#but normal guitars are hard enough to draw as it is
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Karlach doing hot girl shit
#bg3#bg3 band au#karlach#I actually think she'd play a gibson explorer#but normal guitars are hard enough to draw as it is#btw the nirvana tank ownership goes#wyll -> karlach -> Lae -> Shart#then its who ever gets their hands on it first#my art
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Wealthy omega Steve going on an arranged date each week to the same restaurant because his parents want him to find a mate.
Alpha Eddie who busks in the parking lot for tips and always offers him a cigarette and a shoulder to cry on after it doesn’t work out.
It takes them a while.
“Another one? That’s the third date this week, pretty boy. You going for a record or something?” Eddie asks, already holding his half-finished cigarette out for Steve to take.
He does. It’s his only reward for doing all of this.
Well, that and Eddie.
Eddie makes this easier.
Steve takes a long draw from it, craving the burn of nicotine more than he cares to admit to himself.
He craves Eddie’s company too, but that’s between him and the cigarette.
“Yeah, my parents are working overtime it seems. They’re bound and determined to have me mated off before spring.”
Steve laughs.
Eddie doesn’t.
“They sound awful.”
They are. Their insistence on old-fashioned values and treating their omega son like a burden to be rid of is proof enough.
“They mean well,” he says. “I think.”
Eddie hums thoughtfully. It’s clear that he disagrees.
Steve passes the cigarette back.
The alpha snubs it out on the sidewalk they’re sitting on instead.
“How long are you gonna keep doing this for?”
“Well, as long as it takes to find someone who’s interested, I guess. There’s not an exact timeline or any—”
Eddie startles Steve when he cuts him off with a growl.
He doesn’t look mad, but his forehead creases, deep frown, and sour scent speaks of irritation.
“Not what I meant.”
Oh.
“I don’t know, Eddie. They’re my parents… and it’s not like I’ve got anyone else knocking down my door.”
Even his dates aren’t interested once they’ve met him in person.
Steve always looks good on paper. He’s attractive and from an upstanding family, a decent investment at first glance.
But then he opens his mouth. That’s where their interest always ends.
Sometime between shaking hands and dessert, their eyes get bored and they start checking their watch more. They don’t bother to hide that they’re running out the clock, eager to be away from Steve.
He thought it would hurt less after a while, but it doesn’t.
“How many times are we gonna do this, Stevie?“
And now even Eddie is bored with him. It makes sense. They’ve been meeting up for months and Steve isn’t worth much for stimulating conversation.
It had to end eventually.
“I’m sorry. I— I didn’t realize I was bothering you. I can leave you to your gigging, man. Let me just—”
Steve reaches for his wallet, pulling out a thick wad of bills to shove in Eddie’s guitar case as an apology for taking up his precious time.
Compensation for the therapy.
“Hey, no— that’s not what I meant, baby. I just— ugh, why is this so hard to say?” Eddie groans, grabbing at his own hair in frustration.
Steve hasn’t the faintest idea what’s ailing Eddie. The guy is normally chill 100% of the time. It’s why Steve goes to him for comfort. He’s hard to shake.
“Sorry?” he tries.
“No, I’m sorry! I just can’t sit here for yet another evening and pretend like there are more fish in the sea for you or whatever,” Eddie explains frantically, his eyes begging Steve to understand.
Ouch. Okay. Point made.
Steve is unlovable, got it.
He stands, brushing off his slacks so his shaking hands aren’t as noticeable.
Keep cool. Breathe.
“Understood. I won’t bother you anymore then. I can park across the street next time too. Good luck with everything, Eddie. I’m sure your band will get signed soon, you’re a talented musician.”
Eddie shoots to his feet, almost tripping over his own lanky limbs in the process.
He grabs the sleeve of Steve’s dress shirt, stopping him from leaving.
“Don’t go on anymore dates.”
Jesus.
“Yeah, I got it the first time, thanks. I’m undesirable. Can you stop repeating it?”
Eddie looks like he’s been slapped, but he doesn’t say anything back. The bluntness must have caught him off guard.
Steve sighs, attempting to pull free from the alpha’s grip.
He almost manages it.
But then Eddie snaps back to reality and his eyes go wide for just a split moment before he kisses Steve right on the lips.
It’s unexpected to say the least.
It’s also probably the best kiss of his entire life. Too bad it’s from someone who just told him to quit dating because nobody will ever want to court him.
They finally break apart and Steve sways.
“Eddie… what in the actual hell are you—?”
“I love you! I love you— I’ve been in love with you for months, but you insist on going on all these dates with alphas who have no taste and they keep breaking your heart and leaving me to pick up the pieces, but I don’t want to keep handing them back. I want to keep you, Steve. I want to be the only alpha you go on dates with.”
Steve stops trying to run away.
Instead, he yanks at the collar of Eddie’s shirt, tugging him into another, longer kiss.
This is love, huh? Makes sense.
His lips are warm and so is his heart. Patched up once more and encased in a body other than his own
No more arranged dates.
“That was a ‘yes,’ in case it didn’t translate.”
Eddie’s face is flushed and his happy smile is infectious.
“I don’t have the kind of money your usual dates have, but I had this really cute guy way overtip me earlier. Can I buy you dinner, pretty boy?”
It’s the first of many.
#slick Sunday#steddie#steddie omegaverse#omega steve harrington#alpha eddie munson#steddie ficlet#omegaverse#a/b/o
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Author's Note: This fic is inspired by a conversation I had with @jakeyt and I am delighted to share some dom Jake with you all. The entire premise of this fic is all from @jakeyt 's beautiful mind so you all have her to thank for this. Sorry for any typos/mistakes
Warnings: rough sex, unprotected sex, p in v sex, pussy slapping (no I'm not ashamed) extreme edging, thoughts of using safe word. 18+ only MINORS DNI
Word Count: 4189
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He’s like a different person up there on stage. Gone is the stoicism. Gone is the quiet. Up there, he’s nothing less than a rock god – shredding on his guitar and dripping with talent and sex. He’s a master of his craft. And the thing is, he knows that he is. He knows what he’s doing – causing so many thousands of thighs to clench and hearts to race. And he gets off on it.
This was something that you discovered quickly after beginning your relationship with Jake. You’d always assumed that he was quiet – bashful even at times. But all that goes away the moment he steps foot in front of a crowd. Fleeting glances towards the big screen displaying his lewd movements and faces to thousands proves to you that he knows (and enjoys) what he’s doing.
You’d be a liar if you said you don’t enjoy it too. Seeing him so confident, so sure in his abilities and sex appeal, sets a fire between your legs like nothing else.
Tonight is a little different though. When normally before a show he’s touchy and excited – pressing eager kisses to your lips and eyes sparkling with excitement... tonight had been nothing but stony silence before he went out. You’d been arguing all day – something petty and childish that the both of you had blown way out of proportion, trading passive aggressive remarks and glances all day. You’re not even sure how it started at this point.
And now you could see first hand how all that frustration had built up inside of him. He’s acting feral up there and the crowd is going absolutely insane.
From your place on side stage, you can clearly see that he’s working himself up as he plays – something that he so often does. Tiny little shifts of his hips against the guitar… never enough to draw suspicion. But you know. You know him. And you know what his face looks like when he’s turned on.
There isn’t much longer left of the show and you can tell that he’s wound tight as a drum. His hair, once brushed and glossy, now lies stringy and messy the way it is after the two of you fuck. His face and chest are flushed and beads of sweat drip down his face onto his chest and stomach. He’s sweat completely through his jacket and fuck that just turns you on even more. He’s giving it all he’s got – leaving everything out on that stage.
Just as his second to last solo ends, his brows furrow and he glances back towards his tech. You squint your eyes, trying to see what’s the matter. He yells something to the tech but you can’t hear anything over Danny’s drums.
Finally you see what the problem is after he yanks his guitar strap over his head, a singular guitar string swinging helplessly beneath it. He snapped a string.
Unconsciously, your thighs squeeze together again. He’s going to be pissed. You can see it on his face already. And that means trouble for you… the most delicious type of trouble.
As if sensing your arousal, Jake’s eyes snap to you and track the movement. As his eyes pan upwards to meet yours, the look that he gives you is just nasty. Unbridled anger and lust all mixed together in a dangerous cocktail.
His tech brings him his number two in seconds and he looks away, able to carry on as if nothing happened – you doubt many in the crowd even noticed. But Jake is pissed. You can see it in his face and in the way he tears into the next song with reckless abandon.
And now, you can see that he’s hard in his pants. His thrusts into his guitar are more bold, sliding his length against the poor instrument. Anger, you’ve found, so often bleeds into desperate arousal for Jake. He’s always pent up after a show – getting off on the way he’s affecting his fans. But anger morphs into something damn near animalistic in your normally sweet boyfriend. And as much as you hate for things to go wrong for him, you can’t help the excitement thrumming through your body at the thought of what’s to come.
-⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️-
He meets you in the green room afterwards. He’s drenched in sweat and practically seething as he enters the room to find you waiting for him. His eyes pin you to the spot, rendering you unable to do anything but stand there and wait for him to tell you what he wants. Fear and lust swirl around inside you as you wait for him to speak.
He shifts on his feet, subtly adjusting himself in his pants.
“Go back to the hotel and wait for me.” His voice is low and cold – sharp as he directs you.
“W-what?” That takes you off guard. You’ve fucked in dressing rooms, green rooms, and bathrooms after shows. And when you do go back to your hotel room (which isn’t often as he can rarely wait that long) he goes with you. This is uncharted territory,
“I said,” he bites out venomously, “go back to the hotel and wait.”
You nod, ungluing your feet from the floor and slowly making your way to the door. His eyes follow you, not moving away from you once as you slide past him out into the hallway. He makes no move to follow you as you walk away and by the time you’ve left the venue and gotten in an Uber to take you back, confusion has replaced the need that you’d been feeling all day.
When you finally arrive, you trudge your way to the elevator and hit the button, thoughts anxiously racing as you try and wrack your brains to figure out what made him act so differently tonight. Shaking your head from your thoughts, you exit the elevator and walk to your door. You pull out your key card and step inside, immediately toeing off your shoes and tossing your purse and jacket onto your bedside table.
You’re not sure what to do. He’d given you no indication as to how long he’d be and you don’t want to piss him off any more than he already is. You strip from your clothes and change into nothing but an old t-shirt of Jake’s and slip under the covers, content to wait for his return.
Minutes turn into an hour.
That hour turns into two.
And two turns into two and a half and you're worried that he’s not going to come back at all. He’d been pent up, sure. But maybe he was angrier at you than you had thought. That plus his guitar string snapping probably had him alight with rage.
Sighing, you reach over and turn off the light and sink further into the covers, allowing your tiredness and defeat to pull you into sleep.
-⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️-
The lamp turning on drags you back into consciousness. You sit up, rubbing your eyes and mumbling out a confused noise as you try and figure out what’s going on.
As the spiderwebs leave your sleep-addled brain, you finally see Jake standing next to the bed. His suit is gone and he’s wearing nothing but tight black boxers. His face is angry and determined, looking down at you in thinly veiled frustration and lust.
“Jake?" You ask, sitting up further in the bed. “Where the fuck were you? I was worried!” You scold him, your own frustration bleeding into your tone.
“So worried you fell asleep?” He fires back in a snarky tone.
