#and i can't just not do the things i truly want to do with my life because i'm SCARED

[infamous-if]

May 2025

Happy May! It's my favorite month because it's my birthday month and I'm one of those annoying people who treat their birthday like it's a national holiday (sorry)(yes im a gemini). I'm turning MC's age (26) so that's cool. I will now be auditioning for a big reality tv show pls watch out for it and vote for me.

I am CONFIDENT chatper 4 will be done in may. It's written. I just had a lot of logistical things i needed to work out. Plus I made a mistake in the earlier chapters that i didnt realize about until it came to bite me while writing this chapter (i fixed it). I have been doing a lot of moving around and even had to move my outline around—the same outline i barely rearrange—in preparation for the upcoming chapters. I've kinda been all over the place with this chapter because now things are happening. like actual things. real things. and im trying to prepare myself so im not a mess later. (ive learned from past experience). There are some things in chapter 4 that don't see a solution until later and it has me screaming. (i like instant gratification and this is the opposite of that)

But it is my favorite chapter. I'm really happy with how it turned out.

Something happens in this chapter that can go many ways which is why this chapter feels longer. Not only because of the Challenge but because of how this Challenge pans out. I think what this character and this week does will surprise some, maybe not others. But I'm excited to see the reactions of *that* anyway. heh.

I realized with every update the stats are my biggest problem and i realized it's because they don't feel like they're representing what i want them to represent. personality stats being measured in the story and will still influence flavor text so that hasn't changed but i've reworked the stat page to hone in on what truly matters in the story. for example, i made the attached/detached stat visible in the "band" part of the stat page. I've also added a Castmate/Competitor stat that ive always measured but i've renamed it and made it visible. That felt like something I didn't want to keep hidden. Stuff like that. You'll see it in the next update. All of this in preparation for the rest of the story.

This sounds like a huge change but it's not haha. I've just streamlined it so it better suits the story.

Yeah! This, like the other chapters, is a biggun. But I'm happy and proud of myself.

I've been asked again and i want to reiterate that patreon gets everything first, band tier and then fan tier and then to the public. The Seven POV should be up tomorrow.

Thanks guys! Can't wait to release Chapter 4 :)

[strawberrystepmom]

dante x f!reader. established relationship, a minor disagreement that ends up in hurt/comfort. | wc: 1.4k, reading time: ~5 minutes

“I’m coming with you.”

Your remark is firm while you practically chase after Dante who slumps down in the chair behind his desk for the briefest moment, pulling equipment from the drawers of his desk and putting it into his pockets. 

“No, you’re not.”

It irritates you how he won’t even look up, preoccupied with getting out of here. Your jaw slackens, eyes narrowing.

“Why not?”

Now he looks up, his own teeth clenched. 

“Because I’ve said no ten times and meant it every one.” 

He hates fighting with you. In fact, he hates telling you no about anything and you’re all too well aware of it judging by the way you seem to think you can wear his defenses down into a yes right now. 

Disengaging by looking down, he loads a few bullets into his guns which further irritates you. 

There’s no such thing as a truly unexpected job in his line of work. He gets calls at all hours of the day or night sometimes, reporting to wherever he needs to be to take care of business, but you don’t understand why he won’t let you come. It’s midday and he’s clearly playing coy about the threat level of whatever is out there meaning there may be a need for help.

Laughing sarcastically, you stand in place in front of his desk. 

“It amazes me how you are never this serious about a no until it has to do with what I want.”

Whipping his head upward so fast his hair falls out of place against his forehead, the man you love more than any other curls his lip and points all five of his fingers toward you, eyes wide.

“And it amazes me that you’ve never bothered to wonder why I'm so serious about it. How many times have we had this exact conversation?" 

There has never been a time where he’s raised his voice at you and he has no plans of starting now but you are seriously testing his patience. 

You fold your arms across your torso and raise your brows adversarially high. "I wish you’d just admit it’s because you think I'm weak and can't protect myself. Your little liability."

Finally, you push Dante to the point of a frustrated, humorless chuckle punctures the tense air of the room. You flinch in place, averting your eyes from him to other corners of the room that seem a lot easier to look at. Walls don't have eyes that pierce to your very soul the way his are right now, feeling them even if you don't see them.

"Will you please stop thinking the worst about me? I know better than anyone you can take care of yourself." 

He scoffs, another ironic chuckle following it. 

"In fact, this isn’t even about you. Have you ever thought for even a second that I keep you away from my jobs because I don't know what I would do if something happened to you? That nobody does?" 

You look up and he looks directly at you, brows furrowed. 

"Yeah, I've been called out about it before. By Trish and Lady and everyone who has ever seen the way I am when it comes to you." He shakes his head, rising from his seat behind the desk, reaching across it and grabbing your trembling hands. "They’ve all had the same thing to say about how you can't be around because my focus becomes keeping you safe."

He looks away from you, retreating to somewhere distant in his mind. 

"I catch myself thinking about a world without you sometimes and it's dark and heavy and...and I know I couldn't do it if I didn't have you."

"Do what?"

"Any of this.” He waves his hand around the waiting room of Devil May Cry dramatically. “Exist."

"Dante..." 

You click your tongue, chest aching at his words. They’re well meant but even the faintest insinuation of him stumbling into the bad shape he was when you first met makes you feel hollow.

"I mean it, sweetheart. You could come up with a hundred arguments and probably already have but I wish you wouldn't waste your time arguing with me about what the truth is. It’s not that you're weak, it's that I'm weak for you."

Now you feel like a real problem, pouting like a little girl while he airs out the truth. “Stop it.”

“No, you stop. Let me tell you how I feel and maybe, just maybe, actually listen to me for once.”

Pushing your fists against your eyes, you take a deep breath and allow the pressure of your knuckles to keep the levy holding back your tears from breaking. You probably look as pathetic as you feel standing there like this, shoulders slumped inward and breaths coming in staggered pants. 

Merciful man that he is, Dante never lets you suffer for long. 

You hear his footsteps round his desk in the  same pattern you memorized a long time ago, his warm arms coming to cradle you even if you won’t look at him. Your body naturally leans against his chest, fists pressed against his shirt, face hidden. 

“You’ve made me a man, not just someone pretending to be half one.” He unburies your face to kiss the tip of your nose, pulling you against his chest to bury your head beneath his scruffy chin. “And you’re one thing I wanna keep safe forever because of it. Is that so wrong?”

Shaking your head no, you sigh in lighthearted defeat. How can you put up a fight, especially when he is safely nestling his beating heart in your hand? You protect it, he protects you. 

It’s not all that bad of a deal when you really think about it. 

“You’re starting to give me a stomach ache,” you joke, lifting yourself up on the tips of your toes to kiss him. It’s a little brush of lips against lips, far less searing then how you usually approach. 

Still, it says everything. The pair of you remain locked together - two bodies and one shared soul - refusing to part even to continue the conversation. 

“Sorry for thinking the worst.” 

Your apology is only slightly muffled, mashed between his mouth and yours. He parts his lips to reply but chooses to kiss you instead, tongue dipping between lips he could not successfully exist without. You’ve given his world more than color, you’ve breathed life into every last corner of it. The least he can do is tell you so once in a while. 

Smiling against your lips, he stops for a breath and backs away enough to look down at you. 

“Let me know next time that happens so I can get ahead of it, okay?”  

A lighthearted reminder, sealed with another small kiss. The tension in the room gradually soothes itself, minute by passing minute. The safety of his arms even improves your mood slightly, your fists pressed against the center of his chest rather than over your eyes. 

“Please stay behind and let me come home to you in one piece.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you fight the urge to insist you need to continue fighting for your place in his life. He’s telling you clearly that you’ve earned it. 

“Alright,” you acquiesce, raising yourself up on tippy toes to kiss him again. 

Opening your mouth to continue speaking he shoots you a look, not venomous or dangerous, but serious. He doesn’t wanna argue about this again. 

You lean into him, big eyes staring. “Fine, God, okay. But you need to call me as soon as you’re done because I don’t know what I’d do without you either and cannot think about it so please don’t make me.”

Dante nods, chuckling. 

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Later on, after you’re less emotional and he’s home safe and sound, you’ll admit he’s right. You’ll mutter against his hair that he’s not merely a good man but the best one for thinking of you the way he does and that you constantly question if you deserve it or not. He’ll whisper to you that nobody has ever deserved it more, rocking you gently until you fall into a fitful sleep and leaving him awake for a little longer. 

Only then will he find himself alone enough to silently thank whatever force brought you, this stubborn, beautiful woman, into his life to save him. He’ll insist to this same force that he’s only making up for lost time by protecting you from danger to begin with. 

It happens every time.

