#sorry that got long and rambly... DISREGARD

[gf2bellamy]

hello!!! i love your spencer reid fics!!! i'm sorry if you've written something like this before or don't want to lololol pls disregard if so! I would highly appreciate if you wrote an argument fic with spencer, and it just escalates out of nowhere and he yells at reader (😞) and he chooses to sleep on the couch for the night, but he hears her having a nightmare from the bedroom and goes to comfort her ? n she feels very guilty and sad over bothering him again after he was mad and hes like no my baby darling i love u 4ever heart eyes emoji, sorry for my ramble i just love angst to fluff hurt comfort and i want to be babied by spencer sigh,,, love your stuff again and have a great day !

anger — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader having a nigthmare ( no explicit detail of what it is ) , reader and spencer having a fight , emotions run high a/n: hii !! i hope you like this <3 i loved writing this !!

Spencer Reid never yelled.

You knew this with the same certainty as you knew the way he mumbled equations in his sleep or how his hands always hesitated for half a second before touching you , simply because he still got nervous around you. His voice was a living thing, shifting effortlessly between lecture-hall projection and late-night murmurs against your skin, but it always remained controlled.

Until tonight.

It wasn’t shouting—not really. But the way his words turned razor-sharp at the edges, the way his voice cracked over a single syllable —it might as well have been a yell.

His hand raked through his hair, leaving it standing in chaotic tufts. In another moment, you might have smiled at how boyish it made him look. But now, with his shoulders rigid and his breaths coming too fast, all you could think was:

I did that.

The argument had started over something simple—his recklessness in the field, the way he threw himself into danger without hesitation. But then, as arguments often did, it spiraled. Old wounds were opened, and before either of you could stop it, the conversation had turned into something far uglier. 

Now, standing in the suffocating silence of your apartment, you had nothing left to say.

So you turned away, retreating to the bathroom, the click of the door behind you sounding far too final. You leaned against it, your breath shuddering as you pressed your palms against the cool wood. A single tear slipped free before you could stop it, and you swiped it away angrily, as if your own emotions were betraying you. 

Your reflection in the medicine cabinet mirror caught you off guard - eyes glassy and red-rimmed.

On the other side of the door, Spencer stood frozen for a long moment before exhaling sharply. He dragged his hands down his face, guilt already gnawing at him. Instead of following you, he sank onto the couch dropping his head into his hands. 

He didn’t know how long he sat there, caught between regret and exhaustion, but eventually, he moved. With stiff motions, he grabbed the throw blanket draped over the armrest—the one you always curled under during movie nights—and tugged it over himself before lying down.

When you finally emerged, the apartment was quiet. Your steps were slow as you made your way toward the bedroom, but you stopped when you passed the living room. 

There he was. Spencer, stretched out on the couch. Your chest tightened at the sight, a fresh wave of hurt crashing over you.

He’d rather sleep here, cramped and restless, than share a bed with you. 

For a second, you considered going to him. You could reach out, brush your fingers through his hair, murmur an apology—anything to bridge this gap. But the stubborn ache in your heart held you back. 

So you turned away, slipping into the bedroom alone. The bed felt too big, too cold without him, and as you curled into your usual spot, you stared at the empty space beside you.

Spencer was tossing and turning. 

A car passed outside, headlights sweeping across the wall. For a fleeting moment, the light caught on the framed photo on the end table—your smiling faces at JJ's wedding, his arm slung carelessly around your shoulders.

He pressed the heels of his hands against his stinging eyes. The statistics on successful conflict resolution ran through his mind on a loop (87% of couples reconcile within 48 hours, 63% report stronger bonds post-reconciliation) but the numbers turned to ash before they could comfort him.

He should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to sleep without you.

The silence shattered with a whimper.

The sheets rustled violently down the hall, followed by a choked gasp that sent ice flooding his veins. Before his mind could catch up, he was moving—the blanket pooling at his feet, as he moved toward the bedroom.

The sight before him made his stomach twist. 

You were asleep, but barely. Your body twitched under the covers, your fingers clutching at the sheets. A pained expression flickered across your face, your breath coming in uneven gasps. 

A nightmare. 

Spencer crossed the room in two strides. He sat carefully on the edge of the mattress, his hand hovering over your shoulder before he finally let it rest there, his touch feather-light. 

"Hey—" His voice cracked as he reached for you, hands hovering—too afraid to startle, too desperate not to touch. Your skin was fever-hot under his fingertips when he finally brushed them along your arm.

You didn’t wake. 

Your breathing hitched, a quiet sound of distress escaping your lips, and something in Spencer’s chest cracked open. He squeezed your shoulder gently, his other hand brushing the hair back from your forehead. 

Then, you shot upright with a gasp, your eyes flying open, heart hammering against your ribs. For a disoriented second, the room spun—until your gaze landed on Spencer.

The first tear slipped down your cheek.

Then his arms were around you, crushing you against him so tightly you could feel his heartbeat stuttering against your sternum. His lips moved against your hair, whispering words too fractured to make sense—"I'm here, you're safe, I've got you"— as you clutched at his back.

Then, barely audible, you whispered, “I’m sorry for earlier.” 

Spencer stilled. 

Of all the things he expected you to say, that wasn’t it. Not when your breaths were still uneven, not when he could feel the faint tremor in your hands. Guilt twisted sharply in his chest. 

You swallowed hard, your voice fraying at the edges. “I really didn’t mean to be overbearing—” 

“Hey, stop.” His hand cradled the back of your head, his thumb brushing the nape of your neck.

You were sorry? After he’d been the one to raise his voice, after he’d let his frustration push him to sleep on the couch like some petulant child? After you’d been the one to wake up trembling from a nightmare, and his pride had kept him from coming to you sooner?  

He shifted, pulling back just enough to cup your face in his hands. Your eyes were glassy in the faint moonlight, your lower lip caught between your teeth like you were fighting to keep it from trembling. 

God, he’d been an idiot. 

“Look at me,” he whispered. When your gaze flicked up to his, he held it, his thumbs sweeping over your cheeks. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who—” His voice cracked. “I shouldn’t have let it get that far. I shouldn’t have acted like that.” 

You shook your head slightly, but he pressed on, his forehead dipping to rest against yours. 

“I hate fighting with you,” he admitted, the words raw. “And I hate that I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me tonight.” 

A shaky breath escaped you, your hands lifting to grip his wrists. 

“I just worry,” you whispered. 

Spencer’s chest tightened. Of course you did. After everything he’d seen in the field, after every close call, how could you not? 

Spencer's thumb traced the curve of your cheekbone as he whispered, "I know. And I'll be more careful. I promise."

The words settled between you like a vow.

You searched his eyes - those warm, hazel eyes that usually sparkled with facts and theories, now darkened with remorse. Your fingers twisted slightly in the fabric of his worn sweatshirt as you asked, so softly it nearly broke him, "Will you sleep here with me?" 

Spencer's breath caught. The question, so small and tentative, landed like a physical blow. That you even had to ask - that his childish anger had made you doubt whether he'd stay - sent a fresh wave of guilt crashing through him. 

You were asking permission for something that should have been unquestionable. That his anger had carved this hesitation into you, made you doubt your place in his arms.

"Yeah," he breathed, his voice cracking as he gathered you closer. His lips pressed against your forehead, lingering there as if he could imprint the truth through touch alone. "You never have to ask. I'm not going anywhere." 

The bed dipped as he slid beneath the covers. His arms encircled you, pulling your back flush against his chest. His knees tucked behind yours, his heartbeat steady against your shoulder blades, his nose buried in your hair. 

The warm press of his palms against your stomach, fingers splaying possessively calmed you down. The steady thrum of his heartbeat against your spine too.

His nose brushed the nape of your neck.The familiar scent of your shampoo mixed with the salt of dried tears sent another wave of guilt crashing through him. He pressed his lips to the sensitive spot behind your ear.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into the darkness, the words muffled against your skin. "For the couch. For making you feel like I wouldn't want this." His hand found yours, intertwining your fingers and squeezing gently. "There's nowhere I'd rather be." 

You turned in his embrace, your nose brushing against his.

Spencer's hand came up to cradle your jaw, his touch feather-light. "Next time I'm being an idiot," he whispered, "just come get me, okay? Even if I'm mad. Even if I'm stubborn." A small, self-deprecating smile tugged at his lips. "Especially then." 

His nose brushed yours again.

"Drag me back. Yell at me. Throw a book at my head if you have to." A quiet laugh shook his frame, as you smiled at the sound.

You didn't trust your voice not to break so you nodded, pressing closer. Spencer's fingers began a soothing pattern along your spine.

As sleep finally claimed you both, Spencer pressed one last kiss to your temple, his arms tightening slightly around you.

[theesteppenwolf]

More Lucanis rambles because I’m still thinking about it and got nothing better to do :P

I am not here to tell anyone how to feel but putting words into peoples mouths who criticize the Lucanis romance (or Lucanis in general) for being unsatisfactory by saying;

“You don’t know what a slow burn is/ it’s because you expected zevran / you don’t get it he’s traumatized/ you just wanted something spicy and didn’t get it so now you’re mad” etc.

Is completely disregarding the fact that his lack of reactions and lack of content actually led people to believe he is bugged. Most DA fans didn’t expect spice or steam or whatever but they did expect an effective story, one they didn’t get.

This is at the end of the day a visual storytelling medium and implication will only get you so far, if i have to start thinking up entire plotlines in my head to make sense of the story or relationship progression then they failed at good storytelling. If i have to write paragraphs of explanations that the game doesn’t even remotely touch on then that isn’t a slow burn, it’s just a lack of content and poor pacing.

If he is traumatized and reluctant because of it you have to give me a scene where i can actually read that. If he is awkward and doesn’t know how to react to flirting you have to exaggerate to an extent for people to tell. If there is longing and angst give me banter that reflects it.

A romance in a game should give me some kind of deeper personal insight into a character and if i have to do the writers job and in my head think up those insights then the actual romance is mostly moot. I’m not saying give me all the details i’m saying at the very least give me a jumping point, some info buried in the game i won’t get otherwise. His romance fails at this.

Mary Kirby was fired yes and it’s awful what happened but unfortunately the product still remains and it leaves a lot to be desired for a big amount of people. When players are straight up going back on saves to romance someone else it’s a real problem. For me, it soured my first playthrough, especially later when i saw how Davrin and Emmrich had content, convos, specific romance outings and at the bare minimum actually had a noticeable reaction to flirting dialogue.

Again I’m not telling anyone how to feel, if it works for you that’s awesome, but to disregard his obvious lack of content by calling other fans basically stupid is incredibly disingenuous.

I love his character, loved it since The Wigmakers Job and he is still my favorite after my first playthrough. I think the beginning of his romance was very promising and the end is great but everything else is missing I’m sorry. His romance was not well executed and i honestly don’t think his character really was either. (But i won’t vent about that right now)

I know what a slow burn is, i was not expecting Zevran, i did not want a steamy romance. I wanted a well executed story and i didn’t get one. I am critical because i think it could’ve been great, i still love the game and i am not shitting on it, his character or other fans i just hate wasted potential.

[catlvrmax]

LOST IN THE PADDOCK.

MV1 X FEM!READER

summary getting lost in the paddock and bumping into the current world champion was definitely not on your bingo card.

cw amara is the only oc, no use of y/n. this is my first time writing rpf since middle school, so bear with me. ALSO, this is a work of fiction: i don't know these people irl, i don't know how they act. NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER.

face claims girls on pinterest but you can obviously disregard them, and imagine whoever you want.

masterlist | taglist

—

"Ah, fuck," you mumble to yourself, panickedly walking away from the direction you came from while also looking for your best friend.

You call her name a few times in hopes of her popping her head out of the Ferrari building's corner but to no avail. The group and guides you had been with are nowhere to be found, and you have to avoid bumping into employees wearing the entire rainbow as they hurry around you.

You curse the moment you decided to enter the giveaway for those tickets. Although you weren't a Formula One fan, simply because you never fully listened to Amara's ramblings and analysis, when you stumbled across a giveaway of otherwise very expensive tickets, you didn't hesitate to enter it. Despite entering for her, you kept it a secret. The list of entries was long, and the odds were not in your favour, so you didn't want to get her hopes up. You couldn't contain the bubbling excitement when you got the e-mail verifying your win for two Paddock Club tickets for the Spanish Grand Prix.

After announcing it to your obsessed-with-cars best friend, you decided to make it a five-day trip, planning to sightsee Barcelona before the race weekend and spend a free day after it. The first day had been great, albeit tiring, but you had woken up the next day buzzing with anticipation to walk around the paddock. You were the assigned photographer, as you knew Amara would want to listen to everything the guide said. You were content with taking pictures of the place and her. 

