#'hey do you remember those times when you liked me?'

[just-sg]

"You're kidding. That's what you're upset about?"

"Wha'd'you mean, of course it is??? How am I not supposed to freak out when I can't even remember who I am!"

"Dude... You seriously think that face is 'you'?"

"What?"

"No, hey. I'm not saying it wasn't the OG, I'm not trying to spring any secret backstory on you or anything. Just... You're you, man, as much as I'm me."

"What are you talking about??"

"This is you. And the dog that stole my lunch yesterday was you. And the crow in these photos, and the harpy form you made for Halloween, and the mice you hide as every time your mom wants to drag you to a boring function. Yes I know about that, not the point right now. Like... It's always you, man. You're not the same as you were yesterday, or last year, or when we were 5, and neither am I. My body changes less than yours, but to be alive at all is to endlessly change."

"I... But..."

"I get it. I swear, even if it's not quite the same, I do. It's scary when you can't go back. When you'll never see that house again, never talk to those friends again, when you can't go back to before you got that injury or before you learned things you never wanted to know. You have to worry about what shape your bones are and whether or not you have scales today, and I've never had to think about that. I have to worry about my body scarring and breaking down, and you can always discard anything that doesn't suit you. It's different, but it comes from the same place. Everything changes, even us, and we have so little control, and that's scary."

"Huh... I guess so. But there's still... Everyone expects your changes, you know...?"

"Right... Yeah, that's fair... You've got me and your mom and a few people who know, but it's probably not safe to tell just everyone. Still... You don't have to become exactly what you were before. Let's take it slow, okay? I'll sit with you. Maybe you'll remember once you calm down and get some momentum, but if you don't, we'll take it one step at a time. We'll work out something close enough. Push comes to shove, we'll tell everyone you got plastic surgery or something."

"Not funny-"

"Sorry, sorry. But really. We'll figure something out. It might not be easy. Change rarely is, and sometimes it uproots our whole lives, and there's nothing we can really do but figure out how to live with it. But no matter how this plays out, I don't want to hear any worries about 'who you are'. I understand if you look 'too' different, it can have consequences, and those do matter. But despite that, no matter what you look like, you're still my best friend. Got it? You'll always still be you."

Your friend, a shapeshifter (a secret you've kept since childhood) hasn't answered your texts in days, so you head to their home. Upon arriving, you find that they're in the middle of an existential crisis; they can't remember how to turn back into their original, human form.

[nanivinsmoke]

❥ keep on comin’ back

babydaddy!toji x fem!reader

the reason he keeps on comin back.

tags: dilf toji, explicit language, dirty talking, creaming, squirting, mentions of breeding, missionary, riding, creampie, nipple play, spanking, etc.

note: shoutout to oomf who said toji keeps coming back to me, you the inspo for this.

“What are you doing here? It’s not my week—hi megs, mimi!” you diverted your attention from your baby daddy to your adopted son and your daughter, hugging their small bodies; before letting them inside of your house.

Turning back around to block him from getting in, you bring up your question again. “What are you doing here? Don’t think you’re getting any, last time was a mistake.”

“Last time we almost gave those two another sibling and I didn’t hear you complaining when you were screaming my name and scratching my back up, while i made you cum back to back.” You bit your lip as he helped you remember the last time he unexpectedly came over, which led to you having multiple mind blowing orgasms that night; and a pregnancy scare.

“well that’s never gonna happen again. now are you gonna answer me?” you stared at his green eyes, arms folded over one another—unconsciously pushing your boobs up through your black beater.

“megumi’s supposed to be having a sleepover with his best friend, yuuji, at our place, but the plumbing’s backed up for like a good week. so, he asked could we do it at mommy’s house. plus, mimi said she missed her mommy.” you cooed and looked back at your daughter and step-son, watching them play with one another.

and before you could open your mouth up to ask a follow up question, toji beat you to the punch.

“tried to find somewhere else for me to go. but, there wasn’t any hotels available. and i think it would be great for the kids to have both parents under one roof. what do ya think?” he asked and you sighed, before moving aside to let him in.

“bags are in the truck,” he smiled and kissed your cheek, turning on his heel to grab their things from his car.

being in an on again and off again relationship with each other was took a toll on you both, but it was also tough for the kids. they couldn’t understand why mommy and daddy aren’t together, however it was moments like this they were happy to have. and deep down inside, you both felt the same.

Toji returned with their bags and made his way up their stairs to the kids room, and the guest bedroom, with mimi hot on his tail. While the two of them got situated upstairs, megumi followed you into the kitchen to help you with tonight’s meal. You giggled as you watched him put on his mini apron before stepping onto his stool to watch you clean some meat for dinner.

Megumi watched with an intent stare as you moved with ease, learning from you while you cooked. “mommy? do you love dad?”

his question caught you by surprise and you nearly sliced your finger off. “yes, but not as much as i love you,” he giggled when you ruffled his raven locks before focusing back on the meal. although megumi’s mom died when he was a baby, you still loved him like he was your own. and truth be told, you really did love toji; no matter how many times he annoyed you.

“so, then why aren’t you guys married? my friend yuuji said that his dad said if two people love each, they should marry each other. plus, i saw this shiny ring in dad’s room at the other house—“

you eyes were wide. a fucking ring? there’s no way—maybe he’s got someone else in mind…right?

“mm…i don’t know. hey, you wanna have that sleepover still? go get the house phone and I’ll call yuuji’s dad.” you nervously laughed and watched him leave, before sighing out.

there’s no way, right?

—

the next couple of hours flew by, your mind was practically a blur—still caught up on the fact that toji has a ring and that he could possibly propose to you.

even though you guys broke up on good terms, parts of you missed him. real bad. you missed having him in your arms at night. missed his scent being all over you. missed him being with you and the kids. missed having him so deep inside of you almost every night.

and the reason the two of you broke up was because of him. he pushed you away, pushed you away from his heart.

yuuji came over and was having a ball with your kids, before the three of them crashed for the night, finally allowing you to have some time for yourself. you lounged on your plush brown couch, glass of wine in your hand as you caught up with one of your favorite shows, when toji’s deep voice echoed through your ears.

“knew I would find you here. what are ya watching?”

“uhh supernatural….toji can i ask you a question?”

“ya just did,” he chuckled and ducked when you hit him in the head with a throw pillow. “you know what i meant.” he nodded and you sipped some more of your wine before turning to look at him, your heart beating out of your chest; while you felt a heartbeat elsewhere.

“the ring you have, is that for me?” there was pause and his eyes caught yours. and before he could open his mouth, you spoke once more.

“meg’s told me you had it. do you really wanna marry me? do you think—“ your nervous rambling was caught off by his lips. the scar on his upper lip rubbing smoothly against yours, making you moan out. and when he pulled away, you whimpered; yearning for more.

“gotta teach him to keep secrets. damn big mouth.” he teased megumi and you gave him a slight kick, giggling at him, before he pulled you onto his lap—your plush thighs melting against his waist.