[4aceclover]

In my humble opinion I always thought that Sun Heart was Marc and Rain Piercer was Nathaniel

(I also love the ending and how they basically acknowledge and address how LGBTQ+ people are literally attacked for no good reason, (just because they love who they love or for merely existing). It's even worse because they're kids, so this was probably their first time ever dealing with something like this, because everyone around them has been so supportive. So to actively have to experience the hate LGBTQ+ people go through every day just for existing it must have been a real shock to them)

And to everyone out there saying that this was a bad idea I beg to differ, The only two people who can't know each other's identities are Ladybug and Cat Noir and as long as nobody on the outside of their team learns their identities they should be fine

(Remember Luka knows too.)

Everyone wants to say that this is very similar to ephemeral but do we all seem to conveniently forget that Alia and nino also share these kinds of secrets with one another. When they got their identities revealed Yes it was out of their control but when Alia became Rena Fertive she later on told nino the truth she didn't keep that secret from him

(Plus when Marinette has that conversation with Alia about telling nino about her second role she doesn't get angry at her she understands why she did it, she trusts her friends with these miraculouses you really think she didn't expect them to do something like this, Heck everyone knows Alix's identity even Lila herself)

This might seem bad on the surface but in reality this is not a bad thing for these two to do

The only reason why Nathaniel even reveals himself in the first place was because he didn't want Marc to worry about him, because he could tell based off that comment "I don't want you throwing yourself into danger for me cuz you're not a superhero" that he was worried and he didn't want to worry his boyfriend That's how you know they really love each other

Are you seriously going to tell me that Rose and Julica wouldn't have done the same thing or what about Ivan and Milan

It's not their fault as the story foreshadowed this ending anyway they shouldn't have to lose their powers because of their love after all the original ending was foreshadowing this ending the entire time

(I understand why people thought this was about Marinette Adrian but no this was about them)

They didn't make a mistake here I actually wholeheartedly agree with this choice of theirs. The only thing we should be concerned about isn't them revealing their identities but Lila taking an interest in Nathaniel in the first place because if she's taking an interest in one of our heroes (like Gabe did To Luka) then that's what we should be worried about not them revealing their identities this was going to happen sooner or later

As Rena Rouge and Carapace showed us if you truly love someone you don't hide these kinds of secrets from them

Today is a great day to be a fan of Marc and Nathaniel

[ruinix]

can dark quinn fuck reader while she's asleep?

Lovely, hey there. So. Um.. dark!quinn...just a lil thot, okay? 😶‍🌫️🫣 First, lil confession, I wanna be claimed just like that y'know. Yes, I am a whore. Anyway...this is more of a ramble. My head is a mess. Also...don't ask if it's gotten too long. This did not happen.

Don't come for me. This is truly dark. You've been warned.

Whore thoughts. Dark. Deranged behavior. Somnophilia. Non-con. Drugging. Manipulation. This is dark, y'all. Dark. Dark!!! ⬇️⬇️⬇️

You were always a heavy sleeper. Sure, you had trouble sleeping, but once you were out, you were out. Quinn knew that. He would be a bad boyfriend if he didn't.

Afterall, he was the one who always woke up first for his early practice, the one who tried to pry your vice-like grip every time, the one who tried banging the cabinets during the morning to make sure, to constantly test your sleep. The one who touched your pussy through your panties until your arousal slicked it, until soft moans escaped your lips.

Then came the problem. You would rouse, stirring then slowly wake up, before he could make you come, before he could further his debauchery. Fucking always.

You would be so confused, too sleep-drunk, too innocent that you would just assume Quinn's cuddling you.

Even for so long, you never put two and two together. Not a clue with his touches. With his lack of care that he never asked for your consent through these acts. Well, why would he need such a thing when he owned you? Every single fiber of your being was his.

Your body that could no longer reach the heights of an orgasm without his touch. The number of times you came running towards him with tears of frustration in your eyes because no matter what you do--no matter what toy or technique--you couldn't come. The number of times you called him whining while he was on a road trip because you got so horny, yet you couldn't do a single fucking thing to help yourself.

Your mind that couldn't choose anything for yourself. Always seeking his opinion. Before, you would just go out with your friends whenever you like. Now, you preferred staying home just because Quinn planted seeds of doubt about your friends not being good for you, about them only using you because of how sweet you were, which were all not false. They were using you to get to him. You were so naive to see through their elaborate trap, so Quinn easily manipulated the circumstances that you had to break off the friendships. You didn't need them anyway. Not when you have him.

Not all of your friends were using you though. Some were good. Too good, too fucking nosy, trying to get you to see how twisted he was. Quinn can't have that, so he got rid of them too. Threats. Blackmail. He did it all, making you think they just dropped you, which made you more needy for his company.

Your soul that sang with his. So bright and innocent when you stared at hum like he hung the moon. So adorable when he fucked you so hard that he left you sore for days with bruises painting your neck, your hips, your thighs, and everywhere else. Still, you looked at him with heart-shaped eyes.

You've been such a perfect girl to love, fuck, and manipulate. So perfect, really. Except you kept waking up when it was about to be more interesting. When he was about to consume you in a different fucking level. When all he wanted was for you to come around him while you were still in dream-fucking-land. Was that too much of an ask?

So, Quinn moved.

He took his time researching things that would keep you asleep. He acted like a damned insomniac, going to a shrink and telling him he needed something to help him sleep, expertly twisting the truth, emphasizing he needed something to get him to sleep throughout the night. It was so easy. One trip to the pharmacy, he got his prescription along with bottles of melatonin and magnesium.

Getting you to drink the supplements was simple. Your eyes were twinkling as you take it as him being concerned with you. You happily take them. No questions. Not a single doubt or concern. You just take and take. Everything he gave you.

Quinn was always patient. Always bidding his time. He won't use his supposed prescription yet. Touching and testing if the supplements were enough. They were not. Therefore, he used them, telling you he saw a better additional supplement.

He waited and waited for your protest, even a question on what the fuck it is because one would normally ask, but alas, you said:

"Okay."

Then you grinned at him with such innocence that Quinn wondered how on earth did you survived this cruel world. No matter. He was here to keep you safe from anything else but him. He loved the pureness you offer. So pure that he must corrupt.

He watched. Within minutes, you were out like a light. Your body was in a supine position under the blankets, your chest moving with your every breath. Like a princess. His very own sleeping beauty.

One tug, the sheets were off. He could see the goosebumps on your skin, your nipples hardening under your silk night gown. He ran his hands over your thighs, spreading them, pushing the fabric up and up and up, exposing your lace panties. Slowly, he touches your clothed pussy, feeling along your folds, teasing your clit down to your entrance and back up.

Soft. You were so soft and getting so drenched. The need to smell you overtook him, not giving a shit anymore if the drug would actually keep you asleep. He just hooked one thigh over his shoulder, pressing his nose on your pussy and smelled your feminine musk. So divine as he started to lick over the lace.

Just one taste and he lost it. Like a feral beast who had not eaten for days, he licked and sucked and nipped, almost laughing as he heard your little whines, preening at how your hips jerked so slightly. Then he stared right at your face, waiting for you to wake but you didn't. Fuck yes.

He could barely think straight anymore. He tore your panties, slapping his cock against your quivering pussy, rubbing himself on you until he was coated by your arousal as his pre-cum dripped down his length. The way your thighs twitched, your eyebrows frowning, your barely there 'hmmm'. Everything etched in his brain. As he slowly sank his cock into your pulsing heat.

He fucked you slowly. Every thrust was full and deep. Your tits moved, bouncing, luring him in for a taste, so he indulged. Using his teeth to tug the neckline of your nightgown then he sucked your pebbled peak. One by one. he could feel your walls spasming for a mini orgasm. So adorable.

Your troubled moans filled his brain. He could basically feel your body trying to wake up, could feel the dream your mind was showing you. He was also fucking you in your dream, wasn't he? How hard was he going? Were the pathetic sounds coming out of you supposed to be your pleas to fuck you harder?

He supposed they were. What else could they be? You were always such a slut. It must be maddening for you not to get what you wanted.

"I know, my love. I know," he whispered in your ear, groaning when your pussy squeezed so tight around him that he almost came. "Let's take our time, okay? Fuck. We got the whole night."

It didn't matter to Quinn if he had to wake up for a morning skate. He would take his fucking time. He was already so fucking confident that his team would win. They always seemed to win whenever he touched you during your sleep. Now that he was fucking you, maybe it could be an easy victory. Fuck, he hoped it would be. Even if they lose, there was no way he wouldn't do this again.

Languidly, he rolled his hips as his hands gripped your hips wider, opening you up.

Then he started to get rougher. His hips bucking into you to claim you brutally. He wanted you to be so confused about why you're so sore in the morning, wanted you to feel so horrified about the new kiss marks he was leaving all over your chest, your collarbone, your neck. He wanted to see you panic when you see the handprint bruises on your thighs.