You roll your eyes and go to lay back down but he grabs your wrist and yanks you back upwards harshly.
“Jake!” You yell, taken aback by his roughness with you.
“That’s not my name tonight, angel.” He says darkly, eyes glittering in the dim lamplight. “Understand?”
“Yes sir.” You squeak out. You sweep your eyes downward and finally see what lays clenched in his other hand.
A guitar string.
Your eyes widen at the sight and your heart begins to pound. He notices the line of your gaze and smirks.
“My two most beloved things in the world decided to piss me the fuck off tonight.” He starts, releasing your wrist and delicately caressing your cheek with his fingertips. “Which means that I have to ask you a very important question.” He hedges, hooking your chin with his index finger and turning your face upwards towards him.
“What’s your question?” You ask in a tiny voice, afraid to push him any further than he already is.
“Do you remember your safe word, angel?”
“Gibson, sir.”
“Good girl. Take your shirt off.”
You concede, ripping the material over and off your head and tossing it somewhere in the room.
Jake takes another step towards the bed and grabs your wrists, effortlessly manhandling them so that your arms are above your head.
“Hold still.” He tells you, and you obediently keep your arms where he put them as he pulls his hand away.
Taking the guitar string, Jake loops it around both your wrists in a figure eight, cinching the cord tightly so that your wrists are pressed together.
“Too tight?”
You shake your head, slick beginning to flood between your thighs at the feeling of being bound. Jake loops the other end of the string around the headboard and pulls, causing the muscles in your arms to extend completely as he ties the string. He takes a step back to survey his work. The sight of you, arms completely extended and bound above your head, draws a groan from between his plush lips.
“I’ve got one rule for you tonight, angel.” He says, walking around the bed and making his way to his suitcase. He unzips it and begins rifling through his things. “You don’t get to cum until I say. If I decide that you’ve earned it.”
You nod again and watch as he finds what he’s looking for. The quietest of gasps escapes you as he holds up his prize. He clicks the button and your vibrator hums to life. You thought you’d concealed it from him. The last time you’d come along on tour with him, he’d taken a particular liking to teasing you with it, and you’d hidden it in the hopes that he’d forget about it. Clearly, you’d been very mistaken.
“Thought you hid this from me didn’t you?” He asks, stalking back towards the bed like a lion seeking out its prey. You squirm, anticipation filling you.
“How did-”
“Did I find it?” He interrupts, crawling into the bed and settling himself between your legs. “You seem to forget..” He slides the vibrating toy up your inner thigh, building up the tension within you. “I know you too well, sweet girl. And I’m not letting you get off that easily.”
Without warning, he presses the toy onto your throbbing clit and the sudden sensation has you arching up off the bed and moaning loudly.
“Fuck!” You cry, eyes screwing shut at the overwhelming sensation.
Mercilessly, Jake begins to circle your clit with the vibrator, pressing into your bundle of nerves with relentless focus and attention.
“All fucking day you’ve been testing my patience.” His voice is low – almost a growl, as he speaks to you. “It’s like you enjoy pushing my buttons any chance you get.”
“You were being dramatic.” You manage to say between moans, and Jake’s eyes blaze with anger as he presses the toy harder into your clit.
“That’s how you wanna play, angel?”
You don’t answer, overwhelmed by the white hot pleasure coursing through you.
“Answer.” He tells you, circling the toy faster.
You can’t. The feeling of the vibrations on your clit as he circles the toy is too much for your body to handle and any coherent thoughts have long since flown out the window. You open your mouth – to answer his question or to tell him that you’re close, you’re not sure. But as soon as you open your mouth to speak, a loud high-pitched cry escapes you instead. You’re on the edge, so so close to falling over. You need it… badly. You’ve been wanting it all day. Deciding to test your luck, you stay silent as you reach the crest of orgasm.
Crack
The sting between your legs makes a loud, pornographic moan bubble up from your throat as Jake slaps his palm against your throbbing cunt. He didn’t slap you overly hard, but hard enough to leave you dazed. You stare at him, mouth hung open in shock.
“You think I can’t tell when you’re about to cum?” Jake’s voice is ice cold and dangerous, causing you to gulp as he glares at you. “Remember, angel: I know you. And I told you not to cum without me telling you to.”
“I’m sorry, sir.” You say meekly. And you are. The look in his eye is damn near sinister.
“Not good enough.” He says, tossing the toy to the side.
You can tell by the look on his face and the sound of his voice that you’ve really fucked up now, and you’re quick to try and remedy the situation.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Jake.” The apologies spew from your lips like prayers and you barely even register what you’re saying – your second mistake of the night.
“Strike two.”
Crack
This time, the blow is a little harder, causing tears to prick the corners of your eyes.
“That’s not my name tonight, as I already told you earlier.” He shakes his head, and you could cry at the disappointment covering his face. Directing his attention downwards, Jake eyes the mess between your thighs. “You like this, don’t you? When I treat you like the little whore that you are?”
“Yes sir, I do.” You whine, wriggling your hips in the hopes that it will entice him to give you what you want.
“Look at you.” He swipes the pad of his finger through your dripping folds, humming appreciatively. “Your pussy is dripping.”
“It’s all for you, sir.” You pant, shoulders beginning to ache after being suspended for so long.
“You’re my little whore, aren’t you?”
You nod your head vigorously.
“I wanna spoil this pretty pink pussy so badly.” He says with sadness, as if he really is disheartened that he has to punish you. “But you’ve been such a terrible girl all day long, haven’t you?”
You don’t glorify him with an answer as one of his long, talented fingers finally enters you. He curls it upwards, brushing your g-spot and making you moan loudly.
“You’re squeezing my fingers so tightly.” He tells you, adding another finger and curling it along with the other.
You moan louder as he picks up his pace, fucking you with his fingers in the way that only he can. It’s like liquid fire is coursing through your veins – your entire world shrinking down to nothing but him and his fingers. His thumb presses into your clit and begins to rub tight circles, thrusting your body quickly back to the edge.
“Sir...” You pant breathlessly, “I’m close.”
“Already?” The smugness in his voice is obvious and the smile that graces his lips is cocky. He’s an arrogant little shit when it comes to how good he is with his fingers.
“Such a shame.” He adds nonchalantly, pulling his fingers from you and wiping them on the sheets.
You toss your head back and uselessly tug on your restraints. You’re wound so tight you feel like you could explode.
“You’re shaking. Something wrong?” Jake asks, grinning from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Jake- sir, please.”
“Almost.” He says, shrugging his shoulders. “But not quite yet.”
Without warning, Jake thrusts his fingers back into you, curling them deliciously and brushing your sweet spot with each movement. He’s watching your face, studying the way your expressions shift and contort with each movement of his fingers. The wet sounds accompanying each movement are almost comically pornographic, but you’re far too gone to really notice.
Without letting up with his fingers, Jake lowers his body down so that he’s resting his torso on the mattress between your legs. As soon as his hips touch the bed, he lets out a groan – no doubt enjoying the pressure on his cock. He’s edging himself too, you realize. Jake gets off on watching you, and you’re giving him the show of a lifetime with the way you’re moaning and crying with reckless abandon.
Jake leans in and wraps his lips around your throbbing clit, suckling and swirling his tongue as his fingers continue to fuck into you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You wail, jerking your bound wrists and thrashing your head from side to side.
He hums a laugh into your heat and the vibration is almost too much.
“Fuck, stop! Please stop. I can’t!”
Once again, Jake pulls away and allows you a moment to catch your breath.
“Had enough yet?” Jake asks with a shit eating grin. “That’s how many orgasms that you haven’t gotten to have?”
“Three, sir.” Your voice is coarse and shaky, strained from the moans that he’s been pulling from you. You’re sweaty and exhausted, and the desperation and need to cum is reaching the point of being unbearable.
“That’s right. Three orgasms that you could have had if you hadn’t been so terrible today. The first one,” he mutters while picking up the vibrator again, “was for our argument earlier. The second,” he clicks the button and the toy whirs to life again, “for your snarky little comments you’ve been throwing at me all day.” The toy hovers dangerously close to your clit, just barely not touching and you fight to hold still as your body wants to recoil from the inevitable overwhelming sensation. “Do you know what the third one is for?”
You shake your head, focus still glued to how close the vibrator is to your swollen, abused clit.
“No.”
“You sure?” Jake asks, finally pressing the toy into you.
You let out an agonized scream at the feeling. You’ve been on edge so long and the pleasure from earlier has morphed into a red hot need – dangerously close to bleeding into more pain than pleasure.
“Your guitar string snapping?” You can barely get your mouth to form the words and you’re quickly nearing a threshold of desperation that you’ve never entered before.
“Nope.” He says, popping the ‘p’ as he says the word.
“Fuck I don’t know! I don’t know!” You yell, clenching your teeth as your legs begin to shake.
“Yes you do. Think back. And remember,” he presses the toy even harder and you’re beginning to debate whether or not you need to use your safeword. “I. Know. You.”
You need to cum so badly and real tears are starting to stream down your face. It’s too much and not enough and the room is starting to turn black around the edges as you finally concede, the confession slipping past your lips in a broken, tiny little voice.
“I made you mad on purpose.”
Immediately, he brings the toy away from your cunt and clicks it off.
“I know, angel.” He says, placing the toy on the mattress next to you and rubbing his palms up your thighs. “But I want to hear you say it again.”
“I made you mad on purpose.” You repeat, body thrumming with pent up lust and adrenalin.
“Why did you piss me off on purpose, baby?” He asks, voice saccharine and deceivingly soft.
“Because you’re so-” You cut yourself off, cheeks flaming with embarrassment.
“Tell me.” He demands, digging his fingers into the plush skin of your thigh.
“Because you’re sexy when you’re mad. And I wanted you to fuck me.” You finally spit out, shame flooding your body as you finally admit to having started this whole thing for the sake of getting a good fuck. It’s childish. You know it is. But sometimes the itch becomes so unbearable that you have to try and get it satisfied somehow. And making Jake angry is the quickest way to get what you want.
Sensing your shift in mood, Jake smooths his palms over your thighs again, gently tracing circles into your skin with his calloused fingertips.
“You know you can just ask, baby. You don’t have to piss me off to get it hard like this.”
Emboldened by his comforting words, you give him the brattiest little smirk that you can muster.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
And just like, he slips back into his role.
“What am I gonna do with you, angel?” He asks, reaching up to untie the guitar string from your wrists and the headboard. “Get on your fucking knees.”
You scramble to comply, rising as quickly as you can despite your body’s protests, and settle onto your knees
“Hands behind your back.” He demands.
You whine at his request but do it anyway.
“Wanna touch you.” The sentence sounds desperate and needy as it leaves your mouth, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You need to cum. More than you ever had before and at this point you’ll do anything to get it.
“Too bad.” He says, binding your wrists again so that they’re stuck behind your back.
Jake yanks his boxers down and you can’t help but to stare as you finally get to see his cock for the first time tonight. He looks so hard – the skin red and shiny, and his tip glistens with precum.
“You cum after me, understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
He presses his palm into the middle of your back and pushes, effectively knocking you face first into the mattress. He grips your hips and yanks upwards, pressing your face farther into the mattress while your ass sticks up in the air.
Finally, he sinks his length into you all the way to the hilt and the both of you moan loudly at the feeling.