“but, yeah. ‘m gonna marry you. make you mine and pump you full of my babies,” his last comment sent shivers up your spine and you could feel your panties moisten with arousal. the tension was overwhelming and you couldn’t take it anymore. you crawled off his lap and swiftly pulled his dark grey sweatpants down to his knees, making his fat cock spring to life; before you immediately wrapped your plump lips around his head.

toji sucked in some air and tangled his thick fingers in your hair, pulling it while you worked your way down his dick. his cock was coated with your salvia, dripping down from his angry red tip—to the top of his balls, before you scooped it up and rubbed it all over him.

he was in pure bliss. basking in the sheer pleasure you were giving him. his jaw clenching as you made a sloppy messy on him, trying to suppress the moans that wanted to slip; until you swirled against his frenulum & teased his tip, making him loudly groan out.

you released him with a ‘pop’ sound echoing, your small hands jerking him off while you maintained eye contact with him, “shhh don’t wanna wake them up. now do we?” the look on his face sent a jolt of electricity up your spine and to your aching cunt, causing a switch to flip inside of you.

he watched you quickly pull your panties down, your slick sticking to the fabric, webs of your arousal following; before you squatted down onto his lap once more. “need you inside. need you to cum deep inside of me.”

you whined when you pushed him in, walls immediately stretching out and wrapping around him. this is what he missed. this is why he kept coming back…..well, one of the reasons.

his hands met your hips and helped guide you up and down on his dick, tip pressing into your cervix every once and a while. it didn’t take long for the moans to flow out freely from your mouth as you continued to bounce, stuffing you. and soon, you became even more gushy, cunt squelching while cream started form around his base—sticking to your skin while you moved.

“fuck you’re so tight. missed this pussy,” his hands collide with your ass, the fat rippling from the impact. he gripped the globes of your ass, loving the soft fat, before resting his hands on one of your cheeks.

everything about this felt sooo good. the noises you created and the touches he was giving you, was sheer bliss and you could feel an orgasm approaching. toji could feel you clenching down on him repeatedly and he groaned at the sensation. with his free hand he pulled the sleeves to your beater down—pushing it down a little—before putting one of your plump mounds into his mouth.

the warm, wet feeling of his mouth made you throw your head back; still enduring the workout of bouncing on his fat cock.

he didn’t know how he was able to last this long inside of you, especially with how long it’s been since the last time and the unbelievable head you gave him. but, he was nearing his end too.

you could feel his hands move to your waist, before your back met the soft plushness of the couch and your legs were planted at his sides. now, his cock was nestled deep inside of your tummy, hitting your spot each time he thrusted.

toji reached underneath your thighs and pulled out your wet sticky underwear, putting it into your mouth to muffle the lewd noises that left your lips. your eyes was rolling back into your head as he fucked an orgasm out of you. well, that is until he pulled you by your hair; forcing you to watch him fuck everything out of you.

“look at the mess yer makin—shit! cum for me mamas”

oh the mess you made.

specks of white blurred your vision as you stomach caved in and a stream of clear fluid splashed out, drenching his black t-shirt and the cushions underneath. you had reached nirvana, but the pleasure didn’t stop there.

toji’s grip on your hair tightened while he pounded your cunt silly—splitting you open, pumping thick white ropes of his seed inside of you.

unable to formulate any words, he just smashed his lips onto yours; hands around your neck as the two of you shared the best orgasms of your lives.

this was it. this is exactly what you wanted. what he needed. why he kept coming back.

he sat back, catching his breath while you started to come back to reality, staring at you with pure love. “guess we gotta order a new crib. hm?”

[memori662]

KIAN vs ALEXA (my two dear snipers...)

Spoiler: they end up as besties

And sorry if the P.O.V. is strange. Idk why sometimes they're written in first person and another times in third person.

Bang!

Alexa dogdes the bullet just by a hair.

Bang! Bang!

Now, what the fuck?

“Hey, to whoever is trying to kill me: I'm sure I have no debts. And if you're looking for any debts my parents might had...” She smoothly takes out her hand-gun. “I'll make sure you don't get your prize.”

Her eyes search for any strange movement. Any sound. Anything. And they land on a green fluffy ball (?) on one of the buildings.

The green fluffy ball (?) must've noticed her eyes on ‘itself’, as ‘it’ —in an abnormal velocity— changes placement.

“It's a solo sniper? Snipers don't usually attack alone. Or it's a very good sniper or there's more enemies.”

Shit. She has lost sight of ‘it’.

“Are you being a coward?” Maybe provokating whoever that might be lure ‘it’ out. “I mean, if you're a sniper that some dark organization hired to kill me, I'd feel honored to be such an important figure.” For fucks sake, I sounded just like Memori or Mimi...

It doesn't work. Bang!

Oh, they're good.

Alexa isn't one that works in dodging —unlike a particular blonde girl named Memori—, she's also a sniper. And she recognizes a good job done —thing that Memori definitely wouldn't...— Wait, don't think of her everytime??! Maybe those are things that happen when you're a competitive person and is paired with someone who enjoys remarking ‘how much better she is at everything’. But anyway, as I was saying— Bang!

“We're gonna be bad blood...” she mutters.

Her red eyes scan the place quickly, taking notes of anything she could use at her advantage and anywhere more enemies could been hiding. I should probably ask for help— Bang!

She would've been already dead if it wasn't for her quick thinking. She's been doing this practically since her birth.

I should confront them directly. Snipers usually don't have good hand-to-hand combat skills.

And with a quick and quiet running, she luckily makes it to the top of the —gladly not too tall— buildings without being shot.

She knows the green fluffy ball —that now takes the shape of a young adult probably with her same age, that wears a fancy mob-like suit that which would give off an intimidating aura if it wasn't for his puppy-like expression— allowed her to actually come closer, because he clearly isn't a normal human.

“Wow,” the puppy-looking boy speaks, “it's been a while since someone succesfully dodged my bullets.” His voice doesn't have any venom, just genuine interest. “You're good.” He smiles.

“I know I am good.” As she speaks she fires her gun. “No need to remember me.”

“If I shoot now, you cannot dodge.” The green-haired boy smiles slyly as he easily dodges the bullet. “Are you sure it's wise to keep attacking me?”

“Who said I couldn't dodge?”

“It's basic knowledge. You're so close to me that if I fire right now, you wouldn't have time to dodge.” he speaks lightly with a sing-song tone.

“Are you suggesting we chit-chat this over? Because I'm no diplomat.”

“Neither I am.” Even though his voice and overall appearance were so soft and puppy-like, the sniper in his hands right now says the contrary.

He probably isn't half bad in hand-to-hand neither. I need to be careful for any ambushes or hidden trap.

“Are you thinking about my skills right now, Alexia?”

“It's Alexa.” Oh no, this man is giving me déjà vu...

“I think Alexia sounds cuter, don't you think so?”

... Definitely déjà vu.

“Hehe, but I think Alexia suits you better, don't you think so, Ale~xia?”

Ugh, get out of my head, you fucking egocentric bitch—

“My name doesn't have anything to do with being ‘cute’. And how do you know my name?”

“Your name?” He widens his eyes —so fucking adorable—. “I thought you'd know me!”

Nope. This guy's on drugs.

“I'm Kian. K-I-A-N!” If he had a tail, it'd be swinging happily right now. “And you're Alexa. A-L-E-X-A.”

Why is he spelling the names again...?

“I asked you a question.”

“Memori is your Boss or something like that, right?”

Of course.

“You know her?”

The glimpse of sadness in his eyes disappears as quick as it appeared. “Yes.”

“What's she to you?”

“...” He seems to be struggling to find the correct words. “We- She was a close friend.”

... Is this some sort of pattern? Thinking of all the similarities...

Being unclear as fuck, acting as if everyone should know what you're talking about, being in your own world, switching personalities as a light switch, loud, child-like, asking how your name's spelled... There's definitely some patterns.

“Are you implying she hired you to kill me?”

“I'm not,” he whispers to himself. “It was just because.”

“Just because? Nobody hired you, no ‘a higher power demanded me to’? Nothing?”

He nods with apologetic eyes. “Memori seems to like you very much.”

Hell yeah she does and doesn't even try to hide it.

