#and occasionally remember to post them here

[pricegouge]

unfortunately due to @quarterlifekitty @angellake and @fulltacs yammering at me about these posts, i can't stop thinking about price and a little fairy sized reader so uh. here's this very specific ass thing.

unlucky foot

cw: f!reader. microphilia, abduction, dubcon/noncon, overstimulation, objectification, orgasm control. oral, but make it as weird as possible i guess. noncon bodymod. he's cut off her wings but it's off-screen and not described. extremely wrong fairy lore MDNI

his name is price. you've only gathered that recently, after overhearing so many of his conversations. he'd never bothered to introduce himself, had simply snuck up on you in his garden one day, sudden shadow eclipsing the warm wash of sun over your naked skin the only warning you got before he'd snatched you up in rough fingers, his grip crumpling a wing so you couldn't escape even of you'd managed to wriggle your way free. he'd since cut them off entirely, a phantom ache in your back every time your nerves kick in, make you flighty.

well, try to, at least.

mankind has a way of stripping the world around them bare, taking the essence of creature and leaving it limping away. call it a mercy to have let it live. rabbits and their feet, etcetera. fairy honey - the slick that drips from between your thighs, nectar-sweet and filled with the addictive zing of magic - is your unlucky foot. it's what got you caught in the first place, got the freedom of mobility ripped from you. your trapper even wears it like a status symbol.

you've met other unfortunate fairies since being with him. they all stared at you in pity from between the bars of the cages they were locked in. price didn't even bother with one, kept you tucked into his breast pocket when not in use because he knew you would never make it far. a fall from his pocket alone might kill you, the towering beast. still, the pocket is preferable. a lack of wings isn't the only thing that draws pity from your fellow captives.

"me, ah like mah honey best in mah tea," the man declares. soap, price has called him. an odd name for such a vulgar man. "perfect amount of sweetness. an' my girl, she's always ripe first thing in the morn'."

the girl tosses her head at his words, embarrassed. or maybe at his ministrations, blunt fingertip working between her legs as she arches and cried under him, her honey leaking onto his finger, copious enough it drips down to his knuckle when he leaves her squirming, unsatisfied, just to swirl his dirty finger into his steaming drink. you hope it burns, sloughs his finger tip right off. he barely even flinches.

on the table, shaking pleasure, his girl composes herself enough to try crawling away. she doesn't make it very far before being dumped back into her cage, but even still you envy her.

price's teeth clench around you, blunted edges of his molars dimpling your skin, holding you in place off to the side of his mouth so he can use his tongue for its intended purpose for once, growling a response in a voice deep enough to rattle around your skull. you don't think you'll ever be used to it. "don't need all the fanfare."

by fanfare he means food. drink, maybe. anything to dilute the potency. most humans, they milk their girls much like soap had, work them until their shaking in overstimulation and dripping like a font. price had never bothered with the middle man, preferred a direct line to his greatest addiction, kept you tucked under his tongue more often than not, the itchy hairs of his mustache tickling your nipples. he'd suck on you occasionally, tongue your cunt as an afterthought when he remembered you weren't one of the thick cigars he sometimes smoked - that you needed more to give him what he wanted. at least he's quite accommodating, when he does remember.

soap reminds him, it seems, his throaty groan when he tips back his cup enough to have price hollowing his cheeks. your cunt pulses lazily, the traitor, skin gone sensitive and pruney with his saliva. he's been doing this all morning, sufficing himself on the slow leak of honey he draws from you rather than a proper dose. you kick at him feebly, one leg trapped between his teeth as the other tries to fend off his tongue. he's well-used to your antics by now, simply shifts you up to roof of his mouth so your soft belly scrapes threateningly across his incisors before letting you settle into the bowl of his jaw. his tongue widens when he pulls it back towards his throat, bullies into your core until you're bandy-legged, sprawled so wide around the muscle that your toes catch on his molars. he suckles at you again, hard. enough so that you can feel it tugging at every inch of you, enough that it draws you minutely further into his mouth. his lips are soft, slick. not the worst thing he's ever slid you across.

"likes tha', does she?"

price shrugs, pushes you off to the side of his mouth again. "likes it enough," he replies, much to soap's amusement, and works his tongue against you expertly as if to prove his point. it's hard to stay stoic even when you want to, his tongue so hot and overwhelming. you're too busy trying to keep your moans stifled to notice how he twists you, rolling your around until his bottom teeth dig up under your ribs, uncomfortable enough that you try to push against his chin just to keep your weight off them.

he doesn't make you suffer for long, at least. a hairy finger wedges under your belly, another hooking over your back. he pulls you from between his teeth like he'd hold a cigar, your plump ass on display for him when your legs fall from his mouth. you hang there, limp, the fight gone from you even as you can't meet the other fairy's eyes. you just want to cum, want him to return you to his pocket so you can burrow into the warmth of it and hide your naked body from his friend's prying eyes. instead, he twists his hand around to show soap the shine of your honey leaking from your cunt, graciously offers the man a taste.

you shudder and huff when soap's tongue drags over you, face burning with the realization that price doesn't even care enough to notice your pleasure.

soap groans again, deeper than before, like he suddenly finds his tea insufficient. "got ye'self a sweet one," he praises, and john hums in agreement, thumbs some more slick from your cunt just to lick it clean.

"and pretty," he adds, turning you about on his palm so he can show you off properly, callused finger ghosting over your exposed belly. "could use some piercings, though, what do you think? get her nipples done so i don't harm my teeth... get her a nice chain. could turn her into a necklace."

[mothking-rising]

Got a rude response from someone I reblogged from so I'm making my own post about Ice Flight because um--

Hey Ice Flight can be pretty cool actually and be different from the rest of the flights, and this post is gonna be my two cents about it. I've seen people go around just summing it up as "cops" when just like every other Flight they can be so much more?

