#and it's more recently that he's grown it out long again for multiple reasons

[stirringwinds]

just pondering how old nations deal with the tumult of change; and i personally think that yao might’ve been the last to cut his hair short, after kiku and yong-soo. imo kiku did it first with the onset of the meiji era in 1867, followed by yong-soo during the gwangmu reforms launched by emperor gojong in the 1880-90s; the monarch is in western dress and short hair—and so is the nation. for yao, it’s not that he’s oblivious to how things are falling apart and the urgent need for reform. but he is the oldest of the three of them; he has kept long hair for thousands of years. it’s not that he hasn’t ever experienced defeat and changes at the hands of another nation—but as controversial as the manchu-style braid imposed by the qing dynasty rulers on the whole male population of china was, i think there was still that underlying sense of continuity with long hair for him; wearing his hair long became the one constant in his identity amidst all the drastic changes he’s weathered through the millennia.

and so in the wake of the opium wars, i think it fits if yao’s the one now left behind, watching his sort-of protégés turn away from his worldview symbolically. from being seen as the civilisation to emulate, by both tributaries and even enemies, to being defeated by the very same gunpowder technology invented during one of his golden ages. and kiku and yong-soo see what’s happened; the summer palace is burned to the ground, and yao is no longer the one at the centre of “all under heaven”. they followed yao’s clothing styles, philosophies, religion and kept their hair long like he did—but no longer, after this. he’s staring at the backs of their heads this time, and the only path seems to be to join them. because when it comes down to it, imo, yao won’t die on the sword of tradition for its own sake—he’s survived by being willing to change shape and form throughout history. it takes some time for him to work up to it this time, but he does, in the end— short hair and western dress it is, by the time of the xinhai revolution in 1911: ‘i have been called many names throughout many lifetimes. the empire is dead, long live the republic.’

[patheticpeoplesupreme]

“Shang Houhua?” A voice behind him spoke.

Shang… Hou…Hua?

He raises his head in confusion, the dizziness and nausea overpowering his concentration. He squints through his blurred vision as his world tilts.

A hand holds him firmly. He tries to focus on the sounds instead.

There were multiple people in the room.. for some reason. What happened again? Wasn’t he preparing to leave for a mission? Or soemthing…

Wait, wasn’t cucumber bro with him?

“Cucumber bro?” He questioned, trying ennounciate his words more clearly, fighting through the heaviness of his tongue. Of course, it only serves to confuse everyone, he thinks, because they suddenly started murmuring and not confirming that his best friend was present at all.

He could swear he heard someone say that cucumbers only grew in the demon realm which was ridiculous.

Shang Qinghua doesn’t even remember adding cucumbers to the story.

Wait... He distantly remembers describing one in one of the recent chapters. Oops.

He wonders if he had added coffee or hot chocolate in one of the drafts because damm he really wanted one right now.

“Mmm…�� he hummed happily at the thought before sinking into the depths of his consciousness.

—

He shoots up when he hears a loud noise in his ear, “WHAT THE FUCK!?”

Instinct— he’s a little surprised he still has those l— makes him grab a sword and slam the intruder against the wall. Years of carrying things for people during his disciple years and as a peak lord helped, not to mention having to carry Mobei Jun to the medical bed whenever the man had a severe injury, which didn’t happen as often, but often enough to get used to it.

He’s surprised to find out that the person who had spoken had been his…

“Sh…Shizun…?” He says in shock. Hadn’t his master ascended already??? What was going on???

“Wait— where’s cucu— ah I mean— Shen—shixiong?? Is he okay!?” He spoke pleadingly to his master, letting go of the sword. His Shizun seemed surprised and slightly proud oddly enough.

“Shen—shixiong? Do you mean… Shen Jiu?”

Shang Qinghua tilts his head in confusion, noddingy yet correcting her, “Shen Qingqiu, Shizun, forgive this lowly one for asking, but haven’t you… ascended already?”

(His brain and my brain are incredibly slow I love him)

—

Ahh shit he’s time travelled???

He bowed before the previous sect leader (god please he hopes he doesn’t have to stay here and grow up?? He misses his husband man.

Also like what the fuck where’s tiny him? The body he’s in is still the grown up one. So there’s probably a way for him to get back home.

“This one is Shang Qinghua, the current master of the An Ding peak” he introduces himself politely, unused to talking so formally since the present sect had gotten used to his informal blabbering (he could even say they’ve gotten fond of him or something).

His Shizun smiles at him proudly, my lord it’s been so long he missed his master…… the one kind soul throughout his discipleship

“May this one ask if there was anyone who had arrived with this one?”

With good timing, Shen Qingqiu appears with his fan wearing Binghe’s robes

He visibly sighs in relief. “Shen—shixiong… this one is relieved that you are unharmed.”

In response, Shen Qingqiu hides a snort behind his fan. “This one is also glad to see you alive as well.” He turns to the master, everyone present surprised at how he’s not glaring or giving bad vibes.

“This one is Shen Qingqiu, the current master of the Qing Jing Peak unfortunately, this one has had a incident with a severe qi deviation and in turn lost many memories of the past. So excuse this one for not recalling many things.”

—

**SQH and SQQ hidden behind a wall and watches the past peak lords converse in English while they wait for their Shizun to introduce them.**

“Man…. I feel bad for Zhangmen—shixiong.” Shen Qingqiu sighed, “I mean, I get Shen Qingqiu���s behaviour towards him, but like…. I feel really bad for him. I wish I could give him something, anything but the man in our timeline isn’t even angry at me for body stealing.”

“Is it even body stealing if it’s not intentional?”

“Body achievement, then.”

“That makes less sense bro…”

[shuadotcom]

Take Me Higher | CHS (M)

🍃Summary: Yeah, your first real party was completely different than you had imagined, but it was even better than you had hoped.

🍃Pairing: Stoner!Vernon x Stoner!Afab Reader

🍃Genres & AUs: Smut, a dash of fluff, friends to lovers au, pwp

🍃Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

🍃Content/Warnings: Marijuana usage, mention of alcohol, profanity, protective sex, cunnilingus, fingering, handjob, bathroom sex, sex while high (they’re both faded but they like each other and are consenting), multiple orgasms, dry-humping, allusion to big dick!vernon, reader has boobs and a vagina but no gendered terms are used for y/n

🍃Words: 6.1k

🍃Note: As a cannabis connoisseur myself, I love stoner!vernon fics and will read any and every single one so it was only a matter of time before I wrote my own. Truly it was a mighty need - especially blue hoodie Vernon because that's my favorite shoot of his. This is based off of a slightly true story of my first adult party years ago. Y/n has a much better partner and time than I did though 😂

I also listened to Rihanna's Anti album (aka the last album she'll give us 😭) a lot when writing this for whatever reason.

Thank you bestie @the-boy-meets-evil for being my beta!🫶🏽

Tagging the lovely @kthpurplesyou 😘

🍃Net Tag: @kflixnet

Tonight was turning out to be different than you ever thought it’d be. It’s your first-ever real party and it was turning out to be much less notable than you’d have imagined. Growing up, you had been a typical wallflower with a tiny group of friends that were as introverted as you, so you never knew people who threw parties, and you sure as hell weren’t “important enough” to get invited to them. Nothing much had changed from middle school and even through college.

It’s not until you’re well into your young adulthood that you receive your first party invitation. It comes from your oldest friend, Joshua, whom you recently reconnected with. You had practically grown up with him and when he and his family moved away, your communication eventually lessened with life and timezones in the way. It isn’t until you just so happen to move near him after college that you start hanging out again. He sends you an Instagram message after happening to see a location close to him that you tagged in a post.

You and Joshua easily pick your long-dormant friendship back up, getting along as perfectly as you had years ago. Your closeness and trust are quickly restored in him the more time you spend together. It’s why when he invites you to a party a friend of his is throwing, you jump at the chance.

Having never been to a party, you only had the tv shows and movies you watched to go off of as to what the atmosphere would be like. You imagine loud, deafening music, drunk people spread all over the poorly lit house, the air reeking of alcohol, and too many people.

In reality, the lights are on around the house as expected and the music that plays over a speaker in the living room is loud enough to get lost in while dancing but not so loud that you couldn’t hold a conversation. Instead of smelling like nothing but alcohol, the air only smelt of pizza and an artificial air freshener, with a hint of beer.

There are only a few handfuls of people milling about, most of whom Joshua and Jeonghan - his other close friend who came with the two of you - had long since introduced you to. 

One of whom you’ve spent the most time with when you hang out with Joshua and his friends and are the most familiar with. You have a ton in common and always feel comfortable around him. 

He also happens to be the friend that you have an embarrassingly huge crush on. 

“Hey, Vernon!” Joshua calls his name as the three of you file down the basement stairs where it looks like most of the guests are. 

Vernon turns from his conversation to find you three and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think his smile widened when he made eye contact with you. 

He says something to the guy he’s talking to before approaching you all.

“Hey, Josh, Jeonghan. Hi, Y/n. Thanks for coming.” 

“Obviously we’d show up! I don’t think anyone has thrown a party just for fun in months. And I knew you wouldn’t mind if I brought Y/n. It’s baby’s first party!” Joshua throws his arm around your shoulders, bringing you forward from your spot nearly hiding behind him. You’re not too flustered that you can’t pinch him in the side for exposing you so willingly.

“Of course, I don’t mind!” Vernon rushes out, maybe even a little too loud. He clears his throat, breathing out an awkward laugh. “Anyway yeah, Seungkwan and Chan were feeling particularly social this weekend so I didn’t have much of a say but it’s cool.” Vernon scans the room, pointing out his two roommates across the room as he says their names. “Tonight won’t be anything crazy so don’t worry.” He says the last part to you, a sweet smile on his pretty lips.

As if they could tell they were being talked about, Seungkwan and Chan spot the group of you and are over in an instant, thanking you for coming and guiding you over to where all the snacks and drinks are while Vernon trails behind.

Truth be told, the whole party feels as if it’s a normal hang-out session with everyone. Sure some people get a little more drunk than usual and there’s more dancing and obnoxious singing than there typically is on any other Saturday night, but overall it’s nothing like the parties in movies. No one is swinging from the ceiling naked and drunk off their asses (unless you count Soonyoung shirtless and screaming at the top of his lungs to the karaoke song he’s doing, but no one is too concerned).

You’re even more grateful that you decided on jeans and a nicer shirt after agonizing over what to wear for days. Everyone was in the most normal clothes which took a lot of the pressure you had initially felt off of you. This includes Vernon, who was in jeans and an oversized, cozy-looking hoodie in the prettiest shade of baby blue. You could barely keep your eyes off of him, not that you really tried. He didn’t make it any easier, seeing how he hasn’t moved from your general vicinity all night. 

Whether it was near the snack table, upstairs for a little while, or standing near Joshua and Jeonghan as they played beer pong, Vernon hasn’t been far, mostly talking to the two men or any other people around you, occasionally trying to bring you into the conversation. You’ve been doing your best to contribute, but your nerves about not knowing what to do with yourself, paired with the butterflies in your stomach that erupt whenever Vernon so much as looks at you, have you feeling a little out of your element.

At some point in the night, Jeonghan wanders off and Vernon disappears for a bit. You and Joshua are standing near the drinks, trying a few different shots and you hate them all. You nearly forgot how much you dislike the taste of most alcohol.

“So when are you going to tell Vernon you’re into him?” Joshua’s question is abrupt and he knows it. It’s why he snickers, watching your face contort as you choke on the shot of Patron you just knocked back, which you instantly regret. 

“When am I going to what?!”

Joshua shrugs, taking a shot himself, his eyebrows only knitting a little. 

“You heard me. And don’t act so surprised. Watching the two of you steal glances at each other all night and then act all shy as if you weren’t doing that was cute for the first five minutes, but enough is enough!” Joshua reaches for another shot, but you smack his hand, demanding why he thinks you like his friend. You haven’t told a soul about your crush on Vernon.

