#this isn't @ anyone just thoughts ive been thinking

[yume-fanfare]

something about hina's characterization is that he's both girlish and boyish. boyish in a girl way if you will but you can't really forget one or the other. And sometimes mellow when the situation calls for it but it has to be a rare occurrence or else it won't be significative, that's the fun part of the quiet moments like in tetora's fs1. engstars is lacking when it comes to her theatrics though 💔

[siriuslynephilim]

i just came out to a real life person and i think im having a heart attack

[grey-has-rusted]

^me when i am a sensitive person

[they-of-fixation]

Die Alone Together [Placeholder Name; DRAFT]

A Cult of The Lamb fic (my AU)

There I lay, crouched in the grass, clinging to myself desperately; falling, falling, falling... my mind miles below the soil in which I cowered. The moment I fell to my knees, there became of time this... dissonance, a rift between it and space, and though the ground caught me, I never quite stopped falling- falling away from myself, from this place, and into a memory; miles away from here, years, suspended in an unreachable past and yet frozen in the present. For my dissociation, I could hardly think but one thing:

I was too late.

They're all-

I could scarcely hear myself screaming, nor could I feel the tears stinging my cheeks, nor the burn in my lungs or the ache in my legs from the fighting; my body did not and does not feel like my own. I am not in it. Everything felt distant as I held myself, and as I drew the corpse of one of my own to my chest, I realized how far this place had become from my home.

'They're all dead.'

And I will never get them back.

I don't know how long I laid there for, but I do remember thinking myself damned to the same fate, trapped in the same place; that I'd die there, alongside my brethren, eventually- in some way. I couldn't bring myself to leave them, not even to stand, and had little reason to think anyone would find nor save me. I was alone in the depths of Darkwood, miles away from any living thing- who could possibly hear my crying? I could hardly hear myself, and any person who might would surely, in devotion to the Bishops of the Old Faith, to the Worm, Leshy, end my life.

That is, or so I thought.

There was movement, rustling, in the brush surrounding me, and I was suddenly aware of just how loud I had been mourning, and, consequently, of the fearful silence that followed- but I did not move. I was not frozen in fear, at least not completely, more I was complacent; maybe someone had heard me, and I was going to die here. In a way, I deserved to. Perhaps dying the same way my friends, my found family, had would honor them, perhaps it would free me.

So I stayed. I stayed right where I was, amongst the remains of my community and embracing the body, only turning my head up to look in the direction of the sound, to see my assailant and face them head-on, if only for a moment. I dared not stand nor speak, I just patiently awaited in trepidation whatever fate it'd be to befall me.

It was quiet again for a moment as I stared into the shadowed flora, but then, not only could I hear the crackling of leaves on the forest floor, I could see someone, something, moving towards me. I drew in a sharp, panicked breath despite myself and held it as I watched the cloaked figure step into the clearing and catch sight of me.

I could feel my breath hitch yet again as I made eye contact with what seemed to be a child, at least no older than me, donning the crown of my god, and... not just a child- at that, a lamb?

I knew my face betrayed me; I was never known for my poker face, and despite my position, now was no different. I could not hide my confusion, for it had been years since anyone had seen a lamb. I thought- as we all did- that the Bishops had caused their extinction. The lamb's eyes were dark, stoic- nearly expressionless, if not for the silent and subtle shock at the sight before them; had it been any darker, I would not have noticed. I stared back with exceptional surprise but equal intensity. I did not ask.

Neither did they.

"What is your name?" They spoke softly, their hooves visibly unarmed and reaching towards me in, be it genuine or not, seeming good manner, the bell clasped to their cloak jingling quietly with every step.

"What are you going to do with me?" I diverted; they were a lamb, a living lamb, likely the last of their kind- and better yet, their crown… not to mention that they held no weapon that I could see- but even so, after everything I had gone through, and they as well, I could not be certain of their intentions. It was not in my favor to let down my guard, not with such ease.

They blinked slowly, taking another step my way. "Be not afraid, I mean well. Did he," Their smile faltered, no gesture necessary. "do this?"

"...If you mean Leshy, then I suppose. At least, his following. I," I felt my brow furrow as I forced myself to speak through gritted teeth. "was not here to see."

"Ah."

"You didn't answer my question." My voice cracked; for my tears earlier, I could hardly speak. It was only then I realized that I had never let go of the body- and with this realization, instinctively, I pulled it closer to me.

"Nor did you answer mine."

A beat.

"Your name?"

"Oh. My name is..." My hesitance was not to save face, nor to deceive- I could give a false name to “protect” myself and hide my identity, but if this lamb were to kill me, pretending would do nothing to lengthen my life, it couldn't truly protect me- rather, I was weighing my options, deciding my fate in the only way I knew I could. To continue as I had, or-

I looked down at the doe clasped to my breast: her eyes, lifeless, and lips slightly parted by her final breath. “Fern. My name is Fern," I decided, to honor her, not a lie now that it'd been spoken, but not the truth. If they meant what they said, that they were not here to hurt me, maybe, just maybe, this would be my chance to start anew. I did not turn my head to the lamb again; I let my eyes flutter shut and my head hang low, loosening my grip on the carcass to hold her face in my claws.

“...And yours?"

I could barely choke the last two words out.

"Fern… a pretty name!" Their smile, so mellow, in stark contrast to the death around us, struck me- I could not decide whether it was comforting or off putting in the moment. Again, they reached out their hand. "You may call me Lamb.”

This time I did look up; I watched them cautiously, my eyes shifting from their outstretched hoof, which I still refused to take, to their face.

‘Just… “Lamb”?’ I thought to myself, but said nothing. The question, I decided, was one likely better left unspoken.

“Okay, Lamb- your turn.” I interjected, changing the subject, or at least trying to, for what time now I had lost count. “What do you plan to do with me? Why spare me and not just kill me already?”

“No one deserves to meet a violent end. You deserve to have a choice in the matter; I can't, however, deny having an ulterior motive,” their smile never faltered as my eyes burned a hole through their own. “Would you rather me kill you, or to run away and hide before I have the chance? Or rather, the most forgiving of your options, would you like-” they adjourned, their eyes glinting wildly, still holding contact with my own. “to join me?”

“...Join… you?”

“It isn't safe in Darkwood- though I needn't tell you that- and it isn't much safer in any other of the Bishops’ domains. I can offer you shelter; for a price, of course, but a small one. All I ask for is your loyalty, and your devotion- to me, and to my god.”

“You're asking me… to join your religion?”

“Offering, yes. I won't force you. It is your decision, after all- granted, it is the safest, and in my… qualified opinion, smartest choice of the three.”

“And if I decline?” A face on my behalf, more out of curiosity than defiance.

“Again, I won't force you. But would you truly rather die, or spend your life running, only to lose it to one of them in the end, than to stand by my side? A side you should, in theory, have no hard time taking?”

Any argument I could have made, not that I had one nor any intention of refusing (because what choice did I really have?), was instantly, with ease, brought to a screeching halt. Their honesty, their sharp words and rightful, righteous confidence shook me thoroughly, to my very core; that last statement, a confirmation of my only suspicion. They didn't ask, but they knew. I said nothing, but they knew, and when the realization of their admittance donned on my features, they were more than aware that I knew, too. It was like telepathy, a secret passed silently between us, fate drawing me in.

“I am tired of running.”

“Then? I’m giving you an opportunity you can't possibly refuse.” Their expression darkened, their smile, different now- more serious, more grave; the weight of my situation coming back to me once more, and hitting me like a freight train. “Take my hand and join me, join my cult. You will be safe in the commune, and you can take your life back into your own hands.”