“Fuck, you feel good.” He groans as he uses both hands to grip your ass in a bruising hold.
Immediately, he’s slamming into you with so much force it’s all you can do to just lay there and take it. His groans are rough and deep and his hips slam into your thighs hard. Using his grip on you, he pulls your hips back to meet his thrusts, and the feeling is so overwhelmingly good and your mind is fogged over with your need for him.
This was what you wanted. The pleasure that only he can give you. No man has ever been able to make you feel the way Jake makes you feel and you’re desperate for him all the damn time.
With each pound of his hips, you let out a moan – so high-pitched and loud that you’d probably be embarrassed if you weren’t so lost to the pleasure.
“Jake…” You warn, your long awaited orgasm barrelling towards you at the speed of fucking sound.
“I know, angel. I’m so close. Fuck.” He lets go of your hip with one hand and reaches around in front of you to rub frenzied circles against your clit.
“Oh fuck. I’m so close. Please.” His voice is wrecked, breathless and broken as he falls apart. His pace hasn’t slowed, his stamina allowing him to keep slamming into you at a speed that’s making your head spin. The sound of his pleading – the neediness of it, has you so close to cumming you can taste it. His dominant side has completely bled away – just as it always does when he’s about to cum.
“Do it, angel. Give it to me. Oh fuck!”
You can’t stop it now. Your orgasm slams into you like a freight train – stealing the breath from your lungs as you completely fall apart. Distantly, you can hear his own sounds of release and you can feel him spill into you but it doesn’t register. It feels like it goes on for hours – wave upon wave of pleasure washing over you and drowning you in the feeling of release that you’d been denied for so long.
Like you’re watching it happen to someone else, you become aware of Jake delicately untying your hands and rubbing where your skin had become raw.
He turns you over onto your back before collapsing onto you – allowing his body weight to settle on top of you.
“Fuck.” He breathes into your ear, chest heaving and heart pounding.
“Mmmm.” You hum, closing your eyes and trying to come back to earth.
“You okay?” He asks, swiping his sweaty hair from his face.
You just hum at first, giving him as much of a smile as you can muster.
“Fuck yeah.” You finally answer after your brain clears from the fog a little bit.
“You’re a mess.” He says with a giggle, taking in your fucked out expression and glassy eyess. He literally fucked you stupid.
“You still love me, though.”
“Yeah I do, angel.”
------
if you're reading this, I love you! 💗
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Headcanon: Holiday Gifts for Keanu's characters.
𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁 ス ˚ ₊ ‧꒰ ꒱ ‧ ₊˚
ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑔𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑘𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠:
𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑎𝑛
the *stoner accent* murst happy cheery boy on xmas!
he loves, LOVES gifts
christmas is one of his most favourite holidays, or in fact, IS his favourite holiday; halloween just being a close second
not just cause of the food
or the snow
the bodacious music or jolly vibes
or the free school holidays so he won't need to do stupid bogus history homework
but because of the presents!
ted would absolutely love if you gifted him something for christmas
it doesn't have to be elaborate or big, but something that a neurodivergent (/j) rock-enthusiast weird kid like him would like
custom guitar picks, comic books, a bucket of tutti-fruity bubblegum & cheese puffs, cute little stickers, fruit-flavoured candy (not too much though as they hurt his teefies), a nintendo gameboy, drawing books....
he'd also like makeup, like black eyeliner & eyeshadow and a couple of nail polish so him and bill can use for their wyld stallyns performances
gift him some eddie van halen posters, cds, keyrings, trinkets, or any of that paranphelia and he'll worship you for life
oh yeah, he don't play around with his eddie van halen
less you forget that
he'll also love tapes and cds and merch of other rock bands he adores
RUBIX CUBE! he'll love a mean rubix cube as his personal fidget toy 🥺
ted's very easy to please, just don't buy him an air supply or beatles vinyl album
𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒
antithesis of ted
this man is the grunge adaptation of scrooge, but with less hate and more indifference
doesn't really care about xmas
mostly thinks it's for kids
giving gifts to this guy will be a little bit hard because this man is such a depressed little nihilist sometimes
he'll scoff and bluff, but deep down his emotions speaks otherwise
he never really states what he like or anything personal about him - he's a very private man with only one thing on his mind (lyke idk saving the world from satan and the apocalypse ???)
but what you do know about him is that this man is a chronic smoker
john would definitely fw a silver plated lighter
like the vivienne westwood ones
or a custom black one with his initials on it
he also drinks a lot of whiskey
jack daniel's? jim beam bourbon? jameson?
pair that up with a leather hip flask and he's good to go
silver jewellery type of guy? mhm!
he'd love a cross chain necklace
like deep-silver cross/crucifix pendant ones
would look so fucking cool on him
silver accessories always look so hot on daddy constantine
other than that, nothing much
he's not invested in xmas but he doesn't hate it
his mind will be more occupied on demon hunting and existential brainrots than that
yet he still has a soft spot (secretly) so xmas with him won't be so bleeping bad
𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑐𝑘
pretty normal about xmas
celebrating with him would be so freaking wholesome though
you're so used to seeing john as his stoic dilf self that him being all lovely with you during this jolly season would be a fever dream
giving him gifts would be, again, pretty normal
he's a simple guy, and already rich enough to buy himself whatever, after all, so your xmas shopping spend will be looking pretty alright
john is a traditional manly man so his gifts would be of that orient
he's also a bit old so keep that in mind...
brown leather-strapped watch, woody oak cologne, men's grooming set, a brand new dog that won't randomly disappear after a few months
john is a bookworm, he'd love some good ol' classic fiction novels and philosophical/critical/mindfuck books to open up and out his mind
he's a handy man so a brand-new toolbox would be nice
he's also a lover of whiskey and wine, so again, some jack daniel's or bourbon and malboc or pinot noir
this would be the funniest shit ever but please gift this man a pencil as a joke
i swear he'll be so oblivious at first but when he clocks, this mf will death stare you like hell whilst you try so hard to not burst into laughter
but on a wholesome note, a ring will put a smile right back onto that man's face
like cute couple rings you and him can wear, like he'll smile so hard
a heart locket necklace with a picture of you and him inside
oh he'll absolutely die inside
john's such a sucker for classic romance, you don't understand
he'll love vinyl records of 70s and 80s vintage classics, taking him back to his younger days
john will cherish these well... 💌
𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛𝑛𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑
the very antithesis of ted
this man is scrooge
does not not care about xmas and probably never will
"mindless fucking consumerism"
he definitely thinks that shit is for kids
gifts for this guy will be as hard as an harvard acceptance letter
90% of the time this man is never really happy
he's either miserable or annoying or insulting or all at the same time
he would, however, accept it, if it's from you
but johnny never tells personal information
he's a very egotistical individual so the most personal you'll get from him is the edge of how big his c*ck is (*facepalms.png*)
𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑎
another happy cheery boy on xmas
and another favourite himbo of mine 💘
he obviously loves xmas
it's the only time he won't have to be digging under trash heaps for diamonds
he's a very weird and random kid so you know he'll like anything
finding a xmas present for him would be easy cause as long as the shit's entertaining, he's pretty much on board
and it's the 80s, so what really can a broke teenage runaway enjoy back then?
but anyways, that's whatever
rupert would definitely like these as gifts: comic books, candy, shakespeare novels, an eight ball, rubix cube, wristbands, money, a crown (???)-
SLIME! give the boy some green slime to play with! (helps with his stims)
*murmuring* why can i imagine him in a skir- yeah give this boy a skirt
and a skateboard
gnarly combination
𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑐𝑜/𝑗𝑢𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑛 𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑟
basic as fuck
these dudes are like the hallmarks of xmas
both are different genres of white men in hallmark-esque movies
standard white guy, 30-something year old millennial who's into sports and having a beer with the boys vs twink stock image standard white man who's a doctor and every old karen white woman's dream come true
one, however, is more generic and conventionally attractive hallmark white male than the other (julian)
shane's a manly man so he'd probably like some fishing equipment or men's grooming kit or some kind of sports team merch
he'd also like those beer keg stands or mini fridges where he can put his infinite supply of heineken or guiness inside
a handy man also so a nice new toolbox too
julian...... yeah julian i don't actually know about
he's probably just bisexual or something, idk-
that's about it.
#𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑠𝑣𝑜𝑥𝑥𝑦𝑥𝑦#headcanon#keanu reeves#xmas#ted logan#ted theodore logan#john wick#john constantine#shane falco#rupert marshetta#julian mercer#johnny silverhand#*#x reader
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Sooooooo, obvious Pizza Tower spoilers for the final boss and stuff.
I finished Pizza Tower the other day. The game was already plenty good using anxiety and anger as a vehicle for Peppino's motivation and the situation he's been placed in. It's not just his animation, where left idle, he will nervously gesture (teeth-clattering, biting his hand, etc.); it's also the music which draws the line between smooth techno backdrops to FRANTIC FRANTIC FRANTIC, the fact that everything is literally out to get him, and the brilliant escape sequences per level that forces Peppino to haul ass or he'll DIE.
Normally, I can't stand games where you're forced to escape with a timer, but Pizza Tower feels so appropriate because it's suppose to be anxious and heart-pounding. It also helps that the game has such tight, well-defined controls. Peppino is fast, so you get a sense of speed that helps defy the clock when you're on the move, but he can also stop on a dime, so you never feel hindered from what could be a costly mistake if Peppino was a bit more loose. Not to mention the timer is often generous. Once I got a groove on the game's control schemes, the time you had to get the heck out felt marginal enough while juuuuuust a tad left over that it still left you feeling wrecked, but never frustrating.
All of this is a great, great tool to teach you for the upcoming final boss and oh my god, OH MY GOD, so rarely do I feel anything could get me pumped up as Pizza Tower does with Pizzaface.
The whole ass fight is a great demonstration of what happens when you push a man to his limits. We've seen Peppino mad, but never has he been filled with SO MUCH WRATH until now. By the time Pizzaface (quickly revealed to be Pizzahead) started bringing in the other bosses for a rush, it felt so justified when Peppino started SCREAMING with rage. He's had it, this is the fucking straw. This motherfucker and his minions had fucked with him for the
LAST.
GODDAMN.
TIME.
I tend to dread boss rushes (it depends), but Pizza Tower knows it. It knows because Peppino was also dreading it. No, none of this bullshit. No more. He's DONE. Other than each of the main four being truncated to a manageable level, Peppino straight up BEATS THE CRAP OUT OF THEM when he physically contacts them. FUCK THIS SHIT, FUCK EVERYTHING, he's probably thinking.
Then he proceeds to CREAM the fuck out of Pizzahead.
Pizzahead, who had the audacity to mess with his restaurant; Pizzahead, who sent wave after wave of enemies to stop this pissed off Italian; Pizzahead, who dares to put on a smile and pull off silly little pranks and other misfits during the boss fight because he's NOT taking Peppino seriously, a mistake he's paid for with several broken (cheese???) bones.
And a lot of this wouldn't have worked if the music didn't go hard. But they went hard. I'm gonna upload a Youtube link where someone compiled all three songs into one, because it just feels like the kind you have to listen to back-to-back.
youtube
This is like right up there with Final Fantasy VI's final bosses, where it had four major phases, each with their own songs, but you had to listen to all sixteen minutes of it because it just wouldn't feel right otherwise.