He’s about to say something else, but then Vernon shows up and your attention locks onto him.

“Hey guys, I’m heading outside if you want to come.” His eyes linger on yours and you momentarily forget how to speak so Joshua answers for you, letting him know that you’ll both be joining him.

It’s late and you’re not sure what time it is, but the sky is full of tiny stars, providing faint light to the group of people sitting outside. The small circle of people is sitting on lawn chairs surrounding a brightly shining lantern and a bong as they take turns passing it around. The three of you take the spots still open with you between Joshua and Vernon. 

You didn’t forget what Joshua said inside, but put your interrogation on the back burner.

You’ve smoked weed before, in fact, you do so multiple days of the week. It’d been your chosen way to destress with friends before you moved and even more so now as you quickly learned that Vernon was the stoner friend in this group. If everyone was going to be hanging out and Vernon was there, there’d inevitably be edibles or a joint passed around. In your mind, you were practically perfect for each other.

The other partygoers greet you, and Vernon immediately takes the bong from the person next to him. Joshua falls into conversation with Wonwoo on his other side which gives you time to study Vernon.

He rolls up the sleeves of his hoodie, his forearms on full display. His movements are effortless as he leans forward to grab a pinch of weed from the grinder tin on the small table in front of you. His fingers, always looking so long, nimbly pack the bowl of the bong. He uses his middle finger to gently press it down as his eyebrows knit in concentration and his lips purse just a tiny bit. 

Your eyes never leave him as he places his lips into the mouthpiece and uses his free hand to grab a lighter on the table. Vernon lights the bowl with skilled fingers, inhaling gently but confidently, then removes it. His eyelids flutter closed, as he inhales steadily, the smoke in the bong swirling as it fills his lungs. 

Once he’s had his fill, he pulls the bong away, holding the smoke in his chest for a few seconds before his red lips part, the smoke seeping out of his mouth in rings and drifting up to the dark sky. A dopey smile plays on his lips as his eyes open again, meeting yours. 

The entire act has you clenching as you watch him work, so in his element and looking absolutely breathtaking while doing so. But the look he’s giving you now has an undeniable effect on you and the want you so often feel for him.

Vernon tips the bong lightly in your direction, asking if you want a hit and you accept it. Instead of handing it to you, he holds the mouthpiece out to you, keeping it in his grasp as you lean forward and place your mouth on it. Vernon lights the bowl for you, holding eye contact as you start to let the smoke billow into your mouth, your chest already feeling warm as it fills you. He waits until your eyes close to remove the bowl, and you inhale sharply, your head already feeling lighter.

The bong is pulled away and you tip your head back, the smoke swirling inside of you before your lungs begin to burn and you open your mouth, releasing the smoke. You watch it float up and dissipate and don’t notice Vernon’s gaze still glued to you.

When you meet his eyes, neither of you moves, almost waiting to see what the other will say or do.

Joshua is the one to interrupt the moment, yelling at the two of you for not sharing. Vernon leans over you to pass the bong to Joshua’s waiting hands and he’s the closest to you he has been all evening. The smell of his sweet shampoo hits you first before the woodsy scent of his cologne follows, topped off with the faint smell of weed. It takes everything in you not to kiss him, but you hold it together until he sits back in his chair. He slouches into the uncomfortable fold-out chair, his legs spread wide in his worn jeans, practically begging you to crawl into his lap. Again, you don’t, but dear god how you want to.

Time ticks by as your small group stays outside, passing the bong around the circle every few minutes. You’ve quickly lost the conversation being held by the whole group since you and Vernon spend most of your time talking amongst yourselves. You don’t discuss anything in particular, just movies you’ve seen lately, new restaurants you’ve tried, and some of your favorite new musical releases. Conversation with Vernon always flows so naturally and easily. The two of you rarely broach awkward topics which is a miracle in itself.

At one point, the conversation shifts to you and your lack of experience in the party department.

“So, you’ve never been to any party ever? Like not even a birthday party?”

“Do birthday parties at laser tag places count when I was like ten?” Both of you giggle at that, feeling so much more at ease than you did earlier.

“I don’t think so. I mean like, in high school, you never even went to like a small house party?”

You shake your head as you sip on the soda you had dragged yourself back into the house to get earlier. “Nah. I wasn’t really popular in high school and my friends and I were all too nerdy to throw parties. We had anime-watch nights, but that’s about it.” Waving your hands dismissively you chuckle, but Vernon just shakes his head.

“I can’t believe that.”

“What, that I’m a massive nerd? I wouldn’t think that’d be a surprise since Joshua and I literally got into an argument about Full Metal Alchemist last weekend at Seungcheol’s.” A snort leaves Vernon when he laughs and you can’t help but notice how endearing it is.

“No, we already know you and Shua are weebs!” He keeps laughing even when you lightly push him at his teasing. “What I mean is, I can’t believe that you weren’t popular. I mean, look at you!” He gestures wildly to you, his eyes sweeping over you from head to toe.

“Oh, come on.”

“No, for real! You’re so damn funny and so fun to be around. You’re super sweet and kind and you’re always taking care of us. Plus you’re the hottest person I’ve ever met so like, how the fuck weren’t people all over you? You’re basically fucking perfect!” His words make you feel fuzzy all over, and you know it’s not just the weed.

“Thank you, Vernon,” you whisper, averting your attention to your drink. Hearing Vernon call you hot and “fucking perfect” makes you squeeze your thighs together. Something about him complimenting you so blatantly has you weak in the knees. With your earlier stress gone and feeling a little more carefree, you decide it’s now or never. “I think all of that about you too,” you mumble under your breath.

At first, you’re not sure if he hears you so you dart your eyes over to him. Vernon is staring at you, blinking slowly and you can almost see the gears turning in his head.

“Oh wow,” he finally breathes out. “Really?”

Oh. He did hear you.

“Yeah.” You admit. It’s already out there so you may as well just stand by it.

Vernon’s brain looks as though it’s working overtime as he stares at you blankly. Your stomach does the most violent of flips as you wait for what comes next, unsure of what you should say. 

Thankfully, Joshua barges into the conversation, disrupting the tension that hung between you and Vernon.

“Hey, Y/n, I’m tired. I’m gonna find Jeonghan and head home. You wanna share an Uber? Jeonghan’ll probably crash at my place and you can too. Or we’ll put your address in as a stop.”

“Uh…” Do you want to leave now? You just kind-of, sort-of, maybe confessed your feelings to Vernon. But, he also kind-of, sort-of maybe did the same. 

If you leave now, will he pretend none of this happened the next time you see him again? Will he blame the weed for his words that he possibly didn’t mean? Does he want you to stay and decide what to do next together?

“Y/n mentioned staying behind for a while longer. Right?” Vernon decides for you, tilting his head and looking back at you, unmoving as he waits for you to verify.

“Oh, yeah I’m gonna stay a little longer.”

Joshua narrows his eyes at you, scanning your face for something that may contradict your words. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m good here with Vernon.” Joshua seems to inspect you both, the seconds dragging on before he finally decides that he accepts what you’re saying.

“Okay, but I better get a text from you later when you’re going home and when you get there. Got it?”

“Promise!” 

Joshua throws another look at Vernon. “Everybody better stay safe.” There’s something else behind Joshua’s demand and you’re not sure how exactly to take it.

You and Vernon watch him go before the earlier silence you shared is back. It hangs in the air for what feels to you like an eternity but is more likely only a few seconds.

“You wanna, uh, go upstairs?”

“Yes!” Vernon stumbles over his words when he asks you, but you don’t when you answer him. He’s barely able to get the last word out before you’re accepting his offer. You don’t care where he wants to take you because you’ll go wherever with him.

Vernon slowly stands, reaching for your hand which you give him without a second thought. He leads you back inside the house, upstairs, and to one of the bathrooms in the hall.

“Um, my room’s not clean. I didn’t really expect anyone would be in my room besides me so…” Vernon confesses rather sheepishly when the door is shut behind you. “But, Seungkwan made us clean all the common areas so I promise this room is clean.” A nervous chuckle leaves him, averting his eyes from you.

“That’s okay,” you admit. And it is. Your romantic feelings for Vernon aside (and yes it is a lot of feelings), you want him so badly. You yearn to kiss him, touch him, and let him fuck you, no matter where it happens. Knowing that maybe your feelings aren’t unrequited only makes you want him even more. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

Vernon smiles at you, his mouth taking the shape of a heart that has your actual heart beating wildly. He approaches you almost cautiously, pressing you against the bathroom door.

“Are you sure you want this?” His question is a whisper as he’s practically nose to nose with you.

“Of course.”

“We can stop whenever you want to. If you get uncomfortable or change your mind about me or anything like that just say the word.”

“Vernon, I want to be here, I promise. Now kiss me, please.” 

And kiss you he does. Vernon dips his head to close the gap between you. His lips are a little chapped as they move against yours, but you don’t mind at all. Your hands ball themselves in the front of his hoodie while he cups your face and kisses you hard. His tongue prods at your lips and you open immediately, moaning as the muscle slips inside your mouth. His tongue wraps around yours, suckling at it and pulling another desperate sound from you. The urgency behind his movements is evident, as his hips meet yours, his body flush against you. 

It’s shallow at first and barely noticeable but when you do feel it - Vernon grinding against you - you instantly react, meeting his small thrusts.

When his clothed erection, already hard and straining through his jeans, presses against your pelvis, he makes a deep, pleased hum in his throat. Even through his clothes, you can feel just how big Vernon is. More wetness pools between your legs, already making your underwear feel uncomfortable and sticky. 

Vernon continues to hump against you, his kisses becoming more frantic and his hands have long since started wandering on you. His big hands cradle your hips, sliding down the tops of your thighs, then around you to grab a handful of your ass. He yanks you into him, his hips continuing to rut against you.

The sheer act of Vernon dry-humping you like a man truly crazy with lust only makes you want him more. You feel yourself clench around nothing, the friction of Vernon’s hard-on nudging so close to where you need him the most. He has to pull away from your mouth finally, gasping for air, but his hips don’t falter. 

“Vernon…please, I need more.”

“M-more?” 

“More. Need more.” Your words come out as more of a whine when he squeezes your ass again.

“More of me?”

“Please!”

“Fuck, yeah. Okay.”

He looks genuinely forlorn at the thought of stopping his movements, but he does, lightly panting from his exertion.

Your hands leave the crumpled fabric of his hoodie and snake down to his waist, slipping your hands under the hem. Vernon lets you undress him and then he does the same to you, pulling off piece by piece, tossing each article away without so much as a second thought and drinking in the sight of one another as you go. 

Vernon is back on you once you’re both naked, shoving your bodies together as he kisses you again. He cups your breasts, thumbs rubbing circles over your pert nipples. You moan into Vernon’s mouth, letting him work your sensitive buds, the sensation making you rub your thighs together. When your knee brushes Vernon’s hard cock, he nearly chokes. His hands knead at your plush skin as his lips trace their way from your lips to your neck.

Vernon’s teeth nip at your skin and your hands float up to grab at his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands, keeping him at your most sensitive spot. Your knees nearly buckle when he starts to suck harshly and his hands continue their work on your tits.

Before you know what’s next, one of Vernon’s hands is inching down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs. With a step out to the side, you spread your thighs to give him access. A single, long digit swipes at your already sopping folds. 

He eases his finger into your hole, your warmth greedily sucking him. Vernon begins pumping his finger in and out of you as he continues marking your neck, mumbling about how warm you are and how wet you feel. Your mind starts to turn to mush, your hands scrambling to grasp onto any part of Vernon you can. It happens to be his biceps - those of which are surprisingly firm. You’ve never seen him go to the gym or talk about working out, but clearly he’s doing something. The muscles ripple as he pistons his finger in and out, soon adding a second which slides in with no resistance.