And with this- I looked again from their hoof to their twisted smile and somehow, despite the ominous air about them, emanating from the red crown atop their head, I knew that I’d be safe, or safest, with them- I, reluctant to let go and with a final embrace, laid the doe down in a patch of softer looking grass, and took the Lamb's hand.

[takkamek]

this whole watcher thing is like. it's not the greatest business decision, yeah. but my biggest question is, why?

it's their company, and i don't think they'd make a decision like this on a whim--they all had to sit down and think and discuss move this big for a long time. look at the numbers, all the statistics, the money, and come to the conclusion that they should create their own streaming service. and then decide that all their old content goes there as well.

idk im just disappointed in the decision but it's theirs to make so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[viosjaan]

i don't think you want anything to do with me anymore so i can just vent the texts i want to send to you here

[invisiblyvisiblejay]

people i know irl are not allowed to follow me on here and i prefer if they only see specifically what i show them (bc i want to be able to say whatever i want without worrying abt people getting upset abt me venting or something) but i also know that like girl im dating knows my url (and maybe some other people) and could just like. look it up and see what i post if they wanted to lol. if someone i know irl is reading this without my permission just know that if u ever tell me u looked up my tumblr without me being there i will consider it the same level of privacy breach as reading my journal without my permission (bc i have been very clear abt not wanting people ik irl on my blog) AND because of that i take no responsibility for how anything i post might make u feel

[pokotho]

i was just pulled into a very unexpected group photo and i'm in near tears thinking about how bad i might look in it

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

Hiya there!

I have two questions,

first, what if Katsuki was whipped over a popstar reader?

Also, who's the character in your profile? i wanna maybe draw her.

Much love

-Kovu :>

hello this is LOOOOONG overdue @kovu-bunnbunn im soooo sorry ! i didnt rlly know how to get to this at first cus i've never done hc's before, but either way i hope you like it ! also tumblr just randomly ate this so i had to restart...yay.

p.s.: the character on my profile is my oc ryoko ! she's my mha oc, i'd be so super flattered if you decided to draw her ! (also idk if you couldve guessed but shes my oc x canon katsuki ship I KNOOOOW shocker)

katsuki has literally every single piece of merch he can get his hands on

vinyls, album records, posters, accesories and t-shirts but he never wears them he hides them somewhere in his room so you don't find out he has them.

(you do find out eventually.)

he gets so giddy on the inside when you give him limited edition stuff and that's always something he shows off

"woah man that's limited edition ive been LURKING for that !" "yeah well apparently you haven't been lurkin' hard enough cus I HAVE IT--"

he shows up to all your concerts and somehow he manages to be the loudest one there lmfaooo his ass is NOT on mute.

if you ever take him backstage he's so awkward cus he doesnt know anyone so he just sticks to you (not like he doesn't on the daily)

at most he'll nod at people in greeting (he's kinda scared he'll start stuttering)

but he's scary lookin so the staff n others think he's just protective over you

for sure your other bandmates / staff think he's your personal bodyguard LOLOLOLOL

but nope turns out he's just a loser lol

if you sell photocards as merch or something like that best believe has ALLL of them

collectin em like his phone isn't already filled with pictures of you

his storage about to burst and it's still not enough for 'im LOLOL

he for sure has a secret fan account that entirely revolves around you.

he defends you with his LIFE on there too he's one of them fans😭😭😭

he has a different playlist from specific albums depending on his mood, so whatever playlist he's on there's always at least one song of yours on there

he has a seperate 'bad boy playlist' that he has so you don't find out he's a hyperfan

one time you guys were sharing earbuds in the bus while his playlist was on shuffle and he'd accidently added one of your songs on his edgy dark n brooding cool guy playlist.

needless to say he was more than embarrassed, damn near MORTIFIED and didn't look at you for the whole bus ride 😭😭

gets so flustered when he finds out songs you've written were while you thought of him or were dedicated to him. he gets so blushy about it but he's such a show off

like whenever he hears a song meant for him, he smirks about it to himself and no one understands why but he really doesn't care cus they don't need to understand

cus it's something between you and him <3

all in all, he loves you and your music (and your merch) and he couldn't be prouder to call himself your boyfriend <3

[slayfics]

ive been thinking about a comfort story but instead of katsuki comforting the reader, she comforts him after a long day or struggling with something ❤️

You comfort Katsuki.

1k words

You prepared for an angry Katsuki to burst through the door any moment now. The new hero rankings had come out this afternoon and he had dropped rank, again.

It didn’t take much for you to imagine why. The week before the rankings Katsuki got rushed by reporters. Fresh out of a fight with a villain, adrenaline pumping, they spat out questions pushing for answers.

All the questions they knew would push The Great Lord Explosion Murder God Dynamite’s buttons.

“Dynamite, did you know it was the anniversary of the day you were attacked by the sludge villain?”

“Dynamite, how does it feel being behind Endeavor’s son in the hero charts?”

“Dynamite, can you make a statement about the damage you did to the city in your last fight?”

The list of draining questions went on, all captured on video, as Katsuki quickly lost his cool. Blurting out some colorful words for the reports to, not so politely fuck off.

You heard the keys in the latch and braced yourself for the sight of the angry blond. Yet, such a sight never came, instead, you met with a sight that was much more concerning.

Slumped shoulders, flat affect, vacant gaze. Katsuki sat on the couch silently working at taking off his boots. Not a word spoken to you. No sign of anger.

“Hey,” you greeted, testing the waters with him.

“Hey,” he mumbled without looking up as he tossed his boots aside. Head leaned back against the couch he closed his eyes.

"You want to talk about it?" you asked softly.

Katsuki inhaled sharply and shook his head no without opening his eyes. It was unusual to see him so defeated. Typical fiery ambition completely extinguished, lacking the energy to even be upset, he just sat.

You knew all too well how to extinguish the burning rage inside him, but this? This was new ground.

Your momentary paralysis gave Katsuki exactly what he needed. Space and quiet to just be. Slowly he opened up.

"You think it's because of how I responded to those damn reporters?" He asked.

"Possibly," you hummed. "You're human though Katsuki, all those pestering questions would have got under anyone's skin.

"Yeah but," he sighed before continuing. "You saw all the articles and viral edits. They didn't show the whole video, just the part of me losing my shit. A big majority of people think I blew up at some civilian reporters for no fucking reason," Katsuki huffed. "I don't give a damn about that though; people can think whatever the fuck they want... I'm I don't know," Katsuki paused and you gave him the air to finish processing his thought. "I'm fucking disappointed. All that damn therapy I went through- to still get so pissed at some dumb reporters, I should be way past that now. I'm still losing my temper like a goddamn child," he groaned, the displeasure in his voice weighing heavy.

"Katsuki," you cooed and moved closer to him bringing him into an embrace. Katsuki didn't fight you he welcomed your affection, finding solace from leaning into you. Head resting on your chest you combed your fingers through his hair. "Success isn't linear, and one mistake doesn't erase everything you've accomplished and worked for. It's a minor setback. It's tough but, it's nothing you can't come back on top of," you comforted him squeezing him with one arm and messaging his scalp with the other. Katsuki hummed into your chest taking in your words. You always knew what to say.

"I just fucking hate that I gave those reporters exactly what they wanted. They wanted me to blow up, gives them a good damn news story. Fucking vultures," he scowled.

"Mhm," you nodded. "You did, and you can't change that, but you can change how you're going to react moving forward because we know they aren't going to stop. Especially now that they've seen the effect they've had," you spoke problem-solving with him.