Until now. You were definitely not happy with being the camera guy. Because of that, you'd just lost your group in the middle of God-knows-where, with no idea where the building you came from was. So immersed in your grumbling and reading the map on your phone- you collide with someone. Your phone and water bottle slip from your fingers, and the tote bag slips from your shoulder to your elbow. You hiss at the sudden weight shift.

The smell of rich cologne enters your nostrils, but you don't dare look up. Your cheeks burn. "Sorry." You bend down to grab your things.

The man seems to have the same idea, as seconds later, he's on his knees and gathering his things before you can reach them. "No, it's alright! I wasn't looking where I was going."

He extends his full hands with a smile, and you return a sheepish one before grabbing your things. You take a second to look at him. He wears a Red Bull cap and T-shirt, looking like everyone who hurriedly passed you with papers and phones in their hands. I should ask him for directions. He looks like he knows the place.

"Uh...Is there any way you saw a group of people with guides walking around here? I'm supposed to be with them, but I kinda lost them." You lift the camera, further explaining why you're separated from them.

He can't help but chuckle at your flushed cheeks. "Unfortunately, no," he pauses. "Are you here for the weekend?" You nod. "Haven't they given you a map, then? They usually do, to avoid people getting lost."

You show him your phone. Your fingers brush as he pulls it closer to look at the map. "Yeah, they have. But I can't figure it out. Kind of my first time coming to something like this."

He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to the phone. "Really?" He sounds surprised. He shouldn't.

You looked out of place compared to the rich-as-fuck members of your group. You had no idea how people dressed for these occasions. Even Amara didn't really know what to pack, so you both agreed to wear comfortable clothes. With the race being during June and in Spain, you would rather be comfortable than sweaty. The only thing tying you to the group was the Paddock Club pass you wore around your neck.

"My best friend is really into this. Loves the sport. I won us the tickets, but I'm barely grasping the basics." You laugh, and he joins. You like the way his eyes crease when he smiles wide.

"Oh, you're the ones that won the tickets! Someone told me about that, I think. Congrats!" You thank him. "How's your weekend so far?"

You shrug. "T'was really fun. Until I got lost while taking pictures of the Ferrari building." He snorts.

Leaning next to him, you try to follow his finger as he scrolls around the zoomed-in map. "You figured it out yet?" 

"I think I have, yeah." He shows you the phone. "We're here. The garages are right there. You'll be watching the race on the floor above them." You nod, slowly grasping your surroundings. Turns out it's easier to figure it out when you're not panicking and a handsome stranger is helping you. "You got it?"

You flash a bright smile. "Yeah, actually, I think I do!" You look at him. "Thank you!"

He shrugs. "No problem. I know it's easy to get lost, especially with so many people running around."

"Still. Thank you. You probably have to be somewhere, and I took up a lot of your time." You step back, turning in the direction he'd shown you.

"Don't worry about it." He fixes his hair under the cap.

"Thanks again." You wave and turn to leave.

"Hey, I forgot to ask you." You turn, confused. "What team are you supporting tomorrow?"

Oh, shit.

It's like a deer caught in headlights situation. You suddenly forget all ten names of the racing teams, desperately racking your brain for an answer. You swear you know all ten.

"Uh..." you nervously clench and unclench your water bottle. "Ferrari?" It's more of a question rather than a statement.

He laughs, and your cheeks return to their warm state. Bad answer?

"Ferrari?" He asks as if saying really? You shrug, and he huffs a laugh.

"I told you I'm not good at this!" 

You hear a shout and simultaneously turn to see a man in a Red Bull shirt beckoning him over. 

"I have to go. But you should watch out for the Red Bulls. I hear they got the better cars!" He winks and waves before walking away from you.

You roll your eyes and smile wide on your lips. Of course, he'd tell you to cheer for his team. The back of your hand touches your cheek. It's incredibly warm. You blame it on the hot weather.

—

"I'm telling you, mate! She had no idea who I was!" 

Lando rolls his eyes. "And I'm telling you there's no way. Your face is plastered everywhere."

It's Charles's turn to roll his eyes. "Or maybe she was more worried about finding a way back than asking for pictures."

"Yeah, maybe she was being polite. Didn't want to attract any attention to you." Albon adds.

Max shrugs. "I don't know."

"Was she pretty?" Oscar elbows Lando's ribs, as the latter can't contain his giggle.

Max's neck flushes. He shrugs again. "Yeah, I guess."

"Ohhhhh!" George and Lando pat him on the back teasingly, and Charles laughs at Max's expression.

Before they can tease him about this mystery girl more, a woman wearing a headset informs them they have to part ways and get ready for qualifying.

—

"And Fernando was so bloody nice, too! He was more than happy to sign the cap for you!" Amara waved her hands excitedly as she recounted everything you missed while lost.

You sat near the windows overlooking the pits, watching as the teams got their cars ready for qualifying, far away from the TVs and the crowded tables, not wanting to converse with anyone but your best friend. You chewed on your extremely expensive pasta, intently listening to her meet-up with some of the drivers. 

"I can't believe you met the only driver I know," you whined, lips pouting sadly.

"I swear I didn't realise you were gone until they stopped us to greet the drivers. I was fully into that tyre explanation the guide was giving."

"Gee, thanks." You smile, giving her the middle finger.

"Oh, you know I don't mean it like that. Without you, I wouldn't even be doing the stuff we did today." Amara pulls on your middle finger, and you both giggle.

"So, tell me what you did when you were alone," she urges, sipping her drink.

"You mean when you left me wandering like I was looking for my mother?" She gives you a pointed look. You shrug. "I stopped a Red Bull guy to give me directions. He was helpful and cute. Also took some pictures while I was making my way back here."

"Oh, was he a mechanic or what?"

"I don't know. Didn't catch his name." You smile as you recount his advice. "He told me to look out for the Red Bulls because they have fast cars."

"Well, he's not wrong."

You finish your food and drinks, chatting until qualifying is about to begin. You sit on the balcony, watching the cars drive on the track. You get settled, watching the small screen in front of you, commentary loud in the headset you wear. Qualifying goes by quickly, with Amara explaining things you don't understand and you nodding along.

It's no surprise��in Amara's words—that Max Verstappen came first in his Red Bull. He's the one dominating this season, after all. Second comes Carlos Sainz, and third place takes Lando Norris. Your best friend cheers a little more for him. You shoot her a look, and she just shrugs. "What? He's fast, and he's handsome." You laugh.

You decide to leave before others, not stick around for post-qualifying interviews. Although there's a great chance you can catch drivers, take pictures and get them to sign autographs, you're both far too exhausted to stay. There's always tomorrow, Amara says, and you agree.

You're looking through the Uber app to find a car available to take you back to your hotel when you hear Amara all but screech beside you. You look up, watching as she runs towards a wall decorated with a gigantic poster of three drivers. You recognise Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc and...Oh, shit.

"Can you take a picture here," she calls your name pleadingly.

Your eyes are wide and glued to the tall poster, even as you pull the camera up to your face. You snap a couple of pictures before Amara walks back to you. Her wide smile falters as she watches you stare at the poster intensely. You rack your brain for his name and know that you should know it. Amara has mentioned it before, but you just can't put your finger on it. He's in Red Bull, so it's either Checo Perez or—

"Is that Verstappen?" You point to him.

"Yep. Two-time world champion." Amara looks at the poster and then back at you, eyebrows furrowed. "Why are you looking at him like that?"

"He's the guy from earlier."

"What?!"

—

yourusername

liked by amaraiscool, yourmom, and 167 others.

tagged amaraiscool

yourusername chatted with a guy today, turns out he's the current world champion.

view all comments

amaraiscool i can't believe you met max verstappen

> yourusername amaraiscool i cant believe you let me get lost

amaraiscool and i can't believe you didnt recognise him.

> yourusername amaraiscool hes cuter in person, too bad you didn't get to see him :))

yourfriend1 THE DRESS IS SO CUTE, AMARA WTF DROP THE STORE!!!!!!

liked by yourusername

yourfriend2 johns freaking out rn lol

> yourusername yourfriend2 AW, i bet hes not being as dramatic as amaraiscool was when i told her :,)

> amaraiscool yourusername met THE max verstappen.

—

"You should totally text him," Amara says between bites.

She offers you a piece of chocolate, and you offer her a bewildered look. The hotel room's TV is playing a random spanish show, but with no subtitles, you can barely grasp what they're saying. Amara is scrolling on TikTok beside you.

"Text who?" You already know who.

"The two-time world champion. Duh." She rolls her eyes.

Amara hadn't stopped talking about the Max interaction since you'd pointed at his gigantic poster. The more she spoke on it, wiggling her eyebrows, the more you blushed. She had gone over a thousand scenarios, all of which you ended up hooking up with him. You had to remind her that despite his popularity, he was a stranger to you. 

"I don't have his number, 'mara. I told you he just helped me find my way."

She flicks your forehead. "That's what Insta is for!" 

"No."

"But why!?" Amara whines in your ear loudly, like a child when you take their candy away.

"It's weird! He's cute and all," you sit up, pointing your finger up," but he doesn't know my name," you put another one up, "he'll think I'm creepy," you point a third one, "and that is if he sees the requested message."

"Uh, you're ruining my scenario-building process."

"That's what Tumblr is for. Leave my quiet, boring life out of this." You dramatically sigh.

"Isn't that how all fanfiction starts? Boring and quiet life turned upside down?" Amara tilts her head.

"I don't know, 'ave never read any." You shrug, lips pursing.

She huffs a laugh, and you hold in yours. "Liar."

There's a pause. You think over Amara's suggestion. Max Verstappen is cute. And it wouldn't hurt to try and get his number. You'd never see him again after this weekend. And the worst he could say is: "Security, please get her out of here!" 

What the fuck am I thinking? He's a literal superstar. Me bumping into him was a one-time thing. 

Ah, fuck it. It's not the end of the world.

"You know what?" Amara turns to look at you. "If I get the chance tomorrow, I'll talk to him. Try and get his number."

Her eyes almost pop out of their sockets. "What?"

"I mean, I'm never seeing again? Right? It could go either way. He doesn't call for security to escort me like I'm crazy fangirl, or he does, and we pray no cameras recorded the moment."

Amara shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant, but she can barely hold her wide smile. "Sounds like a plan to me."

"Not much of a plan. I'm just indulging in your delusions."

You share a laugh before you fall back in bed beside her. You shuffle closer to your best friend's side, eager to watch the TikTok edit she is staring intensely at.

"Oh, look, it's your future boyfriend!" 

"Shut up."

previous | next

[caramelcleopatraa]

"I want to sit on your face" ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

another porn with a atom's amount of plot

word count: 1,500~

x: !this is not proofread! 😭 please disregard any mistakes <3 I came up with this idea before my current series "suit & tie", but I never got to finish it.... until now 😏 hopefully you guys enjoy this (not quick) quick thing I whipped up.

content: oral ( f receiving )

“Baby…”

“Yes?” Roman responds with curiosity in his eyes. You had been daydreaming about a specific situation. It was almost disturbing the flow of your daily life. Your husband was always up for trying new things. You've brought up ideas to him that have led to countless nights of exhilarating love making. You didn't know why you were so nervous to tell him something so simple. Perhaps it comes with your own matter of insecurities that stopped you from telling him your newly proposed idea. “Nevermind, sorry to bother you.” You turned your back to his desk to walk out of the double doors of your home office. Roman noticed your sudden change in energy and decided to chase after you. His hand gently, but firmly, latched onto your wrist and tugged you towards him. Your back hit his sturdy torso and his hands interlaced with yours. “What’s going on? Y’know you can tell me.”

“U-uhm.. Uh…” Your heart was starting to race and your breathing became heavy. You tried to walk away from him, but you must have forgotten who you married. “Nuh uh, stay right here. Tell me what’s on your mind.” 

“Aren’t you in the middle of some work?” 

“Work doesn’t matter when my wife needs me.” He tenderly kisses the side of your neck and his hands rest on your hips. A tactic he used to calm you down when you're nervous. Just as he was about to console you, you spoke up. “Can we try something tonight?” Romans eyes locked with yours and he already knew what you were insinuating. He took your hand and led you upstairs to your bedroom. All of his movements were slow, but sure and tender. All thoughts of work were left downstairs. His focus was on making sure he could make your fantasies come true tonight. He sat on your bed and held both of your hands in his. His thumbs worked over your soft skin as his chocolate eyes looked up at yours. “Alright. What fun things have you thought of to try today, princess?” 

“I don’t know how to say this so that it sounds normal.” You nervously laugh and he joins you in laughter. Still massaging your hands, he says “Well you know i'm not gonna judge you.” “Yeah, I know” You took a deep breath and gathered the courage you needed to say the next sentence that came out of your mouth. “I want to sit on your face. But I don't really know how it’s supposed to work. Like am I supposed to completely sit or ho-” Your body was suddenly caged by Roman’s arms as he pulled you on to the bed. It wasn't long until your lips connected, cutting off your nervous rambling. Your lips danced in an intimate fight for dominance against him, in which you lost. Pulling away from him, you were finally able to get a glimpse of him. His once gentle eyes were low and dark, and laced with lust. He let go of your body, allowing you to rest next to him. He scoots all the way back to the headboard and puts his head on a pillow. He motions you to come over to him and you crawl to meet him.