His hot, rock-hard length brushes against your thigh and you reach down with the hand not clutching his arm for dear life, and wrap your fingers around his cock.

Vernon jumps, hissing through his teeth as you slowly jerk him off. Your thumb rubs over his tip, the precum oozing out and helping your hand glide over him.

His lips find yours again, the kiss bruising and messy as he finger fucks you faster and the squelching sounds you make around him echo off of the tile. His fingers scissor in you, working you open for him and when he grazes that soft, spongy spot inside of you, your legs nearly give out. 

He manages to keep you upright with his other arm locked around your waist. “You okay?” His voice is gruff, much deeper than it was earlier and you can feel more wetness seep out and around his fingers. 

“I’m s-so close, Vern, fuck.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum all over my fingers?”

The sentence is so simple but it has you clenching around his digits so hard that you hold your breath.

“Mmhmm!” you can’t manage words, only sounds, but he doesn’t ask again, instead quickening his pace. Doing your best to match his speed, you twist your wrist, letting Vernon cant his hips forward and fuck into your hand. You whimper into each other’s mouths, the only focus is each other. The only thing either of you see and think about is the other.

Vernon eventually breaks the kiss and bends down to draw one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking at the bud before sucking on it hard enough to hurt in the best way. The twinge of pain shoots straight to your belly, the tension finally snapping.

When you cum, you throw your head back, hitting the bathroom door with a loud ‘thunk!’ and your eyes squeeze shut so tightly that stars swim in the darkness of your closed lids “Fuck!” You choke out, your knees finally giving up on keeping you upright as you let go of Vernon’s cock to grab a hold of his other arm.

Your body sags against his bare chest. He has to prop you back against the door while he helps you ride out your orgasm. The image of you like this, naked and sweaty and crying out for him on his fingers will live in his mind rent-free until the day he dies.

When he finally slips out of you, he can’t help but stare in awe at your juices that drip down his fingers. His first impulse is to shove them into his mouth which he does eagerly, sucking and savoring the flavor of you.

Vernon’s eyes roll back and you watch the entire thing, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Can I eat you out? If that’s okay with you of course.” Vernon’s eyes are wide as he meets yours, half-afraid that you’ll say no. He’ll respect you of course, but he’ll also daydream forever about the way just the small sampling of you tasted on his tongue.

Luckily, for both of you, you want nothing more than to feel Vernon’s kiss-swollen lips on your cunt.

“Please!” You shamelessly beg, droopy eyes widening at his request.

He leads you to the bathroom counter and helps you clumsily clamber up onto it. Both of you are wobbly and clumsy from the weed, but you make it without injury. Vernon’s on his knees instantly, wide hands prying your legs open, pussy on full display. 

“Holy shit, you’re so wet!”

“Vernon!” You cover your face in embarrassment, feeling self-conscious.

“Like, your pussy is fucking shimmering in the light, baby.” His face is right in front of your heat, the proximity making your hole flutter right in front of his eyes. “Fucking hell I just watched your pussy squeeze. I’m going to pass out.”

“Vernon, fucking touch me already, please! I need you so bad!” His heavy eyes meet yours, tongue darting out to lick his lips. 

“Yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

Much like earlier, he didn’t need you to tell him again as his eyes focus on you and he dips his head between your legs. 

Vernon’s tongue immediately finds your clit, the muscle flicking forcefully, sending a jolt through you. Shaky fingers rake through Vernon’s hair and grip the brunette locks for support as he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking on it in the way you need.

“Fuck! Vernon, yes!” Your hips start to buck up into his face when he changes direction and dips his tongue into your pussy, groaning low in his throat as he does.

“Mmph! So good.” Vernon drawls, his words muffled as he tongue fucks you, slurping your wetness as he does.

His tongue darts in and out of you, his nose brushing your clit every time you lift your hips. Vernon makes out with your cunt, the lewd sounds alone are enough to have you hurdling to your end and Vernon’s grunt reverberating through your body is what ultimately has you cumming. 

“Vernon!” His name erupts from your mouth in a shriek, your thighs clamping around his head. Your whole body feels as if it’s on fire, as you arch almost painfully into him. You stay that way for what feels like minutes, hips still pushed towards him as you gasp and Vernon continues to lazily lick at you.

The world could crumble around you at this very moment and you don’t think you’d care. 

That was undisputedly the best head you’ve ever gotten.

Vernon chuckles from between your thighs, finally coming up for air.

“Best head ever huh?” His nose all the way to his chin shines with your juices as he gives you a lopsided grin. 

You hadn’t even realized you said your last thoughts out loud. Only a small part of you feels embarrassed. The rest of you only focuses on Vernon as he stands up, his cock red and angry as it rests against his stomach.

“Can - can we do it on the floor? My legs feel like cooked pasta right now and I can’t stay upright.” His expression is sullen as he says this, but you can only giggle at how cute he looks, pouting at you, cradling his very thick, very distracting dick.

“You can fuck me wherever you want as long as you do it.”

Vernon’s eyes widen, blinking a few times as if your words fluster him, but he quickly snaps out of it, helping you off the counter. He grabs a bath towel hanging on the rack nearby and spreads it out on the floor before helping lay you on it. He promises that it’s clean, but you shrug his worries away. Towel or not, at this very moment all you want is Vernon to fuck you even more stupid than the weed has made you, and you don’t care what he does it on.

With fumbling hands, Vernon reaches for his pants and digs his wallet out in search of a condom. When he finds it, he opens and rolls the rubber on, hands trembling as he goes. 

He scurries back over to you, easily taking his place between your legs. He momentarily forgets what he’s doing when he catches sight of your still-sopping folds and you have to call his name to get his attention. His eyes dart up to look at you, fixating on your heaving chest and bottom lip pulled tight between your teeth, hair sprawled out around your head, eyes red and shiny, staring right back at him. 

You look straight out of all of the late-night fantasies he’s had about you and you don’t even know it.

Vernon’s cock feels as big as it looks when he finally eases inside of you, your legs quivering along the way. His hands hook under your knees, keeping you open until he buries himself balls-deep into your pussy.

The two of you share a moan, your voices harmonizing in pleasure at finally filling you and being full by him. He takes a moment before he thrusts forward, gauging your reaction. A scrunch of your brow and a nod to him lets him know to move and he anchors himself by gripping your thighs as he starts to snap his hips.

A high-pitched yelp leaves you, echoing in the room along with the wet sounds of your arousal, the sound only intensifying as Vernon starts to fuck you with more urgency. 

“Holy shit, Y/n. You feel fucking incredible.” He pants out as he drives his hips into yours, sweat already beading at his hairline.

Your shaky hands reach up to wrap around his shoulders and you pull him closer. “S-so do you…” Vernon stumbles, but catches himself, planting his hands on the sides of your head. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you do your best to lift your hips with each thrust, meeting Vernon’s momentum as he fucks into you.

Through the condom, you can still feel the most prominent veins on his cock, the friction gliding against your walls, your eyes crossing at the pleasure. The bathroom floor isn’t where you imagined your first time with him being, although you never thought that your first time with him would even happen. Your crush on him was one you kept close to you and in your mind, it wouldn’t be reciprocated. 

That thought was obviously cast aside if the way his soft brown eyes, rimmed with scarlet, are looking down at you, even as his lips press together in concentration with each drive of his body jolting yours and almost pushing you across the floor.

Even with THC coursing through his system and making every other movement so slow, Vernon is quick and determined as he rocks into you, your soft, gummy walls squeezing him harder the faster he fucks into you at a bruising pace. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Vernon rasps out between grunts. 

“You’re f-fucking the last of my brain cells out of m-me and you wanna be romantic?” You manage a laugh, even if it gets cut off with a sob as soon as Vernon’s cockhead bumps into your g-spot. 

“I can’t help it. You make me wanna be romantic.” His words are accentuated with a breathy groan - the sentence a stark contrast to the way he pummels your cunt.

Tears well in your eyes, and you blame the weed for bringing emotions out of you. Raising your head as best as you can, you meet his lips in what is meant to be a sweet kiss, even if it’s more teeth than anything, but neither of you minds.

You lay back and settle when you can’t keep yourself up anymore and Vernon stays close to your face as he pivots his hips, shoving his hand between your bodies. It takes him a second, but he eventually finds your clit, eliciting a shriek from you.

The pace that Vernon finds with both his hips and his fingers has your orgasm right on the cusp, your body already sensitive from earlier. 

“V-Vernon!”

“Say my real name,” he wheezes desperately. 

“Hansol! Fuck, so good. ‘M gonna cum! So close…” His real name rolls off of your tongue just as easily as his nickname does, if not easier.

His fingers pinch at your clit between pressing against it as his other hand supports most of his weight, his sweaty forehead resting against yours. 

“Cum for me again, baby. Wanna see you cum just for me.” His voice is like honey, dripping all over you, and setting your heart and body ablaze.

You reach your high then, a needy cry of his name exploding from you, your body going stiff. Wave after wave rushes through you like an inferno, your blood rushing to your head. Through the ringing in your ears, you hear Hansol actually growl from above you, your name, and a string of curses sounding like a chant coming from him.

His mouth hangs open again as his hips stutter, riding out his orgasm until he lets out a loud huff. Instinctively, you reach your hand up, running it through Hansol’s damp strands. His eyes slip close, pushing his head into your hand more, relishing in the way your nails graze his scalp.

The air is calm and full of so much adoration even as you both harshly huff and puff, catching your breath. You relish this moment with Hansol, wanting nothing more than to stay like this with him.

The sound of his stomach grumbling cuts through the moment. “Sorry,” he snorts, causing both of you to break into a fit of laughter.

“Wanna go back downstairs and get some pizza?” You ask him as he finally moves off of you and you peel yourself up from the floor. Vernon has to help you stand, but to be fair, both of you are unsteady as you stand again.

“Hell yeah. Would you wanna bring it back up to my room? I can clean up really quickly and you can stay over. I have a bowl if you wanna smoke more. But only if you want to! You can say no and I can stay with you until a rideshare gets here.” The nervousness in his question is obvious as he pulls his clothes back on, having to concentrate on getting both legs in his jeans without falling over.

“Of course, I’ll stay over. And don’t worry about the mess. As long as there’s room in the bed for us, the food, and to smoke it doesn’t matter to me, Hansol.” You smile to yourself once you’re dressed, loving the way his real name sounds to your ears. You want to only call him Hansol from here on out.

His head snaps up and he fixes you with a wide-eyed look once his hoodie is back on. “Really?”

You nod at him, laughing at his expression - the same incredulous look he’s given you all night. Closing the small distance between the two of you, you place a gentle kiss on his lips, enjoying the way he instantly melts into you.

Yeah, your first real party was completely different than you had imagined, but it was even better than you had hoped.

Seventeen masterlist | All Masterlists

[crispy-dib]

Tell me everything about your oc NOW !!!!!!!!!!!!!! haha jk, ,,,,,, unless ?

Because tumblr was mean and kicked me out here’s an image of the first lil blurb I wrote

CONTINUING ON THOUGH!

Currently Eli’s main trials is 1 of his very own and 2 MK events (will elaborate further later), but in events where multiple PA’s can be in the same area (like Prime Time, any other events like that in the past I may have missed due to just getting the game recently lol) he will automatically be placed alongside Franco Barbi - typically in The Docks, but he has attended The Fun Park a few times. He is never found in The Orphanage or The Police Station.

As for Eli’s actual past? What brought him to Project Lathe? It’s a long story.

Let’s go back to the very beginning.

Eli, as he’s known, is a multidimensional being that I created in order to have a baseline sona for fictional universes. He started back in 2022 as a Sonic OC, and has just grown ever since.

He was born from a quasar and searches the multiverse for companionship and to study life on planets.