"Tch- yeah. I don't know what the fuck to do though. Walking away has been my go-to when I feel myself about to explode, but- in situations like that I'm rushed and cornered. Can't let out an explosion to fly away either because I'll hurt the fuckers. What's worse is I'm still workin' and trying to get back to the cops and agency to report what the fuck happened with the villain," he replied.

"Maybe you could say that... I'm working please move... or I'm working and cannot accept questions...," You suggested.

"Ha- I don't know about the please but... that's not such a bad idea... I'm goddamn working can't talk idiots," Katsuki huffed then relaxed more into your chest.

You giggled, "That does sound more authentic to Dynamite."

Katsuki nuzzled into your chest, his breaths becoming deeper, and the tension in his shoulders he had been carrying around all day finally easing up. "I shoulda called you right when I found out," he murmured.

"You know I'm always here whenever you're ready to talk... about anything," you answered. "I'm sorry I didn't call right away... sometimes I'm not sure when you need your space to process."

"You ain't got to apologize... I know my temperament isn't the easiest to read," he noted.

"I wouldn't have you any other way," you teased, pulling him up to press a kiss on his nose.

Katsuki clicked his tongue, "Cut that cheesy crap out," he complained the tips of his ears burning hot. "Besides, I still got dirt and shit all over me."

"I don't care," you remarked, giving him another kiss on his cheek.

Katsuki shifted in one swift motion pinning you down on the couch, "I said cut it out brat," he smirked, taking in the sight of you beneath him. "Why don't you come get cleaned up with me instead," he offered.

An offer you happily accepted.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69

[snailpaste]

Can i get some McSugarDaddy Crocodile headcannons but reader actually has feelings for croco? ive been thinking about this a little too much lately

Sugar Daddy!Crocodile x GN!Reader

CONTENT: Crocodile x GN! Reader, SFW, kind of mutual pining

AN: This isn't what i wanted but if I didn’t post it now I think it’d just go to the great fic graveyard in my drive (30 and counting) sorry for the wait ;-;

You’d caught crocodile’s eye at one of the many Gala’s he hosted (after all, charity was always a brilliant way for him to further his influence, to make connections and gain power), where he’d struck up conversation with you after asking to share a drink. It had gone well, and by the time the event had drawn to an end he’d given you his den den number and offered to pay for your taxi home.

Crocodile wasn’t one to chase after people, much more content to work on furthering himself or his many business enterprises. He simply didn’t need to – there were enough many men and women willing to fling themselves at him should he ever be in need of company – which is why he found it so strange that, not but two days after meeting you at a Gala, here he was, den-den pulled closer towards him on his desk than usual, eyes flickering to it every so often as he worked through the growing heap of paperwork.

rest under cut ->

If anyone were to ask why, not they would ever question him, he’d simply tell them he was waiting on an important business call, rather than hoping for a stranger, who’s laugh he unfortunately hadn’t been able to stop thinking about, to call.

Your arrangement started as “purely transactional,” in the words of Crocodile.

He didn’t expect sexual favours (at least, to begin with) but simply wanted your company at events, a presence beside him to help gnaw away at the tedious meetings and public appearances he endured in the name of business. You’d wake up with a voice message on your den den, telling you to be ready at 7, with details scarce aside from to check your mailbox, inside which was a new outfit fitting for whatever event he saw fit to bring you to. Over time as he learned more about you, they became more and more tailored to your tastes.

He kept things distant at the start. His touches were modest, an arm around your waist or shoulder, a hand guiding you at the small of your back, but nothing more. You found yourself begging to crave his touch, leaning into the warmth of his palm or wrapping your own around his arm.

His conversations, while interesting, never betrayed any of his true emotions, and he opted to leave you with cash rather than buying anything else for you specifically. Gradually, you began to hope might actually start to open up to you. What did he look like unguarded? How did he look when he was at peace 

As the weeks passed, you found yourself growing accustomed to his presence, the initial intimidation and curiosity replaced by a quiet comfort. Crocodile listens to whatever you have to say intently, eyes never leaving your face, always asking the right questions and relishing in the way you blush when he leans closer to you, blowing cigar smoke out the window and brushing your hair out of your face.

While Crocodile isn’t out of touch with his feelings, he does prefer to ignore them. He immediately noticed how you changed towards him, leaning your head into his hand when he cupped your cheek and laughing a little bit more openly, and sneaking looks when you thought he didn’t notice – he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart feel just a little warmer.

Your dates, as you unknowingly began to phrase them much to his amusement, became far more frequent, with him using anything as an excuse to be around you for longer. Crocodile, it seemed, had an uncanny ability to understand your desires. He took you to places and events you’d been wanting to go to without you asking, such as art galleries, cosy bookstores and grand libraries, or bookings at theatres or cinemas.

Crocodile encourages you to pursue any and all of your interests- there’s nothing he admires more than when you go off on a tangent about something you’re passionate about, or your dedication. With him, money isn’t an issue, he’ll happily pay whatever fees you might need to achieve.

Your relationship progressed from you being a pretty thing draped off of his arm, another way for him to flaunt his wealth and power, to something more personal. He surprised you with a visit to something you’d mentioned excitedly to him weeks ago, booked the wing of a restaurant you fancied for just the two of you, and invited you with him to the opening evening of an exclusive art exhibition of his favourite movement.

It was only when he caught himself thinking about you with a smile while smoking his evening cigar, that crocodile decided to address how he felt– whatever it was.

After a long night that left you nodding off and leaning against him, crocodile opted to take you back to his house. He’d carried you up to a guest room with his jacket wrapped around your shoulders, placing you down in the bed and mumbling a soft good-night into your hair. It was then that, in your half-asleep stupor, you accidentally confessed your feelings, clinging sleepily to his shoulders and mumbling for him to stay with you. He didn’t make a big deal of it, but he felt his heart skip a beat, and allowed you to cuddle against his chest until you fell asleep.

The following morning he told you plainly and simply, wanting to cut the tension that ran thick as you drank him out of the corner of your eye (and how could you not, with normally slicked back hair in loose waves, ringed hands sliding you a coffee across the island, his bare chest peeking through his dark brocade dressing gown) that he was interested in you, interested in a relationship more than this.

After this, he begins to open up- lets you run your hands through his hair from behind, and stay at his house as often as you’d like. His laughs become lighter and more genuine, and you find he has a dimple in his left cheek whenever he smiles just so.

He still buys you gifts and treats you, but now they’re far more intimate, and more tailored to your tastes than ever. He takes you with him on his business trips around the globe, letting you soak in the sun or encouraging you to explore the attractions while he attends to business.

He surprises you with gifts delivered directly to your house, a box of your favourite treats, each delicately wrapped in coloured paper, a potted plant he collected from your shared trip to alabasta, or something he saw you looking at or considering buying with his own note attached. Another time, he appeared at your doorstep with an assortment of flowers, (he’s very into “classic courting”) each flower was one he picked carefully to reflect a message to you.

His love languages are quality time and acts of service, but he craves physical touch and, as you find, becomes quite clingy when he’s tired. He loves sharing baths with you, holding you to his chest and relaxing in the warm bubbles, and on his one day of rest per week, lazing around in bed with you during the early morning hours.

The time he realised he was well and truly in love with you was when you were sitting in his lap, his arm looped around your waist and hand smoothing over your cheek, as you had reached up to trace your fingertips over his raised scar. He’d felt his heart jump into his throat at the feeling, realising he’d never allow anyone else to touch him there, and when you smiled at the light dusting to his cheeks, he realised he was well and truly fucked.