‘Sit.” He says. You look at him with a surprised look on your face. Again, his hands imitate a “come hither” motion. You slowly straddle his chest and move to hover above his face. His hands dig into your plush thighs as he admires your body from below.

“So umm.. Am I supposed to-”

“Sit on my face”

“Like fully sit?” The tone in your voice shifts to a more confused one.

“Yes mama”

“What if I'm too heavy and you can't breathe?”

“Mama, I wrestle grown ass men for a living. And I'll tap your thigh if I need some air.”

His lips kissed and sucked at the inside of your thighs. “Stop worrying so much. Be a good girl and let daddy eat his pussy.” Soft moans escaped your mouth while he worked his way up your thighs. His thumb creeped up to your aching clit, softly rubbing up and down while continuing to kiss and suck on your thighs. Your head tilted back as you held onto his wrists. You started to grind against his thumb, but Roman grabbed your hips and held them in place. 

“Uh-uh. On my face.” His grip loosened, but his hands landed on your thighs and pushed you down. His arms snaked around your thighs, making it impossible for you to escape if you tried. You didn’t have enough time to process what happened, but a long stripe on your cunt fogged your brain in the best possible way. Once his tongue reached your clit, he planted a tender kiss before sucking and flicking your clit with his tongue. His hands massaged your thighs while he continued to work his magic. He rotated between teasing you with long stripes up your cunt and ruthlessly abusing your clit. 

Roman’s grip on your thighs still restricted much of your movement. You tried your hardest not to grind against his tongue, but the way he was eating you up made it damn near impossible. His hair laid sprawled out on the pillow below him. His right hand let go of your thigh and quickly slapped your ass, startling you and causing you to jump. “Fuck baby,” You moaned, loving the temporary sting on your ass. After a couple more slaps to your ass, his hand returned to its original place, hugging your thigh and holding you in place. His eyes would remain on you and momentarily close while he relished the taste of your pussy, and the loud slurping sounds he was making added on to your arousal. 

You finally succumbed and softly grinded on his tongue. A salacious moan from him vibrated your clit. In return, your moans started to get louder. You tilted your head down and locked eyes with your lover beneath you. You placed your hands on his while you continued to ride his face. You could see droplets of your juices running down his face. He gives you three taps on your thigh and you immediately rise off of his face with concern. He takes a couple of deep breaths while still keeping his hands on you. “I’m so sorry, did you not want me to do that? i’m sorry i got carried away-“

You take a moment to look at Roman. His beard is littered and decorated with your juices and he keeps eye contact with your pussy the entire time he wasn’t devouring you. “Just need a couple of breaths mama. That’s all,” He says, his eyes finally meeting your beautiful ones. The collective heavy breathing occupied the silence for a couple of seconds before you felt those same hands pulling you down to his mouth. “Don’t mean i’m done. C’mere, need to eat that pussy,” He says, before you’re forced to sit on what will be your new favorite seat. Your consistent babbles and whines only made him harder, making him eat your pussy like a starved man. He loves taking care of his baby. Whether that’s pounding you into the mattress or eating you out until you drench the sheets, it was his favorite thing ever. Seeing you lose your mind because of the things he does to you makes him so ecstatic. 

“Got me addicted to this pussy.” He knew that you loved it when he talked you through it. Every chance that he got, he was gonna talk his shit, and it never failed to make you weak. “aah- oohhh shiiiit daddy you finna- ffuuck make me cum.” He moans into your pussy, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Your hips were moving nonstop and you couldn’t stop calling his name. You pried his fingers off of your thighs and intertwined his fingers with yours. His arms were still hugging your thighs in place, and yes, you had the headboard to hold if you lost balance. You wanted to hold him instead. “Ohh myy goddd, daddyy. I’m cummin,” You said, slurring your words due to your mind fogging orgasm. Your movements became uneven and Roman’s hold on your thighs tightened to keep you in place. You let out screams of bliss while Roman lapped up your release, while any remainders he missed landed in his beard. Roman’s hands roamed your lower body as low whines escaped your mouth. He pushed up your hips a little to plant loving kisses on your pussy. “How did I do?”

“Fuck, that was amazing,” You said between ragged breaths. Roman’s deep chuckle vibrated through your body, adding to the intimate atmosphere. You attempted to lay next to him but his hands dug into your skin, preventing you from moving.

“I’m still hungry mama.”

finished this while I was at work :p (so happy that I work at a family business or I would've never finished this today)

🏷️ tags :) @harmshake @jeyusos-girl @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @alyyaanna @empressdede

~ your hippie author

[ozzgin]

I can't get your yakuza headcanons out of my mind, Daitou's got me in a chokehold and I'm not complaining, like--

in regards to that doodle you made to show height difference between reader and the boys [I love your art btw (●♡∀♡)] - I can't picture myself in reader's style, I'm currently going through my goth phase in my 20s lmao; picture a big bitch with tattoos and messy hair who's listening to nothing but 2000s hits and screamo bands - so I'd like to request a headcanon of how Daitou would react to a gender-neutral reader like this :D I also like to incorporate the idea of them once being in a famous band that he's a fan of! (sorry if this seems like a lot, I have a huge imagination hehe)

but if he's more into the cute and helpless type, I'll just walk my ass out the door and yeehaw my way into another yandere's arms ✌😔

That's on me for not drawing the reader inserts as cartoonish cinder blocks :') In truth I'm a little bit embarrassed seeing how many likes that doodle has gotten, it was something I put together in a hurry and the clothing was meant to be baggy, shapeless, with not too many folds for the sake of simplicity. I myself am more of a pilgrim goth, just to emphasize the randomness of the choice.

Drawing reader inserts always leaves me a little anxious. If I use a light shade of gray, will people think I'm excluding poc? Will plus sized readers feel like they've been disregarded? What about masculine readers? As someone who's demiromantic I always struggle taking appearance or gender into consideration, because to me it has no influence whatsoever. Which is hard to express when you want to offer blank slate visuals as an extra to the story.

What I'm trying to say is that all of my characters would like you for who you are. Sure, they find your looks cute, but it's not the defining reason. Maybe you have similar traits to them, maybe you're the complete opposite and they find it intriguing. You could be a buff man and Daitou would be just as grateful to have someone who isn't afraid of him. I usually stick to a female reader for bigger stories to avoid messing it up long term, but in the grand scheme of things it makes no difference. I always imagine reader to be a shapeless blob that provides the dialogue I need for the story mood. There's no concrete preference or type for any of my OCs. I mean, ideally you'd like them back and not hang them upside down above a BBQ pit but I feel these are sensible requirements (?).

And now for the actual headcanons since my ramble is over.

First encounter is comically awkward but for reasons you’re unaware of yet. You’re obviously used to people staring at you (more so in a country like Japan), so you were expecting the curious glance every now and then. On the other hand, being under scrutiny, from a man even more unusual looking than you at that, is odd. Mildly uncomfortable. You’re shifting yourself from one leg to another, hoping to be done with the introductions soon.

On his end, Daitou is anxiously fidgeting and trying his best to focus. He’s seen this face before and he can’t shake off the familiar feeling. Where the hell…He obviously can’t downright gawk at you, and he isn’t sure how to politely formulate a question. After several sheepish peeks, it finally dawns on him: weren’t you part of that band he really likes? No, what would the chances be? Then again, how many people out there would look exactly like you? Is it rude to ask? He has no idea. He resumes his mumbled description of the apartment and hands you the papers to be signed.

Back at his place, he finally digs through his merch and sprawls out the available clues. “I didn’t know you were into this kind of music”, Kazuya comments as he looks over the man’s shoulder. He’d come over to ask about the new tenant. “I’m pretty sure it’s them.” He concludes, confidently placing his index over a CD cover. “Huh? Who? The tenant?” Kazuya holds back his chuckle. “Why would a celebrity show up for a shady apartment offer? You’re tripping, man.”

“I’m sorry, this is getting ridiculous.” You finally exclaim, annoyed by the persistent stares of the now two men facing you. You’re standing in front of the apartment building, arms crossed, huffing at the tall scarred man and his blonde friend. “No, I’m sure of it. Even the tattoo is the same.” Daitou turns to whisper to Kazuya, oblivious to your complaints. In turn, Kazuya lightly elbows him, mouthing something about being rude. “Just ask them, man.” He adds, this time louder. “Ask me what??” You groan. “W-were you…um…in this band by any chance?” Daitou manages to blurt out, searching his pocket for the CD case and ceremoniously laying it under your eyes.

Ah. It finally clicks and you exhale, relieved. You confirm their suspicions and show them some backstage photos to solidify your claim. You ask Daitou if he wants an autograph or something, then swiftly scribble your signature on a piece of paper and hand it out to him. He holds it with a wide, childish grin. “You’re a weird one, you know? You could’ve just asked. I guess I didn’t expect to find a fan in the wild, especially here.” Daitou carefully folds the souvenir, eyes lidded with nostalgia. “Oh yes, it’s great. Drowns out the screams.”

[nymph-ette111]

Hello again! Its me the one who requested the proxies with a forest ranger S/o

I sawed your post and kinda went 😮 when I found out forest rangers and fire looksouts aren’t the same thing too ngl. I originally got the idea when I watched/played ‘Fears to fathom: Ironbark lookout’. I actually looked it up and I guess the correct term would be “Park ranger” (I still don’t know bro I could be wrong) but I originally got the idea from the fears to fathom so I guess you could kinda base it off that (minus the cult) but I just thought it would be a cool idea. Like for example on the fire watch aspect, Tim is chronic Smoker and Toby is canonically a pyromaniac (idk about brain in this situation) so like Tim could be smoking or toby could be setting something on fire and you would be side eyeing tf out of them. OR, You could just be trying to peacefully sleep in your watch tower (assuming there is one) and One of them would be knocking at your damn door/window in the dead ass of the night and your just there either terrified, confused, or annoyed (its up to your interpretation).

But anyway sorry for the ramble and confusion, As always I appreciate you and hope you have a wonderful day (remember to drink water) buh/bye now <3

(♡) Authors note; in my old author's note I literally said it was inspired byironbark lookout but then I hesitated bcs I thought it wasn't what you're looking for. good thing I didn't delete the previous work :3 SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT I DIDN'T HAVE ANY MOTIVATION TO WRITE ANYTHING :(

HOODIE;

-before the relationship between you two, he knew about your job as a park ranger/ fire lookout.

-actually, he knew about everything. From the tasks you usually handle to your working schedule.

-the reason he didn't kill you off was because part of your job is keeping campers away from the unregistered camp grounds which was quite convenient on his part. (Perhaps convenient for all of them)

-that way he wouldn't risk getting caught on the way/back from a mission, even though he usually drives to his destinations with a beaten up old truck. He knows how nosey some people are and would definitely pull a curiosity move and possibly find his resort.

-but he also couldn't let you run around freely around the forest either, he just kept an eye on you for a while in case you were too close to finding out about his...'business'

-i can see him stalking you slowly seeping into his routine. could be out of curiosity or genuine interest.

-during your relationship, he'd drop by from time to time in the watch tower even though it's against the rules. He'll be careful, he says.

-he's still an asshole very much like his friends, would probably disregard his mudded hiking boots by the entrance and just throw himself on your bed. Not caring if whatever substance he was covered in (blood) stains your bedsheets or something.

-to make up for it he cooks you food with whatever ingredients you have to offer :3 I like to think he's a good cook, staying out in the forest for long periods of time gained him that skill.

-if he isn't too busy, you two would watch the scenery together :) a little nice bonding moment.

MASKY;

-sigh... This motherfucker would NOT be good company for you at all.

-you could be sleeping peacefully just to wake up and find him standing at the foot of your bed just...staring.

-he's making sure they don't get you lol

-who the fuck is "they" (...does anyone get the reference)

-steals any lighters he finds in the shack just to light up his cigarettes.

-yes, when he puts out his cigarettes he just throws them on the ground. not caring if it's against the rules to litter the forest. at this point they're all trying to get you in trouble whether it's intentionally or not.

-unlike Toby, he doesn't help around that much with your tasks.

-if you manage to convince him to bring up some firewood from the shack so you can light up the fire, just praise him. it's enough to boost his already humongous ego and he might consider helping every now and then just so you could call him your strong, manly boyfrie–

TOBY;

-This stupid fucker would send you disturbing messages on his old ass flip phone at night whenever you still have the planks up.