Those images of you all rattled and horrified filled his mind. He couldn't stop smiling as he pressed down your lower abdomen, his thumb softly rubbing circles around your clit until you come so hard, your lips parting, yet you didn't wake up. He kept whispering praises into your ear, chuckling at the little sniffles coming out of you because he wouldn't stop his thrusts, wouldn't stop playing with your sensitive clit.

"Give me another one, my Love. Just one. Then we'll stop," he teased into your lips, kissing you without care even if you didn't kiss back. It was exactly how he wanted. Just you in the palm of his hands. Just you being fucked by him because he could. Just like his very own sex toy. "I promise."

He lied and lied and lied.

He wouldn't stop.

Why would he?

He could only grip your skin, short nails digging into your tender flesh. When you came again, he did too, spurting deep into your pussy, kissing and licking your neck, praising you over and over again. He took his time to recover. Then he would do it again and again. The same fucking lie would escape his lips.

His sweat would drip down your sweaty body. His cum would be pooling under your ass. Your pussy would be red and raw from overuse. Your skin would be marked by bruises already darkening, reddening. He would be so greedy at the sight of you not waking up. Totally under his mercy. The night wouldn't be over, yet he was already planning the next time to do this.

He tried to stop at least. He was getting too exhausted after a couple of hours of partaking you. Hell, he almost fainted after he came so hard, but he couldn't. He needed more and more. He could only turn you both sideways, lazily fucking into you. His cum would already become too watery, too diluted, too spent.

He would only stop when he could no longer give you anything. Still, he couldn't be satiated. He would crawl down your body to start cleaning you with his tongue. Tasting the mix of your cum and his. Smelling what he has done. It was all so divine.

He did his best with the clean-up. He replaced your nightgown and panties, wiped away the sweat. Even managed to change the fucking sheets with his shaky legs.

After tucking you in with his arms around you, he passed out. Only to wake up the next fucking hour. It was time to fucking work.

Work he did, grinning and laughing to himself when you called midday, sobbing because your body fucking ached.

Sorry. This is nothing but a figment of your imagination, i fear. I didn't write this. The parasites in my head did. They were having a protest because I was reading an extremely wholesome romance fantasy book. They needed something dark so they took over my keyboard. 🤧😔

-> more thoughts? List.

[ohbo-ohno]

unironically the best thing about writing fanfic is writing what YOU want. i read a sapphic romance with a butch who was not nearly butch enough for my tastes so i started working on a wip with a really butchy butch. i wanted something sweet with katniss discovering she's covey and was disappointed i couldn't find a fic like that and then i remembered.... i can just write it. 90% of the porn i write is just what i think is hot

truly i just write what i want to see more of, which is why i really just... cannot understand using ai to write fic. it's plagiarism, it's bad for the environment, but also the computer can't give you what you want. only YOU know what you want, and the computer can't read your mind to pick out all the little details you want to read. you can put in a million different wordings of the same prompt and you're never going to get exactly what you want. just pick up a pen and do it yourself

[thehigherseekerastro]

I said it once, and I'll say it twice (I actually said it multiple times)...

Be careful what your read on this site or hear on TikTok.

None of those "angry astrologers" is doing you any service.

Be CAREFUL WITH YOUR ENERGY. Careful what — WHO — you allow into your mind.

Those "Harsh astrology opinions", "Roasting astrology placements", "Honest astrology opinions", "Calling out astrology placements" etc

and all variations of astrology posts that just spew hateful things about people, that generalize things, that accuse people of being things with certainty based on an astrology placement and, specially, that offend, curse, insult people based on astrology placements ARE NOT DONE OUT OF GOOD CHARACTER OR INTENT.

Anybody worth half their weight, anybody who takes astrology seriously, would not reduce anyone to something so small, because they understand that a birth chart is huge and full of tiny little details that paint very individual pictures.

People who perpetuate stereotypes, and generalize things WITHOUT LOOKING AT YOUR BIRTH CHART, shouldn't be telling you who you are (or other people) in an "honest" way!

"Honest" according to WHO?

Saying that insulting others is being "honest" implies that the person thinks kindness is a lie. RED FLAG!!!! Means they don't believe good things — specially about themselves — and they want you feeling that way too.

Notice how the astrologers on here who actually make good, informative, substantial content are never the hateful ones; are never the angry "honest" "harsh" ones. The ones who make good material are usually either on the neutral side, or very gentle and kind.

And that is not out of fakeness. It's because those people actually understand that what you say to others matters and affects their energy. And also they understand that once you know the extension of a birth chart, you can't be reducing people to "Libras are fake", "Sagittarius are arrogant", "Pisces are manipulative."

I'm sorry, who died and made them the zodiac police?

A fake Libra CAN exist, but that's a very specific, unique person. I can't go online and type out that Libras are fake, and make every single Libra who comes across my post wonder why and how they are fake, if they aren't.

People who don't know you don't get to talk about you as if they did.

Long story short...

When you see those posts, just scroll past them.

Don't give them your time or your energy.

And don't let them enter your mind either.

Realize that the person writing those hasn't even learned to truly love themselves, so they won't be able to provide you with anything nourishing.

And 12/10 times those people use those "innocent" and "honest" posts to spill out their own personal hatred and grievances with the people who they are criticizing. So I bet you a Sagittarius hurt the person making a "harsh" posts about how all Sagittarius suck. I bet you a Virgo hurt somebody making a "calling out" post in which they lay it into Virgo placements.

It's just bitterness.

Have a good, safe, blessed day, and don't put onto others what you wouldn't want put on yourself. ❤️

[hanaybuns]

Some official arts that I like

(Aka I’m tired of studying and need a good yap)

First off, they’re so so cute in this pic. Really does give “family photo” vibes and it’s very sweet. Love that they’re all hugging each other, except Jyushi who just has to be different. Very small detail but I like that Kara is hugging oso over the shoulder, which just feels more characteristic to him. This is a "wow 6 is a lot of people" kind of official art for me.

The props? The poses? The colors? The vibes? Obsessed. This art takes place in the incredibly unlikely scenario in which the neets are invited to a hot person pool party. I love their swimsuits, especially karamatsu’s. Like truly this is the quintessential karamatsu fit, they try to convince us that he doesn’t know how to dress but imo he looks the best here. I also feel like we don’t see Kara in sparkles much after season 1, so I’m happy. Love tottys phone protector too, it’s the little details that make these official arts great. This art is also very fan servicy, which is also a plus.

I know that the stands of these are meant to be sold separately, but I really like it when their poses are dynamic enough that they can overlay them and make it feel cohesive. Their onesies are very cute, also I love love love when the artists add blushies to their cheeks. But my fav part of this official art is how fed up karamatsu looks. Like I know intellectually that he’s supposed to be smirking (bc all of the merch has him smirking) but it does NOT look like that here. Especially because his eyes don’t have highlights. It looks like him and Jyushi are not quite convinced. Exclusivematsu at his finest.

YES YES YEEEESSSSS I LOVE THE GIRLYMATSUS. I never talk about it but I love them and their catty trashy friend group. They look soooo good here. I really like when they make choromatsu (choroko here) have a downturned smile, it’s so cute and froggy. Also it’s really funny to me that the Matsuno family emblem is absolutely plastered everywhere, even though it has no significance to them whatsoever. Just love their fits in general. I feel like they could’ve just given them sexy and/or moe dresses but we got shorts, pantaloons, skirts, dresses, the whole 9 yards. The ososan art team has always been great with outfit diversity.

I like one or two things about each of these. For the first I like the fact that we’re actually seeing Kara create his clothing in real time by massacring a jean jacket. For the second I NEED to know what choro is reading. Like jyushi has clearly caught him reading something embarrassing and is teasing (bullying) him about it, which is very funny to me. but it's too blurry so i can't tell what he's reading. For the third, very rare and sweet moment where ichimatsu seems pleased to receive something from kara. Also why is the cake like that? it looks like they took bites out of it directly. Why.

Couple things. Love that they only gave choro the blushies, they love moefying him. I have a whole theory about this, but notice how choro has very natural moe qualities in this art but totty is intentionally making a cute pose? It’s bc they don’t know what to do with totty. his brand is cute… but he’s not moe. I plan to expand on this in the future. Also, sometimes I feel like they don’t know what to do with jyushi. Because they want him to be weird and zany, but in stuff like this he can’t deviate too far from the other bros poses. So he ends up looks kinda awkward. Like this is a very dad/uncle pose. also kara's pose... no comment

but yeah i actually had a bunch more i wanted to talk about but this post is so long already so i'll stop here

[itoshirinnn]

thinking

about how when shamura says bonds (chains) must be forged in godly matters they refer to both the bishops' blood but also narinder's. look at his robes, the red in the middle that starts at his throat and trails down, as if his throat had been cut not necessarily to kill but to make him bleed as much as possible

in the game, the god of death cannot die. the only time the player is in actual risk of "dying" (permadeleting a save file) is when they have 0 followers for two days. the solution to this is to recuit TWO followers minimum. guess who narinder has by his side in the afterlife.