While first, I do agree that Ice’s aesthetic is kinda weak as is. Not a lot you can do with the same winter themes over and over with the occasional broken chain motif. I’d love to see people get creative to what they think Ice represents and how they contribute to Sornieth’s systems, cultures, and dragons as a whole.

I see ice flight specializing in stuff like collection and cataloguing as iirc before the map update it said those were things Ice Flight likes. I think where Earth is Uncovering What Was, Ice is about Preserving What Is.

They’re not entirely just cops (and even then stripping them to just the role of "cop" is a bad take). They’re also researchers of the things they fear, and of relics that need studying. In my head Ice would probably have the best museums, archives, and storage houses. What better way to preserve or trap something than in ice?

They’re a flight of Order, not so much in the sense of cops and law but a flight that bulks when there’s a sense of disorder or chaos, disorganization, and imperfection. If it’s uncategorized, unsorted, then it needs to be so in order to be learned. Where Lightning is stats and progression, Ice is pattern recognition (Tundra’s memory being linked to their smell may also reflect this) and tradition (Gaolers role system and lack of awareness about the state of Sornieth and not just the Ice Fields).

This can be extended then into interests, individual home cultures, businesses and what not. Why not start a collection of rocks? Or insects? They’d know best how to preserve it. Need something specific from the shop? Probably very easy to find if you know the qualities and traits you’re looking for. Need something preserved for safe keeping? They’ll do that, and they’ll do it awfully well. Perfectly. The systems have to be perfect. The line up has to be perfect and up-kept and looked after intensely— possibly so intense it’s evolving into passion. There can certainly be a sense of pride.

Combine with the lore that Ice is typically more hostile to outsiders due to their melting home I can see them being much more traditional and closed off. Not quite isolated, but having a more unique culture that’s a little more closed off from others and not quite as shared, trying to preserve what is left of their home and traditions.

What about urban legends and superstition? They’re guarding creatures and horrors in those prisons, surely the local resident dragons have folklore over that? What about fishing and hunting, two very popular ways to get food or supplies in climates like these? Where are the ice fisherman skins or hunters bound in furs? What about the fauna or flora found in the region we can probably make skins for that too.

Existential horror can also be fun; remember, relatively recently Gaolers learned that Sornieth has changed. Dragons of other flights have other magic not native to their elements and in addition the age old threat of Shade that seems to be making new problems for new times.

We have a flight literally dealing first hand with monsters and horrors existing already on the planet and in its own prisons and fighting against it, yet people relegate that to Arcane. 😔 Unlike Arcane, the unknown is already here in Ice.

You could easily take inspiration from the movie The Thing, too. It writes itself ngl.

Theres much to do and think about with Ice when you remember this is a region with its own people and culture and not just an aesthetic, and I’d like to see it dabbled in more. Even if it’s just headcanon, you can make it into a skin. That’s what people have done with Light with the whole angelic themes, so why not take creative spins on ice too?

Give ice some headcanon love like y’all do with Arcane and Light. Those flights aren’t about eldritch horror or angels but there’s endless skins for them about it. Give ice some of that same ole love too 💕

[half-dead-writer]

Author's Note A drabble my friend wrote for me!! Posting it for them

Expect The Unexpected

Reader goes to Eddie's to get some weed (and puts eyeliner on him)

character: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) words: 1,590 reader: gender-neutral (leaning slightly into masc) warnings: NOT MY FIC!! A friend wrote it for me, lowkey no consent for a sudden tonguing but it's fine reader is into it, rushed ending?? (friend's words not mine)

𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔢𝔰 + 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ‣ 𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝔪𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

You had been invited into Eddie's house, the slightly taller rockerboy leading the way through his house to his cluttered room. There were clothes scattered everywhere, Dungeon and Dragons manuals, his guitar lovingly hung up by a mirror. You weren't really surprised by the state of the place, moreso surprised he was bringing you to his room.

You had known Eddie for as long as you could remember and over the years had grown that bit closer to him through joining his Dungeons and Dragons games and buying weed from him, but this felt different. 

"Mi casa es su casa," he announced, taking a seat on the bed and petting the spot next to him for you to sit beside him. 

You gingerly took the spot indicated, perching on the very edge of the bed. Unable to meet his deep brown red-rimmed gaze, you shifted and looked around at the clutter awkwardly. "Nice room?" You offered up, uncertain. 

Eddie laughed and you caught a whiff of the pungent smell of marijuana mixed with that trashy axe smell all boys had because they didn't spend the money to smell good. His arm was slung over your shoulders and he leaned into your face, his curly hair tickling your cheek. "Well, you aren't really here to admire my room, are ya?"

"W-well no, I was going to buy some more weed-" You manage to stutter out, flushing faintly. 

Eddie didn't usually touch you, your interactions were friendly, sure, but nothing like this. Maybe the occasional brush of a hand when exchanging money and weed. 

"Oh yeah? Not to see little old me? I'm hurt!" He moved away, clutching the spot over his heart dramatically as if it were hurting. "You wound me, Y/N, I thought we had something more!"

You blinked in surprise, perplexed by the theatrics before bursting out laughing at the pure silliness of it all. "Eddie, the man that you are. Roll me a blunt, dumbass."

You gave him a playful shove to the shoulder, still laughing and found that he was laughing along too, brown eyes crinkled and huge grin on his face. "Yeah, yeah, pushy much?"

You watched, amused, as he got up and shoved everything on a set of drawers onto the floor. He started chopping some weed up, back turned to you, shoulders shifting under his shirt as he worked. The smell of weed in the air got much, much stronger within the cluttered space.

"You should clean your room," you teased, leaning back on your hands. 

