fine

[ryuichifoxe]

I've been working on this (wip) playlist on my breaks from button making. It could probably be split into three separate playlists (Sidestep, Heartbreak, and romances) once it's done but I ain't doing that tbqh

It's pretty much chronological up to track 18, and then all the ChargeStep and SteelStep songs start. In no particular order.

[cesium-sheep]

apparently when he was given baseball tickets for whichever gift holiday (I think it was for his birthday from his mom) he was given two tickets. which, if it's from his mom, like. I know that game girl. I see that. but it's not my circus so like whatever, I still get to see baseball and I don't have to be more than distantly polite to you either.

[were--ralph]

Hey i saw you ranting about trans men on a post, and i was just wondering a few things. This is a genuine question, as a stelth trans man, i really cant find anything about a pre op transitioning body attractive. Especially a pre op Chest. Now i do take testosterone, and i think that the parts that i find gross (ex: tits mixed with chest hair) are a perfectly acceptable thing to deal with so i can look the way i want to look. I love my body hair and my muscle growth, i just dont love the obviously not cis parts of me. What do you find attractive about this? I truely cannot for the life of me understand why people find trans men attractive but i would really like to understand.

I think spicy food is disgusting generally. it's like. hot and not fun and to me it adds nothing good to the food experience. Genuinely I don't understand why people enjoy hot foods it makes like. literally no sense.

and yet, people do. it's weird. I've tried on multiple occasions to get into spicy food and it just. suks. every single time it sucks. But everyone else in my family lives by it. And I've asked why for years literally unable to understand it until I realized.

sometimes people just. like things. things I certainly don't like and cannot enjoy whatsoever. But at the same time, this is true for me and not for them. I fucking love coffee to the point I drink it more than water most days, but no one else in my family likes it. BUT other people outside my family enjoy it too.

Life is weird and what I'm getting at is something that took me a lifetime to understand and I still can't wrap my head around it all the time.

People just like things. People love things and hate things. What things mean to one person can mean the world to another and death to the third. There's not always a reason for it, but what you have to do is accept that there are things in life that you just might not like much right now. but as time goes on you'll find value in it the same way your partner will find value in you and all the minuscule things you do and become and like and dislike.

And to build on that point, there are things I hated as a kid that I'm fine with and even love now. Each day changes you more than you'll ever know and with those changes, the acceptance that comes with them may be easier or harder.

So, to answer your question, I don't know! I just love men. Men with tits or pecs, men with vaginas or dicks. maybe both at the same time or neither at all! I just think men are generally attractive no matter the design or what's different about them. and not just men but people who present as masc in general. If you're masc nb there's a chance I'm looking at you through the window of a bar as much as if you were cis-male or trans-male.

I do know for some men, the allure of masculinity displaced with the typically-feminine concept of a vagina intrigues them. Maybe it's the juxtaposition of them together, maybe they just want something unique and new to them. Maybe they just really like vaginas and it doesn't matter who it's attached to, or maybe they just like trans men. Same thing with boobs, some guys just like boobs. Some men have boobs. the overlap doesn't mean net-negative results, it could be double positive.

And I don't expect you to love everything about yourself, god knows I don't love everything about myself, and despite people telling me what's good about me I can still find flaws within it whenever I choose. I think men with chest hair are hot as fuck, but also I've seen some smooth men that are just as if not hotter. I love me a fat man or a man with muscles, but i've seen twinks i'd demolish in one sitting as well. I've seen men with dicks and boobs and scars and and hair pretty much everything under the sun and sometimes I want them to sit on me and forget I'm there and smother me.

What you do have to do though is accept that you have those things, and you are those things, and even though you may not like those things you have to accept that they're a part of you and find value in that. And it's not an easy task at all to love yourself, but you have to try because even if you don't right now, there's a partner who will be waiting for you somewhere. there's a future version of you who loves you as you are. there are friends who love your flaws, pets who don't judge, and there are a lot of things that accept you as you are.

So just say you have boobs and chest hair. even if you don't love it about yourself right now know that there are and will always be people who do, and personally I've said before, but I wish i had boobs and chest hair it's just a perfect look to me. I'm fine with whatever my gender is, i just think its a good look. If I had money for top and bottom surgery I'd get it and never look back. You just have to find the value in yourself we all know is there, and if you can't just know that we know it's there and let that carry you through the day!

[homunculus-argument]

One thing I will always love in fantasy books is the trope where a character gets adopted into some clan or tribe or such, and the initiation ceremonies have huge overlap with ceremonies they do for children born into the tribe. Like everyone knows that this is a Big Serious Event and that the rites must be fulfilled, nobody's objecting to that, but it's hard to resist giggling when you're watching a full-grown 25-year-old clumsily performing some rite that kids usually do when they're like five or eight years old, or which are done for infants. Taking an awkward pause to figure out whose task it is to fulfill the role that's usually performed by a child's parent, and having someone shrug and go "okay fine for the sake of ritual purposes, I'm your dad now."

People trying so hard not to giggle because obviously there's nothing silly about this. Adult initiations just happen to be so rare that people don't consider how much overlap there is between rituals of welcoming a new member into the tribe, and rituals of welcoming a baby into the world of being alive.

[nightsmarish]

Hello luv <3 could you possibly write a prongsfoot or wolfstar x reader and they take her to get a new piercing?? maybe they accidentally keep hitting or helping her clean it and stuff :)))

Poly!prongsfoot x fem!reader (James Potter x fem!reader x Sirius black) | 900+ words

A/n: first of all: omg, my first rq, very very happy, thank you so much babes <3. Second: I am on a piercing ban rn and I am dying for the ban to break so this made me sooooo jealous

T/w: reader is suggested to have multiple ear peircings, needles, still learning to write James, Sirius works in a bar

★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡

"What if this is a bad idea?" You haven't even gotten out of the car and into the building when you start second guessing yourself.

"Love, you've wanted this for a while, I thought?" James is getting out of the backseat and opening your door on the passenger side.

"I do, but it's my first face peircing, what if it looks bad?" James kneels next to your seat in the car while you fiddle with your hands, eyes focused on them, rather than the worry on James' face that will undoubtedly make you melt.

"Doll, you're gonna look hot as fuck, I promise you that much." Sirius turns in the driver's seat to face you, left hand moving to the back of your head, stroking the nape of your neck. "And either way, if you get it and, after a few months, hate it, you can take it out."

You all sit there for a moment before you stop fidgeting and look between the two boys. "Sorry, I don't know why I'm freaking out now, ive been planning this for weeks now." You laugh, trying to ease the tension that's accidently set.

"It's okay, love." James gently grabs your face, turning you to face him and kissing you softly. "You still wanna get it?"

"Yeah, I do."

ᯓ★

You all manage to get through the door of the peircing shop.

You sit in the chair, Sirius holding your hand and James looking away because needles freak him out, but he was adamant he would be a form of moral support.

The piercer uses the forcep clamp and you're pretty sure the needle is in their other hand, but you've had your eyes closed for a while now. And honestly, based off the videos you watched, it's probably for the best you don't see the needle.

"Okay, breath in through your mouth." Their voice is soothing as you take in a breath, albeit a little shaky.

"And a deep breath out..." your hand forms a death grip on Sirius' hand as the needle punctures your nose.

"Good job. I'm going to put the jewelry in now; one more deep breath in." Your hand keeps its hold on Sirius, "and out." The jewelry swiftly replaces the needle. "Okay, and you're done."

While paying and leaving, your hand never leaves the boy until you reach the car.

"Let me see." James once again gently grabs your face once the three of you are near the car. "Dear Merlin, that looks amazing."

"Yes it does, and you took it like a bloody champ, doll." The other boy adds.

"Yeah? It looks good?"

"Obviously." He overlaps one of James hand and leans in to kiss you.

"Wait- no- no kisses right now." Both boys drop their hands from your face.

"Are you okay?" James brows are furrowed in concern.

"I'm- I'm just scared you'll hit it and it will hurt."

The paler of the two laughs a bit but looks at you so fondly you could melt into a puddle like the wicked witch of the west. "Fine- fine then. No kisses. For now."

ᯓ★

You're sitting on the couch when James gets home a few days later, book open as you read.

James toes off his shoes and walks behind the couch, tilting your chin to lean down and kiss you.

You instinctively let him, used to the little routine the three of you have. But dear fuck, you didn't consider how much it would hurt for his nose to hit your very sore one during a kiss.

"Fucking-" You pull back, hand going to your nose to shield it as if some invisible source is gonna sucker punch you.

"Shit- sorry, love, I didn't even think about your new piercing." James rounds the couch to sit next to you, putting your book face down on the coffee table to keep your place.

"It's okay, Jamie, really." You move your hand away and rake your nails through his hair.

"'M sorry anyway." He leans in again, this time kissing your hairline instead of your cheek.

Sirius had been up in the bedroom, having a night shift at the bar he worked at, so he was sleeping most of the day. But his shift starts in an hour, and he wants to at least see you two before he has to see drunk people for 8 hours.

Padding down the staircase in your townhouse, Sirius sees you and James on the couch, you with tears lining your eyes.

"Bloody Merlin, baby, don't try and kill the girl, prongs." Sirius jokes as he makes his way to the couch as well.

"I didn't do anything!" James whips his head around to Sirius, who cuts him off with a kiss before he can continue to defend himself any further.

"He kissed me and it hurt like a bitch." Your voice is slightly whinny, desperately wanting your shorter boyfriends attention.