“You're asking why Alexa has to go with me?” She asks with a nonchalant expression. “Obviously because she's better than you all.” Her words are often impossible to understand if they're seriously or not. But it wasn't the first time that she admited a clear favoritism with Alexa.

“But Alexia, what do you man with a high—”

“Dude, did she reject you or what? You look so hopeless always talking 'bout her.”

“No?? I don't see it.”

“Ya sure?”

“Sure. She's like my sister.”

“... Really?”

“Really. She's like a black cat.”

What. Definitely no.

“Uh-huh,” I continue. “Why did you think it's a good idea to attack me?”

“Well, since Mori bullies you—”

“She doesn't.” Mori.

“—she must like you very much! And I wanted to see what it is that she likes about you so much!”

“You're nuts.”

“I'm not a nut- I'm not an aliment!”

“I know you're a real human.” He recoils just a bit when I call him a real human. “I meant you're crazy.”

“Ohh!” He has fangs. “That's what you meant!”

“Are you four or what?”

“I'm the same age as you!”

“Really? I don't think so. And how the fuck do you—”

“Ah, sorry for this,” he says as he lowers his sniper.

“No worries.” A total weirdo after another weirdo. “And where ya from? Your work, I mean. You look too fancy to be a normal sniper. Don't tell me you're a blue-blooded rich?”

“Ah, that is... Hm.”

“Very helpful,” irony fills my words. “So ya aren't a rich?”

“Ah, you could say... Kind of rich. My work pays me well.”

“Are riches becoming more and more common by the time?”

“People are getting better and better at finding suitable jobs!” He exclaims with optimism.

“I don't think Memori's your friend.”

“She's an angel! Who wouldn't be her friend?”

“An angel, you say?” She asks skeptically.

“She may be nicknamed sinner now, but I mean it as her personality—”

“She's nicknamed sinner now?! Since when?”

“Ah, between a circle of rumours,” he half-lies smoothly. “Nothing big, really. Some people simply resent her for her former job.”

“That chick was probably in some illegal trade. Tell me otherwise,” she rolls her eyes in exasperation.

“You don't know where she used to work?”

“At least me, no.” She looks at the sky. “She's a real mistery among us. Classic rich person behaviour. How delightful.”

“You don't have a very limited vocabulary!” He seems oddly excited about it. “I thought you wouldn't know words like ‘delightful’.”

“It's not a bad thing.”

“Why the hell wouldn't I.” No, this man right here? He's also a total fucker.

“Uh-huh.” Of course it is a compliment. Of course. Very obvious. Totally expected.

He suddenly grabs my hand and shakes it with both of his hands with a bright smile, but quickly stops after what seems like remembering etiquette. As if there is an etiquette for shaking hands. There isn't, right? ... Not that I would know, anyway.

A little late, no? “Alexa. Pleasure's mine. Is that what I'm supposed to reply?” I ask genuinelly this being the first decent handshake I've ever had.

“Excuse me,” he apologies with a smile as he lowers up his right-hand and looks at me expectanly.

??? What does he wants me to do?

“Uhm... What do I do?”

“Ah, nothing,” he dismisses.

Oh, a headshake.

I offer my left-hand to him. He stares at my hand, as if it was strange. Fuck, do headshakes have some etiquette I'm not aware of? “Am I doing something wrong?”

He focuses his attention back to my eyes as he accepts my headshake also with his left-hand. “It's not a big deal. Usually, handshakes are with the right-hands.”

So it does have an etiquette.

“Oh. I'm left-handed. I didn't know.”

“Don't worry your pretty little head about it.” He replies as he shakes his hand four times, completely different from how his behavior was a minute ago. “My name is Kian. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Mhm, maybe a little bit more formal, but yes,” he chuckles and nods. “You are cute. Like a mouse.”

Like a mouse. That's new.

“And you're like a dog.” It's an implied insult.

“Why, yes! I get told that often.”

“Figures.” I stare at this green-haired man with disbelief at his obliviousness.

“Welp, I need to go now.” He adds, “Boss expects me...”

Boss? So he does work for someone, huh?

“Bye-bye, Alexia! It was nice to meet you!” He waves his hands with excitement.

“... Nice to meet ya too, I guess.”

And with that, he jumps swiftly away.

Huh, what a strange man.

Randomly pick 2 OCs. Make them fight. How will it go?

[jjangwonie]

DOUBLE LIFE

DOUBLE LIFE MASTERLIST

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ summary: With your anonymous Twitter account, you've acquired a pretty good following and popularity, throughout your school as well. Jake, your long-time crush, is one of them, head over heels. Yet when you once confessed to him, he had rejected your confession, saying that he already has his eye on someone else. What happens when he finds out that his online crush is the person that he rejected? And... How are you going to deal with this?

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ word count: ~2.1k

THIRTY SIX - Hey

The door creaks open and Jake practically stumbles inside, shoulders hunched from the cold. You quickly step aside as he hastily walks around, before closing the door behind him.

"Jesus, it's freezing," he mutters, rubbing his arms before suddenly freezing in place. He turns around, facing you properly for the first time in what feels like forever.

"Hey," he says, voice softer now.

"Hi," you reply with a small, uncertain smile, one hand rubbing your arm nervously. You're drowning in fluffy pajamas, your hair falling messily around your face, and even with slightly flushed cheeks from the fever, you're...

Jake has to remind himself to breathe.

"Oh, um," you gesture to the bouquet he's still clutching, "the flowers..."

"Right! The flowers. I, uh..." He looks down at the colourful bundle like he's forgotten he's holding them. "I got them because... well, remember when we were talking about favourite flowers? When you said- I mean, when everythingblue said- or, no, when you said..."

He takes a breath, starting over.

He's rambling now, words tumbling out faster than he can control them. "I didn't actually know which one was really your favourite. You gave such different answers, so... I just... got them all? Which probably looks ridiculous now that I think about it, but the florist was really nice about it, even though it was almost closing time, and-"

He stops abruptly, realizing he's been talking non-stop. A faint blush creeps up his neck.

"I just... wanted to get them right this time." He sighs out while his eyes flicker between you and anywhere else.

"It probably looks like a mess," Jake continues, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "The florist tried to make it look nice but I kept adding more and-"

You can't help but smile as you watch him ramble. It's endearing, really. The way his hands move slightly while holding the bouquet, how his ears are turning pink (and not just from the cold), how he keeps glancing between you and the flowers like he's not sure where to look. This is a side of Jake you've never seen before. Nervous, a little unsteady, words tumbling out unfiltered.

This is the same boy who could expertly control a football, who always seemed so composed in school, now standing in your hallway just before midnight, clutching a mismatched bouquet and rambling about flower arrangements of all things.

"Jake," you cut in softly, and he stops mid-sentence, looking at you with those wide eyes. "I like them. Really. The fact that you remembered all of those random flowers I mentioned months ago..." You trail off, feeling your own cheeks warm slightly. "Thank you."

He lets out a small breath, shoulders relaxing just a fraction. "Oh," he says, and there's that tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Good. That's... good."

The silence that follows feels heavy, and you find yourself fidgeting with your sleeve. "You must be freezing," you blurt out. "Do you want a blanket? Or I could make some tea? I always have some ready and-"

"Actually," Jake interrupts, his expression shifting to something more determined (though the effect is somewhat ruined by his pink-tipped nose from the cold).