"Unexpectancy" is in the same boat.
The guitar riff, the rise in tension, the goddamn sampling of an old 1920s public domain song, "After You Get What You Want, You Don't Want It" by Van & Schenck (which seem appropriate given the lyrics talk about someone who can never be satisfied even after getting everything they want) - the whole ass thing is so. Damn. EPIC.
And after the final fight, you have to get the hell out of the tower before it crumbles. Not just one level's worth, but the WHOLE ASS tower. Everything you've learned and hopefully mastered by this point will be tested as Peppino dashes like Sonic on drugs.
And it's so cool because you can pick up both your friends and the bosses (who, I guess, learned their lesson or something) to get the hell out (I guess the pig citizens are dead now cuz' they don't count.)
Like by the time you're outta there, you feel an IMMENSE sense of relief and satisfaction. Peppino won. YOU won. He can rest now and save his restaurant from debt (and maybe take his amlodipine while he's at it.)
Maybe because I'm so prone to anxiety myself, Pizza Tower - this silly little game - somehow ended up being not only relatable, but absolutely CATHARTIC.
It left me feeling so good by the time I finished. That a man like Peppino, where everything feels like it's out to get him (which, fair, they are), still decided that he's not going to put up with this bullshit, so he goes out and FIGHTS.
I don't think I have the strength to get all P-ranks in this game, but I'm so glad I played Pizza Tower. It was an incredibly fun, satisfying, validating experience.
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(Alt PoV to the final scene of For All Our Sins, A Saviour. Written mostly aaaages ago, then I didn't like it, but now it's been long enough I go 'no actually this does have redeeming features'. As my hands are too bad to write what I want to today, I've just spruced this up a bit for your enjoyment. No longer even close to canon, the original was written while Forever was in the Nether. I like alt PoVs, but they're hard. Another Brazilian probably would have been a better match for Forever, but... Well, deathfam and Wilbur times were apparently on my brain whenever I started this.)
It is not at all a normal day for Philza, but it is a peaceful one. It is not normal because not only is Wilbur returned from his tour, but Missa has also managed to get just enough time away from work to stop by. Missa cooks and Wilbur anxiously fiddles with his guitar, and Philza perches on a crate of potatoes as he explains recent happenings. On the island. There's not a lot to say, not nearly as much as he would like, but he does his best.
He is just getting to the end of explaining the MiniMes when his communicator pings.
A second later, Missa's does to.
They both look down, and Philza finds a private message from Bad, of all possible suspects.
BadBoyHalo whispers to you: Get to the Nether Portal. Bring Missa.
Philza does not even need to think; there are only so many reasons Bad would call him there, of all places. He slams down a red sharestone, and catches Missa's eyes.
"Chayanne?" Missa whispers.
"There should be a sharestone for it," he says, not brave enough to follow Missa's thought. "If... Let's just go. Wilbur? We'll be bakc in a bit."
He does not wait for a reply; he activates the sharestone, and lets himself be pulled away.
---
The first thing Philza sees upon arriving in the Nether Portal room is Chayanne - his egg, his son, his chick - clinging to Bad's legs as he shakes.
The second thing Philza sees is the blood and bruises all over his son, the burns on his feet and the surpressed terror in his eyes.
The third thing Philza sees is the zombie piglin wandering from the portal, and making its way towards his child.
He does not even think; he draws his scythe and throws himself at the piglin, slicing it through and keeping it away from his child.
When he turns again, Bad is at his side - scythe also drawn - while Missa has picked up Chayanne. Both are sobbing, even as Missa rocks them gently.
And then there is Wilbur, who followed them as he always would.
"Chayanne?" Wilbur whispers. "But where's-?"
He cuts himself off, sounding of heartbreak.
Chayanne wriggles around, just enough to place a sign. 'Portal is unstable. I was the test. The others will come soon.'
It's short, it's sharp, Chayanne finishes the words and hides himself fully in Missa's clothes.
Soft Spanish can be heard from Missa as he tries to comfort the egg.
"Dapper?" Bad whispers, just as quiet. "Pomme? Dapper? Where are you?"
Philza glares at the portal a moment - sees nothing else coming, which only has his heart twist - before moving over to his partner and son.
"You are so brave," he whispers to Chayanne. "Dad's proud of you, I'm so proud of you. Don't worry, Papa will look after you, and Dad will protect you both, okay?"
Bad slices down another zombie piglin behind them, texting away on his communicator as he does - surely summoning the other parents. The movement causes Philza to twist, looking for the danger, but somehow he manages not to fall. The portal seems... unstable, the pattern of swirls glitching and shifting and changing as it tries to settle on a single point of connection. Where-ever Chayanne came from... He doesn't want to think about that.
Philza turns back to his egg, hugging him even as he's tucked in Missa's arms, giving him toast and a potion and a totem of undying, because Chayanne is hurting and dirty and scared and Philza wants nothing more than to have his child safe and looked after.
The toast is eaten so fast; Philza gives him more, because how else does he express his fear and his love? How else does he show just how much his heart is hurting, if not forcing his protection and resources upon him?
"It's okay," Missa switches to English for a moment, looking at Philza. "I have him. He's here."
Philza reaches around Chayanne, trapping him in the middle as he hugs Missa. Trust Missa to work it out, for all their communication failures in the past. Missa, blessed Missa, where would he be without him?
The sharestone and the portal both whirl again, in synch this time, and Philza hears at least three people yell "Pomme!"
Bad will have everything in hand, but Philza still turns, watching as Bad scoops her up, steps towards the sharestone, and is caught by Baghera as he slips to his knees. Etoiles is there too; they share a look, and Philza nods. He turns back to his egg.
"I need to protect the others," Philza says to his son, glancing to his husband in between words. "Papa Missa has you though, okay? I'll be right here, I'm just guarding the portal so nothing can hurt you - or anyone. You'll be able to see me the whole time."
It's wrong, so wrong, to see his brave warrior so terrified. But Chayanne still takes a deep breath, and nods, and turns his head to watch as Pomme parents fuss over her. Checking on his sibling, even as he's terrified himself.
Philza takes Bad's place in front of the portal, scythe in one hand, potions in the other, and waits for whatever comes next. Bad takes the opportunity to run over to his daughter, joining the French in the huddle around her. Behind him he hears more people arrive - Tubbo and Pac and Fit, Foolish, Cellbit and Roier and at that point he stops paying attention because there are more enemies to deal with.
He hears Wilbur demand to know what is going on, and leaves it in the hands of someone else to explain.
Zombie piglins are not /really/ a threat, except for the fact everyone is distracted and their children are hurt, and he doesn't really want to think about one of the horrors catching sight of an injured child - of easy prey.
Wilbur slips in beside Philza, hands nervously twisting before pulling out an axe.
No winning on someone else explaining, then; Philza wouldn't usually mind, but he's busy, and there's only so much thought he can spare.
"Will she be okay?" Wilbur asks, voice quieter and more shaky than it should ever be.
"She has to be," Philza replies, voice a little cold but his concentration split too many ways to comfort his son. "And once she's home and safe and feeling better, we'll kill everything that dared touch her."
He misses Wilbur's reply as a golden carrot is fired at a newly emerged, baby zombie piglin.
Philza is about to tell Wilbur to step back - that he and Fit have this, go ask Missa if he has questions - when the portal shifts again. The pattern... Philza's isn't sure, but it seems as though the swirls have shifted to another direction. It found somewhere to link to, if only for a few moments.
A second later not one but three eggs stumble out of the portal. Ramon has his eyes screwed shut, clinging to Leo's hand. Leo's other arm is supporting Dapper, who is struggling to stand. Philza does not take more than a moment to consider - he calls for Bad and Foolish, just in case they somehow missed this, and moves forwards. A splash potion in the middle, and then an extra right over Dapper. The poor eggs need it - they need a lot more than just potions, but it's a start.
Fit shoves his way past, opening up his arms and calling to Ramon. It takes a second for the boy to open his eyes, but as soon as he does he flings himself into Fit's arms.
Fit then steps back, making room for Foolish and Bad rushing in. Foolish laughs as he hoists Leo up and onto his shoulders, but he clings to little legs like the world might shatter if he ever lets go. Bad, meanwhile, is distraught; he scoops Dapper up and hides him away, then runs off to hide among the French.
Philza doesn't blame him; Dapper looked... All of the eggs have been hurt, but none of the others were struggling to stay on their feet. Philza clings the potions tighter; maybe something has caught up to them, maybe something is attack, maybe-
Wilbur steals the potion from Philza's hand.
"For Tallulah," he says. "In case she..."
"She'll be okay," Philza makes a promise he cannot keep. "If Forever's with them, he'll be protecting her from whatever is chasing them."
"He is," Fit calls across, sat a little way down the walkway, Ramon in his lap and Pac pacing at his side. "Ramon said Forever found them, and is the one who keeps forcing the portal."
It's a relief Philza did not know he needed to hear Forever is somewhere, on his feet, and even better with the eggs.
"Thanks mate," he grins back. "If anyone's injured, can someone let me know?"
"Pomme says Forever is," Baghera offers. "Badly. And that... Um... Sorry, English. Richarlyson needs a new leg and Tallulah's lungs hurt?"
Wilbur /whines/ beside Philza, and Philza cannot blame him. He reaches out, and squeezes his eldest's shoulder.
He can only do so for a moment, though; nearly as soon as he does, the last two children make it through the portal.
A giant blue beetle accompanies them. Warped mosco. One of /those fuckers/. Philza swears, stepping in to block it, while Wilbur moves forward. Philza is almost surprised that Wilbur picks up both eggs before running out of range of the mob.
Thankfully, it is only the one; Etoiles jumps up from the French huddle to help him, and together they cut it down.
Exhausted, Philza turns, and checks on his family. Missa and Wilbur stand close enough that Tallulah and Chayanne can hold hands, both cuddling their respective child close and wary of the danger.
It seems Richarlyson had been handed to Pac, as the boy is animatedly explaining something to his Pai. Cellbit and Roier, having been on the lower floor with the French, Bad, and Foolish, start heading up to the walkway. Now he looks, he can see Bagi and Felps too.
Right. All of the kids are accounted for. Philza should... He wants to back off, to scoop his partner and his eggs up and hide them away at uppies, or maybe even further out... He does have other warps - maybe they'd like that skeleton temple, it'd not take too long to drain a room to hide in... Throw a shitty house around them, make something better in the morning.
He doesn't, though, instead he flags down Cellbit.
"Pomme and Ramon said Forever is still there."
Cellbit looks at Richarlyson, then back at Philza. There's an exhausted curse, but Cellbit and Roier take out their weapons.
Felps and Bagi are a little slower on the take up, but pause too. Philza sees Pac start to get up, offering Richarlyson to Fit, but Cellbit waves for him to stay down.
"He'll come through soon?"
"You saw the bastard flying mob, right?" Philza asks. "He might... Pomme said he was already hurt."
He's almost surprised that Cellbit missed that, but then with all of the reunitings going on, maybe its not so surprising.
Cellbit runs a hand through his hair, tongue flicking for a second, "we give him five minutes. It's not like we can calibrate it from this side anyway - we tried."
"Right," Philza is glad someone else took the planning, even if he feels a little terrible to put even more on Cellbit's head. He hands a few potions to the Brazilians - Etoiles is still on standby, but very definitely has his own - just in case.