His consciousness splits upon every universe (meaning that only this version of it is present in the universe).

Only one can exist per dimension, so there is only one Elisheva for every fictional world.

and this is where we bring it back to Outlast.

Upon traversing to this world in New York, Elisheva finds he can’t achieve his regular form. He’s human in this world, against his will. Spoiler alert! that’s due to Murkoff fuckery.

For reference: Eli is usually in the appearance of an anthropomorphic rabbit because again, thats how he began (a sonic oc.) Tosses these at ya!

He attempts to live a normal life in the Outlast world, despite being SO out of his element. This doesn’t really go well.

Being a human version of himself, and in the 1930s-50s where he grows up in New York…things aren’t…great.

Firstly those scars? Those aren’t there. He grows into “a woman”. With all the societal pressures of being an adult in the 50s, he has to perform femininity to an incredulous degree. Or, he should.

He refuses. Living as himself rather than the fraudulent woman people around him wishes him to be. What used to be friends are now enemies, and the world begins to crumble beneath him.

On top of that, I give him my epilepsy in EVERY world, so he’s super fucked in that stance. ADA didn’t pass until the 1990s, and there was no goddamn way people would accommodate for him.

Slowly being stripped of his personhood, he loses himself. And if he can’t look the way he truly is, and if he cannot be helped without death, then death it shall be.

He begins an impressive murder spree, the mask fused to his face being the flesh of his victims. The only reason Clyde Perry isn’t harmed from attempting to find him is because Elisheva already almost took himself out.

Clyde finds him half dead bleeding from…it’d be easier to name where he WASN’T bleeding from, but the most shocking part to many was his chest. He lopped parts of it off (an actually written moment of my own intrusive/impulsive thoughts if I had no restraint)

So Eli is taken to Sinyala without much of a hitch and slight reconstruction on his breasts, arms, legs- really everywhere but his face, which, of course, now bore the mask.

^ A transcription of an interview :)

He’s named Project Patchwork after the mask and Patchwork Rabbit for the same reason.

I and others have this headcanon of The Prime Assets having their own holding rooms at Sinyala - and I know it’s cliché, but at first Eli is held WITH Franco in an effort to calm the both of them. Franco needs a Mommy and Eli needs a damn friend. I’m not sure if I do want them to separate their rooms, but if they ever do it’ll just add more interesting things to their dynamic. They will EVENTUALLY become an item, but it takes a very long time.

Eli’s Trial is called “Reform the Formless”, and it takes place on The Campsite.

His MK Challenges are “Evacuate The Grounds” and “Drown the Counselor”

RTF has tasks that builds to you eventually rushing out with mannequin “children” and putting them into a cart, pushing them to safety. Eli will try to protect these children. This is a 45 minute trial.

“Taking away the bonds that which the cow has with her calf is how we create more cows. More milk. More money. Take these lost cows from their mother. Take them. Reform them. And we will let you out.”

ETG is a shorter version, where you pretty much only take the kids out, versus everything else in the made up trial (which includes gaining access to the grounds through summer camp-like quests) this is a 15 minute trial.

DTC is actually a lot like Vindicate The Guilty or Cleanse The Orphans in the sense of ya need keys to activate a thing to kill a man. This time its boat keys and a “dunk the ___” minigame to complete the trial. 15 minute trial

Eli tends to kill using only his teeth and nails as well as general brute force. He can also pick up things like bricks and bottles to throw at you, but he much prefers the former.

Uhh that’s all I have. If you read this far I’m giving you a kiss on the forehead and hugs (with consent of course)

[those70scomics]

Fictober Day 27: "let me remind you"

That '70s Show Fanfiction

Brooke had finished her before-sleep routine, brushing her teeth, moisturizing her hands and forearms. She slid beneath her bedsheets. Michael was already in bed -- actually on the bed in the full pajamas he wore in colder months. He faced her, and he fiddled with the buttons of his pajamas top.

"Friday night," Brooke said as a reminder. Fridays for her at the library were busy and exhausting. She spent time fixing catalog errors when she wasn't managing the staff. She was the second-in-command, and Fridays and Tuesdays were her boss's days off. Brooke had chosen Saturday and Sunday because of her family.

She snuggled into her pillow, closed her eyes, and Michael said, "I want another kid."

Her eyes popped open, but she didn't turn to look at him. "Let me remind you that you also wanted to be an astronaut, invent a time machine, have a monkey as a pet -- " Her heart was racing. He couldn't possibly mean what he'd said. She'd been asking him to have another child since Betsy was four. Their recent visit with the Sinclairs and their lovely two-child family hadn't seemed to convince him.

He touched her shoulder. "I'm not saying this to trick you into having Fridays sex. Sure, I would've done that ten years ago, but that's not who I am anymore."

She faced him in the bed, and he continued. "All those other ideas were -- " he gestured in front of himself -- "way out here." He placed his hand near Brooke's stomach, over their comforter. "Having another kid'll be in here." He touched his heart. "And here."

"Michael ... " She reached toward him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He was often very sweet, one of the reasons she fell in love with him. Yet his stubbornness about their family upset her more than she let on, for years.

She held him tighter. Perhaps classifying his previously immovable opinion as stubborn wasn't wholly accurate or fair. He was protective of the family they had and determined to keep it safe -- to keep Betsy safe -- from what he'd grown up with.

She kissed Michael on the lips, held his hand on the bed, and said, "How do you think Betsy will handle having a sibling? She's had ten years being our only child. That's a long time. This change could mess with her sense of stability."

"We'll never let her forget how much we love her. And change is part of life, right? She's gotta get used to that. We were terrified after I accidentally knocked you up, but we had friends and family to help us get through it. Betsy'll learn change doesn't have to be bad."

He traced her jawline with his fingertips. "Anyway, we're adding to our family, not subtracting. That wasn't true when I was a kid. My parents' attention was divided into smaller and smaller pieces the more babies they had. But we've got so much love that another kid'll be multiplication for us."

His use of math metaphors was turning her on. Mostly, though, his heart and how much it had grown replaced her fatigue with excitement. She kissed him again, deeply. She was ready start making baby number two.

[burnin0akleaves]

This has been on the horizon for a while, but I think a part of me just didn't want to admit it until recently. I'll cut straight to the chase, you probably won't see much RA content from me anymore.

The topic of the fandom, the tags or quality of the posts have been discussed a few times already -mostly by me I think which should have been a warning sign haha- so I'm not going to go into too much detail. I'll just share my perspective.

The fandom simply just doesn't have much to offer me at the moment.

Everyone knows that a huge part of my interest in RA was and always has been TRR Will. If he didn't exist, I would have lost interest in the series a LONG time ago. But I can cook my own meals for only so long before I get tired and want to eat out for a change, and unfortunately for me no one is serving the food I want at the moment. I still love love love this man, but there just isn't enough content for him in the fandom (except the ones made by me) for me to want to actively keep engaging with it.

Not only that, art just doesn't get the same reception as it used to here. If I can draw another interest of mine and get triple the engagement, then it's just easier for me to be motivated to share my art of that other thing. Sure I draw because I want to first, but suprisingly for everyone I do want to draw things other than RA. And if those other things are more appreciated, then it just means I'm more motivated to keep posting them for everyone else to see. Most people probably remember I used to be very active in discussions and character analyses on here as well, but I just don't see the space for that sort of content here anymore. (Sorry to that one anon who said they liked my writing, you know who you are)

I still love RA and TRR Will, but I'll probably keep my thoughts or the occasional sketch I draw for myself from now on. I just don't feel motivated to share it.

Also just in case anyone asks my opinion after the recent discussion at the ask blog; yes, I don't like the current state of most of the posts here either. I don't want to go out bad-mouthing others though, the current style of content in the fandom just isn't my taste. Which is alright, maybe I've simply grown out of the series! The book getting newer fans is a good thing and I hope they have as much fun as I did when I first joined. This fandom has been my home for years now but I think it's around time I go out and explore more.

I'll still keep up with the series. Again, my fixation on Will is very much alive and well. It sucks that I don't have the energy to share my passion with others anymore, but I'm sure people will do just fine without me mauling every other guy that completely misunderstands his character to death. Don't get me started on the beard shit, genuinely frustrating how a fandom revolving around a book series has 0 literacy at times.

TLDR: I'm not going to be active in the RA fandom anymore because of multiple reasons. I still love TRR Will but I'm not motivated to share my work here in the current state of things. I loved my time here and I hope everyone else does too.

-

Also if my feelings change in the future, then that will be that and I might come back. I'm not sending myself off to exile here. I'm not writing any of this because I believe I have to explain myself either, I'm doing it because I simply want to avoid causing people confusion. Feel free to send me RA related asks still, just don't expect to see me around the RA spaces as much. I'll stay in all the servers obviously, and my presence will be around indirectly since most of my friends are still here. Also, if you draw TRR Will do feel free to send him to me in the dms. Love that guy and his apprentice so much, wish more people did.

[codenamesazanka]

OH apropos of not meme, just remembered this attempt at making an absurd ‘mundane’ AU that follows the canon storyline (no quirks, tho heteromorphs still exists):

AFO is a 60-year old hospital chairman in *excellent* shape, although recent brain tumor surgery did leave him blind. He is also co-author of some obscure sci-fi books in his youth, but he’s much more known for being an influential community leader… though his wikipedia page would have a looooong ‘controversies’ section.

All Might is a 58-year old local celebrity as a retired bodybuilder and actor, who now runs a local community service center. Also an influential community leader, with much higher public approval.

AFO and All Might have been at each other’s throat for years for various reasons, among them a long, drawn out custody battle over shared distant nephew Tomura. Tomura’s 20 years old now and a legal adult, but the feud lives on.

Meanwhile, Tomura has now grown up to be a lackluster truant college student with a penchant for stirring up trouble with his eclectic gang of friends he made from hanging out at an arcade and the dive bar next door (henceforth dubbed ‘the League’).

But the drama really starts when AFO and All Might get in a fight one night at a local high school charity event. Just really going at it. All Might threw the first punch, but All For One revealed his custom cane to have a hidden blade and was a bit too reckless with it.

So AFO is arrested; thanks to his lawyer, he avoids jail but only because the lawyer has been able to convince the courts that AFO is mildly senile. So he is entered into a nursing home. (I don’t know how courts work and I don’t care.)

Ujiko - AFO’s life partner, hospital’s chief medical director, and Tomura’s foster stepdad - takes this opportunity to cut off Tomura’s allowance to force Tomura to grow up a little (and to start attending his classes.)

This does not work. While trying to scrounge up cash, Tomura and his gang make enemies with the local shogi club (an open secret among everyone that it’s a front for growing weed). Conflict ends with a police raid and the League running over the club president/leader with a car. Don’t worry - Chisaki is alive, but both his arms are broken. Along with his spirit.

(Around this time, Kurogiri - AFO’s driver and Tomura’s old babysitter - is discovered to be a man with amnesia whose family has been looking for him for years, so he has to leave for a while.)

Hoping to instill some discipline in the boy, AFO’s friend and personal trainer Machia drags Tomura (and friends) on an extended mountain camping trip. During a hike, they become lost, end up trespassing on a cult intentional community’s property, and get hunted down (the intentional community is a survivalist group). However, Tomura’s newfound wilderness skills impress the survivalists leader so much that ReDestro decides to welcome them as guest fellow preppers. The League freeloads off them for the rest of winter.

Come early spring, Tomura wants to make good with Ujiko again, so he and everyone goes to a fundraising event Ujiko is hosting at the park…

…Unfortunately, someone messed up the scheduling, and booked a high school community service field trip at the same time and place. One thing leads to another and the day ends with:

several arrests and minor hospitalizations due to multiple brawls;

things set on fire;

one of the police chief’s sons exposed as an arsonist;

the park’s prized butterfly garden trampled beyond repair;

several people pushed into the lake and getting hypothermia;

the high school’s home ec teacher choked a local magician, who is hospitalized but for entirely different complications (accidentally stabbing himself);

Tomura’s friend Jin arrested after being tazed by a cop;

the intentional community banned from the park;

phone videos going viral;

high school students traumatized;

teachers under disciplinary review;

and Tomura sent to the emergency room for minor injuries and a concussion with overnight stay for observance.