-some shit like 'i c yu :-)'

-... yeah he never likes typing his sentences properly because he still uses those number keyboards (I don't know what they're called)

-it gives you a heart attack everytime untill you look out the window and see that it's Toby being a weirdo again.

-like anon said, he always sets random stuff on fire which always gets him in trouble, you end up reminding him that you aren't the only fire lookout in the forest and that another worker will report it.

-he doesn't listen.

-he definitely scares off any campers in areas they aren't supposed to be. Hey, at least he isn't completely useless!

-the opposite of Brian/Hoodie, instead of cooking for you he absolutely ravishes anything you have in the fridge.

-no, he isn't sorry.

-other than the things that he does to piss you off he actually does help from time to time like helping you fill in the service reporting— using the anemometer, checking the thermometer...etc

-he thinks the devices look neat :)

[demphix]

hhi please talk about this ... you get me i think

Hi sorry this took so long I got my brain rewired and hijacked by Ceroba again. Anyways. Ralsei. That fuckin freak goat

Where do I even start? I could go the route of his design and how inconsistently he (and uniquely him as opposed to a more wide-spread lack of consistency) is portrayed both in and out of game and why I find that interesting, but I should probably do that separately.

Because I'm really here to ramble about him as a character, and what sides of him tend to be forgotten and ignored.

Most of the fandom that I've seen sorta reduces Ralsei down to what he is on the surface, a walking plushie who wants to make everyone happy, and while I understand WHY it's so common, it leaves me really unsatisfied with how he's presented in the fandom. He's more than that, he's not just the toy he tries to act as.

And I emphasize the "act as" there, because it's important to note how often he does this. He (and the game) gives you a million offers to hug him, if not that he'll talk about baking a cake for you, or you'll get to call him cute, ect.. Little acts of comfort he'll lean on a lot. On top of that, he'll always encourage you and Susie to be pacifists in Chapter 1 no matter what you do. Keep this in mind.

The next thing I wanna mention is his whole deal with "purpose." He's introduced by reading off a prophecy to you, and his whole conflict with Susie in Chapter 1 is trying to get her to be a hero with him and Kris for the sake of said prophecy. Later on he states that Darkners exist to serve Lightners and make them happy, and adds that it's supposedly the only way they can feel fulfilled. In Chapter 2, he objects to learning S-ACT and R-ACT because that's supposed to be Kris's special talent. There's probably more examples I'm blanking on at the moment, but those stick out to me the most here.

On top of all that, he really lets you walk all over him (sometimes literally). You mentioned before how he goes "If you want to hit me, that's okay, too!" and like. Yeah that's kind of the perfect summary of it he really did just Say That. What's wrong with you goatboy why are you like that???

Expanding on that more, despite encouraging pacifism he's perfectly compliant in letting you attack everyone and making him do it too; yet he still snaps (or as close as he can get to snapping right now) at Susie for doing the exact same thing. It's weird. He's fine when Kris does it, but when Susie does it's a problem? Why? He even suggests fighting as a way to get stronger in Chapter 2 (though I suppose that is at least after him being nice to King backfired on everyone).

It all fascinates me. It feels like he's trying to stick to a script while also letting you completely disregard it. He wants to be cute and lovable and wants to bring people comfort, but the only way he ever tries to comfort others is through hugs and baking or giving them a nice spot in his castle. Ironically for his thing with ACTing, he doesn't really "talk" about issues often.

Which leads me to his identity, Kris, the Player, and the way those may intersect.

Let's start off with Kris and the Player. A lot of what Ralsei gives you leeway on really feels like stuff for the player's enjoyment. He'll let you do things he doesn't want Susie to (fighting in Chapter 1, choosing who goes with who, ACTing, ect..) and use him for it when needed. He's famously VERY quick to disregard any meaning Spamton NEO's fight could have had and (again) relies on using himself as a plushie or making some cake or whatever to comfort Kris instead (which doesn't even work). I also like to note how he responds to any negative or silent choices from you in the Acid Tunnel of Love scene. He turns away from the camera (away from the player before turning opposite to Kris) in the first choice before going "ahahaha just kidding!! sarcasm!!! haaahhahahahaha!!!!, and in the second he fumbles on his words and tries to pass it off as "you-like" to be silent.

He also pans us over to Susie's POV in both chapters, and with the "So that's why..." at the end of both, it feels like he was trying to explain something to Kris during it??? Additionally: Weird Route. Do you remember the 1 in 20 chance he stares at the camera during the scene where he should be panning us over to Susie's POV? He just looks right at us. It has a unique sprite but it's disguised in name and appearance to look like an in-between frame from his dance animation at the start of Chapter 2. What the fuck does that mean. Huh. Why.

Oh also the him blushing easter-egg only happens when he and Kris's sprites overlap to a point where he'd be touching the sprite of the soul when made visible. Which sure is something I think

So like. Bro knows about us right . Am I crazy I think he knows. I feel like he's too focused on following the prophecy and being liked by us to not right?? Bro wants to play the role he was given in his script even if its uncomfortable or painful and panics when it doesn't go how it should too often right am I stupid or am I on to something please help me

Ok fuckin. Last bit. I'm gonna try to be quick I am tired.

Why He Goat

He resembles Kris's family, his name is an anagram of Asriel, you know the drill. I'm not so concerned with the "why" of that (I think he's the horned headband Kris wore as a kid, and his resemblance to the Boss Monsters is reflective of how that item represents Kris wanting to resemble their family), I wanna see how that ties into his identity. He states he doesn't know what being "ralsei-like" even means, and. Yeah that's probably adding a lot to it. It's also probably making how affectionate he tries to be very uncomfortable for Kris (almost like he's going despite that because they weren't originally who he was being this way towards Ooo Vessel Allusion Ooo).

I don't know how to wrap this up uhhh

I think Ralsei is more than the uwu babygirl fluffball this fandom makes him, he's a character with depth. He puts on a persona to be perfect for the player because that's his "purpose." It's his role in the story to teach you and do whatever you want while keeping the plot moving as it should. He cares, but he doesn't know how to comfort because he doesn't know how any of this works (like how he talks about friendship in the Acid Tunnel).

He tries to be perfect, but deep down he's still just. The lonely prince the prophecy needs.

[cityzenshark]

If S2 doesn't improve the story focus...

Decepticon fan speaking here. I love them, I want to see them getting the limelight, but Earthspark isn't their show. It's about the Terrans and their relationship with the Malto family. There are over a dozen other media where your favourite classics get their spotlight but this show might not be one of them. We have to accept that.

However, EarthSpark's big problem is its disregard of its own main characters to the point the audience care more about the side characters.

Long ramble ahead.

.

From Season 1, Earthspark has the tendency to disregard their own main characters for the sake of already existing ones. Thrash, Robby, Jawbreaker, and the parents are big victims here.

Thrash, despite being the other first Terran, gets little to no development. He only had one focus episode that shifted his positive view of Cybertronians yet it didn't affect his characteristic or the family dynamic whatsoever. He could've been involve in other episodes focusing on the triplets, specifically with Nightshade, like Twitch with Hashtag, but he doesn't. In the end, his canvas is just like his paint job -- empty white.

Robby could've get 4 episodes about him only for 3 of them to be shifted to Twitch & Wheeljack, Starscream, Mo. Never mind the Wheeljack episode and "Prime Time" but "What Dwells Within" is the worst of them all. Now it appears Season 2 is heavily focusing him after S1 dismisses him multiple times.

Starscream, I'm sorry what you've been through, but that episode should never be about you. Robby is sick, the Terrans got rocky with other due to the lost link which triggered Hashtag's trauma of getting possessed, and then they lost their LIFE SOURCE WATER. Earthspark wanted the audience to side with Starscream so bad they put him in the pity light instead of laying out hints of his past in previous episodes and allow the viewers to decide for themselves. The dude's a millennium old soldier, not another Terran.

EDIT: The same case goes for Grimlock. As bad as the dude has gone through in "Home", he's also a millennium-old soldier. He knows he's going through PTSD but Jawbreaker doesn't. JB is a newborn. Instead of celebrating JB when he finally got his alt mode, the moment made viewers hate him because it focuses on Grimlock's point of view.

[IMPORTANT NOTE FOR JB FANS: DO NOT GO TO TRANSFORMEMES SUBREDDIT!! RECENTLY, A USER THERE CAUSED TERRAN HATERS TO POP UP AND WISHING J.B TO DIE A HORRIBLE DEATH BECAUSE HE ACTED LIKE AN OVEREXCITED KID]

The parents... Oh dear their potentials are wasted soooo much. Ignoring Dot's relationship with Megs, they've become mere placements to remind the audience that Robby & Mo aren't poor orphans.

Dot being a veteran is to make her relationship with Megs sound plausible, that's all. Meanwhile Alex's profession in Cybertronian history is only relevant in the pilot episode and he only told the most basic one in lore. They never fuss about the cybersleeves, they seem available all the time but not really, they're ignorant of their children's activities, completely fine with them becoming child soldiers. Dot could've been the one to beat Mandroid to pulp in Prime Time like the Mama Bear she's described to be but no - let the nine year old beat him with alien powers. Alex could've played a bigger role for the Terrans to know about Cybertronians in general; for Nightshade especially by being the one who enables their intelligence and tinkering skills - not just leading them to finding their alt mode.

The show should've made Mo the same age as Robby. You can't ignore that they act like twins more than Twitch & Thrash despite the 5 year age gap. For a nine year old, she has high emotional intelligence yet so inconsiderate and naive at the same time in certain episodes. Pick one personality, please.

Finally, why oh why didn't they fix her face and head size? It looks a lot worse now.

TLDR; don't be surprised by the sudden change in character of the Cons. Earthspark doesn't respect their own main characters except Twitch. So let us heed Season 2 with low expectations.

[teffiyx]

let's talk about mouthwashing!

spoilers for the game. duh.

trigger warning for abuse, SA, death.

i feel like we all know how complex the story telling for the game is yet theres still people that don't seem to get it entirely. i decided to ramble about that. im sure others have done it before me but let me ramble about my hyperfixation god damn it.

this is the first out of 3 posts so strap in. the 3rd one is a LONG one. second post | third post

before i start a few disclaimers: i am rather new to mouthwashing so i do not know EVERYTHING. im just talking about my own interpretation, if there's any missing details pls inform me!

Anya is a shy and timid character!

this of course is not true but i've noticed a few people that still cling onto this interpretation of her. even though its not a vocal group that has this idea, i'd like to talk more about this.

Jimmy is an unreliable narrator, we were given that knowledge with a scene where we see multiple working cryo pods post-crash, despite us knowing there is only one functioning cryo pod.

so of course, knowing that information, most people would start to realise everything we went through as Jimmy post-crash, it was all biased, we were in the eyes of an abuser, and we trusted the words he used to describe Anya as part of her character. that's also part of the horror for this game in my opinion. the horror that i agreed the views of an abuser horrifies me.

"He - It just hurts him so much. I can't stand the noise."

"...You did make it through nursing school, right?"

"Pony Express sure does know how to cut corners, if nothing else."

-

"I was hoping you could help me with Captain-"

"Curly."

"Right, sorry ...w-with Curly's medication?"

"People have to be worth their titles."

"Don't you think, nurse Anya?"

"...Y-yeah. Forget I asked."

these two different conversations happened in the same scene at the start of the game. after going through the game we can see now how Jimmy talks to Anya is downright insulting. maybe some people have picked up on it during their first playthrough that the way he talks to her is not normal, but we didn't think much of it. but now, now things are different.

"Anya never got into medical school because she's... well, let's be real."

"And how many employment years Swansea got left in him?"

"Daisuke will be fine, mommy and daddy have him covered. So there's that at least."

"But you."

"Headed for bigger and better, right?"

this string of dialogue came 6 days before the crash, when everyone is gathered for Curly's surprise party and Curly decided to drop the news that Pony Express is letting them all go. (this dialogue will be brought up again for something else.)

he was almost insulting everyone sitting at the table, yet in this string of dialogue, he completely disregards Anya. summing his point about her as "well, let's be real.". it shows how much he views her, which was practically nothing. but first-time playing, you didn't think much of it. because he also insulted everyone else.

to summarise this whole thing, Anya as a character is not shy or timid, it is simply how Jimmy views her. but even so, we probably will never know how Anya is truly like. because even when she mentions this won't be her worst moment, she is only remembered as a poor crew member that god abused and assaulted by another member, which is, her worst moment alive.

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #29

Jumping off from my previous and pending liveblogs through The Battle of Big Wand -> but this is mostly me talking about Dale headcanons and 'fics

Partway through my next liveblog post, I started rambling about Dale and doodled a joke, and... it got really long, so now it's in its own post.

I'm sorry you have to see this, SDKFLJ...

Mildly suggestive stick figure honeymoon doodles - #ScarletPenguin

why does he still look anxious and pathetic even when he's plotting a takeover... he's the goofiest guy. I love him.