[vhstown]

time out (part 1)

[boxer au] — 42!miles g morales x gn!reader

summary: Miles Morales makes boxing history. Your boyfriend isn't there to celebrate.

warnings: angst-ish, description of (boxing) injuries, self-destructive behaviours, briefly implied death, pov switch (yay), gtranslate spanish

word count: 3.9k

a/n: ive never written 42 miles before but he's a cool lil guy split into two parts cuz it was too long 😭 semi-edited (for the millionth time)

PART 2 → / THE AU

"Just six rounds in, Miles Morales knocks out the Vulture!"

Screams and cheers exploded from your phone as you laid in bed, watching the recap of your boyfriend's boxing match. Your eyes were straining from how close you were holding the screen to your face; this was probably the third time you’d watched Miles’ win. After training to hell and back, he’d made it to the national league with you and Aaron to support him. He did more than just “make it”, in fact. His “revolutionary” victory was plastered all over social media and the news. Everywhere you looked was: “17-YEAR-OLD NYC BOXER OVERTAKES LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMPION ‘VULTURE’ IN US NATIONALS”. Miles Morales — your boyfriend — had made boxing history.

The giddy grin on your face only grew wider as he came up again on screen, sporting the stoic expression he'd perfected over the last few months behind the overly-done editing and animations of the recap. As much as you'd wanted to go out and see him live (though begging your family to let you go to Vegas wasn’t exactly feasible), he'd made it clear he didn't want you, or anyone for that matter, in that arena. It was something about having "total focus" — and it must've worked, you thought, as you watched him give his post-fight interview.

“I jus’ hope you watchin’, cause I’m here. Miles Morales made it!”

Despite his boyish, adrenaline-fuelled shout at the mic, the quiet laugh you let out was one of pride rather than embarrassment. He had every right to celebrate, and you were watching, even if it wasn’t live. Everything he'd done up until this point was well worth it: the constant training, sparring, the late nights and early mornings — maybe even the countless unanswered texts and missed calls too. Miles had worked himself to the bone, and while it might've worried you at the time, it was nothing compared to the satisfaction you felt while watching him on screen. He knew what he was doing; Miles was semi-professional at this point. You had to let him do his own thing, even if that meant letting him go for a while.

Right now, though, Miles was home from Vegas. Tapping out of the video, you scrambled to your messages. The last ones were from you, sent weeks ago, a "good luck" and "i love you" read and without a response. Your fingers kept missing the keys, and you frowned at yourself until you finally were able to hit send.

CONGRATS BABY!!! Not delivered

IM SO PROUD OF YOU Not delivered

You tried resending them, only to be met with the same red message.

why arent my texts sending Not delivered

miles??? Not delivered

Not delivered? It'd almost been three days since the tournament; Miles always had his phone on.

"To leave a message, please press one—" The call went to voicemail for the third time. Your stomach swirled with something like uncertainty. It didn't even ring at all. Miles made it a habit to always be available, so why...?

Boxers needed time to recover, he was probably just tired and turned his phone off. Or he could be busy with an interview; Miles Morales was sort of a celebrity right now — who wouldn't want to talk to the 17-year-old boxing prodigy? You knew you wanted to, prodigy or not.

It was probably because you hadn’t seen Miles in so long, but possibilities kept forming in your head, disappearing just as fast. What if he blocked you? Or he could’ve changed his number. Were you over? No. Nope. No way. Not like this.

There was one other reason that made some sort of sense, but you decided to think against it. Miles had made it to the semi-finals in entire the National League. It was over; he'd gotten what he wanted. He was supposed to be resting right now.

Miles wasn't that stupid, right...?

You pulled up Rio's contact. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Riiiiiiing, riiiiiiing…

Better for him to be safe than sorry — or stupid.

"Hello?"

"Hola, tía, uh, could I speak to Miles?" You felt just a little crazy as you held the phone to your ear, but there was no harm in calling his mom.

"Ah, he's not home right now — said he was going out with his tío."

"Oh… Do you know where they went?"

"I'm not sure. Something important. About a... contract?"

"Contract…?" you muttered to yourself. “Okay… thank you.” It wasn't like you knew anything about a contract, though it wasn't like Miles would tell you anyway. At least he was safe, and with Aaron. It was probably important, official — something that didn't involve you. Not a lot of things in Miles’ life involved you, it seemed.

"How have you been?” Rio's voice interrupted your thoughts. You had called her out of nowhere, and after a while. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Oh, um..." The last time you'd talked to Rio was… right before Miles had left for Vegas. Well, you hadn't exactly talked. All you remember is just comforting her in silence. "Yeah, tía. Have you?"

"I have, but I've just been all over the place recently. So many reporters…" Rio's voice lifted up slightly in exasperation. You could only imagine what it was like for her. Your feelings suddenly felt a lot less significant, and you were back to your comforting mode all over again.

"I see. Must be exhausting." You attempted a polite laugh, which came out more like a sigh. If only you could be as patient as Rio…

"I'm so proud, though." Her voice warmed with a smile. If your chest ached with melancholy or empathy, you didn't know. "I didn't want him to leave home so soon. I still think this whole… professional thing is a bit too much, but… I want to trust him also."

"I'm sure he'll be fine, tía. If he's in the nationals already, he's probably getting a lot of support." It was more like you were trying to convince yourself. "I'm sure he has great coaches... and he's got me and Aar— uh, his uncle, too."

"I know…" For a moment, you weren't sure if either of you had anymore to say.

"…If not, I'll have to go there myself and give them a piece of my mind, eh?" she continued. You weren’t sure if it was a joke, but a smile formed on your lips anyway.

"Yeah…" A quiet laugh leaving your mouth at the image of Rio cussing out Miles' poor manager, in two languages no less. No wonder he was such a good boxer — Rio must have passed down her fighting spirit. "Maybe you'd even get signed,” you joked, the image of that even more amusing (and a scary possibility.)

Rio let out her own laugh, and your smile only grew; talking to her always made you feel better. "Me? Boxing? Nunca (Never.) — I'll work in that hospital until the end of me."

There was another stretch of silence. You thinned out a sigh, trying not to let the smile leave your face, even if she wasn’t there to see it.

"Come over for dinner tomorrow. I'll tell Miles to come and get you."

"Sure, tía, I'd love to." He probably just needed a break. Not from you specifically, but in general.

"You know tú y Miles sois mi vida, ¿bien?" (you and Miles are my life, right?) It wasn’t often Rio said that, but you always remembered every time she did, and how it made you feel — like you were family. Rio was pretty much a second mother to you. It made you wonder what Miles' father would've been like.

"Well, it's getting late, and I have a lot of laundry to fold." Rio's tone had a fake sort of enthusiasm — tiredness? You couldn’t really tell with her; the woman was always upbeat. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will." It was late, you realised, and the sky outside your window was a lot darker than it had been before. "You too, tía."

“Descansa, ¿sí?” (Get some rest, yes?)

“Sí, tía.”

The call ended, and you were left facing your messages, a bittersweet feeling hugging you from behind. Right now, Miles was out with Aaron, about some contract, probably to do with boxing…

But why weren't your texts going through?

miles are you ok? Not delivered

im really proud of you Not delivered

i wish i couldve seen you live Not delivered

It wasn’t like there was much point, but…

i love you Not delivered

Maybe it was just out of habit; maybe you just missed him. Your reflection frowned at you behind the messages, thumb hovering over the power button to shut your phone off, until your phone pinged with a notification — Aaron was texting you.

Hey man

Out of town

LMK if miles breaks in

You sat up immediately, fingers floating uselessly above the keys for a moment.

sure Read at 11:24PM

are you out of town already? Read at 11:25PM

Ping!

Yeah

@ Queens

Miles was with Aaron about some “contract”... and Aaron was in Queens?