"Oh, my poor girl, James is hurting you with his love again?" Sirius coos as he sits between you two, but it's more like on both your laps, grabbing the sides of your face to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I said sorry!" He attempts to defend himself again, "I didn't mean to."

"Sounds like it was an accident, huh, doll?" Sirius speaks in-between kisses on your face.

"Seems so." You murmur.

"Either way, seems only James can properly kiss me now." He grins at you before grabbing James' face, more aggressively than needed, and smashing their lips together.

[wroetovic]

VROOM (harry lewis x reader)

summary : in which y/n and harry get invited to go to the silverstone formula one grand prix (2023)

face claim : no one exact

notes : im an absolute noob at writing fics so please excuse the quality lmao. im petrified of posting on here but ive been thinking about starting a blog for over a year. im open to feedback, opinions and any sort of questions/advice is welcome! i happen to waffle a lot so just skip those parts if uninterested. this is my first post so enjoy 😝 also pls request because i have the creativity of a koala so id appreciate some ideas :D

pairings : harry lewis x reader , lando norris x platonic!reader

"WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?! Are you actually serious?" You asked your boyfriend in genuine shock, followed by a laugh from the man dressed in head to toe in Ferrari merch. The red and yellow colors clashed hilariously with the sleek, orange McLaren paddock pass hanging around his neck.

"What? I thought I'd support the winning team." He shrugged, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. You and Harry got invited by the Mclaren F1 team to watch the Silverstone Grand Prix from the paddock. As a Formula 1 fan youself, you were excited to see the cars upclose. To watch the mechanics to the pitstops, engineers do their things (idk what they do lmao) and to watch Max Verstappen overlap the whole grid like seven times. Even since you were a little kid you were amazed by those cars driving freakishly quickly. Now, several years later you get to experience it right infront of your eyes.

"Look, there's Lando!" Harry pointed out, spotting your friend talking to a group of mechanics. You approached Lando, who broke into a wide grin as he saw you. "Hey! There are my favorite YouTubers!"

You beamed. "Lando! It's so good to see you. How's it going?"

"It's been wild but amazing," Lando replied, glancing at Harry. "And I see you've managed to get Harry in the right gear this time."

Harry laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I had a little help with that."

Lando gave you two a playful nudge. "So, who are you rooting for today? Besides me, of course."

You laughed. "Well, McLaren, obviously. But I'm also excited to see how the Brits perform. It's going to be an interesting race."

"That's the spirit," Lando said, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "Alright, I better get back to my team, but I'll see you guys later? Enjoy the race!"

You and Harry found a spot in the back of Landos garage, it had a view on the screens but also the pit-stop. The whole race went by fast. The moment the lights went out Lando tried his hardest with a deserved P2 at his home race.

Liked by mclaren, f1 & 1,002,485 others.

yourusename mom, i got invited to the silverstone grand prix.. still lowkey in disbelief like wtf.. me?? anyways, tysm mclaren 🩷 enjoy my lovely film camera dump raaaah.

View all 2,547 comments.

user harry looking fine as always😍

user y/n and lando finest friends

wroetoshaw whos the first fella hes fit

- yourusername he has a girlfriend..

user i can imagine y/n just walking around taking pictures of everything and everyone 😭😭😭

user i almost melted when they came on the screen

- user me too 😭 forgot i was watching f1 for a second

wroetoshaw i still think i shouldve worn my ferrari outfit #hater

- yourusername youd be sticking out like a sore thumb youre lucky i stopped you #loser #youalmostworepajamapants

user y/n looked so good there 😍

user i LIVE for y/n and landos friendship

faithlouisak i cant believe you chose him over me..

- yourusername im sorry bae.. next time im taking u

faithlouisak finest woman out there

calfreezy wtf fake friends.. theburntchip are you seeing what im seeing ???

- theburntchip bunch of fakies😔

holy what a yap fest lmfao please someone REQUEST something 😭 cause this is too plain.. !

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

So I decided back in September that it is Time. The time has come. I am going to try and get a formal diagnosis for my blatant and provable ADHD, because I am very interested in Doing Laundry

And in my defence it has only taken until this week (late January) to kick things off, which I am very aware should probably be part of the diagnostic criteria

Anyway

I have a plan! For the best chance of being taken seriously. If the university can do their in-house screening of me, I can go to my GP and make the following two points:

I am here because my boss felt I said "But everyone does that" one too many times while discussing the ND students, and she wants me to chase this in case it means she can support me better (I of course am charmingly bemused about it because I personally would never try and get diagnosed, no no, only those attention-seeking fakers do that)

An official educational institution i.e. my employer has in fact initially assessed me and deemed me Medically Distractible. I even have an ALN plan, look. So uhhhhh, maybe my boss is right? (I of course remain charmingly bemused about it because I obviously don't really believe it, no no, I could never be the expert on my own experience, but a Third Party is invested, so...)

Anyway yesterday the uni got in touch, and had me do the initial screening.

Now, they're doing it as part of a wider screening process of learning needs, so they also check you for dyslexia, dyscalculia, dyspraxia, and autism, as well as ADHD. Plus how good your reading/writing/maths is. Plus they make you do these really fun tests - one was like a classic American spelling bee, one was a spelling test where they read out increasingly lengthy fake words and you had to spell them (we started with "blit", and by the end she was saying things like "unintarcation" and "iffrig-oggonery" and "self-regulating free market" trololol I JEST), and the other was that she'd read out a string of numbers and I had to type them backwards to test my working memory

Good fun, actually. Anyway, my results were mostly completely fine:

Study skills are good! I mean, we're going orange at the end, look, time management is bad - but that's the ADHD, so expected.

No problems with the tests! I mean I'm slightly grumpy about the social and communication score going blue, because I'm pretty sure it's because I explained how I was bullied in school, which I feel is more about them than me. But eh.

Dyspraxia was a little less solid- that's the time blindness, I think. Also attention and concentration, that's expected. Maths, lol - that's not medical, I'm just bad at maths.

The autism testing. Again, mostly fine, but some overlap with ADHD symptoms, so blue instead of green. Makes sense.

And then

Fucking rinsed.

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

I get that Helluva Boss and Hazbin don't and aren't planned to have much overlap, and for the most part I appreciate that separation and the way that it makes the world seem that bit larger.

The one exception being this: I am convinced that Angel Dust and Fizzarolli are at least acquaintances, and quite possibly friends.

No, listen, hear me out.

Angel supposedly died in the forties. We don't know exactly when he was picked up by Valentino, but I think it's fair to assume he's been working in Hell's sex work/stripping/porn scene for at least a few decades before he joins the Hotel.

Fizz's backstory is obviously more detailed. We know that he was either born in the Pride Ring or came there at a very young age, because he was already working there as a circus performer when he was a kid.

By the time Helluva Boss starts, however, he's obviously moved on to operating primarily in the Greed and Lust rings, as Mammon's star performer and Asmodeus's boyfriend platonic PA who he occasionally has totally unemotional bang-sessions with.

In between these two points is the accident, which seems to have happened when Fizz was in his late teens. The last time he saw Blitz before that night in Ozzies.

So, here's where the only concrete canon 'evidence' for my theory kicks in: in Oops, Blitz claims that he and Fizz have “been in each other's relative vicinity twice in the last fifteen years” (referring to Ozzies and just now when they bumped into each other in Greed).

However in The-Mammon-Episode-With-Too-Long-A-Title, everyone can't stop talking about how Fizz has consistently won Mammon's clown pageant every time he's entered. For the past ten years.

That gives us five whole years of Fizz's life that are completely unaccounted for. We know that he started this period off in the Pride Ring with his circus destroyed and a brand-new permanent disability to get used to, and ended it in Greed working for Mammon, but we have no idea what happened in between.

So, here is where evidence ends and rampant speculation begins.

As a former child performer, Fizz is unlikely to have had much experience doing anything else. In fact, given that they were travelling with the circus, it seems unlikely that him and Blitz would even have ended up with a steady education.

Blitz obviously managed to found his own business after the accident, but Blitz had been dreaming of doing just that since he was a young child, and it was his Dad who was actually handling the business-side of the circus, so I don't think he's a fair comparison. Fizz probably spent his early years assuming he'd just keep performing forever, and so it makes sense that he'd go back to that.

On the other hand, Fizz had just lost all his limbs, and would have been having to adjust to his prosthetics. (Most likely lower quality prosthetics that he ended up with later, since those seem to be a gift from Ozzie.)

His clown act was mostly physical. Acrobatics require a sense of balance and spatial awareness. Balloon animals and juggling require fine motor control. Literally replacing all four of your limbs— even with magical Hell-prosthetics— is going to cause issues with all these skills, at least temporarily.

So. What industry in the Pride Ring is related to entertainment, but doesn't necessarily require any complex acrobatics, and would most likely welcome a fresh amputee with severe facial scarring? (For fetish reasons, if nothing else?)

I'm not saying Fizz would have done sex work, since he seems so uncomfortable with the idea, but stripping? Maybe doing some soft core porn? I could see that. He's clearly not too fussed about adult entertainment in general, because he's totally okay performing at Ozzies.

He's also probably insanely handsome by imp standards. Like, dude ends up becoming a major sex symbol throughout the rings and has the embodiment of Lust falling madly in love with him. (Plus, as a kid and teenager, he got more attention as a performer than Blitz— the guy who briefly dated a succubus pop-star and now has an ars-goetia prince begging him for a pity-fuck at every opportunity.)