And then they wait. Nothing that comes through is especially dangerous, the portal having shifted back to its original configuration.
One minute, two, Foolish asking why nobody has gone home yet...
The portal shifts again. Philza readies his scythe, and the others too.
It takes a moment, but what comes first is Forever. Unlike the eggs he does not even make it off of the obsidian before he is falling. Philza reaches out to catch him, but Felps is already there, pulling an arm over his shoulder and taking his weight.
The Brazilians run to their fellow. Philza almost goes with, but more comes through the portal; he and Etoiles leap into action, cutting the enemies down. There's zombie piglins and warped moscos and things Philza does not even stop to identify as he makes quick work of cutting them down
There's some commotion, and the Brazilians do not pull away. Instead they huddle, and it makes Philza's job much harder as he tries both not to trip over them and to protect them. When he catches a moment he lets Etoiles cover him, and takes his pick to the obsidian.
It's obsidian, it always takes a while to break, but in that moment this one seems to take forever.
Eventually he manages it. The portal shatters, and he breathes a sigh of relief before diving back into the fight.
Once it is safe, Etoiles disappears back to his own huddle, while Missa, Wilbur, and Philza's eggs approach. Chayanne is squirming like he wants down and to walk, but Philza can see the burns on his feet. He and Missa share a look, and their son is hugged a little more tightly.
"You alright?" Missa asks, head tilting.
"Just tired," he reassures. "There were never too many, all these people just get to me a bit."
"Yeah, yeah, I-"
Whatever Missa was about to say is cut off by Cellbit screaming in... fear? frustration? Philza has no idea, but it has him quickly turn to the huddle.
What he sees is Forever unconscious, blood in his hair, blood all over the floor, and his heart drops.
There's not a lot he can do, however; he turns back to his family.
"We left the rice cooking; do you four want to head home?" he hesitates a moment.
Chayanne reaches for him, and Philza's heart breaks, "I'll be back really soon, I just want to make sure your tio Forever is okay, and make sure all your siblings get home safe."
Nobody likes the answer, but Missa nods, and he is the one holding Chayanne. Philza hugs both of his eggs, and gives them more toast, and nudges his family on their way.
Then there is just... Everyone else.
Forever and the Brazilians need space, and so Philza gently starts herding people home. Bad is easy - just suggest taking Dapper somewhere safer - while Baghera hesitates for the same reason as Philza. Foolish and Leo and Vegetta excused themselves as soon as someone else left, and the non-parents drift away after them.
Baghera is convinced to leave by Pomme, who wants to go to the caste. She makes Philza promise to update her - he has every intention to do so.
He checks the room, and the portal, before heading over to the remaining group. Forever is still out, and Philza's heart drops somehow further still.
"Richarlyson," Philza decides to start with the simplest of the group to wrangle, and the easiest to pull the other's strings with. "Do you want to come get a bed at the hospital ready for your dad?"
It's not a question anyone should ever ask of a child, but here it is, and here it is asked.
Richarlyson pops down a sign and, in more than a few emotes, communicates that he will.
Bagi sucks in air through her teeth and asks, "do we have a stretcher?"
"It's upstairs," Roier is the one to reply. "I'll come get it and set things up."
And that is that; Philza nudges Richarlyson upstairs, and soon enough Forever is clean, and treated as best they can, and resting on a hospital bed.
The same hospital bed, but this time there's at least a little more of his family gathered around.
It's horrible, it's a memory Philza does not want, but events overlap and a hatred for the Federation only grows; why the fuck did they send Forever, of all people, and why send him alone? He is grateful for his children safe, but this...
"He shouldn't be alone," is all Philza can say when they're done, feeling every bit the intruder he is. "Someone needs to stay."
"I'll be here tonight," Bagi offers. "Everyone else, get Richarlyson home to sleep."
Philza doubts that will happen, but takes it as excuse to leave even as the group starts arguing over who should stay, and if they should take shifts overnight. He whispers a thank you to Forever, and squeezes his hands, and then vanishes off back home.
As soon as he descends the ladder, two children attack him with hugs. He scoops them up and places one on each hip, and tries to ignore the bandages all over their skin. He kisses both of their foreheads, and moves to sit with them on Chayanne's bed.
Wilbur is loitering by the door, and he can hear Missa in the kitchen - either salvaging the rice, or cooking something new.
"Chayanne, Tallulah," he delights in saying their names to them. "It's okay, we're all okay. Tio Forever's all patched up, and Tia Bagi is going to stay with him and make sure he's okay - she's Cellbit's sister, so you know you can trust her. Some of the other Brazilians will probably stay, too."
Both of his eggs nod against his sides, shaking a bit as they soak in his touch. Neither of them reaches for a sign, so he just holds them and keeps them be.
Unusually, Tallulah moves first, running from Philza to her actual father, and being scooped up into Wilbur's arms.
She's carried to her own bed and sat down with him, and not long after Missa appears with five plates of some sort of mashed potato.
Philza, honestly, doesn't really care what it is as he eats, only enough mind for his children and for the way Missa sits beside him and leans his head on his shoulder, and perhaps for thoughts of Forever, who saved their children but lies badly injured in the hospital even now.
"If you're both feeling up to it, we can go see tio Forever in the morning," he promises worried children. "Your siblings, too."
The promise encourages Chayanne, at least, to eat - Tallulah has about fallen asleep on Wilbur already, too tired to do more than open her mouth and swallow as her father feeds her.
"I should get Tallulah home," Wilbur looks at her. "Thanks for the food."
"You can stay the night," Missa says, even as Philza says, "Wil, there's a spare bed and some sleeping bags in the chest."
Wilbur looks at them, and his laugh is humourless, but he whispers an okay. They drift into silence, and Wilbur breaks it as he picks up a tune. Missa doesn't know the words but he hums along, and Philza tucks the eggs into their beds.
#qsmp fanfic#kinda wanted a scene visiting forever the next morning but I'd have had to write it#just know nearly /everyone/ is visiting forever whenever they can#there's just not as much forever as I'd want in this one full stop#but well he did kinda step out of a portal and immediately pass out#and there were bigger concerns
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Okay, so I went hunting for some music that reminds me of the addams au, and I would like to offer to the masses:
For some angrier Usagi songs/songs if Usagi snapped, I offer you Burning House by Nico Collins, Sarcasm by Get Scared, The Fox by North Bloom, How It Feels To Be Lost by Sleeping With Sirens, The Darker The Weather // The Better The Man by MISSIO, and Gasoline by Halsey (I know this last one's not perfect lyrics-wise, but the energy feels like it fits Usagi to me).
For some sadder Usagi, I offer lovely by Billie Eilish, Neurosis by Oliver Riot, Silence by Marshmallo & Khalid, Lost Control by Alan Walker & Sorana, Can I Exist by MISSIO, and My Heart's Grave by Faouzia.
For some songs that fit if Usagi ever escaped, I offer Requiem from Dear Evan Hansen, Lost by ILLENIUM & Emilie Brandt, and Paranoia by Neoni.
Church by Fall Out Boy is very fitting for Leo's perception of his relationship with Usagi, methinks.
And for a more accurate take on the Leosagi relationship, so to speak, I offer Rituals by Jiovanni Daniel and Kitchen Fork by Jack Conte.
And lastly, for some Mikey I offer you Kamikazee by MISSIO, CEMETARY by AViVA, Monster by Willyecho, Play with Fire by Sam Tinnesz & Yacht Money, and Hell's Comin' with Me by Poor Man's Poison.
I'm sure you've heard plenty of these already lol, but I thought I'd share in case any of these catch your attention. :]
Jupiter, I owe you my LIFE
Who would've known Nico Collins really just FITS Leosagi???? Like all the songs so far have matched really well?? And I love how The Fox just has that really angry just SCREAMING in it, it's so raw and just. It gives me the happy. And how do I EVEN TALK ABT Darker the weather//better the man w/o just copy pasting the entire song????? Hm?????
Usagi and Mikey both match Gasoline so well but like. On opposite ends of the spectrum and just. Kicking my feet and skipping down the street ong
I'm convinced Billie and Khalid just wrote Lovely FOR Usagi. Convinced of it, absolutely.
And Neurosis???? Just the paranoid energy and just. ALL OF IT! YES! Yes please??? I love how it's almost blaming himself for Leo, like that he was something Usagi 'did wrong' sorry, pardon my heart eyes rn 😍
And The Silence song??? God how it talks about how Usagi always gave but never Got AND THE FUCKING 'I FOUND PEACE IN YOUR VIOLENCE' I AM DONE PRETENDING TO BE NORMAL!!!!!! IM DONE!!!!!/pos
I don't even know how to TALK about 'my hearts grave' other then just feral screams/pos
I swear these Dear Even Hansen songs always stab me in the heart but I love them SO MUCH <33333 I REALLY REALLY DO!!!! Usagi gets a hopeful song. I'll let him have this
And I love how The 'Lost' song has the 'its back to basics now' because TRUE!!! And just the rhythm and the energy and AAAAA 💕💕💕💕
Also what is it about songs about paranoia that hit so HARD???? WHAT IS IT???? BUT NEONI OVER HERE CAN TAKE ALL MY MONEY AND PROPERTY NOW. RIGHT NOW
And I would've never thought of falloutboy for Leo, but NOW ITS ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT/POS
And I think Rituals by Jiovanni Daniel is like???? A new fave song???? Both just overall and in Leosagi terms???? I love the little 'fear on your skin, let the ritual begin' whisper, it's so. Idk how to describe it but I promise I love it
Kamikaze is actually already in Mikeys playlist!!!!! Because it's fucking SPOT ON!!!!! SERIOUSLY!!! And Monster???? By willyecho???? How do yall find such good songs???? I could see Mikey singing and jamming to this, I love the guitar (I think, I'm not a instrument person) in the background. Whatever it is
Play with fire gives me so much art inspo I wanna draw Mikey SO BAD he's one of those mfers who likes the smell of gasoline and how he's an adrenaline junkie and just. Please I'm not eloquent enough to explain my love of all these SONGS
And hells coming with me??? Mikey is definitely one for revenge... and he DEFINITELY thinks he's a god... please Mikey would kill me if he knew a country song was on his playlist but it fits too well to NOT ADD
I'm sorry some of these are really vague, but I'm/gen when I say I listened to all the songs and enjoyed them greatly. Thank you so much :]
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Hay there B) I'm interested in the silly lil 🎃 :D
Fandom Supernatural, of course! Don't be afraid to pair me up with someone who doesn't get as much traction or isn't the main two (of course, if I don't get one of the main two). :)
I'm an avid enjoyer of everything spooky and scary and hunting would definitely be something I'd do if I were in the SPN universe. I feel the loner but necessary alliances type, but I wouldn't be one to get too attached unless I felt a serious spark. Not against working with the same individual more than once, either.
I personally like to imagine my own self-insert as some "earth angel" or spiritually in-tune young woman who can read auras, emotions, feel what one feels, etc etc. I'm what others would call an empath irl (not in the super trippy spiritual way if thats what you don't believe in), I'm just super compassionate and empathetic. I don't know if that part's important, but as rough and violent as I can be (when need be), I'm all for peace and tranquility within one another. I'd always try to solve any tension rather than make it worse. I keep quiet, reserved and to myself unless someone I care about is hurt and needs someone, or if someone tries to start bs with me. I was always that mother friend.