"You're the one who needs to be taking care of yourself. Sunghoon told me you haven't been eating properly, and YOU should be resting, wrapped up in blankets, not walking around in the rain, and definitely not eating ice cream at midnight-"

His hands are moving everywhere as he talks, the bouquet swinging dangerously through the air with each gesture. You watch the flowers wobble precariously as he continues,

"-and what were you thinking sitting at a bus stop for an hour? You could have called- anyone would have picked you up, you know that right? And-"

You reach out instinctively, steadying his flower-wielding hand with your own. "Jake."

He freezes mid-gesture, words dying in his throat as his eyes flicker between your hand on his and your face. You can practically see his brain short-circuiting, mouth slightly open, caught mid-word.

"You're going to make the flowers fly away," you say softly.

"Oh," he breathes out, then swallows hard. "Right. Yes. The flowers. Flying. I mean- not flying. They shouldn't fly." He takes a deep breath, seemingly trying to collect his scattered thoughts.

"What I was trying to say is... I'm not exactly a chef or anything, but I make pretty decent ramen. Would you... would you eat something if I made it?"

You can't help but smile at his earnest expression, at how he's standing in your hallway offering to make you ramen, at how he's still letting you steady his hand.

"Okay," you sigh, fond exasperation colouring your voice.

"I'll just put these in water first, alright?"

The kitchen falls into a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft bubbling of water on the stove and the quiet snips of scissors as you trim the flower stems.

Jake busies himself with unpacking the ramen, three different flavours because he wasn't sure which one you'd prefer so he decided to just mix them, trying not to make it obvious how his eyes keep drifting to you.

But they do. They always have.

There's something about seeing you like this - hair slightly messy, drowning in oversized pajamas with little stars on them, careful fingers handling each flower like it's precious. It's so different from how he usually sees you around school, yet somehow exactly the same. The same gentle attention you give to everything, whether it's editing photos or arranging flowers or just... existing in this quiet midnight moment.

You're humming something under your breath, probably not even aware you're doing it, and Jake finds himself holding his own breath, afraid to disturb this moment.

You look so... at home. So real.

He watches as you gently touch a daisy petal, adjusting its position in the vase with such care that something in his chest aches. It hits him then, how much he's missed this, missed you, even the parts he didn't know existed until now.

The water starts boiling more vigorously behind him, snapping him back to reality.

Right. Ramen.

He's supposed to be making ramen, not standing here like an idiot, watching you arrange flowers with what he's sure is the most embarrassingly soft expression on his face.

But he can't help stealing one more glance, memorizing how you look in this moment, slightly fever-flushed but smiling, surrounded by the flowers he brought, looking so perfectly, wonderfully real.

"How's it going?" you ask, turning away from the now-arranged flowers.

"Almost ready," Jake responds, quickly pretending he wasn't just staring. "Just waiting for the noodles to cook properly."

You hum, moving towards the fridge. "Want me to add some eggs? Make it a proper meal?" You're already pulling them out before he can answer, and he watches as you move around your kitchen with familiar ease, grabbing a smaller pan and some vegetables.

Jake tries to focus on stirring the ramen, he really does, but his eyes keep wandering back to you.

Your hair keeps falling in your face, and each time you brush it back with the back of your wrist, careful not to touch it with your cooking hands...

"The water's boiling over," you say without looking up.

"What? Oh- shit-" Jake quickly turns down the heat, feeling his ears burn as he realizes he's been caught not paying attention.

But when he glances back at you, there's a small smile playing at the corners of your mouth as you continue chopping, and somehow that makes his embarrassment worth it.

He should probably say something, make conversation, but there's something so peaceful about this moment.

The tips of his ears are still pink, but he can't help stealing another glance. Just one more.

You carefully balance your bowl as you lead the way upstairs, Jake following a few steps behind. When you push open your bedroom door, he pauses in the doorway, taking everything in.

"This is..." he trails off, eyes wandering from the fairy lights strung across your wall to the polaroids scattered on your corkboard. "Okay, it's weird seeing your room in real life. I mean, I've seen parts of it in your photos, but-"

"Jake," you interrupt, settling cross-legged on your bed with your bowl, "if you say it like that, it sounds like you've been stalking me."

"What- no! I meant- I just-" he sputters, then catches your teasing smile. "Oh, you're making fun of me."

"Maybe a little," you admit, patting the space next to you.

He hesitates for a moment before carefully sitting down, trying not to spill his ramen. The silence that falls feels thick with everything unsaid, the only sound being the soft clink of chopsticks against bowls. Jake's hyper-aware of every movement. How close you're sitting, how your shoulder almost brushes his when you reach for a tissue, how your room smells like vanilla and something floral and you.

"This is pretty good," you say softly, breaking through his thoughts.

The tension in his shoulders eases slightly.

"Yeah?" he asks, and he's not just asking about the ramen.

You nod, giving him another small smile, and something in his chest unclenches just a bit more.

With the empty bowls set aside on your nightstand, the silence creeps back in. You're suddenly very aware of everything.

"Oh, right," Jake says suddenly, reaching for his bag. "I brought some... stuff." He starts pulling things out, setting them on your bed with careful enthusiasm.

"Some chocolate - which I know probably isn't great when you're sick, but Sunghoon mentioned you've been eating ice cream anyway, so I figured... And medicine, because fever, obviously. And this-"

He pulls out a small box with a Lego flower set logo. "I saw this and thought... since you like flowers..."

The keychain on his bag catches your eye as he moves - a small plushie, gently swaying with his movements. It's identical to the one sitting behind you besides your pillow. Your throat feels tight suddenly.

"Jake," you say softly, reaching out to still his hands that are still pulling things from his bag, seemingly endless. He freezes at the contact, and when he looks up, your eyes meet.

The fairy lights reflect in his dark eyes, creating tiny constellations, and you're close enough to see the slight flutter of his eyelashes as he blinks.

There's that familiar awkward tension again, but it's different now. Softer somehow, more delicate. Like you're both holding your breath, waiting for something neither of you can name.

A strand of hair falls in your face, and Jake's fingers twitch like he wants to brush it away, but he doesn't.

Instead, he just looks at you, really looks at you, in a way that makes your heart stumble over itself.

You're both so quiet you can hear the gentle hum of your heater, the distant sound of cars outside, the slight rustle of the bag's zipper as it finally settles.

It's strange, you think, how someone can feel like both a stranger and the most familiar person in the world all at once.

Your hand is still on his, and Jake swears his heart actually stops for a second when you say his name like that, so soft and careful, like it's something precious.

He's spent so long being angry, being hurt, but right now, with you looking at him in the gentle glow of your fairy lights, hair messy and cheeks still slightly flushed from fever...

"You're really pretty," he murmurs before he can stop himself.

You let out a surprised laugh, pulling your hand back to cover a small cough. "I am literally coughing up a storm," you say, looking down at your attire. "I look a mess."

"No, you don't," Jake says, too quickly, too honestly. The words hang in the air between you.

His eyes can't seem to stay still - taking in how your hair falls around your face, flickering to the way your lips part slightly in surprise at his bluntness. You look soft and close enough that he can see your soft breaths, and his heart is doing something dangerous in his chest.

Then you cough again, small but enough to remind him that you're sick, that this probably isn't the time for... whatever his heart is trying to do right now.

Jake clears his throat, reaching for the Lego box perhaps a bit too quickly.

"Want to make this together?" he asks, voice slightly rougher than usual. It's an escape route, a way to ease the tension that's been building, to quiet the loud beating of his heart that he's sure you must be able to hear.

But when you smile and nod, scooting closer to look at the box, he thinks maybe his heart isn't going to quiet down anytime soon.