"What are you, my dad?" Eddie teased back, shooting you a playful glare before turning around with a flourish. Holding up the blunt as if it were something to be worshipped. "My magnum opus, mon ami."

He passed it to you before sitting beside you again, his jean clad thigh brushing against yours. You fished around in your pocket, fumbling for a lighter and then fumbling to light it before taking a puff. 

The minutes ticked by in companionable silence as you passed the blunt back and forth. When it was around halfway done, Eddie stood up and gathered up his guitar, resuming his spot beside you as he started playing what seemed to be random notes. You definitely didn't recognise them. He didn't reach for the blunt again, which forced you to hold it out wordlessly to his lips for him to take a puff before taking it back. It was then that the realisation of the fact that you had been indirectly kissing with Eddie this whole time you were sharing the blunt sank in. You could feel your face heating up, becoming acutely aware of the tangy taste of his saliva that was lightly on the butt your lips were around. It led to you wondering what his lips would feel like against yours and you intently watched the pink of them close around the butt as he took another hit, the softness brushing your fingers. Which only made your face get redder.

"So, um, you been playing a while?" You asked, trying to distract your mind from its wandering thoughts. 

Eddie looked up at you, grinning as though he knew exactly what you were thinking, ringed fingers moving expertly over the instrument. "Something like that."

"Oh," you were not happy that he wasn't engaging with your questions, but the way he was looking at you.. it made your stomach fill with butterflies. 

He was still looking at you, brown eyes sparkling with mischief in the dark room. He had nice, long eyelashes that brushed his cheeks when he blinked.. you found yourself wondering how much more his eyes would pop with eyeliner. Wait... why was he still looking at you?

"W-what? Is there something on my face?" You looked away, rubbing at your face. 

"You're totally hogging the weed, dude," Eddie commented lowly, a playful grin stretching across his face. 

Your eyes darted to your other hand, the blunt burning away, nearly done by now. You had forgotten it was there, so enamoured by Eddie. "Ohhh," you hesitated, before taking the final drag with a smirk. 

You watched Eddie's face fall, a glint of what looked like anger in his eyes before he put his guitar down on his other side and grabbed your jaw lightly. 

"That wasn't very nice of you," he chided quietly, leaning closer, but he was smiling. 

He didn't seem actually mad at you, just pretending. His lips were against yours then, chapped, rough and sliding against your own. You made a noise of surprise, mouth falling open and moving to scramble back, but his grip on your jaw tightened, rings digging into your flesh. Slipping his tongue into your mouth, the tangy taste of weed filling your senses as he sucked the smoke from your mouth. You were far too surprised to even react, just staring at him, wide eyed like a deer in headlights. Your brain was not computing this. Why was it even happening?

He eventually pulled back, exhaling the smoke with a grin and looking over at you. 

"What?" He asked you, voice low and playful. 

"What.. was that for?" You were breathless, touching your lips, the taste of his tongue still strong in your mouth. 

"Felt like it," he shrugged, leaning back with a sigh of contentment. 

That wasn't helping. God, he was infuriating and so, so attractive. 

It was quiet for a few moments after that, the air charged and tense, at least to you. Your heart was thumping, face red, stomach churning as you tried to process Eddie kissing you. It had to just be for the smoke right? Surely it wasn't actually a kiss? But he had used tongue and that wasn't necessary. 

"Hey, have you ever considered wearing eyeliner?" You asked, out of nowhere, just wanting to shuffle to a different topic and dissipate the awkwardness. 

"Eyeliner? Like, the makeup?" Eddie asked lazily, laying back and staring at the ceiling. "Isn't that for girls?"

"I think you'd look good in it," you insisted, fishing in a pocket and pulling out an eyeliner pencil. "Can I put some on you?"

Eddie frowned, staring at you for a long moment before shrugging. "Sure, whatever."

You shifted to lean over him on your knees, uncapping the eyeliner. He eyed it skeptically, but didn't comment on it. You hesitantly moved it close to his face. "I need to draw on your waterline, is that okay?"

"It comes off, right?" Eddie stared up at you, looking a bit confused and unsure. 

"Yeah, it'll come off," you took that as a green light and started rubbing the tip of the pencil along his waterline. 

He occasionally blinked and winced, unused to the feeling. You allowed him short breaks when he did before continuing. It took longer than it should have and you occasionally missed and got it on his cheekbone, but by the end, his eyes were popping against the black waterline. 

"Wow," you breathed, putting the cap back on the pencil and shoving it back into your seemingly endless jacket pocket. 

"Surely it doesn't make that big of a difference?" Eddie chided lightly, rolling his eyes. 

That movement alone looked infinitely more sexy while he was wearing eyeliner and you sighed dreamily, staring intently down at him. 

"I guess it does," Eddie corrected after a moment, staring up at you in return. 

There was a quiet charged moment before Eddie's hand had made it to the nape of your neck, guiding your face gently towards his. 

"You didn't kiss me back before," Eddie pointed out after a moment, when your faces were mere inches apart. 

"O-oh, I thought- the blunt-" you stammered out, surprised by his comment, face heating up yet again. He couldn't just say these things while wearing eyeliner! It wasn't fair!

"Y/N... I like you," Eddie confessed quietly. "I want to kiss you."

"Oh!" You weren't sure how to respond. You had liked Eddie for so long it was like second nature. This was insane. "I.. like you and want to kiss you too."

Eddie pulled you in for another kiss. This one was slower and you hesitantly reciprocated, all gentle tongues and lips. Again, the taste of marijuana was strong in your mouth as Eddie's tongue explored, chapped lips pressing against your own. 

When he gently pushed you away by the chin, you were both panting, a string of saliva connecting you for a moment before breaking. 

"Mine," Eddie announced quietly, your heart giving a flutter in reply. 