So, given all that, and given his future success, it makes sense that he'd have been popular. Which immediately puts him in range of one of the Pride ring's other hugely popular adult performers: Angel Dust.

And I could see these two getting along. Since Angel is more of a sex worker whereas Fizz is more of a performer, and since Angel would probably be mainly catering to sinner demons and Fizz to hellborn (though no doubt there'd be some overlap), chances are they wouldn't be in direct competition with each other.

They have similar senses of humour and similar personalities. They both like small, cute animals. They both genuinely care about the quality of their performances, even in circumstances where they might not be expected to. They both have a tendency to mask their emotions with sex-related jokes.

Plus there's the fucking angst potential of Angel befriending Fizz when he was an independent performer, and then watching— helplessly— as his friend starts talking about this new job offer with Mammon.

Like people have already made posts about how Angel might feel watching Fizz's performance in Two Minutes Notice and comparing it to his own situation with Valentino, but fuck imagine it from the other end of Angel watching his friend fall into that situation.

Trying to talk him out of it during the initial love-bombing phase and getting told he's just jealous. Not even being able to visit Fizz when it all goes wrong because sinners aren't allowed to leave the Pride Ring.

Also, as a secondary detail, imagine Angel Dust finding out that his new friend's life-changing injuries were caused by Blitz, seemingly a pretty well-known figure in the Pride Ring.

Imagine Blitz finding out that Hell's most famous porn actor has genuine beef with him and having absolutely no idea why.

(Millie, Moxxie and Loona— based on the Verosika thing— all assume it was a bad breakup, despite Blitz insisting otherwise.)

[elexuscal]

Ficlet prompt idea! Interactions between ART and Pin-Lee and/or Mensah in the time after NE but before SC.

More thoughts if you wanted more inspiration than a single line. Does Pin-Lee teach ART some new curses ('cause ART curses alot more in this book, and I wanna blame Pin-Lee like how Rhatti mentions the overlap between MB and Pin-Lee's curse vocab)? How great would their banter be, lawyer vs know-it-all-AI?!

Is ART still kinda shy/excited by meeting Mensah?

Thank you~ I really love your work!!!

Awwww thank you very much!

Oh man i was so spoiled for choice here but i really really struggled to think of an interesting take on this

Big thank you to @specialagentartemis who i paraphrased a significant chunk of this from as well as general Vibes

Asshole vs Asshole

So here's the thing. Here's the fucking thing, okay?

Twenty-three days. Twenty-three fucking days of waiting, of worrying, of preparing. Of nearly chewing her own arm off. Of thinking she was walk into a fucking blood bath.

And the Preservation Alliance rescue team finally gets to the scene of the crime, and no one is dead. Which is fucking good, obviously. Okay. She gets it. No one's dead, no one's lost any limbs, and praise the dark gods of yesteryear, no one has even been kidnapped. This is literally better than the best-case scenarios they concocted.

But surely, surely, Pin-Lee can't be the only one who thinks it is fucking weird to be having tea with the person who did the kidnapping in the fist place?

"Thank you, Perihelion," Ayda says, as a shiny blue drone finishes pouring tea into a cup. Just a whiff and a glance is all Pin-Lee needs to know it was brewed exactly the way Dr. Mensah prefers it.

The drone turns to hover to her. It pours a drink into her own mug. Pin-Lee glares at it.

Ayda doesn't look at her, doesn't so much as tilt her head. But they've worked together for a long, long time now, and Pin-Lee nonetheless reads the subtler body language. She grinds out, "Thank you."

She sips the drink. It is coffee and it is extremely bitter and it's warm-but-not-quite-hot and Pin-Lee has a sneaking suspicion it is at least a few hours old.

[You're welcome~] Perihelion's trills as the drone zooms away.

Peri. Fucking. Helion.

Turns out, it's the one that orchestrated this whole thing. The super-secret advanced spaceship that SecUnit apparently befriended while it was off on its journey of self-discovery or whatever decided that it knew exactly who could handle its little pest control problem, and hadn't much cared which innocent civilians got stuck in the cross-fire.

"There were extenuating circumstances," SecUnit had explained, face set like it was ready for a fight.

"It's all fine, water under the bridge," Ratthi had said. "No harm done really."

"Except for the new layers of fresh trauma," Overse had groused.

"But we're handling that, too," Arada had said, with a too-bright smile. "And it's a good thing we're here to help the colonists."

"Yeah yeah and you should see ART's hydroponics bay, it's super cool," said Amena, tugging on her arm.

So suffice to say she was kind of getting some Mixed Signals about this whole thing.

But okay! Corporates descending to steal the livelihoods of hundreds of innocents! Fine! There's a lot at stake! And this is what Pin-Lee is good at, and (sort of) what she was dragged along to handle, so she is willing to put this all aside for the greater good.

Pin-Lee sips at her under-handed-insult coffee and reads over the legal feed documents of this whole cluster-fuck of a case. "Okay," she says at last. "Okay, this is salvageable. But I'm going to need to some more info before I can fully revise this.."

"Of course," says the captain of The Perihelion, a note of genuine relief in his otherwise professional voice. "What do you need?"

"1: A full list of all the symptoms associated with the contamination, and its speed of spread. That'll influence what level of breach this is classified under. 2: Estimates for all of the colonists deaths that were directly caused due to their being stranded. 3: Monetary evaluation of all the colonists' remaining assets..."

"Of course," the captain agrees

Which is fine. Except fifteen minutes later some teenager not-much-older-than-Amena shows up and hands Pin-Lee a stack of paper.

"What's this?" Pin-Lee says, her eyes immediately skidding off of the hand-written tables and charts.

"That's our evaluation of the colonists' assets, like you asked for," the teenager (Turi?) says.

Pin-Lee looks at Turi, to the papers, and back at Turi again. "Can I get this in the feed?"

"Well.... You can..." Turi says, a bit of red in their cheeks. "But..."

"But no guarantee the numbers won't be doctored there," calls Karime from the other side of the lounge.

Teeth grinding in the back of her mouth, Pin-Lee manages, "What?"

[My numbers are perfectly accurate,] Perihelion protests. [It is hardly my fault if none of you are capable of following the calculations.]

Martyn snorts. "It would help if you bothered explaining all your sources."

[Find them yourself.]

Pin-Lee can barely believe what she's hearing. "Are you telling me... that your AI keeps fucking with the numbers so bad that you need to get a teenager to do the accounts by hand."

"I'm not a teenager, I'm twenty-three." Pin-Lee huffs; as if that's a meaningful difference. "And I'm a very, very good accountant." Turi pauses, then admits, "But that's the long and short of it, yes."

Pin-Lee can't help it. She drops her head to the table and hides it under her arms.

[Do you have a problem with this state of affairs?] the very aptly re-named Asshole Research Transport oozes in her private feed.

[You really don't need me to answer that.]

[You're right. I don't.]

She uncurls her finger and makes a rude gesture. Presumably one of its thousands of cameras will see it.

That summons SecUnit into the conversation. [Are you two fucking with each other again?]

[No,] they say in unison.

[Cut it out,] SecUnit says, and then drops away. Truly a master of conflict resolution, that one.

'I'll cut it out when you learn to make nicer friends', she almost sends, but catches the obvious come-back and stops herself. Instead she takes sip of her shitty coffee and gets to work trying to interpret hand-written accounts.

[portal-geist]

ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝔹𝕠𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 ＆ ℍ𝕠𝕨𝕕𝕪

「Detective duo??」

(Reader is a robot character, helping kids get more familiar about their feelings therefore they are powered by love with a single heart on their chest but everything else is up to you! They also are the one to provide goods to Howdy, basically being buisiness mates.)

(Also, this overlaps with the Narrator reader au I have made. They are only mentioned though so do not worry. {And I will continue writting them as well :)} )

"26, 27, 28, 29...."

The robot pointed at each and every shinning apple that was set on the tabletops. They moved slowly yet precisely, though suddenly shuddered as they found a miss calculation.

They stood quiet and slowly walked away from the isle until stopping dead in their tracks being called by Howdy.

"Were they all there this time?"

The catapillar asked with hope.

The robot looked back at their paper, then looked back up from it. They pulled out a small thumbs up, knowing that obviously there weren't.

There were only 29 apples, even though the list said 30. There's been an apple thief going around the neighborhood, though it was kept secret between Howdy and... Y7/N4... err, Heart bot was their secondary title.

They were the provider of goods at Howdys place, having an eco friendly wind factory near Poppys barn.

They found the Catapillar sobing on the floor next to the apple section, full of despair and agony of the loss of a singular apple.

Due to respect and not wanting to embarass their friend, the robot kept this a secret, working together to find who it is.

Although that also means more work hours than usual... But hey! That also means more time with their friend!

"All good Howdy."

The bot gave a thumbs up.

"Nice! I'm gonna need to recount them in a sec, I just need to-"

Hugh,

"-Bring this to the corner right there."

Howdy placed the box that sounded packed from behind the counter, pointing to the isle you just checked. The emotion driven robot could tell how he was espeacially eyeing the apples they have just restocked.

Although slightly offended, as it also kind of ment that Howdy didn't trust their decision of coding, from all of the times the apple isle was targetted for some mysterious reason, it was very understandable.

However, Y/n's circuits shocked up knowing very well that they had lied, sliding right before Howdy's path.