TWO followers, given to him by shamura. they said they didn't want narinder to be lonely. But exactly why would narinder be lonely if he was "swelling with devotion" ? and forneus never says when her kits were taken, just that they were a gift to "the one they loved the most." by "they" it is heavily implied that she's referring to shamura. still, I don't think shamura meant to gift them to narinder out of malice. i truly think he did not wish for him to be lonely.

now, what does narinder say about baal and aym?

intended as KEEPERS??? why would narinder interpret them as keepers, if they were gifted to him before he was imprisoned? maybe he thought shamura was distrustful of him from the start. but even then, if they were already his loyal followers by that point, why wouldn't they be chained? they're completely free to move. Not to mention, look at their eyes. reminds you of something??

DISSENTING FOLLOWERS. all four bishops and their respective minibosses have black scleras and red irises. the only characters / enemies who have similar eyes to baal and aym are the witnesses, that I theorize are old enemies sealed away by the bishops that rise after the death of their capturer. (and barbatos but like. they're the only miniboss who has those eyes so I don't count them) Maybe shamura sent them to narinder under the guise of "keepers," knowing that narinder would guide them. Notice what he says. "Must I be blamed for my influence?"

Narinder says it was here that they cast the chains that bound him (ignore kallamar's joy I have no clue why he's so happy here?) meaning it's here that they probably fought. The monument says the same. "Here did death no longer wish to wait." this obviously refers to narinder. The one who waits could no longer bear to wait, and he put his and the other bishop's reigns in peril trying to expand his domain. shamura feared narinder would grow too greedy and held a council of war with the others.

Narinder struck at them, supposedly second. They knowingly attempted to kill (bound) their brother, just like cain and abel, and were punished for it. See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil, think no evil. narinder was punished too, relegated to the afterlife, destined to be forgotten, to rot. my theory is that shamura gave him baal and aym afterward. they loved him the most, to the point where their brother being forgotten, truly dying, was so unbearable that they gifted him two young followers under the guise of "keepers."

also think about kallamar and how he can't bear to see narinder. We know that kallamar is the second oldest, and that he's aware of his cowardice.

"... of course, it could not last forever. Perhaps my siblings did not understand this, but I have always known."

"It did not make me less afraid. Cowardly Kallamar, ha..."

"So many things I did not wish to hear... Narinder's foolish plans."

"When Shamura told us what we must do to ensure our survival... I did not wish to hear that, either."

"And yet I was a willing conspirator. Cowardly Kallamar."

shamura tells us this.

I think shamura set aside their fear of losing their brother and the love they held for him, to save themselves and their other siblings in case narinder betrayed them. kallamar did not. he was cowardly, he did not wish to hear narinder's heresy or shamura's plans, even knowing their happiness would not last.

side note, narinder's speeches to you after beating each bishop are the longest when he talks about kallamar and shamura. This could also be because he knows the lamb for longer at that point, but I do truly think that he couldn't bear to resent his youngest siblings enough to blatantly insult them like how did to kallamar and shamura.

not to mention heket's dialogue. she blames the red crown, never her older brother. when she does refer to him, she calls him a monster who will not be satisfied until all four of them are felled. she never names him. she grieves, laments about how they were happy once, all together.

narinder's dialogue about leshy is the shortest. maybe it's because they didn't know each other well, since leshy was so young, but leshy is directly stated to not have known about the plan, at least not completely. I don't think narinder resents him as much as the other because of that. leshy even calls the lamb an unworthy bearer of the crown. he doesn't insult narinder, he simply calls him "the chained one."

shamura deems you an unworthy bearer of the crown if you bow to them: "I am disappointed, I admit. I thought my brother had better… taste."

if you do not bow: "A lion in the guise of a Lamb. I expected no less from a vessel of the Red Crown. Very well. War is also my domain."

shamura is also the most outwardly resentful of mortals. "He wanted to open the doors between Life and Death, to... to allow their return. Those mere... mortals." they were the oldest, but also the most prideful, even more so than heket, who is the only other bishop who commands you to bow, and has similar dialogue to shamura. but if you do not bow, she does not compliment you like shamura does, instead she demands you to bow again, which shows her immaturity.

if you bow: "Ha! Cowardly vermin. You disgust me." if you do not bow: "You will bow, or I will make you!"

another side note about heket:

"There is no justice in this world."

"No matter how... how loudly you demand... urge... beg..."

she tells you this after you give her relic back. this is purely headcanoning now, but perhaps she had her throat torn out by narinder because he could not bear to hear her beg.

TL;DR: narinder was so, so loved. my doomed siblings 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[ceoandslutler]

do you have any idea what that stare rodney gave o!c's cane and shoes was about? i'm totally stumped on it and can't find anybody speaking about it unless i'm blind and my tl is bare cos i'm not following the right people, and i thought maybe i was related to sizing up sebas' efforts as a servant but i don't know... it's just a very condescending look period like why the side eye... ungaggggg...

AHHH I THINK I KNOW WHY

i have been thinking about it a lot recently actually.

WHY DID RODNEY STARE AT CIEL IN CHAPTER 214?

the glaring is directed towards ciel's accessories, his shoes and his cane. not ciel himself.

every time these features specifically were focused on, it is to remind us ciel is a child. for example chapter 2, the old man calls ciel a child while delivering the cane.

his demeanour towards joker/doll completely changes once he's dressed. joker sardonically points out that ciel truly is a noble once ciel is dressed and acts like a noble and doll doesn't initially even believe o!ciel is lord phantomhive bc she's so used to his circus disguise.

elizabeth's big character moment in the campania points out o!ciel's attire as aiming to look older.

when he runs towards sebastian in the green witch arc, at the end of his run when he finally screams sebastian's name, he's adorned with...

his hat and heels (but no cane, he's running lol)

honestly? i think these panels are supposed to be showing us how these things make ciel who he is (his identity) for example art book 4 has these cool collages which represent sebastian and ciel.

o!ciel's includes his eyepatch (contract), his earrings (scars of that night- his ear was pierced to put a price on him), his ring (his family/role as watchdog), a teacup (ties in with the teapot on sebs side) and honey (symbolising his night terrors/on going trauma)... but there's also his cane, hat and shoes- all of which he has on right now in the story. it's interesting, while sebastian has his knife and fork, ciel doesn't have his gun. instead, it is his clothes—these are what he uses as "weapons" so to speak. with them, he appears older and visibly seen as nobility. his front to protect himself.

while for sebs it's his gloves (contract), his watch (which can symbolise a lot of things actually... mainly that his time as sebastian the butler is finite. eventually it will run out), his head butler pin (his role as butler, it used to be tanaka's and we know how important it is thanks to the murder arc), the teapot (maybe to match the teacup, he is serving the tea after all), a cat (akin to the honey on ciel's side, it is what brings him comfort, as seen by his response to see one after he was kicked out of the music hall by blavat)... and finally the knife and fork which are his weapons.

ciel's identity/weaponry/relationship with sebastian are intrinsically tied to the clothes he wears. rodney looking at it implies that he will challenge ciel's identity, weaken him or aim to cause the deterioration of his relationship/contract with sebastian.

other possible reasons is simply to show how much the hotel personalises the experience of each guest (by examining them closely), foreshadowing how creepy rodney will be towards o!ciel, etc...

OR HE COULD BE WONDERING WHY THEY'RE BRAND NEW!!!

sebastian ordered a full set!! unprovoked, without being asked to. it's a "i believe in you" moment, akin to the public school arc one:

sebastian always sends an order off to nina whenever he wants to express genuine support for ciel. but rodney doesn't know that. we also don't know how he managed to make good on the bill, he either used his own pocket money (which we know he has since he gave some to finny in one of the earlier chapters in volume 2, i believe)

or he managed to convince nina that o!ciel will pay her later (which is equally possible). whatever he did, he got a fugitive good-quality clothes from his usual tailor; rodney might be curious about that.

i hope this helped, anon 💜🩶

[nexstage]

“You know, I’ve never considered humans consistent enough with their words and actions. But you, kid. You seem to be the exception what with this sudden attachment to your brother. I mean, can't you see how happy he is?” The MultiFace, an amalgamation of voices and faces in one solid mass, showcased in front of Ford a big, old, and slightly cracked mirror. Inside there was Stan, followed by a multitude of fans as they asked him for autographs. He signed lots of them before entering his car, or a new more modern version of it, where his wife and children were waiting.