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[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Ramble On

Stephen King: hey remember when led zeppelin did that song about Gollum stealing bilbo's girlfriend? JRR Tolkien: what King: yeah you know King: ramble on Tolkien: WHAT

King: [singing] "ramble on" King: "And now's the time, the time is now King: "To sing my song" King: "I'm goin' 'round the world, I got to find my girl" King: "On my way" King: [performing air guitar] Tolkien: Tolkien: i hate this

King: it's all about how Gollum and the evil one stole his girlfriend away Tolkien: King: the evil one is Sauron Tolkien: I KNOW WHO THE EVIL ONE IS

Tolkien: Bilbo doesn't have a girlfriend! Tolkien: he's a life-long bachelor! Barker: haah yeah Barker: "bachelor" Barker: we all know what that means Koontz: what? what does it mean? Barker: it means he's gay

Bram Stoker: i don't think that's what it means Stoker: count Dracula was also a life long bachelor Barker: i rest my case Stoker: what the Stoker: how dare you Stoker: why you Stoker: [indignant blustering]

Barker: Dracula is hard gay Stoker: you can't just say that! Barker: yeah i can Barker: death of the author Stoker: oooooo why you-- Stoker: always one step ahead!!!

Stoker: fine if that's the way you want to play Stoker: i'm going to say that pinhead is straight Barker: what? you can't do that Stoker: not so much fun now is it, clive????

Mary Shelley: sup fuckers Shelley: what's up Poe: everyone was arguing about whether bilbo baggins had a girlfriend Poe: because of the led zeppelin song Shelley:

Poe: what do you think, mary? Poe: this seems like the sort of thing you'd have an opinion on Shelley: this is nerd shit for dads King: nerd shit? mary, i'll have you know that led zeppelin is actually pretty cool Shelley: i said what i said

Tolkien: this song doesn't even make any sense! Tolkien: why would Gollum and Sauron team up to steal bilbo's girlfriend? Barker: why wouldn't they? Barker: damn think about it Barker: they're probably doing spitroast and everything Tolkien: they couldn't do that! Tolkien: Sauron's just a giant eyeball!

Barker: wait is he literally a giant eye? Barker: i thought that was metaphorical Tolkien: no! Tolkien: it's literal! Tolkien: i don't do metaphor! Tolkien: i'm not some CS Lewis-esque hack!

Tolkien: my words! spoiled by some new fangled rock and or roll band! Tolkien: this is worse than when those blasted beatles tried to make a movie about me! King: the beatles? now THERE'S a rock band! Tolkien: SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!

King: Hey JRR since you know you so much about Lord of the Rings Tolkien: I WROTE IT! King: yeah well since you know so much about it King: maybe you can explain what's the battle of evermore about? Tolkien: Tolkien: Tolkien: uhhhhhh

[koi-p0nd]

MOUTHWASHING X READER ONESHOTS.

Curly x GN Reader

Part 1?

“Come here, sunshine... Let me love you...”

(This is mostly just to polish up my one-shot/fanfic writing skills, don't expect that this will be continued sorry)

02:36. 02:36 in the goddamn morning on the ship and Curly was still up. Having ‘lost track of time’ while sitting in the cockpit and doing his work. Always that ¨lost track of time’ excuse whenever he was confronted by the others. Although the others would confront him about it he didn’t care much, only when you started to scold him about it. 

It was something in the way that you managed to get to him whenever giving him a scolding. He felt like a kid each time. But in an oddly good way.

“God forbid if they knew…” Curly thought to himself, knowing as to why he would feel like a child to your scoldings. He was smitten. So utterly in love it was disgusting. How could Curly let himself fall so hard for someone like them? 

It was lonely on the freighter after all. The only ones he could have any company with were his crew, only seeing them as friends. But you? Oh god… Why did Curly get all fuzzy at the thought of you even being nearby?

Knock knock!

Snapping out of his train of thought, Curly turned around in his seat, looking at the door as it hissed open quietly. Confused, wondering who in the hell it could be.

“Cap?” A voice called out quietly yet sternly. Oh. It’s you. 

Shit.

“Oh, uh… hey..” He replied back with a sheepish sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at you. Forcing an apologetic smile.

“Nevermind, get to bed.” You sighed, shaking your head dismissively while rubbing your eyes. “C’mon. Don’t need you to pass out.” 

Curly sighed, nodding his head. He knew it wasn’t any idea to protest. “Alright, just let me finish with this paper and I’ll come.” He responded quietly.

Quickly finishing up with the report, putting the papers and his pen away he eventually got up from his seat and walked over to the door where you stood. “Sorry, I-”

“-Lost track of time. Again?” You cut him off, raising a brow to look at the blonde captain in front of you. “Yeah... Right.” Curly grumbled in a sigh. “Again..” He echoed in a sheepish tone, unable to stop the guilty smile tugging at his lips. “Sorry.”

You just sighed, shaking your head dismissively one last time. “How about we just get out of here and get back to sleep while we still can, hm?” Curly seemed to perk up at that, gratitude taking over the sheepishness on his smile. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

~¤~

The quiet, soft sounds of the two walking down the halls of the ship. Quiet words leaving them in their discussion about something random, unrelated to any of their work on the ship. 

Curly missed those soft, gentle and quiet moments back at home. Not like he could really remember them anymore, but he felt nostalgic during these rare moments of the quiet late night conversations. 

The two made it out to the lounge, took a seat on the couch and looked at the late night- early morning time window screen. Sitting on the white cushions of the couch, tired eyes on the soft yet harsh light of the screen.

“Why are you like this?” You asked softly, breaking the quietness after several minutes of silently staring at the screen. 

“Like what?” Curly quizzed, gazing over to you with a raised brow and curious gaze. “Why are you forcing yourself to stay up so late?” The words left your tongue with that soft tone, yet laced with worry and annoyance at the same time.

“I-...” Curly trailed off, caught off guard by the question. He didn’t even know what to reply with. Not thinking that the question would be asked so soon. “I don’t know, actually.” He forced out after a few seconds. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Figure it out.” You said sharply, looking at Curly with narrowed eyes. “I’m getting tired of having to literally force and tuck you into bed like you’re a little kid.” 

“Ouch, that hurt.” The captain thought, the words from you stinging but true. 

“Oh, I didn’t know you felt like that-” He started, about to apologize before he got cut off.

“Curly, you’re a captain for crying out loud! You should be able to take proper care of yourself, you’re a grown man after all!” You scoffed, hands rubbing your eyes. “Get yourself together and get to bed when everyone else does.” 

He was baffled. Not expecting such blunt, harsh words from you. His mouth opened but no sounds or words left him.

“This is the last time I’m telling you. If I find you or find out that you’ve been staying awake this late, I will fucking loose it.” Curly just watched as you walked off after saying that. Guilt and shame started to form in the pits of his stomach. Why did he feel so bad…?

[olderthannetfic]

Knitting question!

Intellectually I know failure is fine. I'm a beginner! I'm learning! Mistakes are part of the process! But I find it really hard not to be demotivated by projects not turning out how I want

I spent all this time and materials on this and it's just kinda shit?

Did you experience that/have any advice?

--

I definitely experienced that when I first tried knitting. I don't remember, but I suspect it's why I drifted away from the craft for nearly two decades.

I have a couple of semi-failures from my current re-entry into knitting. I intend to frog or partially frog them and re-knit, but there are other projects I care more about that are taking priority so far.

Right now, I love watching youtube videos with little tricks to improve one's knitting or deep dives into technical matters. I find information on fiber fascinating. I think that has helped me avoid many of the problems I experienced the first time around. Even if I run into an issue now, I can probably redo the project to make it how I want.