His indeed. 

[deliriante]

Harrowhark “I could fix her” Nonagesimus vs. Gideon “I could make her worse” Nav

[rainingincale]

.

[heyclickadee]

There’s this binary set of attitudes I occasionally come across when talking to people who rarely come across wild animals any bigger or more varied than a robin or a squirrel.

On the one end, you’ll get people who think any carnivorous animal bigger than a fox is just itching to murder every living thing that comes across its path—especially the humans. I beta-read a story written by this guy who had grown up in suburban England. He had one chapter where his protagonist had to fight lions, another where he had to fight wolves, another where he had to fight a bear. And each time the animals really were just out to kill because the writer saw “kill” as an automatic action these animals would take; they came at this guy’s protagonist in CoD-esque waves just because.

I actually came across the same thing a lot while working at a state park; people would come up to me incensed that we allowed bobcats (yes, they would complain about the bobcats) and rattlesnakes in the park. Didn’t we know those things attacked people?

Pushing the idea that the state park staff needed to make sure *checks notes* animals were not present in their natural habitat in what was basically a nature preserve…well, yes, animal attacks do happen, and they can be dangerous or even deadly, but they usually happen for a specific reason. Humans are big, kinda weird animals, and there are not that many predators left that see us as prey (though they do exist). Hiking in some (some) parts of North America you’re a lot more likely to be attacked by a large herbivore like a moose than a large predator like a mountain lion (it’s still not that likely, but even so). Something like a rattlesnake isn’t going to going to attack you because it’s wired to kill.

The other side of this I’ll come across sometimes is that all animals are harmless, misunderstood puppies who want scritches. It’s maybe more common in the internet, but it bleeds over into real life sometimes. You get people trying to pet bears and bison. And I get it—we’re just human. We try to pack bond with everything and bears and the like really are just so damn fluffy.

But that’s really just the opposite end of the same misunderstanding. Barring an outlier in personality, wild animals aren’t murder machines, but they aren’t harmless, either. They’re just animals trying to live. Many animals—from insects and arthropods to big mammals—will attack if pressed by the right circumstances.

A prairie rattlesnake, for example, is rarely be actively aggressive. They’re shy, we’re large and more or less impossible for them to eat, biting us for no reason is a waste of energy—they rattle to get predators and larger animals to back off before they have to—and they’d just as soon leave us alone. That’s not the same thing as saying a prairie rattlesnake poses no danger; they do. Get in a rattlesnake’s face or step on it by accident, and it will bite you, because you’re a threat and it’s trying to stay alive.

I don’t know. Something something about not replacing the idea that wildlife is out for murder with the idea that wildlife is fully domesticated. Something about understanding, distance, and respect.

[britneyshakespeare]

throughout the series of drake and josh it pretty consistently implies that josh nichols is a christian (josh peck is jewish) and in the finale of the series helen (played by yvette nicole brown, not jewish[?]) is portrayed as a practicing jew

[hickeygender]

ok, so in more than blood, there's luke, leia, cal, boba pops in and out, a certain someone will temporarily bunk with the crew for long enough to get returned to their family, i've written a bit for ANOTHER character who joins up but doesn't swear the resol'nare, and i just now had a BIGBRAIN idea that will make the crew feel more balanced and add some compelling conflict. that said, i genuinely do NOT know how i'm gonna fit five permanent residents plus obi-wan and cody for a total of seven, AND two temporary residents (boba and the other character). also, the bigbrain idea i had would require me to engage with a mid piece of media that i have zero interest in besides this one character in order to get a grasp of their motivations, even if i'll greatly alter the direction their life takes as an adult.

truly idk how many fuckin traumatized children i can fit on this goddamned ship and it's beginning to feel crowded and like i'll be juggling far too many characters to do them all justice. luke, leia, and cal are non-negotiable crew members, and i'm leaning towards the character i just had a breakthrough about becoming a permanent fixture. boba is like an honorary member i think at this point, bc he's quite independent, and the temporary member will only appear briefly, but the one who doesn't swear the resol'nare i'm beginning to think i should leave to their canon storyline to avoid character overload, and perhaps switch the concept of them not swearing the tenants to the new character that i'm really considering bc i think the decision to not convert could thematically fit either of them.

i am AWARE this is vague as hell bc i don't want anyone to get their hopes up about certain characters appearing and then just not doing that. the more i think it through via writing this post, the more i'm leaning towards removing that one character i originally had not swearing the tenants bc dear god it's getting comedic how many strays the tanos are acquiring at this point 💀 four feels more manageable than five, especially bc luke and leia aren't even talking during this fic even tho i do try and give them some personality. so, two young characters and the main pairing feels doable, i guess? i'm feeling less overwhelmed now that i've typed this up but still a bit clownish when considering how ambitious this stupid fic is 😭

[little-shiny-sharpies]

*through gritted teeth* don’t trust how you feel about your life after 9 pm or during your monthly hell, don’t trust how you feel about your life after 9 pm or during your-

[unproduciblesmackdown]

today days old faun/fauna same etymology (equivalent to pan roman god faunus &/or fauna)

[darkclouud9]

is 6.5k words for a oneshot too many /silly

it's not even done yet. do you think it'll hit 10k. sighhhhhh

[fierykitten2]