Liveblog Notes

As far as me loving characters with traumatic backstories goes, I do enjoy Peri, but he has way too many blank spots in his lore and things that are making me look at him sideways, waiting for him to say something I can work with.

I would've liked to see more of his backstory come into play... I feel like that would've been a great episode theme focused on the Peri-Dev dynamic (Them figuring each other out, uncovering bits and pieces, struggling to find areas where they relate until they do... like the clinginess or abandonment issues). Hopefully we get that in the future.

- Don't get me wrong- I'm really enjoying Peri, but from a fanfic perspective, I don't have enough breadcrumbs that don't come from the OG series I based my aged-up Poof on anyway. - That said, still love the implication that he brought Dev to his parents' house while he ate too much sugar and Jorgen almost caught him, and I'm deeply interested in his many layers of trauma. No notes.

I can make up stuff for Peri, but... I've already been making up his story beats for 8 years, so I'm personally not excited at the thought of designing a new backstory from scratch if I don't have any springboards like his friends, school life, where he's been living, or what he did while his parents were gone for 10,000 years. The OG series gave me Sammy Sweetsparkle, Goldie, and Spellementary and Steve, my beloathed. I don't have much to go off here.

We don't even know what his relationship with Irep is, like if "Best of Luck" was the first time they'd seen each other since Spellementary and/or if Irep was banned from continuing his schooling. I mean... one would have to assume Irep has his godparenting license if he's allowed to jump in on Dev, but who knows...

Me just now blinking in confusion that Da Rules allow Irep to yoink Dev as a godkid when Irep blatantly disregards all the other Rules. Cherrypicker...

And yes, I can work with it if I want to, but I already write a bunch about their dynamic, teen, and adult years in Cloudlands AU, so... I'm fine letting other people deep-dive into him; I'll probably be surface level on my end <3

So... That's all set-up for why I think Dale is my favorite in this show... He captivates me by having this clearly defined mess I can pick at. Locked up and forced to make lemonade for 7 years? wild. We know what it was like, where he was, how old he was when it started, who did it, for how long, how he escaped, what his family situation was, and we saw Doug's estate in "Engine Blocked," so we have a decent idea of where he lived and how he grew up.

We've seen a lot of clues about how his trauma lingers around him today, how he forbids his son from drinking lemonade around him, he seems to be withholding details from Dev (who has no clue who Vicky is and seemed grumpy that lemonade is presumably a trigger for his dad and thus he's not allowed to have it). We also know how his young self ended up as an adult... We know he has meltdowns when he loses money and he doesn't bat an eye about stalking or hurting children...

We've got a partner missing from his life, so he's got single dad stress in there somewhere unless the O-pairs were there from the day Dev was born... potentially divorce or widower baggage and either of those is funny... I still think Doug might be dead in New Wish and that becomes increasingly likely the more I look at my age timeline compared to how old Doug was when he struck gold, which is canon in New Wish rather than given to us by the OG...

And if he and Vicky are the same age, were they friends when his torment started? You can even mess around with vibes like "Did Dale get a fairy?" or alternatively, "Why WASN'T he miserable enough to qualify for a fairy?" because that gets really dark if you start thinking about Vicky yo-yoing his emotions to keep him on the line above misery. What was she doing to him...

Like ??? unfortunately, the most obvious thing I can think of is that Dale was so blinded by his vision of Vicky being his friend (and/or crush?? idk) that he kept forgiving her, which is... awful.

We never got a confirmed reason why Tootie didn't have a godparent despite Vicky tormenting her daily, though I always felt like age or her blabbermouth tendencies might play into it (or she clung to Timmy for stability and thus wasn't miserable enough so long as Timmy was there to "support and comfort her" (her perspective). ?? Did Fairy World think it wasn't worth the paperwork to assign someone to Dale because they assumed he'd just make a single wish to free himself and then be fine? skdljf... I just can't stop thinking about it. It's not like his father's wealth disqualified him; Remy and Dev both had godparents assigned. Idk! I think about it a lot. Fascinating.

AND you're telling me this kid grew up with the OG cast after his escape?? There's a LOT there I can play with. Did he have to go to high school with Vicky? I want to believe he was homeschooled, but we never see Doug with a partner AND Doug is a busy person running a ton of businesses. The logical assumptions here would be either "Dale went to public high school" or "Dale was shipped off to boarding school" or something like that. Each of those comes with its own implications, which excites me.

As a bonus, this guy's severe trauma is connected to lemonade?? A drink that shows up a bunch of times throughout the OG series because it's just casual and everywhere? That's so funny...

Insert joke about how it's smart to give your protags weaknesses or fears that are commonplace so they'll run into them in a casual adventure or everyday life

And YET... Despite everything we know about him, there's still plenty of wiggle room for me to play with. I like that.

Honestly, I love the entire Dimmadome household... Dale and Dev and the O-pairs and Peri and the weight of absence of whomever else was in Dale's life once upon a time. Dev is a cool character at all, but at the end of the day, he's a 10-year-old bratty bully who's neglected and lonely. I appreciate him dearly, but it's nothing I haven't seen before.

Dale is my favorite. His utterly bizarre backstory has captivated me. I can make him worse <3

I did have a role planned for him in my Cloudlands AU 'fics - have since 2018 - but I was gonna play him as quiet and jumpy... Curious, easily excited, but not as fingers-in-every-pie as his father. But nowhere would I have guessed 7 years of trauma. And that changes everything. I'm extremely excited to play with that.

He's been on my backburner for ages as "one of those characters I want to delve into when Timmy's older and has a reason to cross paths with him, such as in the working world as Dale becomes more involved with the Dimmadome businesses." My plan's always been to make a funny trio of Dale, Remy, and Dale's wife [my very first FOP OC, Hadley] (whom I've been slowly setting up to become Remy's close friend in the 130 Prompts series when they're kids) and they're just... laid-back rich people who hang out and go on silly rich adventures.

Here's a fun Hadley profile, finally digital since I've only drawn her in colored pencils up 'til now!

In spite of me repeatedly mentioning her in my New Wish liveblogs, words cannot express how shocked I've been to see Dale, who was a tiny mention in the OG series, come back as a critical character...

My girl's shy husband in Cloudlands AU canon, whom she was betrothed to when neither loved the other, turned out to be a horrible person in A New Wish who's 99% likely to have divorced her, and I could NOT be more ecstatic to work with that in 'fic. It's like this was set up just for me! :D

- How funny would it be if they had a Season 2 arc where Dev disappears for a while because he's staying with his mom? lol. - If Dev's mom suddenly showed up because she'd just left for an extended work trip or something, would that be silly'd up or what?

Bonus Hadley Facts!

- She's 12 & 13 around Timmy's time period and attends middle school with Remy. They went to a dance together.

- She and Timmy are briefly in middle school together. They vaguely knew each other in elementary school before either had a fairy- I like to think they had multi-grade gym classes, field day, lunch, and stuff like that and sometimes saw each other.

- Never had Crocker as a teacher, but has crossed his path at the grocery store and stuff. She skirts around him.

- Her mom is a professional painter. She also has a blood blossom garden. Leadly keeps making Hadley give them to people he's trying to sus out as witches.

- Very aware of her dad's horrible dating life. Unfortunately knows he's chasing magical creatures because he's getting desperate for "idk, something new and fun" at this point. Bribes Cupid on the regular. Unclear if Cupid is screwing her dad's life up on purpose to keep the money coming in.

- Has been to Texas a bunch of times (Pencil Nexus has a branch there - "The Boss of Me").

- She hums the Pencil Nexus theme a lot, especially if she's waiting in a line or doing chores. She's bad at sneaking around because she'll forget she shouldn't hum.

- At the time of posting this, her two speaking appearances are in the 130 Prompts "Back In Action," where she's at the Jimmy-Timmy Power Hour dance chasing squirrels, and "Trying Too Hard," where Ed Leadly brings her along when he tries shaking Gary and Betty down for the Learnatorium (again); Hadley's very embarrassed.

- Although offscreen, she was heavily mentioned in "End of the World" when Timmy led Remy to her house so she could help with the cure for Juandissimo's fairy flu. She was briefly mentioned in "Opportunity" when Leadly put the pieces together and realized his daughter has a fairy godparent.

- Her surname was dropped in "Entire World," "Solo," and "Looking Back," confirming her as on the Pixies' radar & as a member of Gary and Crocker's Fairy World invasion team.

- I designed her in December 2015! Nearly 9 years ago now :'D

So, there ya go... That's Hadley.

Basically, instead of meddling and buying buildings and stuff, my vision of the future "rich kids" generation is that they're "supposed" to be in the city like their parents raised them to be, but they blow it off to hang with friends. This whole generation is rebelling against their parents. Are they making things worse for the city? I don't know.

My rough plan was Dale and Hadley bringing their kid [His planned name was Dave] on ski trips and yacht adventures and world travels, with Remy and Juandissimo being bonus parents as the kid grows up :) Aroace Remy making peace with living mostly alone, my beloved... BFF Hadley ensuring he's not ignored when she gets a partner, my beloved... And my main idea here was "Their kid is so spoiled, but he's also getting incredible amounts of attention and love... It's the first time in AGES Dimmsdale has broken its "miserable rich kid" curse, and Remy and Juandissimo couldn't be happier. I just realized that probably doesn't make sense out of context- but yes, in Cloudlands AU, Juandissimo and Remy are still together when Remy's an adult. But it was always my "Eh, I'll think about it later" arc, and Dale a "think about him later" character. And now ?? I just want oodles of him... He's so funny. I've already got a whole sketchpage of him on my desk... I probably won't scan it because it's messy as I'm exploring him in my style, but I really like drawing his hair <3

Dale had a bad week or two with Vicky in my head, but he was gonna grow up fine and live with his friends :) Or... Hadley's friends. Unclear. This doesn't really work with the New Wish canon, but I still think it's funny. I think in some way, this still happened in my canon, but only during Dale's early adulthood. He and Hadley split, orz...

Like... I can't even be mad, because in my canon, they were arranged (upper class kids; Doug cared more than Remy's parents) and in Cloudlands AU, they're affectionate but not in love until they slowly grow on each other while raising their kid, but... GURL, you were supposed to carry this for me, SKDLFJ...

Hang on, I gotta draw exactly what I mean by "Hadley didn't ignore her BFF when she started a romantic relationship..."

Bonus context for Remy's arm for anyone curious & here's him in color

They're just so funny to me... Dale and Hadley are each other's comedic straightman somehow. My favorite thing is Remy being a good friend despite actively trying not to be.

There's a secret joke here about how Remy's dad is also aroace in Cloudlands AU, but his whole thing was being repulsed to the point that he was relieved every time his wife had affairs :'D Fortunately, Remy's glad Hadley found someone else to bother and never got him involved in that drama. Remy still doesn't know what's up with his parents' love life or lack thereof, but... he knows what he himself wants (Peace & quiet and 2 hang out with Juandissimo).

tl;dr - I like what A New Wish has done with Dale specifically. It's definitely wowed me, it's way more captivating than anything I'd loosely planned for him, and his layers of trauma, wealth, and negligence really take me back to the OG series vibes, so I like that!

I can't wait to do 'fics with this fascinating, traumatized loser... but Hadley is definitely his wife and/or ex in my works <3 b/c I set my plot up for this 6 years ago and it would make me sad to "boot" her from my Along the Cherry Lane 'fic plans lmao. I will never experience this oddly specific situation ever again; you gotta give this to me.

Also:

He done goofed...

I couldn't decide on dialogue, but I was thinking "In my defense, I never had a health class and I didn't know babies came that fast." (She was there for many hours btw).

Bonus honeymoon panel ft. (/checks notes) - mildly suggestive stick figures (again)

Other secret bonus ending: "Wait a minute, if Hadley's been to Texas a lot because of Pencil Nexus, does she ALSO have fun cosplaying in boots?"

...... :)

[whumpsoda]

Spill - Nevan & Darius

WOHEO Masterlist

I procrastinated on finishing this one for so long but I’m finally posting it :) now to work on even earlier captivity stuff

Taglist- @softvampirewhump @iys-cloud

cw: conditioned/brainwashed whumpee, gore/blood, vampire whumper

———————————————————————

Nevan gasped sharply, eyes wide and body trembling. Shards of slick, edged glass littered the previously pristine floor in a giant trickling pool of elegant wine. His throat caved in, shriveled up and dry, as his fingers twitched mercilessly. The thrall’s vision trailed over each cracking fragment, leading all the way to a pair of drenched boots in front of him. 

As his gaze ever so slightly rose, the slender body of his still master came into view. His breath hitched as he stopped at Darius’ abdomen, a wide splatter of the dark beverage already seeping into and taking hold of the fabric of his sweater.

His new sweater.

His white sweater.