You knew Miles hadn't blocked you, or turned his phone off — he had no signal. And there was only one place in Brooklyn you could think of that had no reception, and that MIles had any reason to be in. It was also the one place you didn't want him to go to: that damn warehouse.

The place he’d spent training all those weeks — what reason did he have to be there right after finishing the tournament? Putting on your jacket, blinking back the sleepiness and collecting the fleeting remains of patience you had left, you could only hope that Miles had even a shred of common sense with him.

THWACK! THWACK! THWA— Crack!

"Mierda..." (Shit...) Miles hissed, drawing his glove away from the punching bag. His hand was paralysed for a moment, a deep, gnawing pang running through his fingers down to the rest of his arm. The tight gloves only suffocated him more, doing nothing to ease the pain as he gritted his teeth and waited for it to dull down.

Why was he even here? It was over — that Norman bastard had blown him off hours ago. It felt like a couple minutes, the words still fresh in his mind. Searing pain shot through his hand when he tried to flex his fingers, the rest of his muscles starting to ache too. This was going to hurt after the adrenaline wore off. Damn it, Morales.

The walls flashed white all of a sudden, a faint rumble of thunder interrupting the pounding of his heartbeat as he tried to straighten himself out. It was quiet, except for the sounds of the incoming storm. The playlist he was listening to had finished ages ago — your playlist. If he didn’t want to think about you, he wasn’t doing a good job of it.

Rain blasted quietly against the windows, and Miles’ eyes stung with dryness as he squeezed them shut. There was no way he'd be able to go back now, not to you, definitely not to his mom. She'd probably go on and on about how he should've taken his jacket, how he ruined his hair in the rain again, maybe how he wasted his damn time being a boxer...

It was probably fair; his mom had enough on her plate trying to support them both — especially him right now. She’d done everything in her power to make sure he got to Vegas, and he’d just left her alone again right after. But how was he meant to face her now? He was supposed to make her proud, make his dad proud, but it wasn’t like he had any pride left after he’d lost his contract. The Green Goblin had probably set the record for fastest knockout when Miles lost to him. Of course just the semi-finals weren’t enough; Norman Osborn was the big shot of boxing, and if Miles lost to some rookie in just about 15 seconds, then maybe he wasn’t worth the investment.

It didn’t make sense — nothing about The Green Goblin (or “Harry”, whatever they liked to gossip about) made sense. He’d just debuted, but didn’t even look like a boxer; he didn’t stand right, his style was inconsistent, his head movement was all over the place, but his punch had almost knocked Miles’ brain straight out of his skull. It was almost superhuman. Even with no openings, the freak of nature had forced his way through like an animal. And he was scrawny, not nearly as built as Miles at least, like he should’ve been in the weight class down. Either way, the asshole was being celebrated, and Miles was out of a contract.

And Miles had just stood there, while Norman berated him and tore Miles’ dream apart right in front of his very eyes. Maybe he’d hoped too much as an “amateur” boxer. That’s all he was, apparently — no matter how hard he worked, or what he achieved, or what he promised.

“Why should I keep you? The Vulture was destined to lose at his age.”

“Even rigged matches wouldn’t get you anywhere.”

“I mean, you’re as good at fighting as one of those street kids.”

“That’s all you were before I decided to give you a chance, no?”

The image of the Norman’s uncanny, sneering face sent his good fist reeling towards the punching bag. Should’ve pummelled his pelirojo (redhead) ass to the ground—

"Miles!"

The glove crumpled mid-air against the bag, arm going rigid. It was silent as he let out a breath through his teeth — he wasn’t hearing things, was he?

The rush was starting wearing off, his mind starting to cloud and pain faintly radiating again from his other hand. His good fist tightened inside the glove, pushed against the bag which was still and awkwardly tilted.

You’re losing focus, just punch the damn thing—

"Miles, what the hell are you doing here?"

The noise of the door shutting made him turn around, floor squeaking under his stumbling feet. It was you by the door, breathing just as heavily as him and dripping head to toe with rain, in a jacket that was way too thin for any sort of weather.

Dios... (God...) He knew he couldn’t be hallucinating that disapproving look on your face.

Rain was pattering gently against the glass as he pulled his arm away away from the bag, letting it swing in front of him before his eyes met yours.

"It's midnight, what are you..." A sharp intake of breath interrupted your words — a shiver.

"What’re you doin’ here...?" Miles asked instead through a grimace. His voice came out wrong — hoarse. Cold sweat was clinging to his skin, and his throat was dry and tightening. A mess — that’s what you were talking to right now, barely your boyfriend. All he could do was stare as the rush died down and his senses were coming back to him. The fog in his mind made it hard to speak, even harder to look at you.

"My texts and calls weren't going through— You weren't with Aaron or your mom, I just..." You sucked in another breath through your teeth; raindrops were glistening on your skin. He should’ve just stayed home, damn it. "Was just worried."

Well, he certainly looked worrying, even more so than you. Swallowing back his breathlessness wasn’t helping; it was like he’d ran a marathon with his fists. The pain from his knuckle was starting to bleed into the rest of his hand so much so that it might’ve been broken.

"'M good... You, though?" He let out a bit of a growl to clear his throat before deciding to cut straight to the chase: you’d come here in the middle of the night, in the rain, by yourself. As much as he was being an idiot right now, the amount of times he’d told you to not do any of those things, pleaded with you even, was making you look like the delirious one in his eyes. Miles was being stubborn, but he knew you were worse.

“You insane…?” he muttered, taking a step away from the bag. “Did Aaron tell you to come here or sumn’?"

"No, he was supposed to be with you," you shot back, eyes narrowing at him from under your hood before thunder bellowed from all around. The rain was growing into a loud static noise, and your voice was muffled as your expression grew more exasperated. "You came home 3 days ago and you didn't even text me. Yeah, I probably should've texted you, and I tried, but now you're here training alone again when your mom thinks you're with Aaron and—"

"You come here to scold me?" His jaw crunched a little as he tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Miles wasn’t trying to be mad at you — he was just mad in general. It just so happened to be in your direction right now.

“Huh? No, I came here because you scared the hell out of me — and Aaron told me to not let you break into his place.”

If it was supposed to be funny, the laugh he let out was anything but amused. At least Aaron wasn’t here for him to disappoint too, or get a weirdly-phrased life lesson from, or both. “Well I’m not breakin’ in, and I told you, I’m good, so I don’t get why you’re still here.”

You stepped a little closer, and Miles’ heels dug into the ground to keep himself from moving. “Isn’t it obvious? Or are you just being difficult on purpose?”

“Difficult?” he mirrored dryly, trying to push back the growing exhaustion clouding his head.

“Can you not just take a break for once? It’s over, Miles; you already won—”

“I didn’t win.” The walls echoed with his voice, words having escaped on their own. It wasn’t at you, but he didn’t know what he was mad at, resolve fading as he watched your face straighten with realisation.

“Don’t tell me that’s why you’re here…”

His fingers unconsciously clawed into the boxing glove, pain shoot through his hand. Nothing came out of his mouth, but his silence was loud — incriminating. That was the reason, right? That he didn't win?

“Kid didn’t stand a chance.” What was the point of you being here?

“A one-punch concussion — on a newbie, no less.” It was over, like you said.

“It’s a shame, I bet on him too.” Everyone had given up on him.

“You should be resting right now— you’re shaking, Miles.” So why wouldn't you?

“No ‘m not…” is all he could muster, flexing his shoulders uncomfortably. Your hand was on his arm before he could realise, and he was met with a stern look as he tried to keep his gaze from shaking too.