"It is alright, friend. I ensure you that my calculations are correct. Ah, please let me do this for you as well."

That being said, the Heart Bot grapled on the sides of the box harshly, trying to take it away from the poor shop keep.

"Oh nono it's totally fine! Err... umm.."

"It is Y7/N4."

"Err... y/n."

Howdy said, not letting go which the opposing bot didn't either.

They insisted on carrying the heavy box strongly, being backed up with crucial evidence that they are more fit for the job while Howdy kept on awkwardly refusing out of guilt and empathy.

Nobody is calm about this.

"Really y/n, I know that you have a big ol' heart and I'm sure you are more sturdy than I but I don't wanna work yourself ou-"

RING~

"Oh, helloooo?"

A familiar calm and soothing voice entered the shop.

The two froze, not expecting someone to walk in despite the 'OPEN' sign clearly still hung up.

The charismatic puppet followed up by a shinning star took notice of the two and greeted them.

"Hello, Howdy! Hello Hearty!"

Sally chirped.

"You guys seem to be in a kerfuffle!"

"What's inside that box if I may ask?"

The two customers leaned in with curiousity. Y/n suddenly let the box go, Howdy struggling for a second before softly placing it down.

"Now friends, hold on your horses... Let me ask what you are in need first?"

The robot pointed at their list.

"Oh! Me and Wally were able to come up with an idea for our play! We're just here for some materials!"

"Well! The handcraft items should be other there!"

Howdy pointed in the direction from behind the robot.

"While you lot do that I'll handle this."

"But I'm just so curious!"

"What's inside that box if I may ask?"

The box was so stunning that it seemed just impossible to take everyone's attention off of it!

"I'm... not sure actually. I only know that Eddie sended it to me saying it was from Frank."

"I definetley don't remember providing him any products to send you."

Howdy looked at Y7/N4 who seemed to furrow their brows.

"...How about we open it?"

Wally suggested. Howdy looked back at him in surprise.

"B-but we can't just do that! I've been told not to open it before Frank arives!"

"Why did Frank even send this anyway?"

"Do you have any more information to provide, Howdy?"

Y7/N4 the provider of Howdys products questioned their friend. The catapillar began to recall his memories.

"Hmm... Well, all that Eddie told me was to be gentle with it and wait until Frank comes back just as I said. Though... I did hear some weird noises coming from it..."

"Ooh! Ooh! A mystery to solve! Does that help, detective Hearty?"

Sally faced Heart Bot with expectancy.

The Robot gave a shrug before snatching a pair of scissors from behind the counter. Howdy paniked at this.

"Wha-what are you doing?"

"Procceeding to open the package. Is it not obvious?"

Heart bot tilted their head.

"We can't just do that! It'll be rude!"

"As far as I'm concerned, maybe you should start considering the safety of your shop first, friend."

The catapillar opened his mouth to say something though quickly slumped back down.

Howdy mumbled something but stood back, clearly not excited as the star next to him. Wally looked between the two though shrugged it off. He seemed to prioritize his curiousity first.

The singular organic heart, wired through Y7/N4's circuits stinged for a moment.

They didn't understand much, though they continued to follow through their inicial plan.

Wally and Sally stood by with interest, Howdy not so much enthusiastic as the scissor made it's first cut.

Then the next, then the box now had an opening in an instant. It was still closed, ready to open at any given moment. The room filled with suspence as the robotic hands slowly made it's way to open it.

"...Everybody ready?"

"Ready."

"READY!"

"...ok."

"Alright, on the count of three. Three, two, one..."

"JULLIE!!"

"JULLIE?!"

The doors of the shop opened in sync with the reveal of the package.

Inside the box was a pink, snoring friend who was curled up in a ball, wincing at the sudden exposure to light.

As her groan echoed, Frank who slammed the doors of the shop took notice and rushed over, pushing the others aside.

"Jullie! I told you to not slumber upon the packages!"

"But they're soooo comfyyyy...."

Jullie began to snuggle back into the small box while Frank tried to pull her out.

"Inside the mystery box was... A FRIEND?! Golly, what a shinning discovery! Good job, detective!"

Sally playfully hit the shoulder of the robot next to her.

"Detective? Mystery? What in the world are you going on about??"

Frank angrily demanded an answer, pulling up sleepy Jullie who mumbled complaints annoyed.

"First of all, may I know how... this, ended up here?"

Y7/N4 got up, brushing off debree from their legs.

"I was packaging framed butterflies for Howdy as he was looking at my prized collection with great intent! Jullie insisted on asisting with boxing but..."

Frank glared down at his friend who made an innocent face.

"... decided that she wanted to be one with the cat..."

"Hm... A cat I see."

The group looked back in surprise, jumping at the sudden voice behind them.

It was Barnaby, with Wally suddenly appearing on his shoulder.

"What a Catastrophy of events! It seems that Jullie is purrmenantly banned from helping with boxes eh?"

Barnaby joked earning a few laughs from a few.

"Since when were you there, Barnaby?"

Jullie peeked through her silky hair.

"Just a few moments ago! The Narrator and Poppy were talking bout somethin I wasn't really interested in particullar so I came down here out of boredom. And for treats!"

Barnaby smiled with glee.

Again, the room filled with giggles.

Frank rolled his eyes though sighed in relief that he was able to find his friend safe.

"At least I know you're here. It is very unusual for you to disappear without a sound so I was worried sick!"

"Oh Frank, you're such a friend!"

Jullie hugged the grumpy neighbor.

Everyone began to chat, laughing about the silly situation. Laughter combined with Frank's light scolding and Jullies nonchalant jokes echoed through the building.

Though, opposing to the light and peppy atmosphere, the shop keeper and factory worker stood at the side, away from the party.

It was very quiet.

It was very tense.

It was also pretty awkward, to say the least.

Howdy fidgeted with his two sets of hands, while 7Y/N4 kept on buzzing ominously in silence. They felt short glances being flick at them from time to time, which they took notice easily. Their circuits were screaming to break the silence, a weird grip was tugging on their organic heart.

So that's what they did.

"... My deepest and sincerist apologies from earlier, Howdy. I understand that I may have scarred your pride and care for your buisiness."

That sure was one way to start.

Howdy was surprised by the sudden ice breaker, though quickly formed a reply.

"Oh no no no! It's totally alright! You haven't done anything wrong really!"

"Ah, then I must've irritated you by trying to carry the box as you seemed to be in distress and how I keep on visiting you through business purposes."

"What? No! What gave you that idea?!"

The robot tilted their head as if they were confused.

"Dear Howdy. Howdy Dear. Howdy... pillar. Yes? no? Well, for my reasoning, you seem awfully tense escpeacially in my presence. "

They put a hand on his shoulder.

"It is alright if you are uncomfortable. You are my friend after all."

Howdy looked back down at Y7/... ahem... y/n's face in an attempt to sort out his thoughts.

"It's erm... nothing much really it's just... may I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

...

"Oh, er... of course!"

"... Well, do you really think that I'm... careless about my own business?"

There was a moment of silence.

The robot seemed to freeze at the question. It was a long period of time as Howdy began to wonder i they had crashed in some way or another. As he was waving a hand infront o their face, y/n snatched his hand suddenly making him jump.

"Of course not. Do you even think that I am not observant enough to realize the passion and love you put into your prized and most beloved, sweet, cozy Bugdega?"

The catapillar was not expecting such a detailed response.

"Err- well, no but you said-"

"Apologies for my unclear intentions... What I was trying to say was that-"

They looked back at everyone who seemed to began going back to what they were originally doing, getting over the Jullie incident.

"-you should focus more on how you percieve your customers, and how that can affect your shop, Yourself even. It is not uncommon to have strange and dangerous orders to my factory."

Y/n let go of the catapillar's arm as they faced him with sincerity. Howdy took ahold of his wrist surprised by his friend's words but noded understandingly.

"Oh, um... I see. "

He looked around.

"Well, now I think I understand actually. I usually struggle to question most but... Thanks y/n. You're really such a friend!"

A genuine smile spread across his face.

"What can I say? Is there anything this detective can't solve?"

y/n attempted to imitated a silly yet smug pose, successfully earning a laugh from their friend. They imitated a sigh in relief, also making static giggle noises at their happy friend.

Although the two failed to notice, the others were actually watching from afar, content to see that the tense atmosphere died down between the two. Sally and Wally had completely forgotten about the materials!

Y/n patted Howdy's shoulder lightly as they motioned to the sky. Looking up at the sky, it was begining to get dark. Taking notice, they flipped the sign to 'CLOSED' and began to start tidying up the place.

Howdy soon rushed over to help, thinking back on the last thing the Factory worker said.

"...No. I don't think there's anything you can't solve with that determination mate."

...

..

.

"Oh, there's only 28 apples by the way."

"WHAT-"

"whoops-"

(A/N)

Hello, and hello. Thank you all for the read :) Apologies is this was a bit on the nose and out of character but hope you enjoyed!

The heart reader design is mainly up to you other than it's main concept as I still need something to write off of...

As stated at the start, I also have a Narrator reader fic, and I'll be overlapping their existence with the robot reader though I can do seperately if desired.

I shall take requests and asks for this one as well.

Of course I will continue with the Narrator! But just wanted to put this out as well :) Thanks again!