The first time his master had granted him the privilege of doing such a task as pouring his master’s luxurious wine, such a simple task at that, and he’d instantly fucked it up.

Nevan’s knees buckled weakly, almost stumbling into the deadly array of razor sharp slivers. “I-!” He spat, staggering a step closer. He couldn’t see his master’s face, but the fierce grip of his fist was enough.

“I- I, I, I didn’t-!” He cried, thoughts moving so fast the pleas he so desperately needed to say were split apart like a puzzle. Nevan tripped over his heavy feet, hopelessly teetering around the shatters. Almost falling into his master, he stopped himself just before he could commit another grave mistake.

He clutched Darius’ clothing in both shaking hands, taking in the effects of his crime. Nevan frantically dove his head into the rich, impossibly expensive fabric, tongue outstretched and exposed.

Vigorously he ran the red piece of flesh over the ridges of sewed cotton, already stained a vibrant magenta. Fuzz and twine stuck to the moisture as his tongue dragged over, in a futile attempt to suck out the pigment. “‘M so- sorry-! So- so sorry!” 

Nevan released the item with a swift but firm slap to the cheek, hungrily burning his supple skin. Spit flew from his open mouth at the contact, and an already forming tear slipped out from his eye. 

“Down.” Darius commanded, voice graveled and coated in disgusted displeasure.

His body moving beyond his own accord, Nevan’s knees dropped to the wood below his master’s. With his head bowed, he silently held back a wail when numerous bits of the bottle cut through his skin, digging and burrowing their way into his flesh. 

“So- sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry! So, so, sorry!” He exclaimed, grabbing eagerly at whatever shards lay in his reach, disregarding the sting of more breaks tearing into him. Nevan searched until his hands were full, and he was howling in a mixture of horror and pain.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!” he rambled, streams of fat tears dampening his cheeks, only trailing off in panic when Darius’ hand neared his head.

Nevan shrieked as the vampire’s fingers drove into his scalp, seizing a hearty fistful of the human’s hair. Nevan’s head was aggressively wrenched back, agony pricking at each little divot in his head where the hairs sprouted. “Sorry, sorry, sorry-!” 

“Shut up.” Darius snarled, baring his teeth as he pierced into the eyes of the pleading man below him. Nevan whimpered, snot dribbling over his quivering lip as he clasped his hands together as means of begging, glass deeping their spot inside of him.

“You know, Nevan,” Darius sickly huffed a bitter laugh. He began a slow descent to a crouch, digging his face into his thrall’s. “I got you to make my life easier.” He sneered, twisting Nevan’s hair between a furious grip and yanking to elicit another yelp.

“And somehow, after all the effort I’ve put in to getting you to so much as call me Master, you can’t manage a task as easy as pouring me a drink?” 

Nevan wanted to scream, to beg, to plead until his voice ran raw. How could he be so stupid all the time? He was just a brainless, good for nothing dog like his master told him. 

Darius released his rigid hold on the bundle of strained hair, swiftly gripping his thrall’s face between his fingers before Nevan could catch a second to recover. With his free hand he clutched the man’s wrist, squeezing it tightly with all of his amplified vampiric strength and tearing it from Nevan’s clasp.

Nevan watched in unwavering focus as his master lifted his tattered hand to his widening mouth, dragging his clammy red tongue over each ragged cut, scratching himself in the process. 

Nevan’s hand jerked with each tickled sensation, shivers of pleasure and fear running all the way to his spine. Darius’ grip was still hard, holding the direct intent to hurt, but with each tender lick his eyelashes fluttered against his will. 

Smears of lavish gore muddled the vampire’s tongue and lips, and Nevan was yanked back into lucidity as Darius extended his mouth, giving the other man a full display of his bared fangs. 

Nevan’s heart plunged to his tensing stomach as the realization of his master’s moves captured him, attempting a single muffled shout.

Thin bones popped and cracked as Darius’ teeth and fangs brutally sunk into his thrall’s palm with the force of a feral animal, grinding the rows and sticking them deeper. 

Nevan thrashed and wriggled to his best ability, shrill screams of terror and torture swaddled by the purse of his lips. His master’s overwhelming strength was far too great, holding Nevan in place with violent intent. 

Hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt-

Darius’ sets of razor like fangs were nearly touching, ripping gaping holes in a mess of violence of which Nevan couldn’t stomach. His head spun with sickness, mind overwhelmed with the sight of sickening red, the threat of retching inching closer to reality.

At the last possible moment, seconds before tearing completely through the twitching meat, Darius relaxed his jaw. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Nevan convulsed in anguish, thick and rich bite marks protruding into his ripped and bloodied skin.

Licking his meal stained lips, Darius pecked the tip of his finger, leaving a stain of jarring red with a grin. “Look at me.” He quietly sung, his honeydew voice pulling Nevan from debilitating shock. “Focus on master. You can at least do that for me, can’t you?” He softly requested, as if he didn’t almost mangle his thrall seconds before. 

Each of Nevan’s breaths were shaky and panicked, his slender chest heaving and his throat wheezing. Darius let go of his cheeks, instead slipping his hand to gently cradle his thrall’s lolling head. 

“Fuh, f- focus, focus, master-” Even melting into a sweaty mess of aching misery, Nevan wanted nothing more than to please his beloved master.

“Hush, listen.” The vampire shushed, pressing a thumb to Nevan’s lips. “Let Master fill your empty little head with my voice.” Darius lifted a finger, leaving a smear of the thrall’s own insides as he placed a stray piece of his thrall’s hair back in its rightful place.

“You want to be good, right?” He questioned, allowing Nevan the slightest bit of movement to eagerly nod. “You want to be better.” He stated, easing his grip on the man’s mouth.

“You’ll surely have to be if I ever want to socialize again. I’ll look like an idiot if I try showing off a faulty thrall.”

Nevan nodded again, slower this time, still desperate to agree. “Yes, better… good…” His voice fuzzed as he spoke, eyes unfocusing. The heavenly agreement almost distracted him from the aching throb of his hand.

“You will be better. Remember what I told you?” Darius asked, studying his thrall with hungry eyes.

“Ye- yes… sir.”

“Then say it.”

Nevan swallowed back a whimper as he began reciting what the vampire had painted into him. “Oh- obedient…mmm… quiet… sss… still… do… docillle…” Each word more slurred than the last, his brain was melting under the weight of the blissful expectations his master had stained upon him. “Betterrr…”

Darius laughed a breathy, charming chuckle, amused by his thrall’s unwavering submission, and Nevan simply supplied a hazy smile. The vampire wiped a bead of salty sweat from his servants moist upper lip.

“Now,” Nevan gave the slightest bit more awareness, eager to follow along. “You, my pet, are going to go take good care of your hand, and I’m going to change.” Darius instructed, forcing Nevan to focus his cotton candy filled mind on only his words.

“You will take my dirtied items and throw them in the laundry, and come back to clean up this mess.” The human nodded along drowsily. “Then, and only then, will I consider calling a doctor for your injury.”

“Yes… sir.”

“Good boy.” Darius praised with a bitter and smug grin, showing off his pink coated mouth as a pool of pleasure swished inside Nevan’s chest.

His master was so kind, helping him better himself. Nevan simply couldn’t let him down, could he?

[randomlywanderingmoth]

FANSERVANT: Caster of Blessings

(picture created in picrew)

SERVANT CLASS: "Are- are you seriously asking that? Go back up the header and read that again." ALTERNATIVE NAMES: Kat. "Kat for the English speakers. Phonetically sounds like Cat. Yes I'm human, these are just a funny blessing." Neko-chan. "Neko-chan for the Japanese speakers, cuz Neko means Cat, heheh." Emma. "Wait, how the heck do you know that? I mean- it IS my name, and I don't mind you using it, but… that's the name of my Pseudo half… I mean, I guess if you're referring to the very normal human me, then that's fine I guess?"

TRUE NAME: "- woah woah woah hold on a hot minute here, I was gonna do a whole song and dance! Lemme have this!" True Name information presently sealed. "Thank you, dossier."

===

"Anyway, let's rip the band-aid off now, I'm a Pseudo-Servant. To make an extraordinarily long story short, I was a Master in a Grail War, and Caster was my Servant. A whole buncha buncha stuff happened, and I ended up inheriting her Saint Graph. Obviously, I didn't have the cat-ears or cat-tail prior to inheriting my Saint Graph. Don't worry about them too much."

"Oh- oh right, I should give a long-form description of what my deal is. Anyway, I'm the Caster of Blessings. I was gonna be cagey and tell you to call me Kat, but since the dossier blew my cover yeah you can call me Emma. I'm a hedge mage- was a hedge mage- that got tangled up in a Grail War. I ended up summoning the original Caster of Blessings, the one that wouldn't have been a Pseudo-Servant. We bonded, as people do, and I learned that she… didn't exactly like being the Caster of Blessings. It almost didn't matter, except that it turned out I was also compatible to hold that Saint Graph."

"Anyway, at one point… well, my memories are a jumble. I blame either the Throne or the Kaleidoscope, maybe both, but either she gave it to me after taking a fatal wound to let me keep being in the Grail War because she found my wish beautiful, or I took a fatal wound and she sacrificed her life to infuse me with her Saint Graph so I could survive, or I ended up waking up to my own potential as a Mage and we won the Grail and her half of the wishes on the Grail was to let go of her Saint Graph and it peeled off her and stuck to me… I'm rambling, sorry. Presumably, every path in the Kaleidoscope that lead to me becoming the Pseudo-Servant holding her Saint Graph merged, hence my jumbled memories. Presumably there's also memories in there of me being the Caster of Blessings that I summoned, but I'm thankful to be deprived of those memories in this summoning- I don't need that existential recursive headache, please and thanks."

"As the bearer of her Saint Graph, I incidentally also inherited her memories. And, lemme tell ya, I get why she wanted to leave. How many years, decades, centuries, millennia, do you think you could spend, trying to help people? How long can you work, in- I was gonna say in a Sisyphean effort, but even Sisyphus would object to this. I remembered all of it. All the effort, to try to help Humanity. To fix the mess I made- er, she made. Erm- disregard that."

"Anyway, as the Caster of Blessings, her job was as the name implies. To travel the world, to impart blessings unto humanity. To help fix the problems of the people, then to flee when they learned those problems were, on some level, her fault in the first place. Before you ask, no, her legend will never make mention of any of this, I wouldn't be saying it all if I thought it would."

"Anyway, she traveled, as you do, blessed people, as she could, and learned that… well, it's remarkably difficult to permanently quash the darker natures of humanity. She would say impossible, but I've a pedantic mindset to say it technically isn't impossible. But anyway. To give humans wealth is to invite greed, to give them talent is to rouse envy. Attempting to reconcile conflict only planted grudges to incite further outrage. Perhaps none of those in the moment, but given time, good things seem reluctant to ever last. The apple will always find its way to rot in the end."

"Eventually, she gave up. Because of course she did. Because you can say that, after seeing every attempt to help people crumble and fail, you would still keep trying, but immortality does not typically include immortal determination and willpower. Those are still very mortal, and, trust me, after thousands of years your resolve would also falter."

"One day, though, she met someone. Or, someone met her… the memories are difficult here. That someone didn't want to be remembered, if I had to guess- but anyway. They suggested a simple idea to her. The living person can retire, and her ever unending self-appointed task can be left to her memories. Engrave her existence on the Throne of Heroes."

"… she had the tiniest sliver of resolve left, and it was enough to do this final deed. To leave her task to a Saint Graph. But the Ghost Liner who held that Saint Graph, for a time, was her. Her memories, given form. Still uncontent. Still left to meekly tend the ever-turning nature of humanity."

"And then she was summoned to a silly Grail War by a silly girl with silly aspirations that were barely alive. And that silly girl wanted… so many things. And the Caster of Blessings had one more blessing that she hadn't ever given before, not in this way."

"And so, the original Caster of Blessings took her final retirement, and her erstwhile Master was stepped up to the line. The Pseudo-Servant, Caster of Blessings. That's me."

PARAMETERS:

Strength: E+ "… what's with that look? I'm a Caster. Base STR is what you get." Endurance: D+ "Wow, even as a Caster I have better than base Endurance. Neat." Agility: C+ "I know I have cat motifs going on but I am also a Caster. Be glad you got this." Mana: A+ "Don't be fooled, I can actually blow through my mana supply in a real hurry if I mismanage it." Luck: B- "My luck is actually pretty okay. That malus? I have a faint-but-constant urge to Test My Luck, and you don't need a bad luck streak to get screwed over, you just need one really bad hit." Noble Phantasm: EX "Okay so we can get back to this if I ever I pull out my True Name but even without it, the Noble Phantasm that I DO make regular use of is also still EX rank. It's pretty buckwild."

SKILLS:

"Now, disclaimer, I'm not giving you the proper names of my Skills. Those are sealed up along with my True Name. Don't worry, you'll still get an idea of my deal from the listed."