Sometime two years ago (I specifically remember it was so early on in the SV hype cycle we didn’t know Paldea’s name yet. So basically anytime in the first two thirds) I made a post where I assigned starters to the trio I refer to as “the Afterthoughts” (Falcon, Samus and Fox. I call them that because Nintendo doesn’t seem to like their sci-fi series much. Metroid’s an exception now but it’s had some problems with it in the past too). Now, I want to assign starters to the characters I ship them with the most - Robert, Madeline and Falco for the sake of this post I’m gonna pretend I prefer SamusxMadeline to FalconxSamus. There are some patterns again I’ve unintentionally fallen into - Falco almost always has the same starter as Falcon even in regions without a birb start, Madeline frequently has the same starter as Samus and Robert… well I guess he tends to default to Fox’s starter but I’m not really noticing when that happens as much as I am with the other two (I am slowly noticing every time I fall into that trap). Also I could have waited an extra few months so that I could make sure to assign them starters in a way so that they each get a Z-A starter like how I’m doing for both trios with the Hisui starter trio but I came up with the idea today so I’m doing it today

Kanto:

Robert gets Bulbasaur

Madeline gets Squirtle

Falco is left with Charmander

Johto:

For some reason I’m really tempted to give Robert Cyndaquil (this has nothing to do with their eyes I just think until it evolves Cyndaquil gives off some kind of Fennekin vibes and there’s no way I’m missing the opportunity to pair the guy who owns the Golden Fox with a starter that reminds me of Fennekin)

Madeline gets Chikorita

Falco is left with Totodile (I swear I’m not always saving him til last)

Hoenn:

Falco has to have Torchic

The other two are hard to pair up but I think Madeline only just works better with Mudkip than any of the other three possible pairs

Robert ends up with Treecko. This annoys me because this is who I paired Falcon up with (for reference he does end up with Blaziken it’s just I decided there would be a whole trade thing going on in Hoenn after they’ve all had the chance to fully-evolve their starters). The strange thing is, this is the only pair in Hoenn that annoys me for that reason despite all of them having the same starter as their partners pre-trade (Samus starts with Mudkip and ends up with Sceptile while Madeline gets Mudkip, Fox starts with Torchic and ends up with Swampert while Falco gets Torchic, Falcon starts with Treecko and ends up with Blaziken while Robert gets Treecko)

Sinnoh:

Falco gets Piplup

I just think Robert makes most sense with Turtwig out of all the Sinnoh starters (even Piplup)

Madeline is left with Chimchar. I hate it too but someone has to have that ugly monkey

Unova:

Robert and Snivy

This is mainly because I worked out the other two Hisui starters first but Madeline gets Oshawott

Falco is left with Tepig. I don’t understand this pairing either

Kalos:

Robert has Fennekin. There is no way he doesn’t get Fennekin

I guess Madeline and Chespin makes sense. Why not

Falco is once again left with the starter I paired up with Falcon - Froakie

Alola:

Falco and Rowlet (this one was obvious bc birb but can I please pair him up with a starter that I haven’t paired Falcon with)

Somehow I just think Madeline most makes sense with Primarina so she gets Popplio. She’s either nicknaming it Melissa or Samus even though it’s most likely male

This leaves Robert with Litten. Given out of the three of them he matches Incineroar’s build most… idk what to say about that I just wanted to point that out

Galar:

I’ll be honest this one was the hardest to pair up. Robert and Madeline both seem like they’d be sympathetic enough to choose Sobble but in the end I decided to pair Robert with Sobble

Madeline gets Grookey

Falco finally doesn’t share a starter with Falcon as he gets Scorbunny instead (genuinely this is the only region he doesn’t share with Falcon. No one shares with their partner in this region bc they all get the starter weak to their partner’s choice. Also somehow I forgot that my ships and who seems to align most starter-wise is not the same for the blue birbs and gold foxes so I accidentally ignored how both Robert and Fox have ended up with Sobble)

Paldea:

Falco once again shares a starter with Falcon - Quaxly (good choice though. Not that I ever give them a bad choice the two worst starters belong to Samus/Madeline although I don’t like Totodile that much)

Robert and Sprigatito. It makes slightly less sense but I actually prefer pairing him up with Spriggie than I do pairing him up with Fennekin (few reasons: a) I prefer the Sprigatito line, b) it matches my insistence on Falcon having a Quaxly/Quaquaval, c) I tend to ignore Skeledirge’s existence while thinking about Meowscarada and Quaquaval and this just gives me an excuse to do that)

Madeline is left with Fuecoco. Once again, I hate that I have to do this but someone has to end up with the ugly croc

And then Hisui is Robert with Cyndaquil, Madeline with Oshawott and Falco with Rowlet

Yeah sure I can count up just how many times Robert shares with Fox, Madeline shares with Samus and Falco shares with Falcon:

Robert shares five six out of eleven (I’m gonna count Hisui separately and I’m counting Hoenn twice) with Fox - Bulbasaur, Turtwig, Fennekin, Litten, Sobble and Sprigatito

Madeline shares six out of eleven with Samus - Squirtle, Mudkip (pre-trade), Chimchar, Chespin, Popplio and Fuecoco

Falco shares nine out of eleven with Falcon - Charmander, Totodile, Blaziken (post-trade), Piplup, Tepig, Froakie, Rowlet, Rowlet again and Quaxly

[coridallasmultipass]

i love how much you talk in tags. i love reading your words and how you talk and what about. might sound strange but its true. i like your mouth words dawg.

Technically, they're finger words.

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ playing dangerous ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x player!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!

˚ ༘♡ player 177. your assigned number. the three digits stitched in stark white thread on the coarse forest-green tracksuit now clinging to your body. you didn’t remember putting it on. you didn’t remember anything between falling asleep in your cramped apartment and waking up in this sterile, alabaster void. the tracksuit was loose in some places, tight in others, the fabric rough against your skin, a similar sensation for the discomfort that had settled deep into your bones.