I think the first thing to figure out is how it's kind of shit. Yes, yes, you're a n00b, but there are lots of reasons projects turn out shitty. Some issues require a lot of practice. Many issues require reading a blog post explaining some technical thing and instantly upgrading your knowledge.

--

For example:

When I first got back into knitting, I got some pretty green yarn and made a Medieval-looking hood. I had no clue how alpaca behaved or that it would be waaaay too flowy for the look the pattern was supposed to have. I was also knitting the pattern with the wrong size of yarn, needle, etc. It turned out way too big for me and a formless blob. It was also itchy.

A year or two later, I threw it in the dryer, and now it's an epic rainy day hood. It's mostly not itchy because the felting stuck down all those hairy ends. It has a lot more body now because it's felt instead of flowy hand-knit alpaca. (And, hey, it's even more Medieval since those hoods were often felt but not often knitted as far as I could tell.)

What went wrong here was mostly that I knew fuckall about fiber. I knew I was making it in some randomass size and didn't really care that it was too big, but I didn't know it would slither off of me due to alpaca's drape. I didn't need practice: I needed someone to tell me how alpaca behaves.

--

Example 2:

I knit that Owls sweater and didn't like how it had no shaping... so I winged it. I ended up with really bizarre shaping because 1. I had no idea what I was doing and 2. I didn't close the underarm holes until the very end, so the sweater appeared to fit when I tried it on.

I could open the underarms back up and knit a separate piece for them, but I realized that I dislike the fabric overall. I knit it on a too-big needle (in my opinion). I thought I liked that looseness in my swatch, but I have changed my mind. I was also worried about running out of yarn (since it's a used yarn that I won't find again), but I had tons left over. I also think I want it more cropped. The yarn has a sort of nasty texture but beautiful color, and I knit quite a tight (and thus scratchy) sweater. I don't think I wet blocked it though, so that might fix the texture.

What I should actually do here, assuming I don't just get rid of the thing in favor of better yarn, is frog it and reknit from the top down, reversing the pattern and not having a phase with the underarms open like that. I should also knit it at a tighter gauge but with a little more positive ease, and I should trust that the stretchiness of wool will make it conform to my body just fine without a lot of shaping. Before any of that, I should wet block it and see how the texture changes.

I don't really consider this a permanent failure. I like the Owls themselves. I can easily just knit this again and get a sweater I want to wear... possibly a cardigan, now that I think about it. The yarn is a relatively robust wool that will be fine being frogged and reused, and knitting it gave me more experience with finishing a whole sweater. My various fuckups taught me things about both knitting and my personal taste.

I guess it could be demotivating because it took a while, but on that bigass needle, it really didn't take that long. I would probably always have knit multiple sweaters from this pattern. I see more than one in my future anyway.

Experience was an issue here, but it wasn't experience with the literal act of knitting. My tension was fine. It was more that I fucked around and found out.

--

Example 3:

I made a self-drafted BTS sweater out of another batch of used yarn that I'll never get more of. I love the body. the sleeves are too tight in the upper arm, and my bizarre-ass design for the top of the body means that the sweater wants to be a boat neck but also fit differently in the sleeves and... gaaaaah. The tight sleeves don't feel bad, but what they do do is make the whole sleeve slide down my arm weirdly because of the fit issues around the boat neck.

Part of why the upper arm area is so tight is that I was worried I'd run out of yarn (which I did) and I wanted a balloon sleeve rather than a straight one. The yarn is so stiff that the balloon part is weird, and the two other purple yarns I added for the lower sleeve look weird. I should have reversed their order because one matches too well, and now it just looks like I ran out and had to add a last inch in a random other yarn. I have most of those two skeins left hanging around and a sweater that fits strangely.

Also... it needs hand washing but is shaped and sized to be worn against bare skin, so it gets stinky after a few hours of wear because I am a sweaty, sweaty person.

In this case, I wouldn't redo the body: this silk blend will look less nice after frogging, and I already roughed it up a lot knitting the damn thing the first time. I knit it starting at the top, so the weird fit across the shoulders is mostly here to stay.

However, I'm pretty sure the bad fit on the sleeves can be fixed by ripping back and adding a bunch of width up top. I can also start with the flowier other two yarns and maybe have bands of this stiffer one that I used in the body. I suspect the weird body fit is fixable by changing what the sleeves are supposed to be doing.

This is another case of fucking around and finding out, so I'm not too disappointed in it. I did wear it to Yoongi's concert too, and it was gorgeous, if too hot.

I do realize now that I hate boat necks, but I think I can put up with this one if the sleeves aren't constantly sliding out of place.

And if fixing the sleeves doesn't rescue this, I might attempt some surgery one of these days, but that's more of a pain in the ass, so that will definitely have to wait.

--

Now, my guess is that your "kind of shit" is not "I freehanded a sweater two seconds after getting back into knitting because I'm a crazy person, and I messed up the shaping".

The more common problems are things like:

Not realizing that you should block or not blocking aggressively enough, so your stitches look way more uneven than they need to, the shape is weird compared to the example pics in the pattern, etc.

Using assy bind-offs so the edge looks amateur instead of polished. (You can go back and fix this.)

Failing to swatch, and now you've knit the wrong size.

Picking a fiber that just cannot do what you want it to—usually seen in people trying to avoid wool and not getting that 99.999999% of trendy patterns are written specifically for wool. I have an ancient sweater from college that looks nothing like the example in the book because all I could afford was big box store acrylic. Never again the plastic horror!

Buying patterns from a size 0 lifestyle blogger aspirational knitwear designer with no boobs and a great photographer, then feeling dumpy when trying the thing on under crappy lighting. This one usually requires a little more self confidence and some bust darts.

Making things in plain stockinette in a light color and smooth yarn like cotton that shows EVERY SINGLE TIME your tension wasn't machinelike. This is unfixable. Don't do this.

--

If you're using mohair or alpaca, frogging may be more trouble than it's worth, but you often can reuse the materials. Granted, you've still sunk that time in, but the materials don't always have to be wasted. That might help it feel more like time you spent practicing and less like a complete disaster.

I'm a very product-focused knitter, so I don't really have practice pieces. I'm knitting to have a Thing and I want to wear that Thing, so I get the disappointment if you don't end up wanting to actually use what you've made.

But that also helps me not get totally demotivated. I still want that Thing and now I have a clearer idea how to make it.

So... what are these "kinda shit" projects anyway? What about them do you not like?

[grahstumhurts]

3. "The Cutest pair"

Cheerleader!Megan x Loser Band member! Reader

A/N - Lowk "the cutest pair" by Regina song vibes but not exactly.

Wednesday comes fast, One moment you're hanging out at Megan's house, The other you're suddenly at a cheer practice which you never saw yourself at till you reconciled with Megan.  You're sitting on the bleachers, Megan’s letterman laid over your shoulders as you scroll on your phone. It feels performative, While on one hand for years and years you only pined for her. But now that you have her, Kind of, it's conflicting. It's not real, But damn do you wish it was. You hope part of her, wishes it’s real too.

“Hey” Megan yells from the grassy field, Giving you her signature puppy eyed smile. It melts a cold spot of resentment in your heart. “Come down, we are gonna go get food.” She blows you a kiss, Her friends giggle at her antics as they collect their things. You race down the steps into her wide open arms. Her scent lingering with her perfume and now combined with sweat.

“Hi, Megs” You kiss her sweaty cheek. “Gross your all sweaty, Go change.” 

“What? you don't like it?” She rubs her arms on you, Her friends whisper from the side, glancing between the two of you.

“What so you two are like, Actually dating?” Her friend Anya waves her finger around, gesturing at you.