The velcro on his gloves crunched as you started undoing them, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop you. It’s not like he had the energy.

“You coulda’ got hurt on your way here.” The croak in his voice made him sound more hopeless than reprimanding as you slipped off the first glove, pausing half-way down his palm. His bare palm.

“…I could’ve got hurt?” Miles held back a sigh as he was made to look at his own hand. Bruised, blackened, branded with anger — it hurt more to look at it than anything. “You didn’t wear your wraps?”

The other glove slid off, revealing the fresh, festering swelling coming from his middle knuckle — the aftermath of that sickening cracking noise. You took his curled hand, easing up his middle finger and making him hiss under his breath.

“Think you can straighten it?” you muttered, gently trying to do it yourself only to lose his hand from your grip.

“’S gonna be fine,” he mumbled, eyes fixed to the side as his hand closed back up.

“It won’t if you can’t move it properly.”

“You a doctor now?”

“Nah, but your mom’s a nurse.” You carefully held his hand by palm, thumb tracing over the tender, split skin, his fingers wrapping around the side of your hand in futile protest. He’d have to bother his mom again — he didn’t even think about that. “You basically just punched yourself.”

Everything you were saying was right — it always was. He hated that fact.

“You a boxing expert too?” he thought to retort.

“Thought that was supposed to be you.” Miles’ eyes narrowed, and yours narrowed in response. “I don’t get it, baby...” you sighed, shaking your head a little as you put down the gloves to the side.

Baby. His breath almost hitched. You were dating, and it didn’t even seem like it anymore. Not after all those weeks apart. The word didn’t even feel endearing, it was condescending, like he didn’t deserve it. Maybe he was being a baby, and maybe he always had been. You were the one who always had to drag him out of this make-shift gym. Right now was no different, except…

“…Why are you still doing this?” he heard you mutter, still turned away with his hand in your grip. You didn’t even know the half of it.

“Why are you still here?” His hand tried to slip away again, but you only took it by the wrist instead, now facing him.

“Why won’t you answer my questions, Miles?” Your voice deadened into a whisper, only serving to frustrate him.

“I don’t know why you care so much.” He let out a quiet huff, staring at your hand when your grip ceased to relax.

“I care because you look like you’re about to pass out and I can’t let my boyfriend kill himself over something stupid—”

“I’m not killing myse—” A pained groan escaped his mouth as you ruthlessly pushed up his injured finger.

“Don’t push me, Miles.” Oh, you were serious.

“You’re pushin’ sumn’,” he strained through gritted teeth. “Mierda… quit it already.”

The pain tore on another moment, and he was just now realising how bad it actually hurt. All you were doing was staring at him, brows knitted together. “Cariño, please…” he whispered, a wince forming on his face.

Your hand loosened, and he let out a quiet, frustrated, somewhat relieved sigh.

Still a sucker for nice words... He didn’t say them as much as he would’ve liked.

“You need to take a time out,” you stated after a beat of silence. The expression on your face was serious again, killing any sense of tenderness you might’ve shown.

He freed his hand from your grip with the opportunity, before giving you a dubious look. “Like, for kids?”

“Like for boxers, dumbass.” Your gaze followed his retreating hand for a moment before falling back on his eyes. “But if you want me to treat you like a kid…”

“I’m good.” Another roar of thunder rang out before he could add anything, and the rain was so heavy that anything you could see from the windows became a blur.

“…You got your jacket?” you suggested, without much hope.

The idea only made Miles’ eyes squeeze shut again. A shallow exhale left him, and he tried not to let his fatigue cloud his judgement. If he kept talking stupid to you, he’d probably have worse to worry about than a broken knuckle. “You think imma go outside?”

All you could do was sigh. It seemed like the two of you would be in “time out” for a while.

🕸️🔭👾

thank you for reading part 2 soon but then again its not my fav fic in the world 💔 i rewrote this like 8 trillion times and it still wasn't clicking for me 😭 idk i just got sick of editing it again and again

this isn't as short as my usual fics because i felt like i needed to add context... I've never written an au or anything remotely original so this is just yeah... im tryna figure it out! i have . too much lore for this au

reblogs appreciated lmk if you did like it (i hope this is someone's cup of tea lmao)

catch my atsv masterlist here !

[pencileraser1]

things i noticed/thoughts about most recent rewatches of dps (plus laserdisk deleted scenes):

whenever theres a group scene i've started watching the characters that the story isn't focusing on to see what they do and i've been having a fun time with that. pitts and cameron specifically seem to almost always be doing something interesting in the background.

hopkins!!!! my favorite minor character who somehow got character development despite having like 2 lines!!!! the last guy to stand on the desk but he did it!!!

sometimes i do like to think about what the rest of the students thought about the dead poets society, esp in alternate timeline neil lives dps keeps meeting universe. like yeah theres this guy in their class whose one of the most credited students in the school and we think he maybe started a cult. idk though. but that group runs out into the woods every few days to do god knows what and one of them keeps talking about "dead poets honor" whatever that means and holy shit welton star student neil perry started a cult.

i watched the movie with headphones. and maybe it's because ive seen this movie Far too many times and mabe i'm listening too hard but it was Really obvious sometimes when audio was added in post production. llke in the sweaty toothed madman scene when you can hear laughing and to be fair the camera is behind their heads. but it does Not look like anyone's laughing. my favorite is at the end of the phone call to chris scene where knox is like i'm gonna seize the day!! and runs up the stairs and the poets are cheering him on and neil is sort of yelling "carpe!!!!" and i could be wrong but i'm like 75% certain that the person singing is Also rsl so now neil is just speaking two times at once somehow. anyways it didn't ruin the experience for me or anything it was maybe just a little bit funny to notice but very sorry if this did ruin anyone's viewing.

people talk a lot about how rsl and ethan hawke really made their characters what they are but i have to add dylan kussman to that list. I get the impression that older versions of the movie didn't really give as much depth to cameron and watching dylan kussmans performance is like. he Knew who his character was so fucking well and it shows!! like the deleted scene of them getting clubs assigned. like i could tell So Much about cameron from that scene

for how little she actually appeared, there is an emphasis put on the fact that neil's mom smokes pretty frequently. and i think that's interesting considering neil is one of two poets shown actively smoking. neil's mom doesn't appear for very long in the movie but during that time it definitely seems like the movie is intentionally making parallels between the two, particularly in the last argument with neil's father. neil and his mother are both sitting for almost the whole time, which contrasts with his father who is standing. they are both almost powerless in this scene. they stand up at almost the same time. anyways there's a couple different possibilities for what this could mean? that i've though of? 1. to show that neil's mother is in a similar situation to the one neil is in in regards to neil's father and 2. maybe a stretch here but the theory that neil inherited his mental illness at least partially from his mother. i'm pretty sure 1 was fully intentional on the directors part, not entirely sure about 2 though

unmanned flying desket scene: it's probably cause he and ethan wrote the scene themselves but the way rsl talks in this scene feels more like the way he talks in general than the rest of the script. like briefly neil perry is talking in rsl's voice. one of my absolute favorite scenes though the sarcastic dialogue is so good.

the light of knowledge at the first shot of the film vs. todd standing on his desk at the last shot of the film paralel

[yuri-is-online]

idk if ur into more soft + toxic jadeyuu but if u aren't just ignore this plz 🙏😭 and sorry in advance this got out of hand (cw: jade purposely poisoning yuu, mentions of jade purposefully playing with yuu's feelings)

anyway, ur 'jade poisoning yuu' idea gave me thoouuuughhts and ive just been imaging jade who only ever saw yuu as like a pawn at first cuz he wanted someone to play with for a while-- and jade being jade constantly makes mushroom dishes but imagine his surprise when they actually accept his meal and eat it happily.