“This is just a sick illusion to keep him from reality after tricking him!!”

“Tricking him?” the MultiFace tilted its position because, well, they don't have a head. “Why would I trick someone who has accepted such a harsh truth? I may hate humans, but I'm not a bloodthirsty psychopath.”

Now Ford was the one who couldn't understand. “What truth are you talking about?”

MultiFace’s mouths and snouts grinned creepily. Ford’d hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and a shiver coursed through his body. “That his ‘family’ never loved him.”

Ok, NO! Absolutely no! That’s bullshit!

“That’s bullshit!! Of course, we love him.”

The thousands of eyebrows of MultiFace raised, and they hummed, unimpressed. Ford fought hard the urge of hiding his hands. He felt judged. Like a kid who thought that had given the right answer to the teacher but instead had made a fool of themself without knowing.

The MultiFace got unnervingly closer to Ford; he stepped back, ready to attack, but his body felt paralyzed by all the eyes of different colors and sizes that scrutinized him. “Tell me, ‘genius’,” the creature spat the last word with a cruel sarcasm. “Would a person that truly believes their family loves them accept to be replaced by one of my changelings and live their life as someone else?”

Ford opened his mouth but nothing came out for the MultiFace interrupted him, “Would a person that says ‘I love you’ to another one not recognize said person and distinguish them from an imposter?”

“W-What’s are you getting at?” He asked, his voice trembling just like his logic for it warned him of the answer, and answer he didn’t want to believe was true.

“Ok, Mr. PhD Master, I’ll dumb it out for you. Your twin has finally realized he was never loved and your ‘family’ has finally shown their true colors. But hey! Everyone is happy! He’s in another reality where he’s loved and those putrid liars you call relatives have the version of Stanley they have always wanted. You even got your apology!”

“At the cost of my twin! Stanley—!”

“DON’T YOU DARE TO MAKE THIS ABOUT YOURSELF!!!” The MultiFace roared with such potency that it pushed Ford to the ground. “YOU KNOW WHAT I HATE THE MOST ABOUT HUMANS YOU LITTLE, SHITTY SCUM?!!! THAT YOU PIN ANYTHING ON YOURSELVES AS LONG AS THAT BENEFITS YOU!! THE BLAME, THE CREDIT, THE ACCOMPLISHMENTS, ANYTHING!! YOUR BROTHER IS HAPPY BUT THE MOMENT THIS RUBS IN YOUR FACE YOUR OWN SHORTCOMINGS, YOU GO WAAA WAAAA LIKE A FUCKING BABY BECAUSE YOU CAN’T OWN UP TO YOUR GUILT LIKE A MAN!!!”

Ford got up, ignoring the survival instinct to run away from the eldritch beast before him. “You don’t know us. We love Stanley. I love him! I even realized he wasn’t talking to me but one of your offsprings!”

“Oh yes, congrats,” their condescending tone boiled Ford’s blood. “You are the exception in your rotten excuse of a family. What should I give you? A medal?”

“Give me my brother back. Return him to reality!”

“I said you were the exception in your ‘family’, but I never said that you were the exception with making things about yourself.”

“That’s nonsense! This is not about me!”

“Really? Let’s see, I do what you want and then what? What do you think will happen with your brother? You might free yourself from your own guilt and pat yourself on the back, but Stanley will be once again in a reality where he is a nobody, a screw up. Oh! What about when he finds out that his own ‘family’ never realized they weren’t talking to him but to one of my changelings and liked it much more? How can you heal a heart that has proved to oneself that their loved ones never cared about him, that their relationship with them was so shallow that their own ‘family’ failed to distinguish the real them from an imposter?”

The moment Ford was about to say ‘I’ll find a way to fix that’ never came because, and he hated to admit it, the level of emotional and psychological damage that would cause was beyond his expertise.

Did Stan really thought that low of himself? That even a replacement could do better than him and get the approval and acceptance of everyone? Did this start when he was kicked out or much before? Did Stanley’s trust on their family’s love was so fragile as to think he was better of replaced?

Here is an idea for a GF fic that my friend and I came up with which I'm not sure I'm gonna do anything with.

***

Ford calls his mom shortly before a family reunion that he's not sure about attending (given that he usually doesn't). Caryn joyfully tells him that Stan, who no one's really heard from in a while, is also gonna be coming for the first time since he was kicked out. And Ford is... well, he doesn't know how to feel about it. If anything, he is surprised. The first time Stan didn't try reaching out on their birthday and then on other family holidays, he kinda saw it as confirmation that heis brother really didn't want to come back and apologize. Family reunions never felt the same afterwards, so Ford just stopped coming. Now though... well, it's just strange and very unexpected. But a small part of him that he desperately tries to push down is hopeful that maybe Stan will finally apologize and perhaps they will at least be on speaking terms again.

So, against better judgement, Ford does go. And Stan is there, just like his mom said he would be. He seems to be doing well for himself, just like Ford thought he would, exuding confidence and chatting with people. What's strange is that their father is one of those people. Because Stan has never been so calm when speaking to him, and it's unbelievable to see, especially after all that has happened. Their father seems to have picked up on the confidence, something that he's always wanted his sons to exhibit, so maybe that, along with how well off Stan seems to be, may explain his change of attitude. Stan, however...

Eventually, Ford finally talks to him. It starts with an apology, a surprisingly straightforward one too: no averted eyes or nervous hand movements, no hasty explanations or excuses. In a way, that's all Ford has wanted: a straightforward genuine apology, an admission of guilt. But somehow that also feels entirely wrong, like someone playing the part of his brother in a play, doing it well, but only as well as someone reading from a script could. That's when Ford gets the creeping thought that whatever's in front of him is something that's pretending to be his brother.

Of course, at first he tries to write it off as just him being paranoid, especially seeing how the rest of the family doesn't seem to think anything's off. And, after all, it has almost been ten years. But the more he watches, the more he notices the numerous small inconsistencies, like all the mannerisms he clearly remembers from years ago being completely gone.

At last, Ford can't bear it anymore, so he decides to use something that is extremely personal (and painful) to both of them: their childhood dream. He casually comes up to Stan and starts a conversation. Eventually, Ford brings it up and Stan's reaction is something along the lines of "Well, that was just stupid, wasn't it? I mean, it's a childish dream, something we did to pass the time, but it could never work. Sometimes you just have to outgrow things like that, you know. I wish I had just done it sooner, rather than later". And it's so utterly wrong it's straight up uncanny. Like, of course, Ford did choose to pursue his own aspirations instead. Maybe Stan could find other things to do too, that's believable. But this doesn't mean the dream no longer matters, and for Stan out of all the people to talk about it like it doesn't and hasn't ever...

So, right then and there, Ford decides that, whoever he is talking to is not his brother. And thus he sets out on a mission to find out whatever happened and, most importantly, where Stanley actually is.

***

Or alternatively, Stan somehow stumbles upon some sort of mind reading supernatural creatures who pretty much push him to make a wish. That wish is kinda contradictory in itself, more so two of his deep wants combined: Stan wants his family to accept him and love him again, but he also wants to stop being himself, Stanley Pines, the homeless grifter and the screw up.

The solution to this problem is: a sort of magical clone of Stan is created, which is designed to, while mainly relying on Stan's own memories, act in a way that will make the people he cares about like him. Overtime, the copy will correct its mistakes and become more and more like the real thing, and Stan will forget who he is, which would free him of all his regrets and let him begin life anew.

The flaw with all of that? Stan severely underestimated how much his twin actually cares and how much he's willing to do for him.

***

I have no idea how this would actually go or work and neither does my friend. A rescue mission, a lot of upsetting realizations, that's for sure. Anyway, I like this idea too much to just let it quietly perish in our imaginations. So I'm putting it into yours too lol

[laur-rants]

Ko-Fi Memberships, Shop, is now Open! Help Fund my Dreams and make them Reality

For those who don't want a long read: I am finally opening up monthly Memberships on my Ko-Fi, as well as offering up high-resolution prints of some of my art for download! My goals in 2025 are to work on not one, but TWO new children's books, one fully written and illustrated by yours truly. Join today and get news on my book updates and any other original work I may be working on.

Become a Member Here || Shop Here

I plan on providing monthly updates for members, and it's all available in a single, comprehensive tier: the $3 Noodle Tier. The Noodle Tier currently gives access to updates and to my discord with a special role. Nothing fancy, just the privilege of watching my work come to life.

It's a very small price monthly to simply help keep me above water in these trying times. And that includes NO AI: All made by me, with words by people, and drawings from life.

Thank you everyone who supports, and has followed me for so long on this journey!