˚ ༘♡ the air here was heavy, oppressive. tension hung over the room like a storm cloud, pressing down on everyone in its path. you sat on the thin mattress of your cot, the iron bars of the bedframe biting into your back as you leaned against them. your throat was dry, your lips chapped, and a faint crust of dried blood clung to the edge of your mouth, an unpleasant reminder of the chaos you’d barely survived. in your lap rested a cold metal bento box, unopened. the thought of eating its contents of rubbery eggs and starchy rice, made your stomach churn. it wasn’t hunger gnawing at you but dread. eating felt like acknowledging the possibility of another day here, in this place where death lingered so close you could almost taste it.

˚ ༘♡ death. it wasn’t something you’d ever had to think about seriously before. you were young, healthy enough, aside from the occasional winter flu. life’s struggles had been mundane, bills, work, nothing quite noteworthy. you’d thought financial trouble was the worst of your problems. how naive that seemed now. the sharp crack of gunfire still rang in your ears, and the memory of bodies crumpling mid-run played in an endless loop in your mind. every scream, every desperate gasp for air as life left someone’s body, was etched into your mind.

˚ ༘♡ this wasn’t life. it was survival, twisted into something grotesque. children’s games weaponized against desperate people for the amusement of others, with the promise of money as bait. one hundred million won for every life taken. your own life, reduced to a figure on a balance sheet. you’d survived the first game, the horrifying version of red light, green light, but at what cost? surely, after witnessing such carnage, the others would have voted to leave. you’d been certain of it. but the desperation was stronger. greed was stronger. most players had chosen to stay, ignoring the horrors of what lay ahead.

˚ ༘♡ “the next game,” player 456 had said, “will be cutting shapes out of dalgona candy. pick the triangle. it’s the easiest.” his voice had carried a strange conviction, and he claimed to know these games intimately, even to have won before. but how could you trust him? maybe he was lying, or maybe it didn’t matter. maybe none of you were meant to leave this place alive.

˚ ༘♡ “hey, 177!” the crude voice shattered your thoughts, dragging you back to the present.

˚ ༘♡ you glanced up to see player 230, “thanos,” as he called himself, sauntering toward you. his garish purple hair stood out like a bruise against the sterile backdrop, and his brightly colored nails flashed as he gestured. he’d painted them to match the infinity stones, leaning fully into the nickname he’d given himself. behind him, player 124 followed, all sharp angles and slicked-back hair, his grin as eager and sly as ever.

˚ ༘♡ “why didn’t you vote for one more game, huh?” thanos sneered, his voice laced with mockery. “you had no problem playing foul last round.”

˚ ༘♡ you frowned, rising slowly to your feet. “you and i both know it was an accident,” you replied steadily. “everyone was running for their lives. i didn’t block your way on purpose. we both finished in time, didn’t we? no harm done.”

˚ ༘♡ he rolled his eyes, his expression exaggerated and spontaneous. “yeah, sure, whatever. typical cold-hearted bitch behavior.”

˚ ༘♡ player 124 cackled at the insult, his laughter harsh and grating. “that’s right. cold, stuck-up bitch,” he echoed, his voice dripping with scorn.

˚ ༘♡ their taunts were designed to provoke you, but you refused to give them the satisfaction. your hands curled into fists, but you forced yourself to relax them, forced yourself to breathe. these two thrived on conflict, and the best thing you could do was walk away. you turned on your heel, ignoring their shouts, and started to move toward the far corner of the room.

˚ ༘♡ “hey! i’m talking to you!” thanos barked, stumbling after you with heavy, uncoordinated steps. he didn’t get far. player 001 stepped into his path, his expression stoic and unyielding.

˚ ༘♡ “don’t you boys have any respect?” player 001 asked, his voice quiet but firm. there was something about him, an emanation of authority that made everyone within earshot pause.

˚ ༘♡ thanos bristled, his arrogance faltering for just a moment. “mind your own damn business, old man,” he snapped, jerking forward.

˚ ༘♡ player 001 didn’t flinch. when thanos lunged at him, the older man moved with startling precision, sidestepping the punch with ease. he grabbed thanos by the wrist mid-swing and twisted sharply, forcing a guttural yelp from the younger man as his knees buckled. with a swift motion, player 001 yanked him forward and drove an elbow into his chest, the dull, cracking impact echoing in the room. thanos collapsed onto the floor, clutching his ribs and coughing violently.

˚ ༘♡ player 124 scrambled forward, his face twisted in fury. “bastard!” he yelled, charging with reckless abandon. player 001 turned just in time, catching the younger man by the collar and using his momentum against him. a sharp twist and a well-placed shove sent player 124 sprawling into the edge of a nearby cot, the metal frame rattling as he hit it with a thud.

˚ ༘♡ the fight wasn’t over. thanos struggled to his feet, his face contorted in pain and rage. “you’re gonna regret that, old man,” he spat, lunging again. this time, player 001’s response was more deliberate. he ducked under thanos’s wild swing, stepped inside his reach, and delivered a devastating blow to his lower torso. the younger man doubled over, gasping, before player 001 swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor once more.

˚ ༘♡ not finished, player 124 staggered up again, charging at player 001 with fists raised. the older man sidestepped and grabbed player 124 by the arm, wrenching it behind his back and forcing him to the ground with a hoarse cry of pain. he planted a knee firmly against player 124’s spine, holding him there as the younger man squirmed and cursed.

˚ ༘♡ thanos, blood now trickling from his nose, crawled toward his friend, wheezing apologies and swearing obscenities all at once. player 001 released player 124 with a shove, stepping back as the two younger men lay crumpled together on the floor.

˚ ༘♡ the room was silent, every player watching in stunned awe. then, slowly, the silence broke into cheers and clapping. player 001 straightened his posture, his expression as calm and inscrutable as ever. without a word, he turned and walked back to where player 456 and a few others were gathered, leaving the two troublemakers to nurse their wounds.