people usually find his mushroom obsession annoying and offputting so he's suprised but OBVIOUSLY his first thought to this yuu eating his dishes is 'now i finally have someone to test all these poisonous mushrooms on!! ^^' but his heart skips a beat when he thinks of them. jade merely brushes it off as his excitement of shrooms

so the next time he makes a mushroom dish for yuu, the mushroom is poisonous and they suffer the effects of it. he's not even trying to hide what he did and he's actually more curious to see how they'd react.

but they accept his invitation to eat dinner again for some reason??? and his heart does another weird fluttery thing when they say yes but jade takes the opportunity anyway and poisons yuu again

this continues for a while and anyone would think that jade would've gotten bored of them by now, but he's... hanging out with them even more? and taking them on even more dates that don't include mushrooms, poisonous or not?

and honestly, even jade himself is surprised because there isn't a coherent reason to why he's doing these things with them. sometimes (before all this happened) he'd hold their hand and give a kiss or 2 just to see their disappointment when he didn't act lovey-dovey the very next day>> but he's been doing these romantic actions every day as their "poison mushroom dates" increased.

he still smiles when he kisses yuu but it's a different kind of smile. his heart is fluttering more and more often, his cheeks are turning pink when they hold his hand and he's feeling all kinds of things he's never felt before.

he lays in his bed one night thinking about yuu and he realizes he's fallen in love. he never expected this to happen but he smiles and giggles and tells his mushrooms all about his newfound revelation.

now whenever mushroom dates happen (which are sometimes still poisonous ofc), he feeds them to yuu with his own hand.

You must be dreadfully lonely. That's the only reason Jade can think of for why you let him do this. Perhaps you truly think yourself to be alien, that the fleeting touches he grazes you with are all you deserve. Not that he will tell you otherwise, he's far too interested in finding out where your line lies.

But he finds his instead.

If I ever say no to more soft + toxic jadeyuu assume that is not me. they/them used for yuu, same CW from above, i don't think this is borderline anymore it's full yandere

It was supposed to be another test of your limits, a slight apology for paying some attention to a visiting student he'd previously only shown to you. Just one kiss to the back of their hand to seal a completely unnecessary deal, and you had refused to seek him out for a whole week. He was proud of you, truly he was, but not remorseful in his addition to this particular dish. Jade watches you roll the pasta around in your mouth and wince as you try to speak. The numbness spreads from your tongue to the back of your throat and you make no noise-

But eat the rest of the plate, not even rolling your eyes once. You cannot speak, but you still smile when he asks if the food his good. And for some reason now his words were stuck.

"You're a good cook, we should do this again sometime." You hoarsely say as he nods quickly, staring down at your cleaned plate. A wicked, giddy smile overwhelms him, he has a dedicated test subject now; oh how delightful you have proved to be, not at all as boring as he had first thought. ~~~~ The second attempt he has you make together and he wonders what it is laced more with, toxins or his joy at your strange willingness to let him drag you around. Up the mountains you had gone together to fetch a pail of mushrooms, and when you fell down after consuming the crown he found himself jumping after, your now flimsy body cradled in his arms.

"Oh dear, I think I added a bit too much." He has to look the very image of a devil, and though you don't really have the ability to escape anyway he still finds himself holding you quite close to his chest. "Do give me chance to make it up to you? This Saturday perhaps?"

"There's an unbirthday party that afternoon." You sound almost as disappointed as he feels angered. "Perhaps we could do Friday?"

Oh of course you could, he does hope you have your apologies prepared for Riddle; if you intend to return after this then you cannot be upset when you are much too sick to attend. Or perhaps he should try to control the dose and accompany you? The thought of you among the roses in a stylish outfit is doing odd things to his chest. ~~~~ "I don't know what it is you want but please stop." Azul is the only one who would ever be brave enough to scold him like this. "I never liked watching you tease the prefect, but since they were willing to work at a lesser rate I endured it but this is just painful."

"Oya, I take offense to that." Jade "sniffles" because truly he does not know what to do. Who would have thought a simple request for some time off would- well never mind of course it would spark a debate. But he hadn't listed the prefect at all in his note, just that his club would be going camping over the weekend and he was intending to be unavailable. Just because he has been addicted to your presence as of late does not mean anything. Sure, he has not poisoned you in a while (you almost seem disappointed, what a truly tempting little-) "I assure you everything I have done is with the prefect's consent." Has he truly been spending so much time with you that it is obvious you will be tagging along? And why does the idle thought that this could invite danger cause such a painful feeling- fear could it be fear that he is feeling? Over you?

Azul massages his temples as he lets out a truly painful sigh. "That's sort of the problem, have you even thought about what that means?" Jade increases the volume of his sobs. "Of course you haven't look, I will approve your request but please for the love of the sea do not do anything actionable?"

"I have no idea what you could possibly be implying." His cries magically dissipating as he happily goes to his room to look through his closet and prepare. ~~~~ Jade dreams of Yuu that night. He dreams of the plush of your lips and thighs, of the comforting grip of your hand as he walks down the hallway or along a trail, his mind is tortured with images of what he pictures your sleeping face to be like.

He awakes with the realization that he will soon know. Azul was right he had not thought about what any of this meant, of his actions, of yours. And if he must own the truth he still does not know what yours mean, and that scares him even if he laughs loud enough for Floyd to throw a pillow at his head.

"I love them." He whispers to the terrariums on his wall. "I love them." He vows to the mushrooms in his garden and the moon somewhere up in the sky over the seas. How unpredictable, how beautiful, how very much like him to not tell you why he insists on feeding you himself on your trip, or rests your head in his lap the next time you sleep off the poison. There is a process to these things, he thinks anyway, and Jade has been impolite enough to skip several steps. Perhaps, he idly thinks as he traces the size of your finger, you will let him skip several more? After all, there is so very much you deserve, and he is surprisingly willing to give.

[gabessquishytum]

So ive had a brain worm thats had me knawing at the bars of my cage foamed at the mouth and i thought you'd appreciate it

I've been obsessed with the concept of knot fucking and yknow i feel hob deserves to be fucked by a fat unyielding knot

Clutching onto the sheets for dear life while Dream grunt fucks his massive knot in and out of hobs poor abused little snatch, pining him down by the backs of his thighs so he's folded in half and helpless to do nothing else but take it

Just absolutely slack jawed over it, eyes rolling up into his head and drooling how fucked stupid he is over it, his poor overworked cunt wet and loud, squirting pathetically everytime dream pulls his knot free from his greedy gripping pussy and squelching loudly every time he shoves back in

By the end of it the bed is wet underneath him and dream has fucked hob open so thoroughly that he can only squeeze weakly at the knot locking him, all the copious cum dream has pumped him with frothy and dripping obscenely around the edges of the knot

Tbh was definitely thinking about sugar daddy salt and pepper alpha dream absolutely ruining gorgeous sugar baby beta/omega hob's holes for anyone else and like with just a dash of a breeding kink

Absolutely foaming at the mouth for this tbh.

Hob has never even shared a heat with anyone, bless him. But he met this gorgeous older alpha at one of the university bars, and quickly discovered that Dream was a professor in the art department (Hob is studying history so their paths haven't crossed before). He also discovers that Dream is suave, irresistible, and has a knot bigger than Hob’s whole hand.

Hob had already cum three or four times before he got a knot in him. Dream made the foreplay so good that Hob was shaking before he even got fucked. Dream basically sucked the slick out of him and made sure he was absolutely dripping, and then he spent what felt like hours just rubbing his cock against Hob’s hole. Not going in, just teasing him until he begged for it. And oh, Hob was so happy to beg.