Item Construction (B+ Rank): "My primary Magecraft allows me to command, manipulate, and reinforce thread and fabric essentially at will. You'd be surprised how strong and durable cotton yarn is when reinforced by such high level Magecraft. It's a point of note, I can't just use straight fabric like shirts or jackets, but if I can unravel the yarn from like a scarf, I always have a weapon. And yes, the stuff I make is quantifiably powerful. Cool magic swords and axes, suits of armor? As long as I have enough thread, sure. The original Caster of Blessings was a lot more deft with this, but I'm capable enough in my own right."

Territory Creation (A- Rank): "I'm also able to delineate and define a 'home' territory, making it my Workshop- and it's a pretty ridiculously powerful Workshop at that, Temple-grade. The only issue, aside from the ritual to delineate that Temple, is that I can only denote one 'home' at a time. Make a new one? Old one stops being a Temple. Pretty sure there's some mythology somewhere about cats being protectors of homes. That's my excuse for now, anyway."

Presence Concealment (B+ Rank): "Ever seen a cat get sneaky? Yeah, I can do that pretty good. What's funny is, even if I get into a fight, if I just put a bit of mana into maintaining my concealment, I don't lose ranks after entering combat like standard Presence Concealment! Ever tried fighting someone your mind refuses to stick to? It's buckwild."

Golden Rule (C Rank): "Ah, erm… quick come up with something- right, y'know those Japanese lucky cats? Maneki-Neko? Sure, this is totally based on that. Anyway, it's not that I have cash, it's that I have, let's say, a remarkable talent for falling into wealth as needed."

Natural Body (A Rank): "Neat, huh? I get pluses to my STR, END, and AGI stats cuz of this, and my body is way more fit than it was when I was alive! Bonus, hostile effects that would negatively impact those stats don't work unless they can bypass this skill! No half measures were taken in the creation of the Caster of Blessings, and that sure as heck is reflected in this skill!"

Clairvoyance (A- Rank): "A byproduct of my Noble Phantasm, my eyes can even theoretically perceive the future if I try! The, uh, the minus is because… I'll take the blame on this, pretty sure original Caster never had this problem, but I'm not as good at controlling it. I can restrain it, and I can use Mystic Eye Killers on it to basically turn it off so it isn't quite so distracting, but… I'll be honest, I give full props to all the Servants who can use a skill like this on the fly, no problem. Clairvoyance is not nearly the free win that I used to think it was."

Divinity (B Rank): "Oh if I didn't have this it'd be real freakin' funny when I started passing around blessings like candy. The only reason I'm not A Rank is because my Saint Graph doesn't make it to god level, and both the original and I take serious umbrage with that. I mean, after everything she's done, hasn't she earned the right to return to- ah, sorry, nearly spilled the beans there, eheheh."

NOBLE PHANTASM:

Fatal Curiosity: Mystic Eyes of Observation

"Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. That's the whole phrase, by the way. Bet you've only heard the first half, heheh."

"Anyway, my eyes are capable of completely deconstructing the information presented to it in nearly any situation. A single glance and I can fully discern anything about anyone. Presence Concealment, True Name Concealment, Illusions, and similar effects basically mean nothing to me. I can read off nearly everything about any Servant or similar hostile in a matter of seconds. True Name, Parameters, Favorite Ice Cream Flavor, Skills, Fears and Weaknesses, Noble Phantasms, so on and so forth. It's a matter of seconds and not instantly because I need a bit to process and filter out the junk data from the tasty stuff, but the more mana I pump into it the faster the processing goes. At full power, yeah, it's basically instant."

"Speaking of stuff I can process instantly, the moment I see any sort of hostile action- an attack, a directed curse, a trap, or so on, my Mystic Eyes will instantly process and provide autonomous countermeasures. Oh, and bonus? If it's Magecraft, my Eyes will reverse-engineer it basically automatically. As in, if I see Magecraft used, I can use it too. Sadly, I can't take the information from previous summonings, and it's only the information of my Pseudo-Servant self, so I don't have all of humanity's Magecraft at my fingertips, but it's still a whole lotta lot to work with."

"Oh- that all does take a bit of a toll on mana, but even at rest my Eyes are constantly processing information- just at a slower rate than near-instant. At rest I could tell you the weak spots in the local construction or geography, I could autonomously counter minor Magecraft, I can even read minds. Or- rather, I have to. The Eyes never fully power down. It's… rather distracting at times, so I wear the glasses to turn it off when it's not needed."

"No secrets, no deceptions, nothing may be hidden from my eyes. Let us bear witness, together, to what happens next- FATAL CURIOSITY."

[afreakingdork]

Happy New Year dork!!

Just want to say that your work has inspired me to write my own works!

This year has been tough for me, I’m a senior in college and I’m not to sure what I want to do with my degree, I felt like I had no purposeful hobbies or interests. So when I stumbled upon Weak Spot I was enamored!! I could not put it down!! And with Soft Spot it gave me a better reason than the weekend to get through the week! It gave me all the inspiration to start working on my hobbies again! So thank you Dork <3

You are just an amazing inspiration! Thank you so much for your hard work!!

XOXO

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

WAH!! I'M SO HONORED TO HAVE INSPIRED YOU!!

I'm sorry to hear times are tough though. I understand that liminal space of transition well. I had to put off my own graduation two semesters. One for a death in the family and having to head home to deal with it and the other because I couldn't secure a job to qualify for my internship to get my diploma. I applied for to 215 jobs before I got one (I'm haunted by the spreadsheet and the number). The one I ended up getting wasn't even in my field of study and my employer ended up lying for me because they needed a file clerk so bad. I did end up getting promoted through the ranks, but I'm rambling here. What I really want to say is:

In this day and age, it unfortunately doesn't matter.

Amongst me and my friends, only one of us is actually working in the field we got degrees in or studied for. The way the world is, getting a secure job that mostly doesn't screw you over is the top priority. After that is if you can stomach what you do. It doesn't have to necessarily be your life goal as long as it sustains your life.

I know that might sound bleak, but I think there's a beauty to that. It's part of the reason why one of the facets of Weak Spot is that villainy is treated as an occupation instead of a moral conundrum. I played with the greys of morality, for sure, but what Donnie had done didn't necessarily make him a bad person. Same with Hypno or even the heroes. You see the other turtles as bad guys even though they are patently the heroes in their stories. It's all about perspective.

My personal thoughts on work:

As for hobbies, don't let the machinations of capitalism get to you!

Hobbies

Interests

THEY ARE MEANT TO HAVE NO PURPOSE!

They are not side gigs or things that need to be monetized.

They are creative and emotional outlets!

Maybe you feel bad watching trash TV in your off time.

WHY!?

If you enjoy it, why should you beat yourself up about it?!

If it's the best way to clear your head, how can that be a bad thing!?

I'm sorry, I bet you didn't sign up for a sermon, so please disregard advice you weren't looking for, but I felt like I had to say something. We only get one go around this big blue orb and I surely think it's better to enjoy it then worry about perfecting some societal norms oppressed upon us!

ANYWAY

Tldr; THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SHARING! I'M FLOOR TO HAVE INSPIRED YOU!!! YOU KEEP CREATING TO YOUR HEARTS CONTENT!! THAT HAS WORTH!! ANYTHING YOU DO IS IMPORTANT! I'M PROUD OF YOU!!!!

[athenodora-sulpicia-writer]

Is p2 of "Forbidden love" out or are you still working on it?

Love your stuff btw 🧡

Forbidden Love- Part 2- Vanessa Ives

A/N: Hi everyone, I am so sorry for such a long wait, I know my inbox has been flooded with requests to update this, sadly a lot of these requests were anonymous, so if you did send a request/demand for me to update this story please let me know in the comments and please let me know what you think. Hopefully it won't be as long a wait for Part 3.

Warning(s): None

A week had passed since the party at Mr. Grey’s establishment and the dramatics that ensued that night, to be quite frank I’d quickly recovered from the event and didn’t give much thought to it again. Mother was still none the wiser as to what actually happened, which meant that the last few days had been rather peaceful, or as peaceful as can be for a Nightwalker, and the weather had been particularly pleasant. 

It was currently the morning hours of Sunday and as most of London were at church, so I was able to have a relaxing cup of tea at a Cafe I had found whilst walking around that morning. I sat back in my chair out the front of the tea house, wearing a pleasant enough dress of navy blue and my hair pinned up into place something I often enjoyed doing. Then the wind began to change, and I knew who it was before they even sat down, it didn’t matter that my eyes were closed in relaxation II had sixth sense for people’s presence. 

“Taking yourself for a walk Mr. Chandler?” I asked lazily, acting as if his sudden presence was of no concern to me. Quite frankly I'd had too nice of a morning, of a week actually, and I was going to let some mut ruin it by interrupting my cup of tea and sunlight. 

“You’re playing quite the risk, being sat out in the open like this Miss,” His voice held a level of blatant sarcasm that I didn’t appreciate in the slightest, the rolling of my eyes as I sat forward showed as much, why can’t a Nightwalker just enjoy a cup of tea out on the streets without being rudely interrupted. 

“I do as I wish Mr. Chandler,” I spoke with a flick of my wrist sending a light gush of wind in the dog’s direction. “Now why is a dog sitting across from me at my table?” I asked him with little disdain lacing my words as I picked up my cup of tea and took a sip, truly I should probably have been on more alert than I actually am but what was life without a little carefree spirit every once in a while, that was all part of the fun after all and if it meant I got to keep dishing out dog jokes then I might actually not complain too much about this unexpected encounter. 

“Well, it certainly isn’t for the unpleasant commentary,” Surprisingly enough the American’s words didn’t match his tone, as he spoke to me with a pleasantry that I wouldn’t have expected from him. Mr. Chandler then sat closer in his chair as if what he was about to say couldn’t be heard be outside ears, “Your encounter with our Miss Ives last week has left us all,” A pause “Apprehensive, shall we say, we have questions and you’re going to answer them.” He spoke more in a whisper but there was an edge of commander in his words, and I couldn’t hold back the laugh that I let out, this was simply laughable. 

“You must be joking” My laugh soon died down and my expression became more serious, “Why on earth would I go with you to answer questions?” There was exasperation in my voice, they were all simply out of their minds if they thought I would completely disregard my orders and disobey my mother’s orders to simply go to their abode and answer questions, what did they take me for? An invalid or something like that? Surely not, perhaps I need to be more unpleasant to get the message across. 

However, before I could say anything Mr. Chandler then spoke up, interrupting my ramblings of disgust at this proposal. “Because you want to,” He spoke simply and so assured of the words he was speaking, resting back in the chair as if he were already certain that I would be coming with him. “You made a choice that night, it would’ve been easier to have handed Vanessa over to the company you keep but you didn’t, instead you chose to hide her. Now why is that?”  

Mr. Chandler’s question caught me off guard, I hadn’t thought much on why I had done what I did, at the time it seemed like a reflex, it’s not like it could’ve been anything more, so what on earth was he trying to allude to. “I’m not entirely certain of what assumption it is you have made up in your mind Mr. Chandler but what I did that night was nothing more than a foolish error in judgement.” I paused a moment, collecting my purse from the tea house table and stood abruptly, “I’ll be sure to not make the same mistake again,”  

I pause a moment, “Good day Mr. Chandler.” I said with what was meant to be finality as I turned away and began to walk back onto the empty London streets from the tea house. 

“Wait,” Mr. Chandler’s voice gave me pause, I don’t know why my body had stopped because my mind certainly wasn’t telling it to. “All we ask is an hour of your time and to answer some questions. We mean no harm or threat towards you.” Mr. Chandler was clearing getting desperate, I could hear it in his voice that it had suddenly lost its usual charm, were they all really that desperate? 

Against my better judgement and my mother’s voice in my head telling me that I would be punished for doing something such as this, I turned back around and looked Mr. Chandler dead in the eyes. “Alright, I’ll come and answer your questions, I suppose I wouldn’t mind some entertainment to accompany my Sunday morning.” 

“Right this way then Miss.” Mr. Chandler spoke, the charm returning to his voice as he leant forward in a mock bow and gestured his arms towards the direction that we’d be walking. 

It seemed it was time to walk into the vipers den and see if they would bite for the answers they would receive from me. ____________________ Hey everyone, I hope you all enjoyed this second part, once again I'm sorry for such a long wait, i haven't written in such a long time that I've been struggling to get back into it.