˚ ༘♡ you hesitated, then followed him. when you reached his side, you spoke softly. “i wanted to thank you, sir. if you hadn’t stepped in, they wouldn’t have stopped harassing me and disturbing the peace. you’ve done us all a favor.”

˚ ༘♡ player 001 turned to look at you, his dark eyes meeting yours briefly before he nodded. he said nothing, his expression unreadable. there was something deeply weary about him, a weight that seemed to press down on his shoulders. his posture was rigid, his face lined with exhaustion, and though he was relatively handsome, it was the kind of masculine appeal eroded by time and hardship.

˚ ༘♡ you wondered what had brought him here, what had led him to the point where he’d chosen, or been pushed into, to enter this place. you didn’t ask. prying into his past would be an impolite gesture and an indignity for what he had done for you.

a/n: my first squid game fanfiction! i definitely want to write more for hwang in-ho in the future so let me know if you have any requests! 🤍

[itstimeforstarwars]

Looking into plant-based lifestyles will have you googling shit like "is store-bought blueberry juice vegan" and sometimes the answer is no.

[valwrote]

PICK YOUR DOMESTIC HUSBAND 🛒

WHICH HUSBAND IS ON THE DOMESTICITY MENU TODAY?

featuring: diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, neuvillette.

synopsis: glimpses into married life with the genshin men.

warnings: implied fem!reader, occasional pet names, ooc (I have a sparse idea how diluc works, mention of "activities" (just mention I can't write smut pls), silly goofy ah loser coded men, mild swearing (damn, heck)

a/n: *stretching my back and crunching my neck.* I'm back from the dead. apologies for the choppy writing. thanks for the support on the other posts, if only I could write 50-page essays thanking everyone. <33 :')) not proofread.

DILUC 🍷

PRODUCT NAME: BREAKFAST AND KISSES IN BED. Diluc always hated the Knights of Favonius… 

He hated how most of them just stand around like buffoons and do not partake in any actual work that involves saving Mondstadt. He wouldn’t admit that he enjoys playing Batman. He hated them all except for one.

One he was willing to forgive all flaws of. "Knight of Favonius…always so inefficient,”  He scoffed at the pathetic sight of the hilichurls trying to dry roast a few knights roped to a wooden stick for their dinner. “Seriously, You’re so right Master Diluc.” Diluc’s head turned so fast at the sound of a new voice. When did you get here? Were you always there and how did he not sense you around?

That’s simply how you always were. A hard worker amidst slackers – he always termed despite Jean trying to explain that others work hard too. Perhaps that’s what caught his attention, honestly, he would never know what did. “G’morning…” He murmured against your skin, head buried in the crook of your neck, your flushed bare back pressed against him. “5 more minutes…” he heard your soft and groggy voice evoking a chuckle from the usually passive man. “Have I ever told you…how beautiful you are?” Diluc muttered against your skin. You smiled and turned around, “You always do. I remember my Dark-Knight Hero crying at the altar.” You pressed a finger against his chest, while he scoffed at the memory. “Don’t remind me about that, Kaeya doesn’t let me live that down…” He sighed, his brother consistently brought up the matter of him crying whenever he was losing an argument. Foul play if you ask anyone. “So…breakfast downstairs or in the bed?” He planted a kiss on your cheek while you hummed out a response, “Bed, you didn’t exactly go easy on me the previous night.” You recalled the events of the passionate night the day before. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end. “I am so sorry–” He panicked,” You're not in pain are you? I promise I’ll be gentle– I knew I should’ve been more considerat–” You stopped him by pressing a kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling of your soft lips touching his hands tangling themselves in your hair.

“I’m kidding silly… you should stop taking things so seriously unless you want me to start searching for grey hairs amidst those red locks of yours.” You snickered out seeing him release a breath of relief.

If the Darknight Hero really does exist, he's probably just someone in disguise. When he gets up in the morning to brush his teeth, it's the real him. He was his real him in front of you. People may call him a loser for such vulnerability…he was a loser for you.

ALHAITHAM 🌱

PRODUCT NAME: READING BOOKS OUT LOUD. One would say married to someone like Alhaitham was nothing short of a nightmare. They weren't 100% right. Shrouded beneath the aloof and meticulous personality resided someone who was in complete denial towards being loved. He loves it.

Who was he kidding? Nobody in a million years thought someone could put up with his insufferable personality — said Kaveh, his unpaying tenant. That was until he ran into you during his time as the newly appointed Scribe. You were like a painter, splashing heaps of paint in his 90s black-and-white life. Was eating ice cream always this enjoyable or was it because it was with you? Was the gossip between co-workers always this interesting or was it because it included you?

Why was his heart having an entire Queen’s rock and roll concert talking to you? Was it cardiac arrest or– He almost shuddered at the thought of it being what they called love.

“You’ve got flour on your face, sweetheart.” His teal eyes blinked amusingly into yours, a faint smile curling up his lips. You must have saved a nation in your previous life to land this man as your husband. Beige shirt perfectly sculpting around his abs – contrary to him calling himself “feeble,” hair slightly tousled and slight sleepiness in his eyes. He might not act like it but he was a little child whose needs had to be tended to like the coffee mug in his hands which you made, like usual. You wouldn’t want a cranky Alhaitham now, would you? “Hmpf, not my fault, this cooking book is completely bogus!” You rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand, wiping away any remaining flour. “This is so boring…if only someone could provide their poor wife with some entertainment.” You always resorted to theatrics to get him to do things for you, albeit begrudgingly. “No, the same tactic is not going to work again.” “Please…” “No…” He groaned, tone almost pleading not to put him through the torture again. “During better or worse!” You resorted to the ace up to your sleeve. WEDDING VOWS! “Stop quoting the wedding vows.” He sighed in defeat. The most intellectually gifted man in the nation couldn't win against his own wife. Ironical. He got up and grabbed a book out of the bookshelf; a small fraction of his much larger library.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Alhaitham lazily flipped through the pages earning a rebuke. “More emotion! You are ruining the scene.” Alhaitham sighed and cleared his throat, “I love you most ardently…” His tone was feathery soft, emotion surging in it. A smile crept up as he stared at you endearingly.