[utilitycaster]

Well now im curious, what are your top 10 etiquette violations

I'm not actually sure there are 10 tbh in that these are relatively broad - you could split them up more finely if you wanted but they cover a wide range of behavior. Also this is...a bit stream of consciousness. I do stand by 1 as the absolute Golden Rule of D&D in that it's really just so Me Me Me (more so than main character syndrome) that it's inexcusable, but like...rules 2- 6 are kind of all in the same nebulous position in my mind as are rules 7-10. 2-6 are "really bad, have a talk and be prepared to kick this person out if they don't shape up and honestly I would probably not want to hang out with them irl much if they don't shape up" and 7-10 are "maybe don't invite them to game nights but they could be okay otherwise."

Deliberately going against the general vibe of the table. This is the broadest but also obviously worst trait. If everyone else is here to play a serious playthrough of Curse of Strahd and they're all vampire hunters and whatnot and you're playing a clown in a hawaiian shirt named Jeff you are not funny; you are an asshole. I think that person who made the post of like "I'm playing D&D with my dad's friends and they're all fighters with tragic backstory and I'm a neon firbolg who resurrects our enemies and runs therapy sessions" should be beaten with hammers. Like, be unique, but if everyone else is going for a lighthearted vibe it's not time to bust out your darkest PC and vice versa. (This also goes deeper, like, if your table has decided PC death in-game is okay, you can request a change, but if you've never spoken up about this and then your character dies and you pitch a fit, that's on you.)

"Um actually my rich family solves this" and similar circumventing of obstacles in a way that cuts off all story avenues. It's fine to offer your services to help - sometimes the party will want it! But the worst player I've played with (who still did not violate Item 1) did this and short-circuited like 75% of the plot by being like "well my wealthy merchant family can probably smooth this over" and I wanted to, well, beat them with hammers. Brian Murphy of Naddpod calls this "showing up and trying not to play D&D" and he's right.

Closely related to/overlapping with item 2 but Main Character Syndrome. If you're a wizard and there's a nonurgent trial of strength? that is for the barbarian. If they ask for help, go for it, but don't just do everything. Share the table. Self-explanatory but man do some people not get it. I'm also grouping this with "my character wouldn't help" behaviors. Like to be clear, forgoing your turn as a roleplay thing is fine, but another Naddpod D&D Court regular topic is like "the player for whatever reason would not join combat bc their character wouldn't, and we nearly had a tpk because the encounter assumed our fucking cleric would be there".

Actually violating player agency. Closely relating to 2-3. Conflict is great and good. I think it's fine to lie, cheat, and steal from your party members if your table agrees on that. There are spells or abilities that lead to possession which is also valid if your table has talked through that. But you do not get to otherwise like, force another player character to do your bidding (unless your table has, again, decided this is okay). You cannot persuasion check other PCs into going against their desires unless that's a very specific conversation you've had out of character as a table. Even in game, like, the DC on persuasion checks can be arbitrarily high - even impossible - if someone would simply never do it.

Noncombat/non-violent D&D. There are other TTRPGs that are not heavily based on war games with character classes that aren't like 90% battle abilities and you should check those out. Anyone who plays noncombat/nonviolent D&D and is proud of it is dumb as the bag of hammers I'm beating the people of items 1 and 2 for and I don't respect them. I guess this isn't so much an etiquette violation in that if your entire table wants this you can all be terrible together, but it is kind of a dick move, especially since I both love D&D and find the anti-D&D crowd to largely be the most sour grapes-ass losers of all time, but also believe passionately that there are many things D&D does not achieve well because it is in fact a specific game with specific objectives. You should, if you want to play a game that is all social encounters and skill checks and no fighting, play the many indie games that would love your patronage and suit you admirably, not the most neutered, milquetoast, unsalted margarine version of D&D. I genuinely believe that people playing murderhobos or hardcore metagamers are VASTLY preferable.

Not making a good faith effort to know the rules. You do not have to be good at D&D. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting for not knowing every rule of D&D. You only have to let the soft animal of your body have at least read the rules of your character's class, subclass, and race, and show up prepared, instead of being like "tee hee I listened to 5 episodes of TAZ Balance and am going to twirl my hair at the DM and hope they help little old me." The DM is BUSY and has SHIT TO DO. Read the fucking manual. It's okay to be wrong! It's not okay to be clueless on purpose.

Rules for Thee and Not For Me. Mostly a DM thing, and to be clear, the DM does have special rules bc they are the special one and this is obviously not about that. There are also rules that apply to NPCs/stat blocks and not PCs, and those are inherent to the balance of the game and are fine because NPCs have different abilities. But if, for example, you are requiring an athletics check of PCs to climb up on a ledge and don't permit acrobatics, your rogue NPC villain can't do acrobatics either unless they have some specific pre-written ability.

Metagaming pt 1: excessive metagaming: Part 2 will reveal the "excessive" but like. If you know trolls regenerate because you've been playing D&D for years but you are a level 4 INT 8 sorcerer in-game? you do not know trolls regenerate.

Metagaming pt 2: refusal to engage with the fact that this is a game: Sometimes you get the reverse, when people are like "well my character wouldn't realize that this magic item was important to your character" despite the other person RP-ing everything or "would I notice you were knocked out directly in front of me? It's a pitched battle!" Like. don't cheat but come on bro. This is, ultimately, a game. I will once again bring up Naddpod both because D&D Court exists AND they will do rule of funny shit (as Murph once pointed out, if you want to say you go to Ruby Tuesday's as a joke, great, if you try to use it mechanically, no, which is a healthy attitude towards immersion) AND Murph understands the concept of kayfabe.

Really extensive indecision that doesn't involve the whole party. This is mostly me but like. it's not fun, and I am impatient. If you're not an actual play livestream, you should take a break and in fact talk out of game and resume because god this drags. If everyone's on board obviously go for it but if it's one person's choice...babe the spotlight is on you, sing your solo or leave.

Basically: remember you are at a table with other people and you are telling a collaborative story in a system that is combat-heavy. I'm not bothered by (for example) someone stealing another character's item so long as they understand that this may lead to consequences for them! If you can dish it out but you're prepared to take it and your table trusts each other? Great! The problem is when people try to win against the other players, ask for special treatment they do not grant others, waste everyone's time unnecessarily, or skip to the end of the story; that's against the fundamental nature of the game. It's inconsiderate AND it misses the point.

[ganondoodle]

genuine genuine genuine question- wwwhy do you not like the zonai? (zonau? not sure if thats like. the worlds coolest plural or a translation difference) given your content with more monstery designs i would have thought they'd be up your alley!! however. i have also not played skyward sword (as much as id like to) and i know most of peoples upset with their existence and the totk storyline is because of its conflicts with that plot? i'm very excited to see what you do with your rewrite/botw2!! given their slight presence in faron in botw, it would be cool to see you repurpose the zonai in some way that doesn't conflict with the plot you're going for, something that makes more sense with the cryptic kinda bare minimum we had in botw? sorry if you've explained your stance on the zonai before <3

hhhhhhhh i had ranted alot about it but i hope you are prepared- (also "zonai" is sonau in german but im choosing to write it with a z so people recognize it at least, im pretty sure zonau is also the orignal japanese word for them)

i am fine with their design, in fact, i LIKE their character designs, however i dont like everything else about them.

and no its also not bc it affects skyward sword bc it doesnt affect ANYTHING in skyward sword, bc skyward sword is the VERY FIRST zelda game in the timeline and totk is nowhere near it, totk draws several paralels towards skysw bc its meant a sort of soft reset for this new era but its really just thematic overlap and references bc those are cool (i know alot of people are trying to convince the entire fandom that totk somehow is crammed into the old timeline but trust me its never anywhere near confirmed nor does it make any sense, heres the lil graphic i made last month to clarify how i think its meant to be understood .. quite obviously even -

i dont mean to sound .. mean, but some people read too much into little phrases or references to older titles (like first king of hyrule .. doesnt have to mean the literal firstest of the first ones in all of forgotten history ever, just the first of THIS hyrule for example), and while im not against theories i am very annoyed when people try to say its somehow canon when its NOT)

with that out of the way;

i dont like how they are 'integrated' into botws world, they feel unnatural and shoved in everywhere, they have been everywhere and did everythign better and cooler and no part of (this) hyrule was untouched by them their architecture feels not integrated well either and design wise its rather bland, while the sheikah shrines for example while obviously not natural and very 'techy' they still build a harmonizing contrast while the totk shrines are pretty laughably unfitting compared to them the basically complete disappearance of all sheikah tech related stuff bothers me immensely bc why would you just get rid of it istead of developing it further (i know about purahs towers and think they are just like a worse version of the previous ones; and before this argument comes up again, them destryoing it all -somehow- bc they were afraid of it being taken over again is a dumb excuse bc then they should be even more scared of zonau tech- even MORE unknown and advanced tech literally falling from the sky) you could have done SO MUCH with the ancient shiekah tech it drives me nuts

i also think it tipped the delicate balance of the kinda medival setting + high tech that botw had set up compeltely over, the zonau tech just .. is so painfully obviously only the way it is to give you little lego parts to glue together (i know its a focus of the game ... or at least the gamePLAY but it could have been done better, again i think they managed the balance perfectly with shiekah tech, its weird and isnt natural but doesnt endanger the believability of it ... the zonau tech just throws that out the window rly ... how cool would it have been if you could built lil guardian walk thingies djknhfkd )

in general they just feel like a complete replacement for the ancient shiekah and are so SO desperately trying to make the zonau the COOLER and BETTER versions of what the shiekah were (you COULD have connected them in a cool way, like there being ancient shiekah labs build in the old zonau mining facilities bc they used zonau tech as basis for their own tech etc)

like instead of building on the set up and potential botw had prepared, they just scrambled to make a 'better' version of botw, like oh no forget THAT ancient civilization we have an EVEN MORE ancient, and EVEN MORE highly developed peoples there that were also everywhere before you but also were never really hinted at- and then repeat botws structure .__.