My anger and my envy I experience typically come from not really having a normal childhood even in real life. I never got to experience high school dances, dates, or hell even an irl high school to begin with. Just homeschooling, barely even any real irl friends or social cues. I envy everyone who gets anything and everything they've ever wanted.
My taste in overall men (and women) can be kind of unstable. I'll love the hero, but I'll also fall hard for the villain. My red flag is I think I can ease the villain's heart. No matter how clingy, or obsessive, or dickish they are. I'm also kind of obsessed (shhhh don't tell anyone...)
My hair is long, wavy and dirty blonde. My eyes are kind of sad, down turned like Blue Diamond's from SU. I like to dress in many different styles, if I'm feeling it but typically I go for something simple. Long, flowy skirts, blazers, t-shirts, flannels. If I'm feeling nice, a pretty white dress with pearl headbands. Or I'll try to look like a school girl coming home from a long, tiring day from dealing with her bitchy teachers and even bitchier classmates. Either light or dark, it depends on the mood. I'm also Christian.
I'm obsessed with true crime, demonology, mythology, and other spooky stuffs. I also enjoy writing, reading fanfics/novels, the occasional sketching and drawing, and I also wanna look into making custom dolls. I've looked into white magic before, attempted it a few times in the past. I'm a huge music fanatic, all genres (yes, even country...), but I typically listen to shoegaze, noise, metal, rock, and goregrind. Anything with screaming, distorted vocals, distorted/soft guitar, or no vocals at all, basically. (Examples being Duster, Deftones, Ghostemane, Giles Corey, Have A Nice Life, In This Moment, Birthday Massacre, etc)
I'm into some pretty dark shows and movies. I'm not in many fandoms, I don't see my own SPN self in many either, but I've seen a fair share of fucked up films. A Serbian Film, Dog Tooth, Lolita, The Handmaid's Tale (mainly the show), Miss Violence -- I watch them for comfort from my own trauma, and I see myself doing the exact same thing in SPN. My twisted past with ex boyfriends and abusive family members are probably what's gotten me head over heels, reeling over villainous characters that could snap me in half if they wanted.
I just want to be loved.
Anyways, I hope that's enough for you! I kind of overshared, but I hope it's alright! TL;DR I just want someone, anyone to love me for who I am and enjoy some of my hobbies. Take all the time you need, I understand your box might be full as hell.
first of all i love you so much and you absolutely deserve to be loved and worshipped because you’re beautiful and worthy of love and acceptance and care <3 (if you ever want to talk more my inbox is always open)
with that being said:
i ship you with cas :)
i know you said to not be shy to ship you with someone who isn’t the orig/main few, but i got heavy castiel vibes from you <3333
i think that he’s be drawn into your quiet but badass energy. how you want to diffuse traumas or tension before it even happens, but he also sees you on hunts as such a badass demon killing person. he also finds it fascinating how empathetic you are.
he loves all of your hobbies and often will sit next to you while you write or read. when you mention custom dolls he will freak out and absolutely ADORES watching the process.
he thinks you’re gorgeous. your blue eyes match his and your hair mesmerized him.
i also think that you guys can bond over traumas. while you have childhood based and family/ex-lover trauma, castiel definitely holds some trauma in thinking he’s not good enough or things from the other angels in heaven.
you guys balance eachother out. you teach him so much and you guys have the cutest little dates, the type to be up until 4am having deep conversations.
castiel also isn’t a rat and you deserve someone who isn’t a rat <33
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Dude I absolutely adore your blog and your OC?? Disco spider is everything I strive to be in life 😭
Also, about disco spider. Does she have any powers outside of like the normal set spider powers? [Like Miles invisibility and electricity?]
Thank you so much!! Disco was the whole reason I learned how to draw recently lol
But yes, she does!! (sorry if this is long cause it kinda has to do with her arc and theres like a story behind it sorryr lojfkghdjj)
Disco-Spider's Summer Song
Diane's special attack is her Summer Song, otherwise called 'A Donna' by her team-mates. It's kind of a 'Black Canary' type power, named after the Disco singer Donna Summer rather than the season.
While performing or in battle, Diane can belt a high-note loud and high enough short near-by electronics and stun or daze people.
The dazing effect is useful for giving performances a mystifying feeling, but unlike Miles cannot do it on command nearly as easy.
It doesn't work if she yells, and she has to warm up her scales to even be able to attempt it.
They're less like Ariana Grande whistle notes and more like the belted notes of the song 'Funkytown'.
If it's done without some form of music, it's nearly impossible to do - and she has only done it without music maybe 3 times before - once being at Miguel after Gwen gets sent home.
She can however attempt it more if she's playing her bass Opal. However she'd never go swinging Opal around in battle the way Hobie does (lol)
Disco, Hobie, & the Summer Song
more context on how it plays into her arc
About a year into knowing each other, Diane and Hobie discovered during a battle that her Summer Song reacts to Hobie's guitar playing
Albeit with a lot of drawbacks.
The power is a lot less predictable with Hobie's music style - and when she attempts to hit a Donna, it's effects will be partially influenced by his playing.
This is implied, with her Summer Song being most powerful when the both of them are playing.
But every successful Donna she's hit with Hobie leaves her voice raw for at least at day. Hobie's music is heavily influenced by the Gwen Stacy of his universe, and although Diane can match her range, she sits a whole octave above Diane.
Because of that, singing with Hobie - in battle or on stage - pushes her to the top of her register. So they don't do it often. Besides, she hates singing hard rock.
BUTTT the two of them do have a 'secret weapon' they haven't ever tried in person. At one point in knowing each other, Hobie and Diane dated for two weeks, fought the entire time, wrote and an album and then broke up.
They actually were in a pretty sour place at the time, and the last argument they had came down to eventually making a song together to settle it - a very angry and uptempo funk-rock song.
They have only ever played the song twice.
The time they played it before the breakup - it was enough to cause a good chunk of damage to Hobie's houseboat, and they broke up immediately after.
The second time they played it, it was Gwen's idea in an attempt to get them to reconnect. The three of them polished the song, with Gwen acting as mediator on drums.
The effects of the finished song were pretty catastrophic (in a good way) -
However it took a large hit to Diane - causing her to lose her voice for 3 or so days. She slept most of that time and was completely exhausted and out of it. A bit guilt-ridden, Hobie took care of her then and they rekindled from there.
Now they're back to being close - somethings. A good something, though.
They still haven't played the song again. Hobie always pushed Diane to develop vocally and push herself range wise, but that song is probably the only time he's like 'hey maybe dont go for that one.'
but Diane is adamant that if they were to try a third time, they'd get it completely right.
And for anyone who read this far (thank you soo much!!!!), and this is the song they 'wrote' before their breakup
[It's by Kimbra, the woman who featured on 'Somebody I Used to Know'. It's a rock-funk song where her vocal range is CRAZY. Her voice could totally tear a houseboat to shreds]
#Thank you so much for asking this!#You absolutely do not have to read it all i just needed to put it somewhere lol#spidersona#spidersonas#atsv#spiderman#spider man#hobie brown#hobie brown x oc
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So, people are filling out a questionnaire for the @sonic-oc-showdown, eh? Well, time to do that for Khalid!
Name: Khalid Shiva
Species: Snow Leopard
Type: Speed
Alignment: Chaotic Good.
Home: Anywhere with high enough elevations.
✨ How did you come up with the OC's name?
Claude Fire Emblem. I'm not even kidding.
🎓 How long have you had the OC?
I don't remember exactly, but at least 2 years, I think.
🌼 How old are they? (Or approximate age range)
19.
🍕 What is their favorite food?
Any sort of meat, or anything spicy.
🌺 Do they have any love interest(s)?
Nope! Man's single.
💼 What do they do for a living?
He's a vigilante for the most part, but he also does various odd jobs here and there to earn some extra cash.
🎯 What do they do best?
Fighting, obviously! He was trained in hand-to-hand combat for years! Why? Family tradition.
🎹 Do they have any hobbies?
Learning new languages, occasional guitar-playing.
🥊 What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?
Loves: fighting, exploring, training, helping others. Hates: solving puzzles, thinking too hard, being stuck in one place for ages.
❤️ What is one of your OC's best memories?
Training with his mother! She's always been one of his role models, and for good reason.
✂️ What is one of your OC's worst memories?
Setting himself on fire with his powers when he first awakened them. His arms are still scarred from the incident, but those scars aren't visible due to the sheer density of his fur.
🧊 Is their current design the first one?
Sort of. Originally, he looked a bit more like a typical Mobian: shoes, no claws, more normal face, etc.
🍀 What originally inspired the OC?
I sorta made him out of necessity, but his powers were originally heavily inspired by those of Misaka Mikoto (from A Certain Scientific Railgun), and his looks were slightly influenced by Sogiita Gunha (from the same series). Other than that, he wasn't inspired by much.
🌂 What genre do they belong in?
Some sort of fighting game, or maybe something like the Dynasty Warriors series. He'd just work well in anything with fast-paced combat.
💚 What is your OC's gender identity and sexuality?
100% male, homoromantic/asexual.
🍎 What is the OC's relationship w/ their parents like?
He's on good terms with them. Frequently visits, and looks up to both of them.
🙌 How many siblings does your OC have?
None. Man's an only child.
✏️ How often do you draw/write about the OC?
Incredibly frequently... if you count roleplay servers on discord.
🧠 What do you like most about the OC?
Somehow, he’s both simple and deep. I still don't understand how past me managed that.
💎 Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?
Ha! No.
💀 Does your OC have any phobias?
Yes. Fire.
🍩 Who is your OC's arch-nemesis/rival?
There's a certain genetic abomination I will not be naming whom he has beaten up before, and will be beating up again, in as many servers as it takes. Rest assured, she deserves it. She is technically his arch-nemesis.
And boom, there it is! One questionnaire, all filled out!
#socs poll#sonic the hedghog#sonic original character#sonic oc poll#khalid the snow leopard#socs: khalid
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Demonic Priest AU x Reader - Wayward Home
I wrote a thing for the Demonic Priest AU created by @betasuppe. I want to say this is a one-shot, but I'm already imagining the next encounter. Someone send me some climbing gear 'cause I've fallen down a rabbit hole and I need to get out.
The only thing Emmet knows about the person watching him is that they are very much real.
Even without the help of Ingo sweeping along the walls and creeping around the corners, he still catches a fleeting glimpse of someone just out of the corner of his eye. First the tip of a shoe from behind the open doorway. A few minutes later, he spots a shoulder and arm through the window.
It’s just a small distraction, nothing that takes him away from performing the sermon, but it’s enough to make the mind wonder. Fresh faces, especially the sweet ones, often meander outside the church. Curious or perhaps even spiteful of the congregation, but unwilling to join the masses. A new neighbor, maybe a tourist, or perhaps a timeless nobody looking for something new. It doesn’t matter, Father Konrad welcomes people from all walks of life. And if it’s the last two, perhaps he can have a little fun himself. Start with the foot and then the arm…
The sermon concludes, and they agree to linger a bit longer than usual today; the best newcomers often prefer to show themselves once everyone else is gone, and Sunday Mass regrettably brings in the biggest draw. So he stays behind, listening to pointless thoughts and feelings before responding in kind. When his mind starts wandering, Ingo helps him keep track of what they say and what they want to hear.