Also Ujiko is now under investigation for embezzling charity funds for his and AFO’s side Neapolitan Mastiffs breeding business.

After being notified by his lawyer of the incident, AFO breaks out of the nursing home that night to kidnap Tomura from hospital and retreat to his beach house. His foster son is grounded. An American private tutor is also hired to force Tomura to make up his missed semester of classwork.

This now gives AFO the opportunity to spend some quality time getting to know Tomura’s awkwardly cute friend Spinner. For Spinner, this consists of guiding his friend’s 60-but-looks-40 blind foster dad who’s really into tactile communication, and having to read drafts of weird sci-fi because AFO has recently gotten back into writing. Meanwhile, AFO is making a dinner reservation for two at a beachside bistro.

[teeth-cable]

Im the CSA victim from UniformedArtists blog and I agree with you 1000% dropping everything Vivziepop.

Like I only watch Helluva even after the shit she's done to see how far it would sink but jesus christ.

You know her just saying the counselor is 18-19 isn't fucking good enough because the show says a different thing.

Like before people bring up the argument counselors can be adults... Most TV shows in media actually have minor counselors and we know Vivziepop doesn't research shit about hell or actual royalty so why the fuck am I supposed to believe Adam or her researched counselor age ranges.

Also nobody should have a twitter to figure out if you did or didn't make a grooming subplot.

You know in Curse of Strahd there's a controversial character Gertruda who 50 (500) year old Strahd is implied to planning take as another bride because of where you find her and in the book it states she's recently a teenager. However as much as I hate this plot line due to trauma I understand why it was added because WOTC portrays Strahd as a piece of shit. Like his goal is to chase down the reincarnation of his brother's fiance throughout time until he catches her, makes her a vampire and possibly brainwash/assault her to make her love him. Strahd is meant to be a gross creep. I as a DM and many other age Gertruda up to 18 because we don't want a pedo plot line and it keeps the predatory nature of Strahd intact.

Barbie seems to be portrayed in a significantly more positive light and her grooming behavior is never called out as a bad thing. Like Moxxie should say something at god damn least since he has morals.

There are so many things wrong with the EP. What gets me is writing has multiple stages, first the person needs to come up with the EP pitch, get the directer or network's approval, finish the first draft, then revisit it for grammar mistakes and continuity, then revise it a few more times for a stronger script, and send it to the directer or network again to approve of filming the finish script and that's not even counting how long animation takes too. So during the process of writing to animating, did no one at SpindleHorse see how weird and problematic the script was? The camp for pre-teens is called, "IWannaKumMore"(Their logo being a cum splat), Millie and Moxxie's human backstories of being siblings then making out at the end was unnecessary because they could have just been good friends whose mothers sent them to the same camp, Moxxie this grown ass adult who pretending to be a pre-teen is acting sexual and wants the kids attention, Millie who everyone else thinks is a young boy is getting sent nudes from kids and adults, and Barbie saying how easy teenagers are to manipulate then flash her ass to a boy is implying she grooms kids.

To be clear, I don't have a problem when a dark comedy make these types of jokes as all as they portray the topics and groomers as bad and show they understand that. SpindleHorse did not, like you mentioned they portrayed Barbie in the positive light and Moxxie never calls out her behavior despite being the voice of reason. In fact the tone of the Barbie's scene was supposed to funny but not in a dark ironic way. I don't understand why the camp couldn't be for college students and the consolers are stated and look like actual adults. Everything about the canon camp is childish and filled with teenagers, it's very uncomfortable to see them in sexual situations. In America the youngest a camp counselor can be is 15 y/o but that changes from states to states so no body has a clue, also with the camp counselor having a pitch voice, Barbie referring to him as kid and teenager and him, not once trying to correct her about his actual age, I'm convinced he was kid but Viv had to age him up for damage control.

I'm sorry if this response is all over the place because I'm having trouble describing my thoughts but the writers are in their 30s, and they saw nothing wrong? The writing for HB has been going down for a while now and it was fun to see how the writing could get worse but never in my years of watching awful shows did the writing get so bad, the writers had to resort to terrible jokes about sexualizing teenagers, making an incest joke, and a minor getting groomed unironically. I can't support a person or company that are fine making content like that.

"Unhappy Teenagers" was the first time, I have watched a show and felt a sinking feeling in my gut so much so it still lingers even a day later. I never felt so sick from watching a show and I'm sorry writers and companies think making this type of content and jokes of your trauma and abused experience is okay to do.

[pseudowho]

im the close friend dating anon (he wasnt my boyfriend but i'd liked him for over two years, so ig that makes things a little better, even though she still broke the most obvious girl code). i just read the onion scheme anon's ask and ive been laughing since. if i was a vengeful person, id absolutely do those to them.

however im more of a karma person, and i believe it will get to them sooner or later (my best friend has been planning their downfall). i recently found out some tea on their first date and id like to share it bcz i think its kind of funny.

so this friend of mine comes from generational wealth, her family is one of the richest families in our country. and the guy, while being upper middle class, isnt anywhere near her tax bracket. so on their first date, he took her to a very expensive restaurant and she ended up ordering multiple of the most expensive items, and didnt even finish any of the food. he then had to pay for the entire meal and it was wayy out of his budget.

now this may not seem like a big deal, or i might come off as mean for saying all of that negatively. but mind you, we are 18 year old highschool students. we start college next year and im sure most of us have financial stress right now (not that she can relate). the bill they got is more than the monthly salary i get at my job.

like i understand guys may want to pay on dates, but then she wouldve been a little more mindful in ordering 😭. ever since everything happened, ive been seeing her in a whole new light and honestly she's so tone deaf. the reason i still tolerate her is for the sake of the friendgroup and honestly i cant wait to graduate and never see them again.

also idk if you take emoji anons but id like to be 🕊️

All I'm saying, is entitlement starts early and is one of the hardest negative traits to shift if it remains established all the way into adulthood.

It sounds like your friend, unless she has a major shake-up, will never stop associating material wealth with displays of love/affection. Any person I've met, where that forms a foundational expectation upon their partner in a relationship, is never satisfied.

The truth is, if you adore someone, you could be sharing a small McDonald's fries, and their presence alone will turn whatever you do on the date into treasure and gold.

So...sorry for your guy who will bankrupt himself trying to buy your 'friend's affections. Sorry for the girl who will likely struggle to find a partner she truly wants, because all of her choices rely on 'getting something that someone else wants'; she saw something golden that you wanted, and took it. Because she could. Entitlement.

I really am sorry. Ultimately while you and this guy may never have ended up together, no true friend would weaponise that against you.

See it as a lesson learned, kiddo. Shed as many tears as you need over it, but never think that you didn't get him because you weren't good enough.

Perhaps he, too, will learn a lesson (though as an 18 year old boy, he's still got a long way to go), and one day you'll have grown into each other, and you'll laugh about this.

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

[occult-roommates]

A new beginning to an old story

Around five days after their walk in the park, Athena felt ready to invite Akva to her new apartment. The reason it took so long is mostly because she needed to clean it first, and also for Akva to have some free time in between her retail job and flying lessons, but now it was time.

Athena: Tadah! Akva: Oh wow, congratulation on getting your own place. It's actually pretty decent. Athena: Why are you surprised by that? Akva: Cause like, have you seen my apartment? I live with six grown adults and one baby, but we only have two bedrooms but Charlie refuses to share hers except with the baby. We barely have enough space, privacy is like a foreign concept to me now after living like this for more than three years. Athena: I mean, I'm just saying, I only have one bedroom, but I think it's spacious enough I could get at least one roommates. Akva: Also, I was about to ask how you can afford it, but I mean, it's the spice district, most people in the area don't make that much money in the first place. Athena: That's because Paisley pays me good. Like I said, I could have a roommate to make it easier but I don't absolutely need one. Especially since in college I had one that must be from Hell. Like imagine a dude who refuses to shower more than once a week in spite of being a gym rat, would leave his dirty dishes everywhere to the point we had bugs infestation multiple times, and would punch holes into walls on a regular basis. Even had to bail him out of jail after a DUI with the money I needed to pay for a new computer. Oh and also he'd let his used condoms around the apartment as a way to assert dominance over my "beta" ass. Akva: Cause this guy was getting laid???!!!

Anyway, Athena kept showing Akva around the place. It wasn't that decorated to her personality yet, 50% because she couldn't afford it yet, 50% because the landlord wouldn't let her repaint that sickly green or move the furnitures around that much.

Then, the two women sat down on the couch to continue their little chat.

Athena: Fun fact, you can see by the window the exact place where that plane landed in the Myshun river a few years ago. Akva: Oh wow, that's cool. I remember recently, Ralf and I went to an aviation museum that's in southern New York in hope of seeing part of that plane, but turns out it's in North Carolina. We still had fun though, after the museum we went to eat at the shadiest roadside dinner known to man. Athena: Who are you talking about? Akva: Ralf is my new father figure, you should meet him, he is really nice.

Akva then leaned in for a hug. It felt good to finally have a close friend back in town. It felt even more special now that she knew Athena was actually happy and not just pretending. Though, it did messed her up that she literally had no idea what she was going through. Then again, in her defense, she was living on the other side of the country, even if Athena was visibly unhappy, she couldn't have known. Yeah, they did saw each other from time to time, like when they briefly dated which caused Akva to get pregnant, but still, she could have very well hid how she felt.

Akva: And you know, it would feel even more special if instead of introducing you to him as my friend...

Akva tapped her laps and told Athena to sit here, so she did. Now that they were in a more intimade position, step 2.

Akva: I'd introduce you as my girlfriend.

Athena looked at her all red and then, they made out on the couch, as the cameraman panned away as to not creep on them. Maybe their first attempt at dating did not ended up super well, and let's be real, ruined Akva's life for a year, but this time is the right time. Round 2 will be different, round 2 will have a happy ending.

Prev - Next

[not-this-guy]

Once again, picking at your brain for your thoughts

What’re your reasons/ideas behind your top hc’s for Bro

i'm brain dead right now after a full shift so let me give you the long short list and a more general explanation of my general fascination with this guy

the basis of my takes and hcs on bro stem from approaching him and viewing him as a person who is flawed and wrong and misguided, but a person and not a generic one faced boogeyman. he is an abuser, he has a lack of boundaries and he has violent tendencies, but i don't look at it in a vacuum because unlike dave who's only ever seen what bro allowed him to see, we can look at him as a whole.

i picked him up a couple years ago in a group roleplay server, mainly as a "i don't trust anyone else to write him/haha wouldn't it be funny if" and since then he's been living rent free in my head - but he's out grown what canon gave us.

and the fundamentals of that are:

0 | SPITE, DISGUST AND FRUSTRATION: he is a fascinating character in his own right, but goddamn is he polarising and one prone to settle in the extremes of fandom perception to the point that people have to fucking tag him as a trigger warning nowadays, which makes people unwilling to interact and engage in more nuanced discussions of him out of avoidance of being harassed which is understandable. however this kind of left him as a character to the wolves, and now a lot of his more recent works and his entire tag in general in whatever site you use has been trashed by incestuous pedophiles - which makes people even less wiling to interact with the concepts brought up in his character. and honestly fuck that. i'm willing to endure dealing w their bullshit directly n i'm willing to call these people what they are (groomers sharing csa material for personal gratification and desensitisation) and i'm not giving them free reign of bro's tag anymore. these freaks should be rightfully shunned and mocked and judged where ever they go because they're too deep in self-denial to ever change.