Now for the long part lol

I don't talk about this a lot, but for many years, I have feared (rejected) the idea of a Patreon. Mostly because, I would see what artists were doing, fulfilling orders and burning themselves out on a monthly basis. I never saw what I was doing as worth that. I never believed I would be able to keep promises, and I don't like making promises I can't keep.

But over the years, my tune has been changing. I have realized I can simply ask for support, and in doing so, that support can help me do what I want to do, as opposed to what I think I need to be doing, and in turn, be able to produce more. I also have been changing my tune because after so long, I have finally realized: I cannot make what I want to make, alone.

May is my birthday month, and what I would really like for my birthday more than anything, is a little more financial security to help my pursue the things I would love to do with my life and my time. I chose Ko-fi because I trust it more than I do Patreon, and it gives me far more freedom and flexibility with how I can approach my customers.

What is the first thing I would like to share with my members? Information on what I want to do most right now: Starting on not one, but TWO children's books -- one centered on a very special borzoi named Jack and his story, and one based on my own two dogs, Strudel and Zill. This support will also help fund any other smaller projects I would like to work on, including paintings, prints, editing, learning Blender, and more.

For now, the tiers will unlock sketches and works in progress on pages as they are illustrated and painted. Some of the final images will be available for preview there, but not all of them, for the sake of the book. As work progresses, you'll learn firsthand on any ideas for kickstarters or crowdfunding campaigns, to make one or both of these books happen.

Once again, thank you to everyone always for your support! Whether it is through commissions, monthly subscriptions, my twitch subs, or just general moral support of being there for me, I can't thank you enough. This sort of support is very difficult for me to do, I never have felt like I had enough to give. But finally, I have a goal and a direction I want to move. Thank you to everyone who is helping me move that way, and making my longtime dreams, a reality.

Until next time! I will see you then. Please feel free to share!

[njade-24]

AND I PRESENT TO THE WORLD MY BELOVED STRAWBERRY COOKIE IN MY AU CALLED

Baked with Blood!

I am once again thanking my number one enabler @jazaspen4, I would not have went this far without prompting.

Strawberry Cookie was not made with actual strawberries, only the flavoring. This, for her, was a great source of shame. One that she could not even make up for with her immense physical strength. If only she could come to understand that her yummy strawberry scent is one of the many reasons her friends and family love her, and that they would always love her regardless!

Strawberry cookie is not a fighter. She can and will fight if need be. She is strong and fast, and though Gingerbrave outclasses her in stamina, that does not mean hers is anything to scoff at. Strawberry cookie was the strongest by far amongst her siblings when it came to physical strength. Something that is proved by how quick and agile she is while dragging around her massive lollipop.

Still, she'd rather avoid conflict in general. The main reason is to avoid hurting other cookies in general. However, it's also because she is forced to use up her fragance to keep up if a fight takes too long. She was baked by a Witch, so she is fortunate enough that her flavouring will replenish itself on its own over time, and consuming strawberry flavoured items helps speed this up as well. Another reason for her lollipop is to avoid running out of her fragance when in the middle of a fight. She doesn't know what will happen if she does run out, neither her or her siblings truly want to find out.

Strawberry Cookie thus opts to keep as much as her flavor close to herself and to stay quiet and quick on her feet. She uses her fragance in quick short burst, avoiding hits and disappearing out of the enemy's line of sight before striking fast and hard. Losing sight of her in battle is a mistake.

The trio were all baked within the same year, and Strawberry Cookie is the second oldest. The dough used to make her was actually leftover dough used to bake cookies with actual strawberries, the Witch ran out of strawberries and though she disliked the artificial fragance of strawberry cookies, she did not want to waste dough. This means that Strawberry Cookie and her magical lollipop are made of the same magic syrup! Yay! Fun!

Not so fun! The Witch added life powder to this batch to make up for the artificial fragance, the reason why Strawberry was born at all. Strawberry Cookie fell off the plate as soon as the Witch set it down on the table, gaining awareness as she remained hidden by the edges and forced to remain quiet as she wept while she heard the crunches and snaps of her batch mates being devoured all while the Witch mourned this being a waste of dough and that magical artificial fragance did not compare to the real thing even with life powder and extra sugar added to it, and that it was an even bigger waste considering they were baked just right.

Strawberry Cookie was quick to scurry away at the first oppurtunity, forcing her fragance to cling to her dough and running as fast as she could.

And there you have our little berry's origin!

I will get into her dynamic with the group after I'm done drawing them! I especially can't wait to go into the group's dynamic with Dark Echantress Cookie, the Ancients, the Beasts, and especially Pure Vanilla Cookie because in this AU he officially adopts them, no I don't make the rules. Actually, yes, I do, so they are getting adopted!

I will post the first chapter of the fic as soon as I am done with drawing the other two! This way at least guarantees a fixed posting schedule for a while!

[bellysoupset]

Indigested

"Where the hell do you think you're going dressed like this?" Lucas asked in a sharp, false, tone and caused Bella's dark auburn brows to meet in an upset frown.

"Wherever the hell I want?" She bit back just as sharply, only to blush as she saw his amused smile, "oh, you're joking."

"Yeah, I'm joking," Luke snorted, reaching so he could grab her studded waist and pulling her close so he could kiss her, "you look amazing."

"Thanks," Bella beamed at the compliment, smoothing her hands over his chest, "you don't look too bad yourself," she gave him one more kiss, before cupping his face so she could wipe the dark red stain from his mouth, "they're almost here, Teddy texted ten minutes ago."

"Alright, remind me of their names?"

"Teddy, he's chubby and looks like a teddy bear, you're really not gonna miss it," Bella explained, checking all the trays of food for their dinner party. After the disaster that had been the Superbowl, she was extremely worried about food poisoning for a second time. Once again they had ordered the food, but now from a different place and Luke had taste tested everything in a valiant show of courage, hours before, "Melissa is the one with the pink braids and Vader has the piercings."

"They sound like band kids," Luke chuckled, wrapping his arms around her from behind, "I'm gonna dial up the charm."

"Dial it down, Atwood," Bella scoffed, leaning against his embrace, "you're already too damn charming for your own good, lower that shit down."

"Can't do," he pressed a kiss to her cheek, just as the doorbell rang.

Luke had been spot on the money about the band kids description, all of Bella's coworkers, whom he knew by name but had never met until now, looked like band kids. They were all alt, which didn't surprise him, considering Bell was clad in her most vampiric outfit and fitting right in with the gang. He was the one who stood out like a sore thumb.

"Oh lalala Bell, this place is gorgeous," Teddy said, holding a black bag with a wine bottle inside of it. Truly, couldn't people think of housewarming gifts that weren't wine? They had a full collection by now and neither of them drank it.

"It is my pride and joy," Bella had a bright smile on as she gestured for her friends to come in, not even trying to be humble, "and this is Luke," she latched on his arm, "Lucas, Teddy, Mel and Vader."

He shook all of their hands, all smiles and letting the pokes of fun wash over him. Teddy calling him the "famous Lou" and Vader squinting at him in a suspicious manner. Introverts, Luke thought with a snort, wrapping an arm around Bell's waist and guiding their guests into the dining room.

---------------

Luke was an extrovert. He fed on people's energy, a night out with friends was how he relaxed, not staying home and staring at a TV. Even if he was bookworm, he didn't enjoy sitting alone in a room to read, but would rather go busy places like a park or a coffee shop, or the best option, have Bella draped on him, so at least he felt like it was a shared activity.

Nevertheless, even he couldn't deny that the best part of a dinner party was the debrief that followed. Rehashing the night's moments and sharing gossip over tea with Bella had to be one of his favorite things in life.

So Bella was entirely justified as she threw her arms around his shoulders, from behind, and pressed a kiss to his cheek, pouting at how quiet he had turned, "you didn't have fun?"

"Hmm," Luke shook his head, wrinkling his nose, "I did, it was great. Your colleagues are funny..."

His wife let out a huff, her breath smelling like chocolate cake, nose pressed to his temple, "you're acting weird... You got super quiet there at the end, Luke."

He leaned his head back, so it met Bella's shoulder and winced, "it wasn't the company," Luke explained, smiling as she turned to look at him, so close their noses nearly brushed, "dinner's not agreeing with me."

"Oh," Bell's eyes widened and he leaned in, stealing a kiss and causing her to splutter and giggle, "LuKE!" she rolled her eyes in a fond manner, then pulled back enough to give him an once over, "dinner's kicking your ass?"

"Oh yeah," he squirmed on the dining room chair, he had only gotten up long enough to see his guests out. The dishes were still on the table, a whole mess to be dealt with, "big time."

"Aye, poor baby," Bell teased him, softly, stroking his hair back, "let's get you out of these clothes, it can't be comfortable."