Then, outside the mindless chatter, they notice two things. One is that the people are funneling to the door faster than normal. The second is the faint sound of a guitar. The crowd only has to turn toward him before parting to let him pass through.
Worn out shoes taps against the sidewalk while your arms move, plucking and pressing the strings of the guitar in your hands. Baggy clothes hang off you, seemingly jumping in time with your movements. Low and heavy notes strung together into an upbeat song that has a few people nodding along in time. Your voice is warm but the words are almost growling out with how much force is put behind each sound. The youngest children, whose parents dragged them to church despite their obvious objections, squeeze past the adult and run up to you, nearly tumbling onto the sidewalk with how quickly they stop. You glance up at them from your stoop with a playful grin and nod in time to the beat. And they start nodding along with you. Then they start dancing and clapping. The church is empty; anyone who hasn’t gathered around you has left altogether.
The music stops, but the silence only lasts for a second before applause and cheers take its place. A few people step up and drop a coin or a bill into the open case resting at your feet. Parents herd their children away, some with more ease than others, and you playfully wave goodbye as they stare back with wide eyes. And just as quickly as they had gathered, the crowd disperses, splitting into two groups heading up and down the street, until it’s just you standing at the bottom of the church steps and him at the door. You ascend the stairs.
“I take it you’re the one runnin’ this place?”
There’s an accent when you talk, and it’s hard to tell if the roughness in your voice is from performing or just how you speak. You’re clearly new in town, but there’s a shine in your eyes that only comes about from years of experience.
“I’m Father Konrad,” he introduced, offering his hand, which you happily shake. Calluses and cracked skin scrapes against his palm, only to be soothed away by the warmth of your own.
“Pleasure to meet ya.” You turn back the way you came, almost leading him down with you before letting go of his hand. He still follows behind. “I hope ya don’t mind me borrowin’ your flock. I figured a church on Sunday was a safe bet.”
A quick glance inside the case shows the meager sums you managed to earn. You scoop them up and drop them in the hole-riddled pocket of your jacket before lowering your guitar into the case. Like how a mother lovingly cradles a baby before placing it in a crib.
“You’re not from around here. What brings you to the city?”
You shrug and pick up the case. Stickers and scratches litter the black leather. Some look brand new, others are so faded that it’s impossible to read out even in the midday sun.
“Just passin’ through. Figured I’d stay a while, see the sights, then head on out.”
If there were ever a perfect opportunity, it just placed itself right at their feet. It would be best to take you right now, before anyone else notices you. But a good meal should be savored, should it not?
“And how long will you be staying?”
“A couple a’ weeks; a month, tops.”
A month. The thought of waiting so long makes his stomach turn. It would be a challenge, but so very worth it. What hides behind that smile and gleam? Ingo has always preferred the soul over the flesh, but even Emmet is curious to see what will happen once they crack open that outer shell and peek inside. For now, it’d be best to lay the trap and wait. Who knows, maybe he can sneak a taste before they take you apart.
“Perhaps you’d be willing to come inside the church next Sunday.”
Something shifts. He can sense it before he even realizes what it is. Your eyes narrow just a bit and you laugh. Not unkindly, but certainly not the same warmth you so freely offered his flock just moments ago.
“I’ve got plenty a’ questions for God. And if ya ask anyone who knows me, they’ll tell ya I’d give my right hand for some answers. But with all due respect, sir, I think I’d rather just wait ‘till I see God and ask him myself.”
Proud and dismissive words spoken with the resignation of defeat, all wrapped up with a friendly smile. Just the act of unraveling your words has him feeling a twinge of discontent; it's hard to tell if where - or more appropriately who - it's coming from. You chuckle and wave goodbye, but it feels like you’re looking down at him from the bottom of those stairs.
“See ya ‘round.”
This is going to be a verrrrry long month.
My Brain: ♫ Why do you write like you're running out of time? ♫
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Hihi! I was wondering if you could do a matchup for a male character for ROTTMNT if they are open and or possible👀i have never done this before so please forgive me if I left out anything important- if your requests are closed then feel free to ignore and or delete!
I am 5'5", trans!masculine (i also identify as nonbinary and a demiboy) and i use he/they pronouns (dysphoria sucks..) I am pansexual but sometimes i have a preference towards men. My personality type is INFP and I dislike any form of social interactions, avoiding them the best i can. I can sit down and work on something for hours at a time and forget to do things such as eating or brushing my teeth before i go to bed but i also have trouble sitting down and working on other things such as homework. I would say physical affection is definitely confusing with me, one minute i could be wanting affection and to be held or to hold someone but the next minute i don't want to be touched at all. I am have pretty bad sensory issues😶 My love languages are Physical Affection, Words of Affirmation, and Acts of Service. I love drawing and listening to music along with making music myself (via singing, playing piano, playing guitar, etc.) I act differently around certain people, if it's a close friend i will most likely show my true emotions. If it's just a friend i might mask my emotions slightly. If it's not a friend, i don't show any emotions that relate to how i actually feel. I have really dark humor and an example was how i was watching an anime episode and one of the characters was referring to a dead character and said "Look, it's a dead person." And i started crying of laughter. As for anything that can relate to ✨insecurities✨i hate how i look, my hair is fine but i have been told i have a very round and baby-looking face, which i hate. I also hate how small my hands are, i am constantly reminded that they are small and it makes me very insecure to the point where i often walk with my hands in my pockets. I wear glasses since i am V E R Y farsighted and since i am a nerd for my own favorite topics i am often told i look like the nerd emoji (this one:🤓). I am just very insecure but will most likely bottle up my emotions and not let anyone know until someone says something even slightly kind about how i look.
I hope that this wasn't too much or too little or if your matchups are closed! I have never requested a matchup before hahah- i hope you have a very lovely rest of your day/night wherever you are! <3
Hi there! Sorry for taking so long to reply :(
I ship you with…
Casey Jones Jr!
(Obs: I have yet to watch the rise movie (I want to finish the series first, anyways I like to torture myself) BUT! I’ve read enough about him and seen some clips which I think I can grasp a bit of his personality, also idk what truly happens at the end of the movie but I’m guessing the turtles defeated the kraang and Casey now lives with them lol - if not, that’s what happens on this scenario!!!! anyways !!! I hope this makes up for it and isn’t too ooc!!!)
Casey has a really hard time fitting in, since being raised on a apocalyptic scenario, understanding new social cues on a “regular” / normal time line is really difficult, he finds he can be himself around you quite easily, and he tries his best to show you can also count on him whenever you want
He will remind you to take breaks when you hyper focus on whichever task you have in hand, he might even join in sometimes or ask if he can watch you work! (He finds your concentration face really cute) but yeah breaks are a must, he doesn’t want to see you overwork yourself
Also talking about our face: doesn’t matter how much you trash talk about it, he doesn’t agree with it, and he won’t stand it, at first he might be a bit taken back to make comments about it, but during the kraang invasion, those little sweet moments of admiring someone’s facetasse absolutely out of the picture, you just didn’t had the privilege or time for these kind of things, Casey has learned that you features brang peace to him, he caught himself thinking about each and every curve of your face, so no, he doesn’t agree with it. but you bet he will snort/laugh when you tell him about the 🤓 emoji analogy, it’s his favorite emoji now, loves it dearly
If the guys (turtle) ever tease about your body being “tiny” compared to theirs, Casey will step up to defend you, he’s not really the one for confrontation regarding the turtles; but he def has a soft spot for you, if you are ever having a difficult day with dysphoria, Casey will def try his best to help you in any way he can, you have become incredibly important to him and even if he gets shy, he will show it, Casey has lost too much way too soon, if there’s something he treasures it, he will go far and beyond to keep it in his reach
This was very brief, but once again I don’t want to go too overboard so it doesn’t come as ooc 🥲 but I hope you liked it!
Matchups are closed!
#rottmnt#tmnt x reader#rottmnt x reader#rottmnt fandom#rottmnt movie#rottmnt casey junior#rottmnt Casey Jones jr#giulia writes#rottmnt match ups
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S, ship ranking for k i m c h i b u r g e r ?
A: I love it.
finally, some good fucking food. delicious.
it's deeply unfair that this is a rarepair tbh. like what's with that? Americans are so fond of S. Korea that now we're swapping music and movies??? And yeah that's kinda normal but that's normal with other English-speaking countries, not other languages. Bong Joon-ho got the entire US including then-president Trump to watch his movie and it was critically acclaimed??? like do you know how rare it is for Americans to watch foreign films Britain doesn't count? I just think that's so neat. It was bizarre when Gangnam Style went mainstream, especially for my Korean friends who were just ??? 'Why am I hearing my native language rn?'
like yes Alfred and Yong Soo are military allies and would fight tooth and nail for each other but there's also a much more kind of artistic appreciation that they have for each other? and honestly I think Yong Soo is one of the few people who can actually get Alfred to talk about like, the more complex sort of artistic analysis that he wouldn't share with anyone else.
like even though American culture is so globally pervasive - or, more likely, because it's so pervasive - not many people think of Alfred as a particularly cultured person, and he's honestly fine with that. there's fucking nothing worse than really liking a piece of media and start digging into it just for someone else to say it sucked, right? Alfred is like that about a lot of things he enjoys, and it's hard to blame him when his peers include Francis and Arthur and generally the most snobbish people on earth (ie Europe). He's not going to talk about the merits of video games and/or cinema as an artform with, like, Arthur- (even if that's probably a little bit unfair to Arthur tbh) because enough people have looked down on him for not having any sophistication and his interests being too childish (okay Arthur's definitely guilty of that one) etc etc.
He doesn't worry Yong Soo will judge him though. Imo my Alfred is kinda just Not Great at anything artsy, but he still enjoys doing it sometimes; if he's in the mood to draw a comic, Yong Soo will be the person he shows it to. or if he impulse-buys a guitar and spends months trying to learn to play it, he'll play something for Yong Soo first.
and it's really cute because obviously Yong Soo knows what it's like to have older, "more cultured" people call you childish and tasteless, and he's also just an upbeat, positive person. So when Alfred shows him the dumbest comic he's ever seen or a mangled cover of a song everyone's heard a million times, Yong Soo can still hype it up and engage with it with Alfred. And then Yong Soo starts adopting parts of American culture without seeing it as like, low-class pedestrian kind of content, and Alfred is flattered, thrilled, and a bit baffled. and then Alfred realizes that, oh hey, this shit slaps!
It's really shows and movies that get to Alfred more than anything. Yong Soo asked if Alfred wanted to come over and watch Squid Game and share what they thought of it and Alfred's just 'I want to come over there and kiss you on the mouth. And yes I'll watch Squid Game.'
when it comes to pastries and food, though, Alfred is definitely taking tips from Yong Soo. Yong Soo offers him bingsoo for the first time and Alfred's just 'wow I didn't think you could make me fall in love with you more than I already have but somehow you did.'
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💪🏻 or 💞 for Skwistok!