[misc-obeyme]

just a thought, but have you ever considered solomon and mc ACTUALLY getting married, or maybe getting engaged if we were to soften the blow a bit for the rest of the crew??? bc w everything going on in nightbringer, solomon and mc getting closer, “””jokes””” about them being a married couple, and solomon deadass admitting he prefers to keep things as it is now without the brothers getting in his way😭😭😭i wouldn’t be surprised if solomon actually got on his knee and popped a ring, he gotta keep his pookie close🤞

now if solomon and mc were to ever become actually exclusive (instead of an openness within their relationship, unlike how mc has practically kissed each and every brother without making any statement about being official) how do you think that would that go over with the past versions of the cast? heck, to bring up the severity of this, what if solomon and mc finally getting thrown back into the present/future and that’s when everyone finds out about the engagement??

id like to think, depending on which timeline we’re going with, there’d be varied reactions but somewhat the same. i think past versions of the brothers would react….severely, especially when only they’re getting accustomed to being a demon. i mean, in the recent chap 22 (spoilers) mammon is slowly but surely growing into being the avatar of greed that he reacted very harshly when levi saved mc from falling. that alone, triggered mammon to turn into his demon form and threatened to fight everyone who laid a hand on mc💀the brothers couldn’t even handle him at the time. now, i’m a firm believer that a sensitive time such as that would only ensue in some crazy drama😭 it could only culminate in chaos. maybe who knows, the solomon hate train would start a millenial earlier.

but if we were to go with future/present brothers, it wouldn’t be anything drastic, physically at least. bc at least the brothers have fully grown into being demons and can control themselves. but that wouldn’t stop the pettiness that would transpire. they still care about mc, and to see mc obviously care and have this fondness over solomon that they all crave for, they wouldn’t lay a hand on him for mc’s sake. at least you can sleep well with that thought❤️ still, the hate for solomon would skyrocket to the heavens. they go from being distrustful and wary of solomon’s intentions to actually straight up being solomon’s main haters.

hmm hmm…i dunno. this could result in many varying scenarios. and at a time where mc goes missing from the present timeline and the brothers are most likely losing their minds without mc, only for them to come back and deliver the worst news……….low blow, really. but yk what would be the lowest blow? if mc was the one who proposed to solomon instead. anyways, not to sidetrack, but i like to think present lucifer would be in heavy denial for some time LMFAO the first time he’d hear about mc and solomon, luci is probably the type to just completely disregard it and—not act—truly believe that it’s not real, which this perception borders irrationally. with levi and especially mammon, they’re practically two beat up puppies. while levi would sulk and let his misery fester in the close quarters of his room, mammon would not hesitate to make his feelings of betrayal known out loud. the rest of the brothers would act on the same spectrum, utter heartbreak. even beel would sit mc down at times and have long conversations with them about their decision to be seriously romantically involved with a man like solomon.

i think it’d be devastating. they should be happy, but dont forget that they’re the avatars of the seven original sins.

ps: sorry for the long ramble😭 i’ve been thinking about this since replaying some of the chapters of nightbringer…so my characterization of the brothers might be off. and idk much about the side characters. i just don’t want to think about what barbatos would do.

You're good, anon! I will always encourage rambling in my ask box! I love hearing all your thoughts!

So okay, I've thought about marriage with all the characters a little bit, but I don't think I've actually seriously considered what everybody's reactions would be!

I do think Solomon has gotten more possessive and jealous in Nightbringer, but I also think this could be because he's expressing himself a little more freely than he did before. In the OG, I always felt like he was holding himself back because he genuinely believed that MC would never choose him. In Nightbringer, though, I think he's either finding it harder to do that because he lives with them now or he just doesn't want to keep backing off when he clearly loves MC so much. I could definitely see him asking MC to marry him if he thought it was a good time.

I also think the reactions would vary depending on timeline, as you said. And I fully agree with you - if it happened while they were in the past, as things are right now, it'd be absolute chaos. I don't think Solomon is dumb enough to do something like that. He seems pretty determined to get himself and MC back to their own time. And even if he really wants to marry MC, I think he wouldn't propose while they were in the past for the very reasons you list. The demons are not stable and it just isn't worth the risk.

Now, in the present/future timeline, I think things would be far safer for him to actually propose. The demons are more stable, MC isn't really dealing with anything that could change the course of their lives, all that stuff.

If we consider how it would go before MC was unceremoniously chucked into the past, I think that would be the most stable and least dangerous scenario. MC has been living with the brothers for a while, they haven't been exclusive with anyone, and they haven't made any promises to anyone about being exclusive. It's a little weird if we think of it in terms of the generic OM MC because that MC has definitely been involved with everybody at some point. But this would differ depending on different people's versions of MC. But going with the general MC, yeah, I think most of the brothers would be upset about it.

Like if MC is gonna marry someone, it should at least be one of their brothers, right?! I think all the brothers would be okay with it if MC married Lucifer, for instance. They'd be like annoyed it wasn't them, but also just... they get it, you know?

But Solomon? No way. Lucifer himself would lose his mind. Luci's dislike of Solomon might make him try to talk MC out of it. If Solomon asked for Luci's permission, he'd only make it worse. 'Cause Lucifer'd be like no, get out. And I agree, I think he'd be in denial about MC wanting to marry Solomon. I agree with your assessment of Levi and Mammon's reactions, too.

I think they'd all take it pretty hard, but in the end, I also think they'd come around to MC's decision.

Now if MC came back from the past and was all oh yeah I'm engaged to Solomon? Yeah, no that reaction would be INTENSE. I think MC should probably wait a while before telling them that. Let them get over the fact that MC just disappeared on them first.

And honestly, I think if MC proposed to Solomon instead, everything might go a little bit better. Because if Solomon is the one proposing, the brothers will see that as this shady sorcerer stole away our human and that's unacceptable. We can maybe talk MC out of this! We can maybe influence this choice if we complain enough!

But if MC is the one proposing, then they know that it was always MC's choice. They would see it less as Solomon influencing MC and more like MC came to the decision on their own. Just because they love Solomon. And while I think that would be more devastating for them and likely result in a lot of heartbreak, I think they'd be less likely to fight MC on it. Because in the end, they do want MC to be happy.

OH MAN I think past!Barbatos would not be pleased about such an arrangement! He hates Sol's guts right now, so I can't imagine that going well. Future/present Barbatos on the other hand... I think we'd be dealing with another heartbreak situation. He was just beginning to develop feelings for MC. So I think he would be sad, but also happy for them. Because that version of Barbatos loves MC and he cares about Solomon, too. And I think he'd want them to be happy. And I kinda think that's how it would go for the rest of the side characters, too. Diavolo and Simeon both don't strike me as the types that would like try to talk them out of it or cause any anguish for them over it. I think they'd be sad to lose MC, but happy that their friends are in love, you know?

The brothers are just too attached to MC to really go that route without trying to talk them out of it. And also we know they really don't trust Solomon. Present/future Asmo might be the only one who sides with MC, though probably pretty reluctantly and that only because he actually likes Solomon in a way none of the other brothers do.

Wow I feel like there is just so much angst potential with this scenario! But I love the idea of MC marrying Solomon, even it makes things difficult for the brothers lol.

[kostevysen]

Okay so, this is going to be one of my longer, more detailed posts. No, I don’t have anything personal against the previous anon (from this post), this is just me, and myself inside my head after thinking about it for a little bit. No, I’m not angry or upset that someone called me out for not giving the right/correct credits to my banner, honestly, I must applaud anon, who knows how many more weeks it would have taken me to notice?

TLDR: Kost goes on a long ramble about Traditional and Digital Art Theft.

(Though I would be very thankful if you’ll read through everything that I have to say.)

Anyway, let’s start.

To begin, let’s talk about Traditional Art Theft. And before anyone tries to get clever—no, it’s not like taking a pencil from a classroom or borrowing a book for a little too long. Traditional Art theft is on another level entirely. We’re talking about stealing someone’s time, effort, and, really, a piece of their soul. Dramatic? Maybe. True? Absolutely.

So, what’s the big deal? And I know I will repeat myself several times in this post. Why should anyone care if some rich person’s fancy painting gets nicked out of a gallery? It’s not like they’ll go hungry, right? Well, here’s the thing—art isn’t just for the rich, and it’s not just some “thing” on a wall. Art is personal. It’s an expression, a story, and sometimes even a protest. When someone spends weeks, months, or even years on a piece, pouring in every ounce of their energy, only to have it stolen—well, that’s not just robbery; it’s a complete disregard for the artist’s voice. That’s why I don’t support it. Not now, not ever. Even if I had accidentally committed such a deed, it is my duty to spread awareness, both for my misdeeds and to support artists of all kinds.

You see, when people steal art, they aren’t just taking a painting or a sculpture. They’re snatching away the artist’s ability to control their work’s legacy. And yeah, maybe the artist already got paid, but think about it: art doesn’t really belong to one person after it’s made, right? It’s shared, experienced, meant to inspire or provoke. Theft takes that away. The whole point of art is to be seen as it was meant to be seen—where the artist intended it, in the space they designed it for, under their terms. And if you can’t respect that, do you even get what art is?

Now, some people might say, “But isn’t art theft kind of romantic?” You know, the old heist movie trope, with the stealth and the tech and the thrill. No, it’s not romantic. It’s selfish. Every time a piece goes missing, the public loses access to it. Think of the paintings that sit in private collections, locked away from everyone. Those works were meant to be seen, discussed, maybe even argued over. Art can spark revolutions or quiet someone’s soul, but only if it’s out there. Keeping it hidden because you felt like taking it? That’s downright petty.

Onto what you’ve been waiting for, Digital Art Theft. Something I’ve accidentally done somewhat, and I’m not afraid of saying I am sorry for it.

Digital art is something that people seem to think they can just click, save, and claim as their own. Like it’s a recipe they found online or a song lyric they can throw into a caption. Spoiler alert: it’s not. Digital art theft is real, just like traditional art theft, it’s damaging, and I don’t support it either—not even a little.

People might think, “It’s just pixels, right?” Wrong. Digital art may not be a canvas you can touch, but that doesn’t make it any less valuable. Artists spend hours crafting these pieces. Just like traditional artists, they’re putting their skills, creativity, and vision into something that ends up on a screen. It’s not just a picture—it’s their work. And when someone comes along, screenshots it, reposts it, or even slaps it on merch without permission, it’s like slapping the artist in the face.

What’s worse is that digital art is especially vulnerable. Unlike a physical painting, which takes a lot of effort to steal, digital art can be copied with two clicks. That ease makes people forget (or ignore) that this is someone’s livelihood. And similarly to Traditional artists, digital artists often rely on commissions, views, and likes – metrics that help them get noticed, get work, and grow their audience. Stealing their art isn’t just disrespectful; it’s actively damaging their ability to make a living. Imagine working hard to get noticed, only to have someone else post your art on their page without credit. Suddenly, that work you put all your time and energy into is getting someone else’s likes, someone else’s comments, and they didn’t lift a finger to make it.

Let’s talk about credit, too, because some people think that a little “credit to the artist” makes it okay to repost. Here’s the thing—it doesn’t. Artists don’t just want credit; they deserve control over where and how their work is shared. A lot of digital artists post their work with watermarks, signatures, or specific dimensions. They set these boundaries because they want to protect their art. Taking that away is like ignoring the “Do Not Touch” sign in a museum and handling a priceless artifact just because you want a closer look. It’s selfish, plain and simple. Use your common sense to think about it.

Digital art is everywhere now, and that’s amazing. But with that visibility comes responsibility. If you like a piece, appreciate it, share it (if the artist allows it), support the artist, maybe even commission something. But don’t just take it. Digital art may exist on a screen, but it’s just as real as anything hanging on a gallery wall. And if we don’t start respecting it that way, we’re going to lose a lot more than just pretty pictures. We’ll lose the artists who create them.

So, in short, here’s why I don’t support art theft of both traditional and digital art– it is selfish, it is disrespectful, and it is harmful to everyone. Art is meant to be shared, appreciated, and experienced, not locked away by some entitled thief who thinks they know better than the artist who made it. If you can’t respect the work, then maybe art just isn’t for you. Because at the end of the day, every stolen piece is a loss for all of us—one less chance to connect, one less story to hear. If we don’t start respecting artists and their art, we risk not only losing amazing artwork but the artists themselves. Because why would anyone keep creating in a world that takes what they make without giving anything back? And if that doesn’t make you think twice, then maybe you need to check your own values.

Thanks for reading, I have no qualms if this blows up, this is my discussion, with myself, my head and a few different mutuals. If you want to send me hate (anon or whichever, once again, I'm not talking about the anon who made me realize my mistake in the first place) or argue about it, go ahead, I won't stop you, but be brave about it and explain why. You don't have to show yourself, you don't have to reveal who you are or feel embarrassed about it, you just have to be brave and explain. I won't mind. I appreciate criticism, I appreciate being called out for an honest mistake, or in my words "a silly little mistake I wouldn't have noticed without someone calling it out". Trust your gut feelings if something feels wrong, it can make a difference.

Please, check out this blog post, it holds a place in my heart.

Thank you once again for reading this. Have a great day/afternoon/evening!