It wasn't, not at all, and Luke was more than happy to let Bell undress him as he pulled him to his feet and up the stairs. His legs felt heavy, whole body focused on the throbbing in his midsection. He hadn't eaten more than his normal share, but he felt stuffed and lethargic, as if his stomach was pulsing.

Bella hadn't quite gotten the memo, pushing him on the bed and sitting on his lap. He couldn't blame her, it wouldn't be the first time he overdid it at dinner and decided he was still well enough to fool around.

"C'mere," she captured his lips with hers, kissing him slowly, fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt. Luke winced, the way her thighs circled his middle was far from comfortable, squeezing him.

He grabbed her by the chin, pushing her back, "no, Bell, its actually hurting..." Luke grimaced as a cramp went through his packed belly. It felt like nothing was digesting, a congealed mess inside of him.

"Awn," Bella cooed, falling off his lap so she was on the bed and finishing removing his shirt, "better?"

It was a smidge better now that he couldn't feel it brushing against his sensitive stomach, but that was about it. When he didn't answer, Bell got to work on his trousers, undoing his belt and the fly of the pants, patting his thigh with an amused huff, "up, up, let me get this off you-" she tugged on the pants, pulling them fully out and Luke let out a little relieved sigh.

His stomach mimicked him, letting out a gross gurgle and Bell raised her eyebrows, clutching the pants balled up in her hands in a surprised manner, "that was your stomach?"

"Uhm, yeah," Luke scooted on the bed, so he could fall against the pillows and let out a deep breath, staring at the ceiling and planting a hand on his stomach. It felt warm to the touch, warmer than the rest of his body, and it was clearly upset. More gurgles followed, but he still didn't feel like anything was digesting, "fuck, you don't think its food poisoning, right?"

Bell paused at the bathroom door, she had already kicked off her heels and was holding a cotton ball to her eye, waiting for the dark makeup to melt under the cleanser, "no, Luke..." she frowned, "all five of us had the same stuff and we're fine. Besides, you weren't sick on the evening when you did the taste test..."

That was a sound argument. Luke grimaced as he felt a growl deep inside, dinner churning sluggishly, "I guess... Maybe I just ate too fast or something."

"Maybe it's gas," Bella was looking quite comical, one eye fully clean, the other one covered in glam makeup, "do you want some ginger ale? Or-" she yawned, "or pepto?"

"Ginger ale might help..." Luke felt like was sweating now, the pressure in his stomach going up a notch of uncomfortableness, "and a belly rub?"

"Uh-hum," Bell smiled at him, moving back inside the bathroom so she could wash her face, "let me just change and I'll get it for you."

She stripped down the velvet crimson dress and Luke let his head fall back, planting a hand on his stomach and trying to knead some digestion into it. Although he was being gentle, his belly felt tender to the touch and all he managed was to cause cramps to ripple through him, but not a single burp came up nor did it feel like his stomach was doing anything.

"Here," Bell crawled back on the bed, holding up a ginger ale can as well as the pepto pink bottle, "pick your poison."

Luke took the can, taking several gulps and feeling the pressure building in his chest, until he couldn't swallow anymore. He let out a groan, leaning forward so a burp would come up, but instead a hiccup shook his entire frame.

"That was cute," Bella chuckled, falling against the pillows and rubbing his naked back, legs tangled with the blankets, "hold your breath to stop the hiccups-"

Luke tried to hold it, but he didn't manage even a second before another deep hiccup caused him to jostle, his stomach contents jumping and acid licking his throat. He clutched at it, "ugh- Hurts..."

He couldn't quite breathe right, the ginger ale had pressurized his belly, but no burp was coming up. Bella let out a sigh, moving so she was sitting behind him and patting his back, "you're really pale, Luke..."

A small burp came up, as well as more acidic froth which he promptly swallowed. He cupped a hand over his lips, "it's just reflux-"

She thumped his back with enough force another wet burp rolled past his lips, deep from his stomach and bringing up a sliver of relief. Luke swallowed down the saliva accumulating in his mouth, whole body getting covered in goosebumps and a shudder running through him as dinner tried to come back with the burp.

"Ugh," he swallowed down, "don't thump that hard, feels like it's trying to come back up..."

"Lean back," Bell kissed his cheek and he obeyed, slotting himself against her shoulder, between her legs. The ginger's cold hands cupped his stomach and he winced, the upset organ continuing to throb and cramp.

"Careful, Bell, it hurts..."

"I know, I know, baby," she cooed, moving her hand in lazy, gentle circles, "you didn't eat enough to be this stuffed, what the hell..."

"Yeah, uhm-" he muffled a little burp against his hand, "bloated as fuck..."

She thumped the heel of her hand against his side, causing a nasty belch to roll up and some of the pressure to reduce. Bella wrinkled her nose, "gross, Atwood, don't burp on my face..."

"What-" he smiled slightly, forcing up another little burp, with no heat behind it, still facing her, "I thought you loved all of me."

"You're such a prick," she planted her hand on his face, giggling and shoving it away, "this feels good...?" she rubbed under the swell of his stomach, right where it was pushing against his boxers, fingers pressing on his warm skin as if she was playing a piano.

"Uhm... Yeah, feels be-bEtuurop-" he turned his head quickly, letting out a large, frothy burp, "it's helping..."

"Alright," Bell yawned, focusing on the belly rub. She was really good at it, finding every single air pocket and slowly working her way around, gentle but firm. However while it helped with the awful pressure and the sensation he couldn't breathe, it really did nothing to how gross Luke was feeling.

Now his stomach was full on churning, letting out constant whines and growls, and his jaw felt heavy.

"Hold on, hold on," Lucas grabbed Bella's hand and she seemed to have completely zoned out, because she jerked at the touch, as if she was almost falling asleep, "stop."

"What- What is it?" Bell yawned, pulling back to look at him and then raising her eyebrows, "oh Luke, you're gonna be sick? You're all clammy..."

He shook his head, trying to swallow the spit accumulating in his mouth, but his throat refused it and he gagged.

"Yeah, okay," Bell scoffed, grabbing his arm, "up up up-" she ushered him out of the bed and Luke stumbled up, hugging his stomach. He felt a little dizzy with nausea and the following gag brought up a splash of semi digested food, which he forced back down.

"Almost there-" Bella was mumbling feverishly, pushing him inside their suite's bathroom. It was much bigger than in their old place, which was a good thing on most days, but meant more steps tonight and Luke whimpered, bracing against the sink.

"That's alright, I got you," Bell pushed his hangs back, opening the faucet and running her hand under it, rubbing her now humid and cold hands on his face to refreshen him, "shhh, take a deep breath-"

Luke jerked with another gag and planted a hand on the mirror in front of the sink, ducking his head as he spat a thick wave inside the bowl. His stomach churned at the gruesome sight and he wrapped the opposite arm around his belly, trying to keep his dinner down.

"Shhh, baby, that's alright," Bella was rubbing his naked back, nails brushing on his nape as she moved her hand up, "get it up, you'll feel better..."

It was like all his stomach needed was permission, because the next wave was much larger and caused him to curl up, whole body shaking with effort.

He lowered his head to the marble of the sink, blowing out a burp to the ground and breathing deeply as if he had just ran a marathon, while Bell washed off the mess from the bowl and kept a steadying hand on his elbow.

His stomach was still a mess. Everything was churning around and he felt nauseous as all hell, but no longer overfull like before. He shuddered again, leaning over the sink to spit and glaring at his reflection.

He looked awful. Hair slightly glued down to his forehead thanks to the cold sweat, no matter how much Bella had ran her fingers through it to keep it out of the way. Face ashen, lips almost vanishing from how pale they were. Bella was looking at him in a worried manner, big blue eyes the size of saucers, a hand still planted on his back.

"Lu?" she rubbed his arm, "are you done?"

Luke wrinkled his nose, frowning, "not sure..." his stomach let out a sickening growl and he spat in the bowl again, opening the faucet once more to wash his face and take a gulp of water. It helped with the horrible taste in his mouth, but landed in his belly all wrong, causing him to burp more frothy vomit back in the bowl.

"Alright," Bella was chewing on her lip, alarmed, "take your time..."

He coughed and washed his mouth once again, sniffling, "Urgh... I think- I think I'm done...?" it was supposed to be an affirmation, but didn't quite sound like it. Bell raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"You think?"

"Not sure," Luke grimaced, moving away from the sink so he could press his back against the cool tiled wall of the bathroom, "still feel nauseous as fuck... But not gonna throw up."

"Okay," Bella was inspecting him, seeming worried. She planted her hands on his cheek, then on his forehead, probably in search of a fever, but he was cold and clammy, "okay- I'll take the trash bin back to the room just in case and you can try some of the pepto. Maybe it'll work now."