“I thought I told you I was seeing Yn?” Megan slips her arms off your shoulders, Looking confused.

“I thought that it was just for us to stop setting you up with Greg. He really likes you,” Another one, whose name you don't know, comments.

“Just because Greg is Quinn’s brother doesn't mean I'm going to like him. He's clapped if anything, and not my type.” Megan sighs, rubbing her forehead in distress.

“Plus I am very happy with my current situation right now.” she wraps an arm around your waist to pull you into a side hug.

“I'm gonna head home, i'll talk to you guys later” She collects the last of her things and shoves them into her duffle bag, You follow behind her closely. As you pass her “So-Called” friends, you glare at them on your way out.

“Your strong for that, you know?” You bump shoulders with her while walking to your car, she leans against the hood. 

“You wanna come over to mine or just go to your house?” You grasp her hand into yours, rubbing your thumb in between the ridge between her forefinger and thumb, Trying to soothe some of her nerves. 

“I dont wanna go home just yet,” She looks down at her feet, her bags next to her shoes.

“So?” You question the meaning behind that.

“Honestly just wanna be somewhere with you,”

“Oh,” She fidgets with her fingers,

“Unless you have somewhere to be tonight, Totally fine if you do.” She gives you a grin to hide some of the hurt from this afternoon.

“I don't,” You pause. Thinking about things to do, for just the two of you. “Why don't we go to my house, Pick up some food and go for a picnic tonight?”

“Really?” The thought of being alone with her, at the park, on a blanket, Just looking at the stars. It doesn't frighten you somehow. As much as it seemed like dating her would be a dream when you had a crush on her, its not as scary as you made it out to be previously. You two hop in the car and head off to your house,

“You wanna make a pit stop at the grocery store for some snacks?” You grip the wheel with one hand, The other holding hers. She nods,

“I wanna get some Fox’s Jam’n cream, They are so good.” You chuckle at her, "I've been so obsessed with them recently"

“Well let's not get too excited, This grocery store is kinda limited at times.” You pull into the store parking lot. 

-

“Ohhh! I used to eat these all the time after school as a kid” You pull out one of your favourite snacks, A packet of seaweed rice crackers (A/N Yes those are actually my favourites)

“I remember, You would never share with me.” She snickers, Remembering the times as kids you two shared. “I used to get so mad cause i shared my snacks with you”

“Fair enough, Kid me was kind of a bitch.”

“Kind of? Understatement” Megan coughs out the other half of her sentence. You shove her shoulder, giggling.

“Your laughs really pretty” She blurts out. When she realises what she says her face turns red.

“Thanks, Meg.” Your face feels hot when her words settle in your brain.

 She thinks your laugh is pretty. 

Your laugh is pretty. 

Is pretty. 

Pretty. 

You two silently shove more snacks into the cart, adding in some drinks along the way. The silence isn't uncomfortable, Like it used to be. But usually before she would fill the gaps in conversation with funny thoughts that pop in her mind. It's more relaxed, one could say that the two of you look like you’ve been dating for years. The silence is warm and it smells of citrus and vanilla.

(A/n if your perfume is vanilla scented just pretend that its whatever your scent is)

[bloodnikki]

Ekko loves Jinx. He loves every side of her even if he can’t get the name right. He wonders why it’s a struggle to accept her as Jinx until she’s gone and it hits him.

Guilt. It’s guilt that made him unable to let go. It’s guilt for his people. If he accepted as Jinx, and loved her anyway, he would’ve been a failure to them. He wouldn’t have been able to look them in the eyes as he fought to protect them.

Powder’s still in there was code for I’m not a bad person for wanting her. It maybe why he was so angry he wouldn’t let him call her that. Jinx wanted him to remember her crimes. Jinx needed him to see her for who she was.

He gets why she stayed with Silco. He was an awful man but at least he cared for her enough to respect the person she wanted to be. Ekko had been ashamed to love her.

‘Hey, I know we were meant to have this big talk after the battle but I can’t. I’m tired of talking. We run around in circles. Powder, Powder you say and I say I’m Jinx and you give those big eyes and I feel shitty for being me and you feel shitty because I’m me. I can’t do that. So, I’m just gonna listen to Silco. I’m going to end the cycle. He came to me the other day talking about being brave enough to end cycles or some nonsense. He talks too much. I guess it’s finally time I listen. Kinda owe him one time seeing as I killed him.

Ekko, do you ever wonder what we could’ve been? I do. Not all the time. I’m not that crazy but I do. It reminds me of how fucked and jinxed I am and your stupid big eyes and I just can’t do this anymore. It would’ve been easier if you just killed me.

So, no big talk. Instead, I’m ending the cycle. I’m going to this place I heard about from Vander when he was still kicking around. Maybe if we met there things would’ve been different.’

Ekko.hates when he finds the letter stuffed in his things at the lab. He thinks how he thinks of it as their lab but it’s not. It’s all hers and she’s gone. Vi said she didn’t make it. He cries for what feels like hours. He leaves and can’t will himself back to their shared space.

He misses her so much. Everything reminds him of her. His feet take him back to their lab and he’s ready to mourn her all over again when he sees a letter that wasn’t there before. In large pink ink, the top read She Lives.

He flicks it open and the first lines make him chuckle. ‘I just can’t seem to die. So, the world is stuck with me. The world is stuck with me but that doesn’t mean I have to be stuck here. I doubt you’d like to come with. I’m scared you’d say no. So, I’ve gone on ahead. I’m going to check out this place here. If I miss you, which let’s face it, you most likely aren’t gonna come, I’ll leave a note on where I’ll head next. It’ll be like a game.’

Ekko hates how excited he is she’s alive. He hates the idea of not telling Vi or anyone. He tells Scar though. Ekko’s packing a bag and he tells Scar “she made it. I’m going. Things are covered here and ya got this and I’m going and-“

“Good. Go.” Scar understands. “Come back once you both are ready.”

“I… thanks.”

Ekko follows behind her. Some stops, he knows he just missed her. Everyone tells him stories about her and he reads her letters. He cries some nights looking them over. She leaves a photo behind for him. The back reads ‘look at me! I’m finally putting on some pounds. Maybe I’ll finally grow boobs.’ She looks beautiful.

Their messages are a one way street. She can talk to him but he can’t talk to her. It must be justice for all the times he shut her out when he wanted to speak to Powder and only got Jinx. Ekko buys a notebook on the way to the third town. He wants to write down his thoughts to share later with her.

It’s almost two years and he’s just missed her more times than he could count. He wonders if she’ll ever slow down enough to let him catch her. From her letters, it sounds like she’s scared he isn’t coming. He hates that she’s no faith in him. Of course he’s coming. He loves her.

It finally happens. He finally sees her in person and there’s no way she’s getting away, unless she runs. He really hopes she doesn’t run.

“Ekko.”

And that’s it. He’s never letting her out of sight again.

[tristomisto]

I didn’t know how much I needed Jonathan Sims to ridicule my decision making skill.

This game felt like a dream come true and was so my vibe, I can’t wait to find all the branching paths but man those endings…

Spoilers from my playthrough and the game’s ending below

TW: Some Gore talk

So my goal was to be as non-violent as possible (almost always choosing to leave the dagger), and while it’s likely you can get this dialogue anyway, it made me weak.

To have a divine entity tell me “you have a gentle heart” when I told it I didn’t want to hurt it anymore. Floored me.

The game also captivated me in the way the voices worked. Because it’s the same way I hear voices in my head. They don’t have control over me, (unlike the game) I know they are fictional and they are more of a nuisance then anything. They just pop in and out to say their piece, even if I don’t want to hear it. I prefer to think of it as my conscience trying to get through to me in a different way.