I | EXTRAPOLATION: with alpha dirk's introduction we were left with a question, how could this kid end up like his beta session self? what could possibly drive the dirk we grow to like and see multiple facets of become this shell of a man? and boy do i love assuming and explaining shit away for people who are barely characters in their own right. free reign to do whatever i want baby.

II | BRAIN DAMAGE: the answer to that question is to chip away at the soul and to scramble a man's sense of reality. i haven't really been in the headspace for it but id love to one day fully explore the horrors of Bro and Lil Cal's codependency for those 30 some years. with that as a base (but not an excuse) i started to slowly piece him back together, and working with the 'undesirables' of mental illness. he is an unmedicafed paranoid schizophrenic with hoarding tendencies who was diagnosed with aspergers as a child... and then punished for it, being effectively abandoned by the system to fates whims and blamed for never having his needs met. his one solid connection at any point in time was lil cal. but instead of villanizing him for having these traits... i see him as someone who was trying to help, but was misguided by his closest confidant and blinded by his over controlling paranoid nature and compulsory need to one up people. everything bro did, he did to help dave... he just never stopped to think about if he was going about it the right way, because he saw dave as an extension of himself and thus of course thought his behaviour was appropriate, because he is acting as who he wished he had when he himself was a kid.

III | PROJECTING AND RELATABILITY: damn he just like me fr. aka on top of all of that, i've grown to attach some of my own traits onto him and vice versa as a means of coping with my own backstory and as a backwards way of acknowledging that my feelings are valid... by allowing bro strider of all people to also go through them and changing myself to have compassion for him.

there's more but look i forgot and m done eating my cold burger.

[starthetripledevil]

Mario Legacy Challenge: 1986 (Part 1)

Last year, Jumpman's boss Harrison Gibbs told him that the circus where they work will start traveling around the world. Meanwhile, his sons Mario and Luigi mastered their toddler skills.

Harrison has come to the Marios' house to pick up Jumpman so they can leave. Jumpman is still asleep so Lady has come to open the door. She also explains to Harrison that Jumpman would need to finish packing before he's ready to leave. Lady let's Harrison stay inside their apartment to wait.

And yes, Jumpman has agreed to join the circus in their travels and not lose his job. While he has to spend longer periods of time away from home, he still gets to return home multiple times per year.

This is the lot used for the circus. I also changed the lot type from residential to bar in order to use it without Sims actually living there (and changing it to generic would make nobody show up).

I didn't actually play every trip, just this first one and then a later one that's more plot relevant. The others can be assumed to take place off-screen.

Their first destination is certainly a much more natural location than Brooklyn. Some time before the first show, Jumpman and the others have some drinks.

During Jumpman's first performance, he spots Tony among the audience. He has come all the way to this place to watch this show (or maybe he also has another reason to be here, idk).

Harrison is already thinking about the next flight. Being the owner of the circus, he's the one who has to take care of arranging all the travels.

While Jumpman is on his first work trip, his daughter Pauline spends more time with her classmate Kayla. In fact, the two are best friends now.

The first bunch of shows is now over. He feels kind of stressed from the work, but he's happy about being promoted (which I assume is a direct result of the circus starting to travel to different locations).

Yet his moment of happiness of being back home has been ruined by Emmalyn playing loud music in her apartment... really? Just as he's back home? Fortunately, after Jumpman complains about the noise, Emmalyn instantly turns the music down.

Mario has taken off his clothes yet again... Jumpman thought the kid had already grown out of this phase but apparently not. Jumpman has to lecture him about the misbehavior. But also, Mario has become interested in video games (maybe he heard about them through daycare or something) and wants to have a gaming console.

Before Jumpman leaves for his next work trip, he wants to have some private romantic time with his wife. But it's hard with the kids around... will they ever have some time with just the two of them again?

Still, Jumpman does appreciate the time he gets to spend with his family, especially now that he's away from home for longer periods of time.

And of course, whenever Jumpman is back home, it means Lady doesn't have to take care of 3 kids, household chores and repairing broken objects all on her own. Right now, they can have each parent focus on a different twin.

Luigi seems to be interested in books now. I guess he has started learning to read and can't wait to be able to fully read books on his own.

One day after school, Pauline invites over her classmate Isaac. She tells him about her personal life goals... which seems to involve banana peels for some reason. Some kind of Mario Kart foreshadowing?

Jumpman returns home feeling tired after a long flight.

Lady starts feeling flirty as Jumpman returns home. So before Jumpman goes to sleep, the two have a romantic moment together.

Jumpman also tells her about the most recent trip. This time, the destination was a tropical island with lots of sunshine.

Pauline tries to have a friendly conversation with Emmalyn, but unfortunately Pauline still has a grudge from that one awkward conversation from about a year ago. It must have been very awkward if Pauline still feels this way.

Emmalyn has come over and suggests to Lady that the two should visit the local art gallery at some point. After all, it is probably Lady's favorite place to visit in the city.

Mario brings up gaming again. He must really want an NES! Right now, the Marios don't even have a TV yet. But things may be changing soon.

Pauline and Kayla go to a park together. They spend some time playing space explorer and then playing chess (helping Pauline work on her mental skill, which is currently her lowest of the 4 fundamentals).

As for other people here, we have teens Erin Yee (daughter of Jumpman's friend Lana Yee) and Caden (a random character who hasn't been seen in this LP before and probably won't appear again). Caden tries to impress Erin, but it doesn't go very well. Still, Caden seems to be quite happy. As he leaves the park, he thinks about a plane, so he's probably from some more distant location.

Lady and Emmalyn have gone to the art gallery as planned. They are looking at a statue, which seems to be a new addition to the gallery.

Another work trip is over. While at home, Jumpman is still thinking about a recent performance, which involved drums in some way.

Mario is wondering when he will finally be able to use the toilet. Pauline says that it will be when he's about as big as a dinosaur or something. Obviously an exaggeration.

Mario says that he's sure he'll be able to do it before his dad's next flight leaves. And he might be right. After all, Mario and Luigi are nearly six years old at this point.

Mario wakes up at 3 AM feeling quite playful. As so, he decides to spend the night stacking blocks.

However, too much playing makes Mario get angry. He starts screaming, which also wakes up his brother.

As for Pauline, at 11 years old, she is getting bored by toys.

For the rest of the year, see this post.

[mxcat777]

Oooooooohhhh...

The implications...

Allow me to ramble as my thoughts go along, hopefully I'll be able to type quickly enough...

So Dream meets Hob again. And not a few weeks later unmakes the Corinthian. There would be a possibility for changes in series canon timeline, but one thing at a time, I'll get to it.

So, Corinthian unmade, I'm choosing to believe that Dream can pretty much completely reconstruct him, be it with an added in failsafe or some such.

After he has done so, the Corinthian might still be Annoyed(tm), and honestly, who wouldn't be after being unmade by the guy who broke your dad's heart and with that his promise to you. After Matthew learns of the full situation this may be forcefully pointed out to Dream if the bloke does not realize himself. Which is, in all honesty, quite likely.

So. Dream realizes, one way or another, that he may have fucked up (no 'may have' about it, champ, but whatever you need to not throw a tantrum so long as you do, in fact, apologize), and goes to the Corinthian like, hey, uhm, I've been told I have acted inconsiderately, may I attempt to make this right?

So Dream goes to Hob. A Hob who is quite surprised to see his Friend after a mere month instead of a whole century. Naturally, his first question is if the end of the world is nigh. It isn't. Well, at least as far as his Friend is concerned. No, his Friend seems to have grown a singular social skill (still not nearly enough to warrant the plural 'skills') and says something along the lines of 'I've been reliably informed that friends see each other more often than once a century'. Hob enthusiastically agrees. He also then gets a name! Multiple even! Wow! Can this day get any better?

So they chat some, and they chat some more, and Hob can't help but notice his friend - Morpheus, or Dream - is... Nervous? About something? So Hob carefully, very carefully, asks, 'is something bothering you, my friend? You seem a bit twitchy, is all'.

Dream, still not used to the idea that Hob can read him so easily, reverts to his primal instincts, and Deflects. Hob evidently does not buy it, but doesn't push, and continues to ramble on about something or other. Dream, also not used to having his boundaries respected by anyone outside his subjects, is thrown for another loop, before shaking himself and, quite rudely, upon reflection, interrupts Hob with 'there is something I wish to tell you'.

Hob knows this. He falls silent, replies 'ok, go ahead', and waits, patiently, while Dream scrapes together all the tact he possesses.

'This is something I should have told you long ago. I have been trying to do better, recently. This is part of that, and I hope you may forgive me in time for keeping this from you for so long.'

Hob's starting to get a little worried now. The guy kept quiet about his name for over 600 years, for pity's sake, he hasn't apologized for that, let along begged for forgiveness in advance!

'Dream is not only my name, but my function and the definition of my being as well. I am the lord and creator of all dreams. I have created many, and all of them unique. All except one are completely of the dreaming, of my realm. That one, however, I created around a soul who never took my sister's hand, who was roaming the earth restlessly.'

'Your sister?'

'Death. She was with me in 1389, she found you amusing, and encouraged me to approach you. The reason you do not die is because she refuses you her gift. If ever you change your mind, you must simply call for her, and she will come to you.'

'Right. Good to know. That wasn't what you wanted to tell me, right?'

'No. I-'

He stops. This is hard. Words have never been this hard. Gathering the courage to speak of certain things may be, but the specific words and phrasing have always come easily to the Prince of Stories.

'It's about that dream, right?'

'Nightmare. Yes. He is my best work. Recently, a lot occurred surrounding him. He rebelled against me. I had to unmake and later remake him. I now understand why it all happened. That is what I am trying to set to rights, but. It is hard. The words resist coming to me. But must tell you. It is only right.'

'Would it be easier to show me, or is it not something that can be shown?'

'It is. And it might be. Can I find you in your home this evening?'

'Uhh, yeah, yes, of course! This all seems very serious, should I prepare for bad news?'

'I hope you will not take it as such, though there is a chance. I will leave should you ask me to.'

'Oh shit. That bad, huh?'

'Possibly.'

[A.N. holy shit that got away from me, I'll revert back to outlining now, I don't actually have the time to write a whole ass one-shot on the fly]

Evening comes.

Dream arrives. With the Corinthian in tow.

The Corinthian is Nervous as fuck. You thought Dream was nervous about Hob's reaction, triple that and you're getting somewhere near the Corinthian.

He's about to meet his dad. With teeth for eyes. He's a little insecure alright!

Hob opens the door.

For a second, he doesn't recognize him, with the modern clothes and the sunglasses and the way he's turned away slightly because of the nerves.

But then. [Good lord, here we go again, dialogues must be written, I'm SORRY!]

'Robin?'

A sharp inhale and a twitch, nothing more.

'Robin, my boy, is it you? Is it truly you? Tell me, please speak to me, if it is indeed you, my s-'

Hob's voice breaks. The Corinthian is trembling. He hasn't had anyone call him that since he died. Since he tore himself out of Death's embrace to haunt that fucker who killed him.

He feels a hand on his cheek, under his chin. Lifting his face up and making him look directly into Hob's eyes. His father's eyes. Those exact same, brown, kind, warm eyes. Except that they are older, so much older than he knew them. And they're crying. He's crying too, he now notices. Hob wipes away the tears rolling down his cheek, his hand coming away bloodstained. He doesn't even look at it.

'My little bird. It really is you, is it not?'

A sob wracks its way through the Corinthian. He is so close to breaking. Or has he broken already? He doesn't know, doesn't care, because it doesn't matter. His dad is here, his papa, and it'll be okay, if he breaks, Dad will help him put all the pieces back together.

Another sob escapes him, and even more tears start flowing. Hob steps closer and, with trembling fingers, lifts the glasses away.