"Maybe," he was exhausted. He yawned, protectively wrapping an arm around his middle and following his wife back to the room, "you'll keep giving me a belly rub...?"

Bella snorted, planting the bin down next to their bed and falling on it, gesturing for him to cuddle her, "yeah, duh. Of course."

[dw-flagler]

How about this?

Where there any instances on canon (or in a midlly divergent timeline) you could see a character second triggering who didn't canonically, and what do you think the resulting altered power would be like?

really interesting idea!

Very obvious answer though. Single most likely character to second trigger who didn't is lisa. I wouldn't go as far as to say she should have triggered, because I think that's too far and kind of accusatory but she absolutely could have second triggered during Speck and not for a second would I think it was out of character or unfitting. I mean it would have shattered the pacing but it would fit her character.

There is literally nothing anyone can do to lisa more truly agonizingly torturous than what happened to her in canon. Except for some dead dove fics by figures like Alotoaxolotls and even then it's still close.

The parahumans series is basically about lisa wilbourn triggering from watching her brother die and knowing she could have saved him and didn't and then watching that happen again. Twice.

I think the line "you couldn't have made it easy?" is maybe the single most heartbreaking line in the entire parahumans series for me. The whole pepper spray thing genuinely crushes me every time.

Close second is "this makes me feel really sorry for your dad, because I’m starting to get a sense of what you put him through." Not very pithy, though.

If lisa triggered during speck it probably would have been late, when lisa realizes that she can't be the one to translate for khepri. This is a fucking crushing moment for smugbug fans (platonic or otherwise) because it's truly the moment where lisa had nothing left of taylor (and her facade as the smartest one in the room fully shattered).

If you wanted to put it somewhere else for some reason, maybe you could put it at the point where taylor leaves the undersiders to join the protectorate, but gold morning is just better. Or worse? If both of those are out for some reason then you could look at my fanfic where taylor dies post-leviathan, but that's distinctly divergent from canon, where these other two would just be completely canon until lisa second triggers.

For her second-trigger powers, this I always had trouble with. I'm not sure, cause the problem is that a second trigger has to be powerful compared to a non-second trigger, but still at least a little limited, and if you take like any limits at all away from lisa she basically becomes a god in purple spandex. Practically omnipotent. And that's not very interesting to write, except as a "lisa stomps all of canon" thing I guess.

My first and most comprehensive idea is basically that you increase her capacity for power use, making it way less of a debate whether it's worth it to use her power (it almost always because the tradeoffs are far less significant) but you make it far more prone to misfires or unhelpful tangents, especially about how people around her are lying-to or betraying her! This basically shifts the debate lisa has from "should I use my power?" to "should I trust my power?" The idea being that her power is less reliable but she's necessarily more reliant on it.

The opposite is also a possibility, where her power basically becomes way more reliable and accurate, but she has way less capacity. So it's basically always reliable but she really has to consider whether or not it'd be worth it because she gets very little power use per day. So it's more reliable but she can't rely on it. This one is probably a more concrete upgrade compared to tattletale 1.0 than the machine gun approach to thinker powers.

Since lisa's first trigger is mainly about regret, I guess her second trigger would be mainly about what she regretted. Did she more regret not knowing more or not knowing better? Something like that.

The problem with these is that they're kind of conceptually boring.

A third idea some others have floated around is if she gets an ability to control who suffers the migraine, so she could make others around her suffer the brunt of the migraine instead of her. However, my main gripe with this is that it makes her even more comically powerful than the other two options. Not only is it a lisa without migraines, it's a lisa with a shaker effect to induce migraines in others!

I'm not actually sure which of these (or maybe a fourth option i had not even considered) is the best option.

tl;dr: ask a lisa expert. I dunno. get silvianorton on the horn

[milkkytxars]

Here's to a small theory I have of the Beast Cookies before Eternal Sugar's update, just in case it ruins it

Tldr: the beast cookies have never felt like real cookies and the ancients didn't fall bc they had a childhood lmao

My main theory on the beast cookies is that they're fundamentally different from every other cookie.

Like- they were made specifically to be holders of the souljams, they were born full grown up gods. You could say maybe they had the witches to look up to but that's still a stretch, the only one who has any actual hints at a relationship with the witches is Shadow Milk.

It's also probable that the composition of their very dough is different from others, to handle the strength required for the power of the soul jams, or just in general so yhey wouldn't crumble as easily even without them. Because otherwise why would the witches need to lock them up? Well, that's either because they wanted to spare them, because they actually loved their first creations and couldn't bring themselges to kill them. Or because their bodies can't be crumbled as easily as other cookies.

I mean, you see Shadow Milk detach his head on a whim, and that's on a body that Dark Enchantress made for him it's not even the original one. Assuming all of them can do stuff like that and it's not only illusory magic, then no wonder they had to be sealed.

Anyway, the main point here is that the beasts were made fundamentally different from other cookies. And not only that, their status as seconds to literal gods made it so other cookies were probably not treating them like...cookies

Think about it right the only depictions we get of how other beings treated the beast cookies was with outmost reverence, and if it wasn't that then it was with hatred because of greed or other things. They were never treated as actual people with feelings, and I think that's the beginning of their downfall.

I think this disconnect with what should've been their own kind is what started it all, because if others would've treated them with actual equal respect as they would other cookies, then the beasts wouldn't have been so disconnected with how cookies think and feel.

You can also see this being true maybe with how Shadow Milk has so many pictures of himself in the form of other cookies, even when the spire was under the illusion of the spire of knowledge. Maybe at first, those shapeshift forms were made so he could connect with others, fully be able to learn what it means to be a cookie and live like one, be treated as one.

In the end, they weren't treated like that, so they ended up playing god the entire time. And what happens when a mortal plays god? It gets to their head, and in most depictions of it, they get divine punishment. Which is what happened to the beasts.

I believe this also connects to why the ancients didn't fall into the same thing as the beasts and are never truly going to, even when they're set on the exact same path as their counterparts.

It's because, one way or another, they are intrinsically different from the beasts simply by the fact that they grew up in the cookie world as normal cookies. They learned humility, and they *earned* their place in their kingdoms and their reputation. They also earned their souljams, for they were not created simply as a means for the things to work or to guide cookies- they *chose* to guide and lead cookies, nobody had to make them do that. You could argue that the souljams did, but White Lily never formed a kingdom like the others, even when it's clear that she could very easily find people to rule over if she put her mind to it.

The most important thing with the ancients is that, even with their duties and feelings, they're free. More specifically, they're free from the expectations of the witches. And even with the expectations of other cookies, it's still not as bad as it was with the beast cookies when they were virtues, simply by the fact that the ancients aren't paragons sent by the gods like they were.

So no, the ancients are never going to end up like the beasts (at least not permanently) (or at least in my theory lol)

[foreverabby]

18+ smut.

Abby sexting is honestly the sweetest and simultaneously hottest thing to ever exist.

Because at first, she's so bad at initiating it. We're talking comically bad. This girl paces her apartment typing and deleting messages left and right. She's always been better at writing things down but for some reason, learning how to excite you over the phone feels intimidating. But once she trusts you, once she feels truly comfortable, it goes from painfully awkward to fucking devastating in a flash and there's no going back.

They start out slow. Shy. Just this side of flirtatious.

She might send you a selfie in front of a filthy ass mirror, phone angled low, her abs still tight and glistening with sweat from intense core work. One arm casually flexed like she's not deliberately showing off the vascularity in her forearm.

I did hip thrusts thinking about you.

You know that vein down my bicep you like? I made it pop for you today. Wanna see?

You looked really hot in my shirt last night. Just saying.

And somehow, over the course of a few brave conversations between you, this girl becomes a dedicated professional at ruining any chance in hell you have of focusing.

You're at the grocery store, the farmers market, the library... she is thoroughly enjoying making your entire body flush hot. Because at the end of the day, she adores her women with her whole body and soul. She wants to be the one who makes you feel alive.

She wants to remind you how much you mean to her.

How much she needs you.

You'd make such pretty noises if I dragged you into the shower right now.

You ever hear your own voice right before you come? It's the hottest fucking sound I've ever heard.

My hand's between my legs and it's not enough. Not when I know how good your mouth feels. Call me when you're alone, yeah?

But what you're not ready for, are the voicemails she drops on you like an audible aphrodisiac. Once she sees the effect her words have on you through text, she's obsessed with the thought of you laying cozily in the dark, one hand over your mouth, the other clutching your phone, just listening.

Maybe I shouldn't be doing this, but… I can't stop thinking about you. I'm in bed and I can still feel your gorgeous thighs on my shoulders. The way you sound when you're riding me. The way you taste. I swear to god, I'm losing my mind.

You're mine, you know that?

Even when we're apart, you're still mine.

Call me back.

God, her growth arc is so good.