[Send an emoji and I'll write a drabble]
This was angstier before I remembered I was trying NOT to always default that direction 😅
💞 Post-nightmare cuddles
A restless energy bordering on mutinous had infected the audience from almost the opening bass kicks, worsening as their set progressed. Dissatisfaction wasn't abnormal—pleasing everyone was impossible, no matter how hard you tried—but the rabidity of their die hard fans usually made up for any naysayers, and security was typically on top of removing the rowdiest instigators, be it via gurney or body bag. Tonight, in the face of faulty stage effects and missed cues, it was more difficult than normal to discern the mosh pit from a full-blown riot.
Tonight, he didn't even have to argue with Toki over rights to the guitar solo. The entire band had made themselves scarce during the break. Fine. Skwisgaar would soothe the mob as only he could.
The spotlight burned overhead, his stage makeup melting under the shimmering heat and mixing with nervous sweat dribbling down his temple. Skwisgaar inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, blanking his mind as his fingers danced on the frets.
BNNNGK!
Minor fumble. His brow creased in concentration, ignoring the flutter of nerves twisting his stomach. Easy enough to recover from so long as he kept going.
KRRRNGG!
He clenched his teeth, determined to push through the sour notes. He'd blame guitar exhaustion to save face, but after this concert he'd be running drills until his fingers bled. Just keep playing, drown them out, focus on the music, there was still time to win their adoration back.
PINNNG!
The high E string snapped and he froze, braced for taunting screams. Nothing came. No scornful insults or ghoulish howls of outrage. He opened his eyes to look down at the sea of fickle fans. They weren't booing. Worse. They weren't looking at all. The stadium was gone.
The barstool under him creaked as he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze sweeping over the stuffy coffee shop and the faces of its disinterested patrons. A couple gathered their drinks and left their table; a man seated near the raised area serving as the stage turned back to browsing his newspaper. Everywhere he looked, people blatantly ignored him, chatting over their fika or scribbling in notebooks or cleaning up their trash on their way out.
He searched the tables for anyone familiar, but despite passing out fliers, none of his classmates had come to watch the open mic night. Even the chair where his mother had been seated now stood vacant, two abandoned mugs still steaming on the tabletop. A flash of a red dress disappearing towards the restroom caught his attention, but was soon blocked by a man following through the open door.
His breath came in shallow gasps, his palm sweaty on the neck of his guitar. The cafe manager ushered him to clear out for the next performer, and he tried to blink back stinging tears as he fumbled his instrument into its case and scrambled towards the side alley, shame burning his cheeks as bile rose in his throat. Pain flashed as he bumped hard into the corner of a blocky garbage bin, stacks of used plates and dirty cups clattering in the return bucket, but even then no one looked up. He was beneath notice. The door swung open and—
Skwisgaar woke with a start as a firm grip around his middle squeezed, the cold tip of a nose poking against his shoulder.
"You okei?" Toki whispered, shifting closer so that he was pressed flush with Skwisgaar's side.
The room came into focus around him. High ceiling, faint moonlight filtering through the tall windows, soft blankets draped across his legs. A warm hand rested on his hip, thumb drawing idle circles on his skin where he was sure a bruise should be forming. Except none of it had been real. No stage. No cafe. No audience to his terror, save one. Skwisgaar swallowed around the lump in his throat, the ghost of a sick, sour taste clinging to the back of his tongue.
"Ams fine. Why?" He winced at the mortifying way his voice cracked, scrubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand and staring pointedly at the ceiling. He didn't want to talk about it, felt stupid for even fearing it. No one was indifferent towards Dethklok, their level of fame made it impossible.
Toki's thumb stopped and Skwisgaar immediately chambered an excuse to wriggle free: a dash to the bathroom or a sudden overpowering thirst, any reason at all to leave and avoid the awkward topic of tears or the undeniable trembling in his limbs.
"Oh. Well…" Toki paused thoughtfully, then resumed tracing patterns with his finger. "I'm sorries for wakings you up. See, I…hads a bad dream."
Half-formed escape plans disintegrated. Evidently tonight he was off the hook. "Ja?"
Toki's voice was low and soothing as he continued, the swirling shapes he was drawing now spiraling wider over Skwisgaar's ribs and stomach, a pleasant tingle trailing after his touch. "And whens I gets scared like dat, it usually helps if I gots somethin' to holds onto."
Skwisgaar closed his eyes, releasing the breath he'd been holding and feeling some of the agitated tension evaporate from his muscles.
"I don't gots deddy wif me for dat but…you don't minds, right?"
He shook his head and rolled to face Toki, sighing again when strong arms enveloped him completely. Skwisgaar curled into his broad chest as Toki scooted higher on the pillow, his blunt fingers threading into Skwisgaar's hair and guiding him to tuck his head under Toki's chin. Warm breath tickled the crown of his head when Toki pressed a kiss to his part.
"Dere, now nothing bad can gets me. Ams safe."
Skwisgaar slipped his arm free from where it was pinned between them, snaking his hand up and over Toki's side and splaying his fingers out just beneath the Norwegian's shoulder blade. He waited, listening as the younger man's breathing slowed again and the hand petting his head eventually came to rest at the nape of his neck.
"T'anks you." He whispered. Warmth radiated through him, smoothing the jagged edges of anxiety the dream had left behind. He was safe, and comfortable. More than that though, he was seen.
No spotlight or performance required, no stage or stadium. No audience, save one who knew him best.
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Okay, OC asks...
Give me one weird fact about/habit that each of your OCs have :)
ahh this is wonderful, thank you so much!! Also, this ask is making me realize how many OCs I have, and this is just the ones I've actively written about (there are 11 here, and there are easily 30+ more that I have stored away because I don't have time to write them yet)
Ah well, let's get into it :D
Mira Hart: She has a set of claws that fold under her fingernails (think like how cats' claws fold back into their paws), and she'll fold and unfold them repeatedly as a means of fidgeting.
Rae McKinney: She never wears rings. Her sister is a nurse, and she's heard way too many degloving stories as a result, so she's not exactly fond of rings. She even wears her wedding ring (once she gets married) on a chain around her neck instead of on her finger.
Azalea Jordan "AJ" Campbell: She'll just randomly air-guitar as a means of occupying her hands. If there's something playing on the radio that she knows how to play, she'll finger along, but she'll also just do it to whatever's in her head. Particularly when she's uncomfortable or bored.
(this may or may not be taken from a stim/habit I have myself...)
Katherine Johnson: Usually she has her sketchbook with her, or at least something to draw on, but if she doesn't she'll find a pen and doodle on her own skin. Often that translates to tracing along the vitiligo marks on her hand, filling them in with patterns and things (like henna mandalas, or zentangle designs)
(this might also be something I do, minus the vitiligo. I actually keep a felt-tipped pen in the inside pocket of my battle jacket specifically for this purpose)
Jasper Wilson: literally always has music. And I mean always. If they don't have their iPod with them (and 99% of the time, they do), they'll hum under their breath or just outright sing whatever's stuck in their head. It helps them focus. Usually this isn't too weird, but they're also the type to sing along to the grocery store speakers in the middle of the produce aisle, because self-consciousness is overrated and it's fun
Quinn/Aces: Always has a deck of cards on hand, usually because they find it fun to leave behind a playing card in exchange for whatever they pickpocket (like when they take One's wallet and leave the Ace of Spades behind). They have a habit of shuffling the cards too, to occupy their hands. She'll also get into contests with Billy and try and nick his things without him noticing, and vice versa. He gets caught a lot more often than she does, lol
She also has a habit of tugging on the back of her Mohawk when she's uncomfortable, or just fidgeting with it in general (once again, a habit pulled from my own life)
Indigo: Whenever she wears her toolbelt, she'll tap her fingers along the tools to count them (like how you pat your pockets to check for keys, wallet, phone, etc.). Half the time, it's not even a conscious count, she'll just innately know if something's missing or out of place
Robin Cassidy: Hates having her hands restrained, except under very specific circumstances. She uses sign language, so having her hands restrained is like putting a muzzle on her. Peter's just about the only one who can hold her hand regularly, because he knows her well enough to let go when she needs to speak.
Ophelia Octavius: This one's not quite outwardly visible, but she's grown so accustomed to having the actuators on her back that she'll fire off mental commands to them even when she's not wearing them. It's hard to describe, so here's an example: a plate falls off the shelf and breaks, she'll call off the actuators to let them know it's not a threat, even though she's not wearing them.
And it goes the other way too: when she's wearing them, she sometimes forgets that they're not exactly normal or inconspicuous, and will accidentally freak out a few passers-by
Madison Douglas: She spent five years living in the wilderness, and even after moving to the X-Mansion (where she's got plenty of food, safety, etc), she'll find herself squirreling away nonperishable food without even really realizing it. She gets better about that after a while, but sometimes she'll clean her room and realize she's got granola bars and cans of soup hidden under her bed, in the back of her closet, tucked at the bottom of her backpack. She knows she's safe and doesn't plan on leaving any time soon, but it's just automatic to take the opportunity of food wherever she can.
Prometheus: They need to have their torch with them at all times. If they don't have it with them (i.e. in (Farewell) Wanderlust), they'll have a handheld lighter or candle to make up for it. Basically, they just need to have fire with them. Not to commit arson (thank you Emily), just to have it nearby.
#thank you so much!!! this was a lot of fun to answer!!#answered asks#my friends!!!#my ocs#my writing#fanfic authors#fanfic author#ao3
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It really grounds you, you know? They are regular people living their lives. I’m glad that most of us respect their boundaries and don’t cross that line of looking into their personal/familial relations that don’t have anything to do with well, anything. I feel like that Reddit post about Van’s potential address is both a pro and a con; they’re asserting that the platform won’t be used for that and I agree, it’s very inappropriate but at the same time, bad actors knowing they just have to look hard enough for it, has the potential to backfire. Like compared to handling it quietly without drawing much attention to it but I don’t know. Though it’s really a matter of how you look at it, I suppose.
My favourite album is definitely The Balcony! I love the other two but I feel it just has the most replay value to me. Every time I play Kathleen, I listen to the alternative version afterwards and it makes me so sad that they changed it! I’m a massive sucker for 26 and Anything, they’re my top two songs. The whispering in 26 makes me go completely feral! And the first time I listened to Anything, I somehow missed the little chuckle Van does and now, I can’t help playing it back a handful of times before I can listen to something else.
I’ll leave a little signature to make it easier lol. -😅 anon
Hello 😅 anon! I’ll give you your own tag!
Yeah agree about the Reddit thing, on one hand it’s good to remind people about this kinda thing but then I feel it sometimes encourages people to look for stuff… idk thankfully I think most people are respectful. Like you say they are just normal people underneath it all and we only know the persona they project, like everyone they are entitled to their privacy and to go about the lives how they want.
The Balcony is my fave too! I was actually surprised as I feel a lot of the newer fans tend to favour The Balance. God I love The Balcony so much, played that record to absolute death I love it so much ❤️ 26 is an interesting choice, I feel it’s pretty underrated and probably most people’s least favourite out of the balcony tracks. Omg yes THAT bit - it makes me feel a certain type of way uhhh 😮💨 And I adore Anything, the lyrics, Bondy’s guitar solo, when they play it live and the way Van sings those last few lines… and I didn’t hear the laugh on the recorded version straight away either! I love those little incidental bits on records. Like the sounds in the back of Hourglass (and Van’s sigh before he starts playing 😭)
And you have prompted me to listen to the old version of Kathleen again as I’ve not listened to it for ages…
What’s your favourite live set to watch?
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