Any way back to the game, I made a save right before confronting the narrator and got to see most of the endings (I think).

My first was getting back to the cabin with the Voice of the Hero. I left the dagger upstairs to go to the Princess and figure out what happens next. I always asked for her name, and never got one other than then what the entity called itself, The Shifting Mound.

But the Princess gave me a name, she called me Quiet (due to you actually being a god called the Long Quiet, which was a really cool twist). I found the nickname adorable, so in my head I started calling her Shift. My choice, as always was ever the peaceful option.

I told her we could just leave, and she trusted me. I thanked the Voice of the Hero, who stayed behind to look for the others when we decided to leave. Then together, the Princess and I opened the door, and we’re left to interpret what happens next. I think this is the “good” ending or at least mine.

I also love any ending in which the Princess is given agency. If you bring the dagger downstairs to her at the last scene, she offers to stab you with it. Doing so will reset everything back to the beginning of the game, in the hope that things will be different the next go around and the world won’t end. And even if it isn’t, at least they will find each other here at this moment again and again, and both make the same decision.

I love this ending, especially due to the explore options before taking it. I remember saying something along the lines of “I’ll miss you.” And she says I won’t have to, because when I come back, she’ll be right there waiting for me, even if she doesn’t remember.

I also quite enjoyed the endings of becoming gods together. While it’s still good, I think arguably the ending I personally don’t like is the Narrator’s want which is slaying the princess at the end.

In terms of individual branching paths, I love the spectre ending where you let the princess possess you as a ghost, the “hey killer” really got to me. The one where she becomes like a demon girl and just wants to fight is really funny until it gets really sad.

I was also cooked from the beginning because my first path when she started to gnaw her arm off, it unnerved me for a few seconds before I was like “well if I was trapped with no way out I’d probably end like this too.” Then the huge puppy dog eyes she has whenever you’re helping her remove her arm.

Overall 10/10 I love this game so much, and having Jonathan sims as all the voices in my head was a real treat. Will get all the achievements eventually!

And the first romance ending was so funny because I hear Archivist Jonathan Sims narrating with a bunch “ews” the whole time. IM SORRY JON IF I MEET AN ENTITY I WILL GREET IT WITH LOVE AND UNDERSTANDING. I know she started to gnaw off her own arm but I get it!!!

[wjbs-bonkle-au]

Hey you. You're new here, right? Well, I've been here all my life, and I know all about this backwater rock, as well as all the awful stuff that's happened here. For instance, let me tell you about... the Karzahni Embargo.

Few hundred years ago, some factory owner - can't remember her name - decided that sendin' her employees to Karzahni to be repaired was slowin' production too much, so she brought in the finest engineers from across the universe to figure out a way of keepin' her employees workin' in the event one of 'em got injured.

Now one of these inventors, a Ko-Matoran from the Northern Continent, he walks into the boardroom to present his idea, and the factory owner clearly likes what she sees, as she immediately greenlights it. It wasn't until a few weeks later that it became known to the public what this idea was; whenever a Matoran was injured, rather than being sent to Karzahni, they were taken away and... "fixed". I am usin' that term very loosely. Limbs gettin' replaced with tools, spines bein' patched up with control device... even organs bein' ripped out and replaced with mechanical equivalents.

Now, you'd probably expect the Xian council to immediately shut the factory down and immediately send the... "fixed" workers away for repairs. But remember, this is Xia. Instead, every member of the council immediately adopted this practise for their businesses. And then the lower-rankin' companies did the same. And so on, and so on, until it reached the companies that couldn't afford the implants.

That's when Glaivonn comes in. If you somehow haven't heard of him yet, I'm surprised. His company owns this entire district. He's one of those Titans from the Southern Continent, y'know them, they're the ones who name themselves after their favourite weapons. And as you can tell, Glaivonn really likes glaives. So much so that his company almost exclusively makes them. Or at least, used to. See, a factory fulla blades doesn't sound very safe, and naturally there's a lot of workplace injuries.

One day, after comin' back from a trip to the... "scenic" Tren Krom Peninsula, one of Glaivonn's assistants updates him on what's been goin' on while he was away, and when ol' Glaivy hears about the worker "repairs" and how less well-off companies can afford them, he gets a very messed-up idea; he starts makin' cheap, lower-quality implants, and sells them to the factories that can't afford the good stuff. This goes very well. For Glaivonn I mean; not the workers. I once met a Matoran from a low-grade mask forge who had her entire left arm and part of her lung damaged in a Protodermis spill, and the replacements were on the brink of fallin' apart.

But not only does Glaivonn make the parts cheap; he makes them for other species, too. Now, for non-Matoran, Karzahni isn't really a concern; if a Bruiser or Vortixx gets injured, then they have to retire, or buy a new limb if they can afford it. But now a Bruiser getting their arm torn off in a crusher ain't a guarantee of retirement. Just drag 'em round the back, bolt a grabber-claw onto the stump, reinforce the spine, and now you've got a super-worker who can't quit their job.

You're probably wonderin' why this is called the Karzahni Embargo. Luckily for you, you're about to find out! So it turns out that Glaivonn had connections to the Xian council, and he managed to pull some strings to get them to ban all transfers to Karzahni. You may think this sounds good, and in theory it was since the Matoran wouldn't disappear forever, but this also meant that now, any company that couldn't afford even the cheaper implants would eventually be forced to shut down. Xia hasn't sent a Matoran to Karzahni for centuries, and they probably won't continue doing so any time soon.

Now then, is there anythin' else you want to know about? Next story won't be free. Let's say... 8 Widgets.

[post-story notes section]

The thing about Axonn's species naming themselves after weapons is a reference to this post.

Also this story takes place about a week before Teridax took over the Matoran Universe.

Honestly I like to imagine that Xia is actually more cyberpunk that Metru Nui. Like there are giant Blade Runner-style holograms advertising the latest ridiculous weapons the Vortixx have come up with, and basically-hovercars flying between buildings, and a "luxury district"* where all the company-owners and stuff live, with like Matoran and Steltian Bruiser servants and stuff.

*which will come up in a future post

[clowndensation]

shiv nation sound off. how we feeling.

[gingerswagfreckles]

Literally when was the last time that even one single post about feminism that wasn't a criticism of feminism got any traction at all. Like. 2015 maybe?

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

I am exhausted, good heavens.

[lionblaze03-2]

sometimes I think about writing and singing music not because I’m an incredible singer but because no one has my fucking voice, especially in popular music, and its disheartening to be born a girl, told you’ll only get girl roles or try to voice match other girls, or ‘sing with the girls’ and then only be able to match male voices because you’re a fuckin tenor and not anything higher. I can’t think of any girl Broadway roles I can hit all the notes on. Most songs I love I have to pitch down for myself or use falsetto for singing along to. It bothers me a lot less now because I’m an adult who’s more secure in myself but as a teen in kids musical theatre it FUCKED with me, BAD style. And I know for a fact that even now when I hear people with a voice like mine singing I get excited and immediately invested in their work because they’re like ME, finally, for once. A brother in this world of being afab and having the voice of a recently pubescent boy forever. Maybe I should be that brother too.

[perenlop]

i get the frustration with so many villains now getting treatment like “oh they had a sucky childhood so actually you need to feel bad for them and not hold them accountable for their actions” but the counter of “this person was born evil and cant ever grow and its pathetic to assume that they can, also people cant be redeemed no matter what and this is fantastic writing actually” is so exhausting.