Immediately, the Corinthian turns hus face down, away, hide it, hide his hideousness, the part of him that used to be his mother's eyes, untill that son of a bitch slashed a knife through them. And now they're not even blind, ruined eyes. They're nothing like eyes. They're what makes him a monster, a nightmare.

But then, again, the gentle hands of his father, slowly turn his face back up. He expects to see, not disgust, exactly, he knows his father, he wouldn't be disgusted, that would maybe even be bearable, that's no different than what he himself feels. But he does expect to see anger, shock, fear, devastation, or something similar. Maybe pity.

There is some shock in Hob's eyes, though not nearly as much as he expected. More like surprise than shock. But other than that. The Corinthian doesn't see anything other than-

Stop. No. Wait.

He can't-

Why would he-

He's not supposed to- no- Dream made him like this, it makes sense that he is pleased with him this way. But not his- not him!

He isn't human anymore! He's a nightmare, a monster, a thing! A horrendous thing! Without his mother's eyes.

So why.

Why is there still so much of it.

It shouldn't be there.

But he is so. So thankful it is.

He isn't broken yet. He knows now. Because he can now feel his final piece of control tremble.

Another sob. More blood. Hob's hands are streaked with red now. He hardly notices.

'Robin...'

He smiles. His next words come out in nothing more than a whisper.

'My son.'

He breaks. He is not sobbing anymore, he's weeping. His knees buckle and strongwarmsafehomedad arms catch him and pull him close.

They're still standing in the hallway.

Five minutes later, Hob realizes this, and slowly pulls his son inside. Dream doesn't follow. Hob looks at him. He's standing awkwardly, and resignedly outside, looking ready to leave. Hob will not have it.

'Get inside.'

His voice is hoarse. Oh, yes, he's crying too.

Dream looks very uncertain, but he obeys. He closes the door with a soft *snick* that is still way too loud and flinches. He stands inside the door.

Hob guides his son to the couch, his child, who might not in the most accurate sense be alive, but he's here. With him. And fuck all the rest, what does it matter.

Dream follows through the hall and stands just inside the living room.

'Explain.'

Dream flinches again. Hob frowns.

'What are you- I'm not mad! Why the fuck would I be mad! Just. Please, explain this miracle to me!'

An agonized sound escapes from the bundle of limbs in Hob's arms.

'Robin?'

Another sound, and then,

'...how is this a miracle.'

Dream looks to be made of stone, agonizing, rather be anyone, anywhere, anywhen else, stone.

'How-? My Little Bird, you are here, in my arms! How can it not be!'

'I'm-'

'Don't you dare call yourself anything bad! Dream said you are his masterpiece and I'd say he should know! More importantly, you're my Robin! You're mine! And I love you!'

Hob feels the body in his arms shudder and shock against him as his shirt slowly gets soaked red.

He looks back up at Dream.

'Please.'

Dream explains. It's slow going, with more broken off sentences and hesitation than the Corinthian has ever experienced from him. But he tell the story on of the Corinthian.

Hob is silent for a long moment after. Dream almost makes to leave, when Hob speaks.

'Sit down.'

'Pardon?'

'You were about to leave because you thought I wanted you to. Sit down.'

Dream sits down.

Hob is quiet for a while longer.

'Thank you.'

Dream stares at him.

'Why...'

'You cared enough to take him in. You had no obligation to. Amd you reunited us.'

Dream stares again.

'After I kept him from you for over four centuries!'

'Yes.'

Dream doesn't understand. It must show on his face.

'It will take some time before I can forgive that, you're right. But that doesn't stop me from being eternally grateful that I got to see him again at all. And I don't see much point in kicking you out after you decided to make things right.'

Dream is silent after that. He takes a moment to fully realize and appreciate what he has in Hob.

Meanwhile, the Corinthian has regained his breath. He tries to say something. It takes him a few tries. His voice isn't working. Eventually, he manages a hoarse whisper.

'Dad.'

Hob, for the first time in over four hundred years, hears his son call for him.

'My Little Bird. I'm here.'

Robin, for the first time in over four hundred years, sinks into his dad's embrace and smiles.

What if AU... What if the Corinthian was Robin Gadling?

Dream, inspired and empathetic of Hob Gadlings plight following 1689, desires to watch over the young soul of Robin Gadling. Thus he seeks out his Sister, to request he be given into Dream's care as a raven. But Robin never took his sisters hand. He lingers on in the Waking world, an angry spectre. Vengeful, blind from where Thomas Shelply slashed his eyes. Desperately calling for his Father's aid and comfort.

So Dream salvages what he can. Uses that dark energy to fashion a nightmare. A dark mirror of the human that once was. Full of the Gadling lust for life, but violent, hedonistic... Constantly wanting.

The Corinthian serves Dream faithfully beacuse it is what his father would wish. Becomes the pinnacle of Dream's Nightmares because it is the Dream Lord and his Sister who prolong his father's life. Existing on the promise that one day he will be allowed to reunite with his father in the Waking. Until 1889.... When Dream cruelly severs himself from the one thing that keeps the Corinthian truly loyal to him...Hob Gadling.

From that moment on, his thoughts turn to vengeance for his father's heartbreak. Insuring his freedom to return to permanently to the Waking world, to watch over his Father

[carletes]

Omg I also was thinking about hgiftbn today! I have a question about it if that’s ok? Food and cooking have such a significant meaning for carlos obv, so would lando ever try to cook something for him? Like call carlos’ mum for a recipe that carlos loves to surprise him with? Regardless of if he’s gonna succeed making it or not, would he even try?

*SCREAMS* ANON. @chilinorris and I talked about this VERY recently. And this is actually set in a world alone, not in hgiftbn, though I can imagine it happening in p much any universe.

--

Carlos missed his mother's cooking. Lando couldn't blame him; he hadn't grown up with her cooking, yet he missed Reyes' cooking as well. And even though Lando thought Carlos' approximations of Reyes' food were pretty goddamn good, Carlos did not think so.

It was with that thought, then, that Lando called Reyes a few days before Carlos' birthday one year and begged her to walk him through her paella recipe and an assortment of tapas.

"Ay, Landito, you are such a good boy. I am sure he will love it no matter what!"

For some reason, that didn't inspire much confidence in Lando. Still, he got all the groceries required (multiples, actually, of each amount needed - just in case he fucked up that bad) the day before, and sent Carlos off on an absurd chain of chores so that he'd be out of his hair for a long time on his actual birthday.

Carlos shot him a look like, really? Really? On my birthday? and then shot him another look along the lines of Ohhh, I see what's going on. Regardless of all the looks shot, he kissed Lando's lips quite sweetly and went off on his adventure.

Once the house was secured, Lando got Reyes on FaceTime, sighed deeply, and said, "Okay. What could possibly go wrong?"

He immediately regretted tempting fate. Despite Reyes' detailed instructions, he burnt a whole head of garlic, started a small grease fire, and nearly sliced the tip of his thumb off. When he was ready to give up and order in sushi - to make Carlos happy and for Lando to serve penance - Reyes, uncharacteristically sternly, said, "No, Landito. You are nervous. That is why you are making mistakes, no?"

Lando bit his lip and nodded. Reyes smiled warmly at her son-in-law and said, "Ah, mi hijo, you must relax. Food can sense emotion. And what emotion do you want Carlos to feel when he eats your food, eh?"

Lando thought about it. Then, quietly, he said, "I want him to feel like he's back home. With all of us."

Reyes' smile only warmed further, and Lando longed to hug his suegra. "Then you must remember what it's like when you are in Madrid with us, and use that to cook. Sí?"

How did it feel, being with the Sainzes? It felt like Reyes' smile: warm, supportive, endlessly loving, patient. It was the closest thing to being with his own parents. And when they were all together...

Lando nodded. He understood. "Sí."

They began anew, and this time, cooking went a lot better. He was actually on a roll and quite nearly done when the front door opened. Lando yelped and whipped around to face Carlos, trying to hide the stove top with his body.

"What are you doing here?!"

"This is my home," Carlos said, grinning. Then he yelled, "¡Hola, mamá!"

"¡Hola, mi amor!" Reyes replied, and Lando charged over to Carlos and hissed, "You're not supposed to be home yet!"

"You said 6:30-"

"I don't care what I said! You need to go away!"

"Ay, Lando, that's very mean of you," Carlos teased, leaning in for a kiss. Lando dodged Carlos' lips and started pushing him back out of the house.

"Go get some gains!"

"I did!"

"Go find some more!"

From behind them, Reyes chimed, "Yes, Carlos, you must leave! Go! Go!"

Carlos laughed and turned around, holding his hands up in surrender. "Okay! Okay! Have fun!"

With Carlos dispatched, again, Lando clapped his hands and rushed back to the kitchen. "Is anything burning?!"

"I don't know, Landito, you have me on the counter."

It took another half hour and then everything was complete, plating included. Lando showed Reyes the display and she seemed so proud, he couldn't help but internalize some of it. He kissed her goodbye over FaceTime, and then texted Carlos.

-ok u can come home now

-thx for the permission

And then within seconds, Carlos walked back in through the front door, and Lando glared at him. "Have you just been sitting out in the car?!"

Carlos shrugged and flapped a book back at Lando. "I never get to read," he explained. "This was good. And," Carlos said, walking closer to Lando. He set his hands on Lando's hips and kissed his nose. "You look good. And everything smells good."

Lando beamed at him, his annoyance evaporating. He took Carlos hand and brought him to the dining table, then declared, "Happy birthday!"

Carlos stared at the feast, his eyes wide and his mouth parted in a big smile. "Mi vida," he breathed, before turning to Lando, scooping him up, and spinning him around. Lando laughed and clung to him. "This is amazing!"

"Yeah?" Lando asked, feeling shy. Carlos nodded and kissed him over and over. Lando laughed and wriggled out of his husband's arms.

"Well then go on and eat! I don't want it to get cold!"

Carlos grinned widely and said, "Yes, chef," and Lando's heart warmed desperately. He watched Carlos eat with great interest, savoring every delighted noise, each sigh and moan, each appreciative exclamation of, "Lando!"

Lando wondered if this meal was his greatest accomplishment. Definitely top ten, for sure, with marrying Carlos being number one. Then, then, at the end of the meal, Carlos gazed at him silently for a long while before saying, "Lando. Don't be mad."

Suddenly, Lando's heart fell. "W-what?"

"I don't want you to be mad."

"Oh, Jesus, Carlos, is it actually bad?"

"What? No, no, dios, no. It's just that-" and he stopped, and smiled, and reached for Lando's hand, and said, "I can tell that this was made with love."

Food can sense emotion.

Lando teared up and let Carlos pull him into his lap, even as he said, "Carlos, that is so gay I could fucking kill you."

They kissed for a few moments as Lando shored himself up. Then he said, "I'm sorry it's not the same as mamá's."

"Ay, Lando," Carlos murmured, half-chastising, half-comforting, "Mamá has her food, and you have your food. And I love Lando's food."

Oh, Jesus. Lando knocked his forehead against Carlos' stupid shoulder a few times, hissing, "I hate you. You're so fucking sweet."

And then, because that wasn't bad enough, Carlos started hand-feeding Lando because Lando hadn't been eating, so nervous was he about Carlos' opinion. And- well, it wasn't exactly like Reyes'. It wasn't as good.

But even Lando had to admit, it was still pretty fucking good.

Later, Carlos insisted on cleaning the kitchen (a huge mess) with Lando, even though it was his birthday.

"Ay, what am I supposed to do? Wait for you to finish? By myself?" he had said with a serious expression on his face.

Lando sighed and kissed him and acquiesced. Carlos could do whatever he wanted on his birthday, he supposed. And it was one of the better experiences he'd had washing dishes, with Carlos' arms around his waist, his lips on Lando's neck and cheek and hair, murmuring sweet words about what a good husband Lando was and how much Carlos adored him.