Dream fucked him so good, he really did. But when Hob thought it was over - when the alpha came inside him and the knot swelled into place - Dream didn't stop. He kept fucking Hob, slower now but still firm and dominant. Nudging his knot in and out while Hob gasped, squealed and orgasmed over and over like he just couldn't stop. If he looked down between his legs he could see the cum slopping in and out of his cunt, and every time he thought about how that cum could so easily knock him up, he felt himself clench tighter and squirt all over the alpha's knot. And Dream would tell him what a good boy he was being.

Now Hob lies in the middle of the bed while Dream tenderly changes the sheets around him, occasionally leaning in between Hob’s spread legs to kiss him pink, overworked hole. It's the first time, but it won't be the last. Hob definitely isn't going to walk away from this kind of pleasure.

And he should probably find a moment to mention that he's not on birth control. But from the way Dream kept pushing his cum back into Hob’s cunt and murmuring about keeping him full and bred, he thinks that the alpha probably won't mind...

[a-person-whos-alive]

Why TotK fails Zelda

Heads up, this is a long post. Ive cut this down like a motherfucker but it still reads very long. My thoughts are divided into four main categories;

1. Her relationship with her magic & tech

2. Her relationship with Hyrule

3. Her relationship with Link

4. Her relationship with the player

Also, these are my opinions, I'm certain there are people with far better analysis skills than me! I am just in love with this franchise and a little disappointed with the recent game. Zelda as a character holds a special place in my heart and its sad that her character was done dirty like this.

Theres a TLDR at the end and before I forget, SPOILERS!!!

1. Her relationship with her magic & tech

Zelda is not someone who magic came easily to, and I think BotW & AoC did a great job exploring that. They contrasted her natural interest with the sheikah technology and her lack of power and it was 😘👌

How did TotK do? With the Zonai tech being the main selling point, how would Zelda, a scholar at heart, interact with it? To my memory, the only interaction she has is to put Mineru's soul into a piece of Sheikah tech and hand it to a construct.

Well what about magic? Finding out she has light AND time powers was at first a great throwback to OoT with the Sage of Time. The fact that her Time magic awakened immediately unlike the Light magic in the last game was a nice contrast. But then, she immediately has a similar dilemma, she can't USE her magic to propel herself forward because she doesnt know how. Unlike BotW though, she has the "mother" she was lacking to teach her. This was a decent set-up. It was different enough to be its own thing but still was familiar enough. This is up to memory 4 - Mineru's Council

The issue the NEXT MEMORY, memory 5 - Gerudo Assualt shows her being even more proficient than Sonia. We don't see her train, or struggle, or even ask a question about how the stone works. She just does. It's not until memory 8 do we see her get any guidance about her powers? And even then we don't see her attempt recall at all. In the next memory she simply uses it perfectly and effortlessly.

The purpose of her strengthening Time Magic was to get back home. Yet, she gets back home by swallowing a sacred stone, that she already had the ability to do at any point. She turns into the LIGHT dragon, using her LIGHT magic to strengthen the Master Sword. Her whole arc about her magic was pointless because in the end she used the powers from the previous game for everything important.

2. Her relationship with Hyrule

Positives first! Its clear that Zelda loves her people, and during the 7? year gap she obviously took the time to connect with them and problem solve. Penn's quest really demonstrates this, and so does the Hateno school quest. (Even if the children don't believe in the Calamity). I found it very endearing that the people had such faith in her, that even with Ganondorf causing havoc with her face, people refused to believe it. The Great Fairies MUST have seen wrong because it was dark, Dorephan MUST have been mistaken, the Stable Trotters MUST have seen someone else - Zelda wouldn't do that.

I additionally liked that Zelda wasn't immediately trying to set up a monarchy again. In fact, she seemed to be doing the opposite. She wasn't living in Central Hyrule, at Looking Landing, she was living in Hateno. She was a teacher, and on some level a researcher (even if the Don Dons were scrapped ideas from the first trailer).

But the second she goes to the past, she is put back in her box. Her interests in tech are non-existant, she does not interact with anyone who isn't royalty, the King doesn't listen to her about Ganondorf and tells her to not to worry - after all she's just supposed to wear that white dress and hope her magic works soon. She's regressed back to before the Calamity, waiting for something terrible she knows is coming and is powerless to stop.

Crucially, she doesn't speak to Ganondorf once.

This is by far the most egregious waste of their characters in my opinion, and I've just deleted a 3 paragraph Ganondorf discussion - another time. But come on! This is legitimately the PERFECT scenario for Zelda to find about about WHY people opposed her royal family, WHY everyone she's ever loved died in Calamity caused by this guy, WHY she's had to go through all this. But no, if they did talk, it wasn't on screen.

Ive seen in translations of parts of one of the interviews with a developer saying she was able to see what a ruler should be like by going to the past, but until a see an official source I'm going to hope that's not true

3. Her relationship with Link

"Link is still entrusted with the role of protecting Princess Zelda." - Hidemaro Fujibayashi https://www.npr.org/2023/09/13/1199307678/zelda-tears-of-the-kingdom-dlc-video-game. Maybe I'll write a post about Link sometime, but I'm focusing on just him and Zelda.

Whether you ship the two or not, the pair would obviously have a unique bond from both fighting the Calamity and losing the Champions/everyone. So, how did the pair cope with the destruction of everything the love? How did Zelda come to terms with the ruins of Castle Town, the harsh reality of all those who were dead? Zelda doesn't have Link's amnesia to temporarily soften the inital blow.

TotK explores none of this.

Similarly, there is a level of formality on how Zelda speaks of Link. When she tells Rauru of Link she starts, "He is a royal knight. He had been originally appointed for my protection, but later he became a hero by saving both me and Hyrule from a great evil". Not "he and I became close" or even "he became my friend". Zelda is talking to the two people closest to her right now,

All their interactions are the bare minimum.

Link has ALWAYS been a self insert for the player, but he's still a character, and more recently Nintendo has been acting like having emotions means a player can't project onto them. Zelda is Link's closest person, and when she returns he is piece of cardboard, at least help her up!

4. Her relationship with the player

First, as everyone who played BotW will know, many things were removed or changed in TotK to allow it to be standalone for new players. Sheikah tech was removed, important characters forgot Link, the majority of the last game was rarely if ever mentioned. Kass

However TotK does not properly establish Link and Zelda for new fans AND doesnt not elaborate for old fans. They interact twice until the end - the intro and memory 1. All of her characterisation is in that little history moment, the rest of it is 50% sacred power lore and 50% time power lore. Additionlly, anyone who is new to the game has no context for her light powers.

Actually, TotK literally retcons her light magic to be from Rauru and not Hylia. Which was the WHOLE POINT of BotW so great sequelling there guys.

TLDR: The Conclusion

Wow, you made it this far. Or you skipped to end, I would too. My main gripes with Zelda:

> She doesn't interact with Zonai Tech.

> Her arc is about learning time power to go home, only for her to not use said magic and instead use the light magic from the last game to fix the sword and be a light dragon.

> Having her worries about Ganondorf shot down by the King and not holding her ground/ insisting (did you learn nothing from Rhoam??)

> never interacting with Ganondorf him being in Hyrule as a diplomat

> nintendos approach to her and link, they dont once touch while both conscious. Not even a handshake or pat on the shoulder. See images above with prev. Zelda and Link.

> the instance on making it not complicated for accessibility to new players, but also not fleshing it out enough to be compelling on its own.