having an old and forgotten civilization of whom only some withered ruins remain gave botw a much more real feeling, a world with a history that you will never know (you know, bc that makes it intriguing and is just .. a good choice of worldbuilding imo)- and then totk comes along and reveals everything and also nothing, we know too much of them to be intrigued by their mystery and also not enough to actually care about them (also them beign presented as the good perfectly perfectestest kingdom of light that can do no wrong other than underestimate the eeeevil guy while they also had their hands on every part of the land and made all other races be their face and nameless servants just ... thats weird man!! i know its a game, even if its only aimed at kids my god they arent stupid either!! you really present me with that and expect me to take it at face value what argh)

again i think they COULD have been integrated into it, but the way it was done completely threw me off, im not mad about them EXISTING but about how it was DONE in the game

the way they were done robs not just totk but also botw of mystery and intrigue, for example i much rather had them stay a mystery, only ever talked about in some text and some old and almost completely withered ruins left, you never get so see what happened there in the past, you can only guess, but you have to deal with the fallout anyway and thats just ONE possibility, there are so many and it feels like they chose the most boring one every single time

sometimes knowing less is better than knowing half

(maybe i can make it clearer when .. or if i can get to illustrate what could have worked -in my opinion- better .... sorry for ranting again ;__; )

[a-libra-writes]

Apologies if requests are not open, but could I please have some headcanons (long or short, whichever you prefer) about sleeping in the same bed as Mordecai Heller? Like how long it would take to get to that point and how he sleeps maybe?

Sooo uhhh I went a bit overboard so uhhhh, enjoy this fanfic of the 3 times you and Mordecai slept next to each other. its nearly 4k and also GN reader lets goooooo!

The first time you slept next to each other.

You peeled yourself out of the car, your clothes sticking to the soaked seat just as they stuck to your skin. The rain was unending, beating down on your face and your eyes. The door slammed shut, the sound muffled by the storm. There was no point in pulling your coat over your head. The window shield and passenger window had long been shot out, exposing you and your fellow triggerman to the elements.

With his dark colors and clothes, Mordecai almost disappeared in the night. You felt around the car, trying to make your way to him. You still had to shout over the rain and thunder. "Over there!"

"Where?"

"A house! I'll show you!"

It was so dark, you couldn't figure what Mordecai was doing until he turned on the flashlight. The beam was pathetic against the night and the rain, but it was something. He shone it toward the car so the guns could be retrieved, and a filthy briefcase. You took the latter. Then you pointed off into the distance.

"There, I saw a farmhouse," You said. "Still has a roof, I think."

"You think?"

"Most of it. Come on!" You didn't pull his arm, but you walked on ahead. The flimsy light was only a few inches ahead of your face, even with Mordecai two steps behind, so you walked carefully through the sodden grass and dirt.

The door wasn't locked, but stuck. It groaned painfully as you kicked it open, and the whole house seemed to creak and shudder with your violent movement. You stepped in at once, your body shivering even if it wasn't that cold.

"At least it's not snowing," You said. "Just, ah ... muggy. And humid."

"Anything is better than cold," Mordecai grunted. He peeled his coat off, just as you did, but he was far more bothered by how thoroughly soaked everything was. The house was musty and surely filled with mold, but there was a roof, and a smattering of furniture.

You walked about, surveying the pitiful place. "Stairs aren't worth the risk, but the sitting area works just fine."

Your fellow gunman's green eyes danced around the room. He took it in just as swiftly, and came to an immediate conclusion. By this point, you could knew the way those green eyes glared, his ears flattened and his shoulders hunched. The scowl really sold it, though.

"Obviously, not the couch. Or the chairs. I'm fairly certain there's all sorts of little rat surprises in them -"

"And in the walls," Mordecai said, looking toward the one closest to him. He stepped away. You didn't doubt there were probably dozens - well, maybe hundreds around this place.

"It's just for the night - not even that, a few hours -"

"Absolutely not."

"Mordecai," You tried not to let the exhaustion come across in your voice. "We left St. Louis at the crack of dawn, it's nearly dawn again, we can't see a damn thing in this rain and we're both -"

"I can hear them in the walls, there's probably black mold all over the ceiling, I know there's all manner of - of vermin, raccoons and whatever else -"

"We're both too exhausted to drive, and our windshield is ruined. The storm -"

"-- If you think I'll stay one more minute in this dilapidated excuse for a shack, let alone rest -"

" - I know for a fact you can't drive through this, because last time -"

Your overlapping voices were completely drowned out by a massive clap of thunder. The whole house rattled, and you felt the noise deep in your chest, like a hundred drums. Faintly, you wondered if the roof might come off; but this wasn't a tornado. You could swear you heard scurrying and squeaking under the floors, but didn't bring it up.

"One hour," The exhaustion was there now. You didn't bother to hid it. Just holding your shotgun and the briefcase and soaked coat was proving to be too heavy. "Just one hour, Mordecai. Even if the weather was peachy keen, I can't drive like this."

Mabye you really did look pathetic, or he was finally feeling his own fatigue. The shadowy cat looked just as bad, his clothes soaked and disheveled, nearly all of his hair out of place, his glasses threatening to slip off. He sighed heavily.

"One hour."

You let him determine where the place would be. It was beside the fireplace, a section of the living room that was far away from the couches and rugs, nothing but an empty table beside it. You easily moved it aside, cleared the cobwebs and attempted to dust off the floor with a rag Mordecai found in the kitchen. You both hung your coats up on the rickety stair railings, not thinking for a moment they'd actually dry.

Your gun was still at your side as you sat down, your back against the wall. It was an old habit, keeping it close, even for just a few minutes of shut-eye. You flicked the safety on and laid it across your lap, the muzzle facing away from Mordecai. Eventually, very slowly, he carefully lowered himself beside you. Your head pressed against the wall as you leaned back, closing your eyes and taking a breath.

There was no need to look at him to know he was tense. He was probably stiff as a board, his ears twitching as he looked around, hearing who knows what in the walls and the floorboards. You knew he had a thing about rats, and spiders. You made sure he didn't see the cobwebs.

"Try to sleep," You muttered. "I won't let you nap in the car back to the city."

He scoffed. "You're better worrying about if you'll fall asleep at the wheel."

"I won't, because I'm sleeping. The thing you should try."

You heard him shift his weight. The wet clothes made it easy to perceive, but anything else was difficult. The fatigue was hitting hard, weighing down your eyelids and settling over your sore, cold body. You'd feel stiff and miserable when you woke up, but the storm would be gone. At some point, you may have felt a weight against your shoulder - something wet, and not that heavy, but it was hard to say.

By the time you woke up, that sensation was gone. You awoke with a start, grasping your gun and looking around. It was bright. The sun was leaking through the broken glass windows. Your bleary eyes darted all around, looking for someone - and your heart finally settled when you saw him.

Mordecai put his glasses back on his face. Somehow, he was even more of a mess than before. Maybe it was just easier to see it in the morning light -

"... What time is it?" You asked, your voice hoarse.

"Time to go," Mordecai said. He'd retrieved his coat, as well as your own. The briefcase was in his other hand.

On the way out of the house, you rubbed your shoulder. For whatever reason, you were especially sore there.

The first time you slept in his bed.

For the past few hours, you’d done nothing but look at ceilings. First was the shithole you’d barged into, though looking up at that was better than the angry mug that was looming over you, ready to put a bullet in your head. He would’ve done it, if not for Viktor’s spectacular tackle. Then the ceiling — roof? — of the car. Then … the garage, you thought. It seemed like a garage, but maybe not the one you were most familiar with. Did they take you back to the Lackadaisy? No, the drive was too short … Well, whoever’s ceiling it was, it was leaking. Now this ceiling — simple, clean, blissfully not leaking.

You blinked at it several times, unsure what time it was. Your stomach was churning, your head was hammering. It was hard to tell if you wanted water, or food, or something to put you back asleep. Something itched at your eye — you realized only one was open, strange — and you reached for it.

“Stop that,” A voice. A familiar one that made relief wash over so quickly, it was dizzying. “Don’t fuss with it.”

You tried to say his name, but it was too many vowels. They came out in a jumble. “Where’m …”

“You’re back at the cafe. I just said to stop touching it.” Mordecai scolded. His dark figure came into your blurry vision, reaching for something you couldn’t see. Oh, it was your hand. He put it back on the bed. With your good eye, you scanned your surroundings, even lifting your pouding head. There was a lamp with a soft glow, some kind of dresser-table-thing. That desk looked familiar. You groaned and fell back on the pillow.

“Wha’s th’ damage?”

“Stitches on the side of your head, a black eye, and probably a concussion.” He said. You could see his tail swishing behind him, and it was hard to tell if it was quick agitation or slow annoyance. It was hard to tell with your addled mind.

“Oh.”

“The morphine is wearing off by now.”

“Yeah.”

He turned away, leaving your bedside. No, this wasn’t your bed. You didn’t live in the Little Daisy’s building. You squinted, recognizing that desk and that plant in the corner. You noticed the dark coat hanging on the door.