Lando couldn't help it. He turned his head once the dishes were done, kissed Carlos' lips, and whispered, "Mi vida."

Carlos' eyes turned watery, deep with emotion. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and turned Lando around to face him properly. "Now," he said, their noses pressed together, "You are mine."

And as Carlos picked him up and whisked him up to their bed to kiss him and touch him and make love to him, Lando agreed: he was Carlos'. Always.

Maybe he'd start cooking more.

[1kook]

card swiped (3)

→ jeon jungkook x (f) reader

→ Now, Jungkook was never one for romance, far from the sappy type. But why couldn’t he word it more softly, gently? He wasn’t just trying to fuck you, he was trying to… make love.  GENRE romance, smut, teensy angst WARNINGS eventual smut, mentions of sex, virginity plays a huge role OTHER college crushes, childhood friends to lovers, besties to lovers, volleyball player!jk, student council pres!oc, seokjin is 32... and a a coach lol<3 RATING m (18+) WC 1.5k

NOTES (!) seokjin being a hot 32 year old <3 jk gets progressively more dumb as it goes, prayer circle <3 lmk what u think !

[ masterlist ]

The truth is, the reason Jungkook doesn’t lie that much is because he’s terrible at it. 

His mother had found out soon enough who put that dent on the car after a slip-up at the dinner table. His high school coach had learned he had purposely skipped out on practice after an accidental snapchat and jealous teammate had snitched. And, well. Fifteen minutes after the end of practice finds him sitting outside the gymnasium, a grimace on his face as he considers running back to your room and confessing to all his lies. Admitting he’s still a virgin— which was practically of no use to you —and maybe even revealing his own recently uncovered feelings was the easy way out. 

Thankfully, Assistant Coach Kim Seokjin is there to knock some sense into him. The hard plastic of the clipboard they use to outline their attacks smacks him hard over the head, making Jungkook’s bones rattle from his skull down to his toes as he steps up behind him. He whirls around to glare at the perpetrator, only to come face to face with the aforementioned assistant coach. “Go home,” Seokjin says, twirling the gym keys in one hand. “I’m trying to lock up.”

“What’s stopping you,” Jungkook huffs, tucking his knees to his chest, ignoring the awfully rude manner in which Seokjin nudges him away, foot against his back as if he’s just an annoying pile of cardboard boxes in his way.

“What’s wrong with you today?” Seokjin asks casually, doesn’t sit next to Jungkook on the steps because he’s always been a little too posh. According to Taehyung, Kim Seokjin graduated from some elite university in another country with near immaculate all-around player statistics before Jungkook even knew what a volleyball was. His success and fame in the world of collegiate volleyball is why he never wears the standard-issued slippers around the court, always some high-end, luxury brand. One glance slightly to his left has Jungkook meeting the black stripe of the frequently sought after Givenchy sneakers head on. 

He scoffs, a sound that Seokjin doesn’t approve of if the karate chop he lands on the back of his neck is anything to go by. “Ow,” Jungkook flinches, pushing him away with an irritated sigh before eventually slumping over his knees again because it’s the exact same thing you do to him sometimes. Study nights— dates, his brain supplies now —where he begins gazing off into space are filled with numerous karate chops to the neck in an effort to get him to focus on his homework. “Come on, Jungkookie,” you always tease, playful smile, lithe fingers toying with the corners of the pages in your book in a way that was almost sensual. But then he does a double-take because he’s aware of the rose-tinted lens he’s unknowingly slapped over it, something he would have maybe not noticed pre-realization of his feelings. And even he is shocked by the absolute seductiveness his brain inserts into an otherwise innocent memory. He’s pretty sure you haven’t called him Jungkookie in years— was his brain trying to hint at something here?

Jungkook groans, knocking his head against his knees as a form of self-punishment for his lecherous thoughts concerning his best friend. 

But his show of emotions must move Assistant Coach Kim because, after a moment of trying to concuss himself against his own knee, there’s a hand placed on his shoulder that makes Jungkook pause. He doesn’t even bother turning around, just throws his head back to look at Seokjin upside down. He’s got a double chin from this angle. “It’s a girl, isn’t it,” his coach sighs, looking at Jungkook with what can only be described as an unimpressed expression. 

“No,” Jungkook defends even though it’s true. “Can’t I just be sad for oth—“

“I heard Jimin call you a simp on the way out,” Seokjin says rather bluntly. And then he surprises Jungkook a second time as he throws aside his posh status to sit on the dirty concrete steps beside him with a sigh. “What did you do?” 

See, Jungkook could lie here and prance off to deal with his own problems. Leaving Seokjin and everyone else in the dark concerning his personal life was, honestly speaking, the smartest thing to do. He didn’t mind his volleyball teammates and friends (in this case, his coach), but he also wasn’t too fond of being relentlessly teased throughout the entire five or more hours they spent together almost every day of the week. 

But also… 

If what Taehyung had said is true— that being, if Kim Seokjin is the illustrious bachelor who charmed his way into multiple foreign panties all whilst demolishing the spirits of liberos and defensive specialists in another country —then Jungkook needed to capitalize off his presence immediately. 

So he lays his cards out flat. “I… might’ve told my best friend I’d take her virginity,” he blurts out, turning to face Seokjin. For the most part, the older man doesn’t look too surprised. If anything, mildly amused. Jungkook quickly adds, “while also being a virgin.” 

“You’re a what,” Seokjin exclaims, chokes on his own saliva in an admittedly not Casanova, bachelor-esque fashion that ends with him coughing into his elbow and Jungkook hurriedly patting his back. “You?” Seokjin repeats once he’s composed himself. “Are a— don’t you have a girlfriend?”

Jungkook’s cheeks warm. “No, Coach. I do not have a girlfriend,” he emphasizes, because who knew sharing the details of his (lack of) sex life would be this embarrassing? 

Seokjin frowns. “What about that girl?” he asks, and Jungkook raises his brows. “You know the one. Carries around stacks of papers to sign, goes to all the games. The one who pats you on head all the time.” And he’s talking about you, of course he is, but the insinuation that other people might, maybe, possibly, perceive you as his girlfriend makes Jungkook malfunction. 

“She’s— That’s—“ he sighs, dropping his head down until his chin touches his chest, brushed against the lucky necklace you’d given him two years ago during their first trip to Nationals. “That’s… my best friend.” 

Beside him, Seokjin says, “the one you’re gonna fuck?” 

Jungkook lets out a long exhale. “Yes. The one I’m going to fuck.” And it’s so blunt and crude, not that it’s surprising coming from him, but it’s surprising because he’s talking about you. Now, Jungkook was never one for romance, far from the sappy type. But why couldn’t he word it more softly, gently? He wasn’t just trying to fuck you, he was trying to… make love. 

The thought must show on his face because Seokjin snorts. “Well, good luck.” 

And then he stands up and begins walking down the sidewalk and Jungkook can’t spring up fast enough. “Wait,” he gasps, clutching at his forearm. He feels like a dorky character in those dramas you like so much, the ones you force him into watching every time he comes over. Like he’s some disgraced son looking for his father’s approval. Except Assistant Coach Kim is neither his father nor someone he really wants approval from anyway. 

What he does want is pointers. From an experienced pro, if you will. 

Jungkook has to swallow down all his pride as a man to ask his next question. “H- How do I—“

Seokjin beats to it him with a flick to the forehead. “I’m your volleyball coach, kid,” he frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not your sex coach.” It’s a sensible rejection, one that Jungkook expected, but still. He deflates, let’s the weight of the world and his heavy gym bag nearly knock him onto the ground. 

But Assistant Coach Kim Seokjin is kinder than he lets on and, after one annoyed sigh, let’s him in on the secret Jungkook has been chasing for all his life. (Or, well, for the past few hours since he first propositioned you.)

“The key to impressing your partner is to always act like you know what you’re doing,” he tells him, arms crossed over his shoulders. It’s night now, the campus shrouded in darkness. But Jungkook swears a heavenly light shines down on Kim Seokjin just then, a halo appearing over his head when he jabs a finger against Jungkook’s chest. “Confidence is sexy.” 

“Confidence is sexy,” Jungkook repeats, feels like a kid who’s just met his favorite wrestler after years of being an avid fan, watching every match, memorizing every finishing move, collecting every figurine— it’s a little too specific but it makes sense in Jungkook’s case. You would understand this analogy perfectly, having grown alongside him during his iconic wrestling phase (before volleyball). You had indulged him in his interest, had let him practice those Do Not Try at Home moves on you again and again, even when you knew it ended with you bruised and crying, the twin pigtails you used to rock as a kid uneven and messy. But as your best friend, you had let him twist your arm and pin you to the count of three, because that’s what a good best friend did. 

And as your best friend, Jungkook was gearing himself up to completely, thoroughly rock your virgin world. Because that’s what a good best friend did.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[strangerthings4theories]

Hello dearies <3 can't remember if you talked about this in some of your older posts (can't seem to find anything on your blog), but I was curious, if any of you read Runaway Max, what do you think about the *spoiler* dead cat on fire episode :o a long time ago someone (can't remember who, sorry) in the fandom said Billy might have had an episode of dissociation :o

I do talk about it briefly in this post discussing the similarities between Billy and the Demogorgon. This is a great topic though, so I'm happy to expand on what I said. It'd be useful to switch back and forth between Doylist (= focusing on the writer's logic/intentions) and Watsonian (= explaining it in-universe) interpretations here. Since my previous post addresses the topic from a more Doylist perspective, I'll tackle that first.

The Doylist answer:

I believe the Duffers had a discussion with the author of Runaway Max where they said, "Yeah, we want Billy to 'echo' the Demogorgon. What can you do with that?" Together, they came up with the idea of giving Billy a parallel scene to Dart eating Dustin's cat. After all, as I've mentioned multiple times recently, Dart is basically Billy's Demogorgon twin.

The dead-cat-on-fire scene was calculated to achieve the same thematic effect as Dart eating Mews. It's not truly horrific because the cat's already dead. Still, it's the moment Max realizes Billy is dangerous.

Intriguingly, the scene also calls back to El in S1 being asked to hurt a cat in the lab. She refuses, and Dr. Brenner has her dragged to the closet, where - in her panic - she kills the guards holding her.

So, as you can see, the theme of hurting cats links Billy with El and the Demogorgon. You could write an entire essay on what it tells us about them 😁 And that's no accident. The Duffers had to plan this out AND collaborate with the author to keep their theme consistent.

(See also: the book describing Billy's Camaro as an underwater creature, shark-like, etc, when the Demogorgon was inspired by the shark in Jaws. The Duffers had to tell the author to do this.)

Now for the Watsonian answer:

Yes, I could see Billy having a dissociative episode there. People tend to dissociate when they feel deeply threatened. If we study the scene closely, we can make the case that Billy does indeed feel that way.

When the scene begins, Billy's upset by his friend Sid besting him on a history paper. Or at least, that's what the dialogue suggests. Billy's not the type to care about grades, so the real reason has to be much deeper than that. My theory is Billy, the "king" of his friend group, has started to feel threatened by Sid. Previously his most trusted "advisor," Sid has grown disenchanted with his behavior and stopped listening to him. The history paper represents Sid's breakaway moment where, in Billy's eyes, he's making a bid for the throne. When you depend on the kingship to feel safe, like Billy does, losing it isn't just uncomfortable. It feels like a threat to your survival.

So, yeah. It's a great setup for a blackout episode.

Whether Billy blacks out or not, his end goal is the same: send a message to Sid. Let him know that threats to Billy's power will not be tolerated. And he succeeds because, iirc, we don't see Sid again. Only Wayne, the crazed hype-man, is present when Billy breaks Nate's arm. (Another scene where Billy probably dissociates)

Thanks for the great question! 😁✨