Oh, this was his bed. For a crazy moment, you thought you were dying. ... No, not dying. He’d just leave you in the car if that was the case. Still, it was strange being here on this bed in this position. Normally you hung around the doorway, or sat by his desk if you wanted to pester him.

“You need… n’ ‘prtment,” You slurred.

“What was that?”

“App- ‘artm’nt… you.” Your finger pointed to him, though it was hard to keep it straight.

Mordecai sighed and turned back to whatever he had been doing. “Go back to sleep. You’re more incomprehensible than usual.”

The words were all jumbled in your mouth, just as much of a jigsaw as the thoughts in your head. You wanted to explain that if there was a couch, you could take that. You could’ve gone to your own home, though recovering alone with an apparent concussion didn’t sound pleasant. Where would he sleep? Was this alright? Would he burn the sheets, or wash them three times then painstakingly get a magnifying glass and tweezers and pick up every strand of hair you left behind?

“What are you smiling about?” He asked, utterly exasperated. You giggled.

“Nothin’. M’ sleepy.”

You rolled over to your good side, and pain immediately shot up the other side of your body. You groaned, clutching the sheets as you waited for it to pass. Mordecai immediately reached for you, anticipating you’d roll right off the bed, but you didn’t. His arm slowly dropped to his side. He waited, watching the smile slowly slide off your lips. Your breathing slowed, and your hand relaxed. You released the sheet. The bandages were still in place, no blood staining them yet. He needed a way to keep you from tossing in your sleep.

Exhausted from both the night’s illicit activities and then the frenzy to get you to an ex-nurse Viktor insisted on, he dragged his desk chair over to his bedside. Your bedside now, maybe. He was trying not to notice the stray hairs on the sheets — his own black ones bothered him enough. He sat down, figuring how he might keep you from turning. If the morphine was still in your system, you might not feel them if you scratched in your sleep or turned too much … He rubbed his eyes and rested his elbows on the edge of the bed.

The bed was always cold when he eventually laid down each night, but it was warm this time. It struck him as unusual, out of place, not part of the routine, but … not bad.

At some point, there was a knock. He may have dreamed it. Mordecai’s whole body tensed, and he flew to his feet, nearly tripping over the chair he was seated in. It teetered, but chose not to clatter to the floor. You were still asleep in the same position, not the slightest disturbed. Then his eyes flew to the actual source of the noise — the young gunman’s body had been running on adrenaline for hours, only relaxing in the past hour — wait, had he fallen asleep? — but it shot back up as he turned on the intruder in the doorway.

Mitzi gasped. She put her hand to her chest, startled by his sudden movements. “Oh — sorry, sweetie. I would have knocked, but …” She glanced over to the bed. “I didn’t want to disturb the two of you.”

Mordecai said nothing, but his face heated painfully from both embarrassment and panic. His heart was still racing, and the distinct, strange agitation he always felt around Atlas’ new bride was crawling up. She was intruding, on multiple accounts. His room, the disheveled state he was in, the state you were in. Something about someone seeing you like this was raising his hackles, even if he was certainly she wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Mitzi wasn’t deterred by his glare, fearsome as it was. Her worry was too strong. “It was a close one, wasn’t it?”

“… Not especially,” Mordecai eventually replied. Yes, it was a lot of blood, but that was the nature of head wounds. And yes, it was a metal pipe, and the fact you didn’t get up right away, but — you were here now, sleeping and breathing with all your brains inside. He didn’t like the way her eyes fell on your prone body, full of pity.

“Poor thing. First thing in the morning, I’ll call the doctor —”

“The horse doctor?” Mordecai didn’t even want to say that charlatan’s name. “Absolutely not.”

Mitzi’s perfectly arched eyebrows raised just so. “You’ve already arranged treatment, then?”

“Yes, a friend of Viktor’s. It’s been dealt with, there’s no need to call a charlatan. He’ll just change the bandage and overcharge us on morphine.”

“I see you feel strongly about it,” She said. It was a simple statement that dug at him, and he couldn’t place why. Why did she have to hang around all the time? Why did she care to talk to her husband’s triggermen? Mitzi stopped leaning on the doorway, knowing full well she was unwelcome. “Well, tell me if you need any more pillows, dear — for either of you.”

He could have grit his teeth — he did, but his utterly exhausted and rattled expression completely lost on Mitzi. She’d already turned her back and left, walking with a grace that made her footsteps almost imperceptible … especially when she wasn’t wearing her heels. Mordecai moved the chair back into place, trying to will himself to calm down. You were still blissfully unaware, still in the same place as he left you, before he… dozed off. Granted, it was just his arms and head that were on the bed, but it still bothered the black cat. His heart still wasn’t settling down; he almost felt jittery.

Mordecai thought he was used to all this — the shooting, the running, the close calls. He didn’t understand why the fear was hitting so hard, why now it was all rearing up. Hadn’t there been closer calls? Maybe for himself. Maybe for you — he never asked. It was hard to imagine you getting in a worse scrap than this.

He didn’t want to look at your relaxed sleeping form anymore. It contrasted too sharply with the bruises growing across your face, and the bandages wound tightly around your head. With a sigh, he stood, moved the chair back to his desk and tried to occupy himself with some paperwork. Better to fall asleep here, than the … other option. Even if the other option was much warmer.

The first time he slept in your bed.

Upon returning from the bathroom, you discovered that Mordecai was both dressed and still staring at the bed.

That was a little worrisome. The past hour or two had been … well, a lot. For him, especially. You hadn’t considered what how Mordecai might act after it all happened. You were so focused on helping him through the present, you hadn’t thought that far ahead.

This didn’t seem like an oh-god-what-have-I-done kind of 1000 yard stare, though. You knew this expression. His ears were a little flat, his tail twitched, he was focusing very hard on… something. A specific something. Your partner (could you call him that now?) was trying to problem solve.

You walked over beside him, quickly puzzling what the issue was. You kept brushing your teeth, glancing over to him. Those white eyebrows were totally furrowed in concentration. God, it was like when he’d get worked up over a chess match with Viktor. It was painfully endearing.

You knew he knew that you were standing there. You also knew he was trying to avoid looking at you, even though you were no longer naked. You’d thrown on nightclothes for his sake, assuming he’d do the same … and yup, he did. Finally, with your tail swishing and speaking around your toothbrush, you offered, “It’s alright. Happens a lot.”

Mordecai nearly flinched. “Do .. Do people just … ignore it? You can’t tell me they … sleep on it ..."

“They'll sleep around it, if they notice. Sometimes there’s not a mess, because clothes are in the way, or position, or they aren’t on the bed at —”

His fur was completely standing on edge, his tail puffed out like he’d seen a spider. Mordecai threw a hand up. “Don’t - that’s enough. I don’t need to hear any more. People are repulsive. They’re animals.”

“Mmhm.” Talking around your toothbrush made some toothpaste and spittle run down your chin. Mordecai was mortified. He turned on his heel and walked over to the dresser, where at some point, he’d folded his and your clothes. That was also painfully sweet, and ridiculous. He was getting something out of his coat pocket.

“I’ll get new sheets,” You said.

But first, you went back to the bathroom to spit in the sink, wash off your toothbrush and gargle some water. You spat again, idly rubbing at your chin. Back in the room, Mordecai had already stripped the bedding and was handling it like it was covered in plague. He was obviously mentally debating between leaving it rumpled and tossing it out the window, or folding before the tossing.

You made the decision for him, taking the sheets off his hands. “Clean ones are in the broom closet, down the hall.”

“The one you haven’t dusted in months?”

You had to laugh. “Excuse you, I did it last week. I dusted the bookshelves too, and scrubbed the kitchen tile, and the bathroom — I know how you like things.”

His sharp expression softened. “I noticed,” He said softly, all the prickly anxiety and nerves slowly melting. You wanted to touch him, to express the affection that was building up — no, it was always there, and it was wanting to spill out again. But after the huge chasm you two just jumped over, you wanted to be careful.

While you went to setting aside the dirty laundry, Mordecai brought in the clean sheets and fitted them over the mattress. It was better and neater than you’d ever seen it, like a hotel. You went ahead and changed the pillowcases, even if there was no need, and you felt his eyes on you as you did so.

“All done,” You said. “What do you think? Do you want a clean blanket, too?”

It was a genuine question, not a mocking one. You’d been considerate like that all evening — how is this? Is it okay? Should I stop? Do you need to breath? — and the tall cat was trying to come to terms with it. As much as it bothered him, he had needed to stop, and breath, because sometimes he wasn’t okay. He didn’t know why, and it hadn’t been a problem — well, much of one, before you. But it wasn’t you treating him like a problem, it was himself.

It was difficult, all of this. Rather than thinking any further, he pulled out a hankerchief and cleaned off that damn toothpaste you left.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” He grumbled, but you only smiled.

“Thanks.” You turned off the nightstand lamp and climbed into bed. You knew he’d take some time to join you. If he really lingered, you’d offer to move to the couch, but eventually you felt the bed shift and you felt the covers move. Then his body shifted — you could tell he was facing away from you.

Your brain was telling you to be careful, to slow down, but sometimes it hurt you to stay so far apart. It physically ached to have to linger right on the edge. So you risked it, slowly turning over and moving yourself closer. You pressed your face to his back, lightly, and rested your hand on his side.

Mordecai’s whole body tensed up. His tail froze against your legs, and you watched his ears stick up. You waited. After a few seconds, he slowly settled. You pulled your hand away, and you watched the outline of his body relax.

You wanted to say something. He did good. Great, even. He tried hard, for your sake, to overcome a great mental hurdle. You knew that, and you ought to be more respectful of his space. He’d already given so much to you. So rather than wrap him up and overwhelm him with all the kisses and touches and affection you had, you stayed there, your tail gently brushing against his.

“Thank you,” Your voice said quietly, barely disrupting the darkness. Some moonlight was peaking through the blinds, just enough for you to make out Mordecai’s dark silhouette. “We don’t have to … you know, anytime soon. Or ever, if you want. I’ll — regardless, it won’t change my feelings. I like being close to you.”

It was maybe a fraction of how you truly felt. That physical ache was back, but you had to stop here. You weren’t ready to say it all, not yet. There wasn’t an immediate response, and you didn’t expect one. You listened to his steady breathing, feeling solace in it.

Mordecai reached behind him, carefully taking your arm and putting it back over his middle. You pulled him in, just so, nestling your body against his. He didn’t flinch, even as your legs brushed each other and you pressed your face against his warm back, taking in a deep breath. Of course he’d immediately showered right after, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. He smelled like your soap.

[ginnymoonbeam]

10 BL Boys I Want Carnally

Tagged by @bengiyo, who has excellent taste even though our character overlap is much smaller than our actor overlap.

Tian, A Tale of Thousand Stars

gif by smittenskitten

There was obviously gonna be a Mix character on this list, but I had to think for a bit about which one. Came down on Tian, he's the right level of brat for me.

Payu, Love in the Air

gif by thyla

For all the obvious reasons.

Wang, 180 Degrees

gif by 25shadesoffebruary

He's tried to work out his daddy issues via seduction, maybe I can help w-- *hook drags me off stage*

The One, Midnight Museum

gif by earthfluuke

It would probably be all mind games and I'm fine with that.

Ritsu, The End of the World With You

gif by perths

He's my exact flavor of damaged plus you know he's good in bed.

Kijima Rio, The Pornographer series

gif by maki-ryota

Also my exact flavor of damaged, thank you again Miki Koichiro for my entire life. (There were so many filthier gifs I could have picked for this one.)

Tutor, Why R U

gif by gabrielokun

The way he uses those eyes is probably illegal in some states.

Charn, Laws of Attraction

gif by jimmysea

By now we have established some things about my taste in men, yes?

Ye Xingsi, History 4: Close to You

gif by leixinyus

Out of the whole list this is probably the one I am most actively feral for and I have no explanation. He pings something in my lizard brain. I couldn't find any gifs of the scenes that really drive me wild, which is probably to the good as far as most of y'all are concerned.

Tharn, The Sign

gif by maxescheibechlinichacheli

A newcomer but oh what a powerful contender.

Thank you I hope you've enjoyed this journey into my not-so-private lusts. If you want to play, consider yourself tagged!

[thedroloisms]

just an essay bc it's been on my mind but the way that victimhood becomes a weapon on social media is so fucking stupid and counterintuitive to actual advocacy. people wielding "im a victim" as a defense not only in situations actually involving their specific case but also in basically every damn situation in the world is so ???? even in cases involving dream, for example, i will see people using his history as a means of defending him (it's really fucked up that you would accuse a victim of ___, he's an abuse victim i'm sure he won't defend ___ and that he'll ___) and while i understand where that sentiment comes from, the base assumption it's making is...nakedly untrue. and assuming its truthfulness can hurt victims moreso than it helps them.

being a victim isn't moralizing. being a victim doesn't make you a good person. suffering isn't absolution, and going through fucked up shit doesn't make someone "good." people equate abuser = bad person and victim = good person, and then assume that victims are incapable of abusive behavior or "problematic" internalized ideas. an abuser can't be neurodivergent, or mentally ill, or part of a marginalized group, and most importantly an abuser can't be a victim. the boxes of victim and abuser are strictly defined with no overlap. once you've been through something truly, verifiably, Fucked Up (tm), congrats! you get a certificate of eternal victimhood that prevents you from ever being a Real Bad Person ever for the rest of your life.

only that's not how real life works! it's just not! generational trauma leads to cycles of abuse that perpetuate themselves over whole generations of people! the kids that think that it's perfectly fine and a-okay for a parent to physically punish their children don't tend to be the ones with parents that don't lay a finger on them! and you know, it sucks. it sucks that you get nothing out of being hurt, that there's no fucking prize, that there are no suffering vouchers for you to cash in because of the abuse you suffered that can give you good-person-points. it sucks to endure all that shit for nothing. but the opposite idea of suffering making you a good person is the exact reason why some people preach about the miles they walked to school in the driving rain to excuse taking out their shitty temper on their small children.

being abused generally doesn't make one "better." if anything, trauma tends to fuck you up in ways that hurt you...and others. going through shit tends to make people worse. working to get better is something that requires actual conscious effort, not something that you are given as a side effect of going through hell. over and over again, traumatized individuals who are made to feel powerless and given little freedom and ability to change their circumstances, when in a situation where they are given power to some degree over some person, may choose to abuse that power while they're in their own abusive situation or after. part of being a victim of abuse often means having a distorted view of the abuse you've been through! it can mean normalizing fucked up behavior! looking at shit and treating it lightly because you've been taught that it's "not that bad," if you've been taught that it's bad at all! victims aren't granted perfect ideologies from god because they walked through flames--cult survivors usually have to unlearn all sorts of messed up beliefs that were drilled into them--beliefs that many people on twitter would then damn them for, because obviously if you've thought something like that in the past then you're a bigoted hateful individual.

i can only speak from my own experience, but i can't fucking count the number of people i've heard of or met or known personally who have been through some kind of trauma in the past, who are undoubtably victims of abuse, who then go on to act in toxic, manipulative, and abusive ways to others. oftentimes, these people are aware of the fact that they were in abusive situations in the past and make quite a big deal about the fact that they care about victims, as a victim, and want to advocate for them. they're the same people who react extremely negatively to anyone alluding to the idea that they could be abusive--they're not like that, they've been abused, how could anyone accuse them of abusing another person, don't they know how much that hurts with their history. and so on and so forth.

and...i have a lot of sympathy for these individuals, generally speaking. because as mentioned above, being abused in the past doesn't necessarily make it harder for you to be a perpetrator in the future. sometimes--oftentimes, even--it's the opposite. and i feel for them, because going through trauma and being hurt makes you scramble for ways to not be hurt again, and oftentimes the easiest answer for that (and the ways of solving problems as modeled to them in the past!) is control, and controlling another party can very easily slip into manipulative, abusive behavior. especially if you still have internalized ideas mixed in with the fear that surviving abuse entails, internalized ideas that are often left unexamined by people who believe that their victimhood absolves them from any further responsibility. i feel for people who are deathly afraid of ever being seen as terrible people, oftentimes because of the shit that they went through, who seek explanations for their abusers' behavior that make it so much easier to simplify the matter into "they're something separate from me, something that i can never become." i sympathize with the anger and fear and frustration and grief that might never had had a healthy outlet while in a past situation that ends up poured out into places where it shouldn't be in the present, i sympathize with the desire to find reason in being hurt where it doesn't exist, to want there to be something to make the whole damn thing worth it instead of having nothing to take with you but your pain.

but at the end of the day, that's not how life works. that's not how abuse works. yeah, there are abusers who are cruel for cruelty's sake, who are aware of the harm they do and desire to cause more--and there are just as many who genuinely believe that they're doing the right thing, that they're doing good, that they care for the one that they're hurting unselfishly and wholeheartedly. there are many, many people who hurt others because they have been hurt before, and this isn't an excuse--of course not--but refusing to acknowledge the ways that pain can perpetuate itself and blinding oneself to the possibility of their own actions ever being abusive can literally be how this pain continues. it's good to be self aware, it's good to want to do the right thing, but assuming that victims are good people because of the suffering they went through not only means that so-called "bad victims" (or anyone that's not yet Acceptably untangled the thought patterns and actions that have been normalized to them, or anyone who lashes out in quote-unquote appropriate ways as judged by whatever social media council is handing out social justice tickets for the week) get overlooked and ignored, but abusive patterns of behavior are allowed to continue to exist, just in a repackaged form with different language. it's not fair to victims to nail them to this standard of so-called righteousness that is also inextricably connected to their experiences, allowed to be revoked if they're too "abuser" to be "victim" anymore, or to overlook the victims of their behavior because their inherent suffering-borne righteousness keeps them from crossing the line into bad behavior.

at the end of the day, no one deserves abuse, victims deserve to be advocated for, and people who have been through horrific shit didn't deserve to go through horrific shit. but you don't get handed get-out-of-jail-free cards for being treated badly, you know?

[worrysomegus]

Uh, hi! I'm obsessed with the feathers of your dino model!!! How did you make them? They're so smooth and flowy!

they're just planes with images slapped on top

here's the node setup, obviously it's a lot easier to make them pretty in cycles since eevee sucks ass at transparency but it is still possible

here's some wings I made ages ago in eevee, obviously you could make them look way better but I used to be insane and terrible at art

and uuh of course for rigging you just weight paint them, it is a MASSIVE pain since they're so overlapping and stuff, for rigging I made a bunch of bones and set them to copy the rotation of the next bone, I could have done it a lot better and this doesn't really work that well but shut up it's fine

uuuuuuuuuuuuh Ithink that's it yea