“That’s much better. Though I seriously think Mr Darcy should’ve said– Miss Elizabeth, allow me to kiseth thy lovely lips.” You mimicked the deep voice of the character with the failing British accent. “Please have mercy on Jane Austen’s ghost and let her enjoy the afterlife.” Alhaitham chuckled and continued reading as you continued baking.  It was a shame that a man of such talent only paid attention to the truth itself and not to the people around him. If only the searching eyes of the ordinary say the exception to his indifference, you.

This was your biosphere, just you, him, novels and food encapsulated inside your small home.

ZHONGLI 🪨

PRODUCT NAME: ALWAYS ON HIS MIND. What is the best but the most useless flex you have? Being married to the Geo Archon. The inability to just tell the whole world that you are married to the frigging god was painful. You yourself were surprised by your ability to control yourself. Zhongli was a man of carefully curated words. Instead of words, straight-up poetry flew out of his mouth. Everyone knew how much he adored his wife, every vendor, every acquaintance, heck even Venti. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's mysterious consultant. Handsome, elegant, and surpassingly learned. Excellent memory. A master of courtesy and rules. The amount of poor women who have tried to grab his attention. "Mr.Zhongli, how does this look?" the woman, who he remembered meeting over a history discussion 17 days ago. "Hm?" his amber eyes shifted to gaze at the hairpiece the lady was holding. "Most exquisite.." He remarked, seemingly going into deep thought. Instead of a compliment, he said something that made the woman back away, "Such beautiful craftsmanship...may I ask you to tell me where you found this? I wish to buy one for my wife–" he paused, seeing the lady vanished after pointing at the shop where she got it from. "Zhongli, you should be able to tell why people approach you..." Hutao sighed, standing beside the rather oblivious gentleman. "Let's just continue...we've got customers to find!" Hutao started walking alongside the railing, hoping to find people in need of funeral services. "Maybe we should go and ask peopl– Zhongli??" Hutao looked around for the Consultant, who was caught up chatting with a shopkeeper over some earrings. "Zhongli!" Hutao called out to him, causing his head to turn towards the director. "Oh, apologies...It seems I got too carried away. These earrings caught my eye...I'm sure [Name} would love them.." he mumbled, staring at the jewellery. "I'll take them." "Mister Zhongli? What about the payment..." The shopkeeper meekly asked, causing Zhongli to turn his head fully at Hutao; gazing expectantly. Hutao should've expected this... "Zhongli, we are out here to find customers! Not buying gifts for [Name], her birthday is months away!" "They say the best things should be done first. After all, why must I wait for one specific day to express my love for my beloved?" Zhongli asked curiously and Hutao shaked her head; love was clearly out of her expertise. Zhongli, he is particular about everything. He only attended the best operas and focused on the perfect ratio for the creation of an authentic dish.  On a typical day, all you will glean from him is a few pieces of useless trivia, because he particularly enjoys sharing these fun tidbits with you. He was particular about you and your likings. A smile on your face was what he wanted by the end of the day. For being someone alive for 6000 years, he could proudly say that he loved and cherished something– someone.

"Wait here, Director Hu...Perhaps I should get those flowers over there to accompany the hairpin and earrings..."

WRIOTHESLEY 🐺

PRODUCT NAME: BATTLE TO BUY A DOG OR NOT.

"Wriothesley, I want a dog!" You crossed your arms, staring down at the Duke who was glued to the chair in his office. “But why? That’s just unnecessary responsibility…” Wriothesley sighed, rubbing his temples. This was the 3rd time this month you’ve brought up this topic. Was he that incompetent in terms of filling his role as your significant other? Perhaps not with the never-ending paperwork. Oh, how he wished people would just stop committing crimes. “I get lonely in the Fortress…I want a child.” You put forth your point by using the term ’ child’. Child, dog same thing. You hoped to finally convince him this time.

“We have Sigewinne.” Wriothesley pointed at the head nurse prepping tea in the room with the back of his pen. “I am sorry, Your Grace but playing the role of the child is out of my job description.” The Melusine replied indifferently, pouring freshly seeped tea into the three cups. “Fine, we will go get one…I’ll schedule a meeting with the owner of the pet shelter. Happy?” He asked you, chin resting on his palm. Perhaps getting a dog was a good idea as he was guilty of being unable to spend quality time with you… “No way…” “Isn’t that..?” “The Duke of the Meropide–” “He rarely appears in public..” Wriothesley held out the door to the shelter for you, hoping you would go in and it would finally save him from the gaze of curious onlookers. The two of you walked in, only to be pounced upon by a big dog. “Kal! You sly dog! I knew I shouldn’t have let you out!” The caretaker yelled at the big ball of black fur who had tackled Wriothesley to the floor and was aggressively licking his face, tail wagging in delight. “Are you okay?” You asked your fallen husband, who just chuckled in response. “I am good just– Okay stop! I understand your gesture of love.” Wriothesley got up as the dog encircled him. “This one is so adorable…” you gasped at the cuteness radiating from the dog and its big brown eyes. “You’ve got a keen eye! This is Kal, Shiloh Shepard, one of the finest dogs out there.” The caretaker combed her fingers through the thick and groomed black coat of the canine. “He seems to have taken a liking to the Duke.” The caretaker continued as the dog ran back to Wriothesley, peppering his face with licks. “He even looks like you.” You teased as Wriothesley stared at you in disbelief. You did not just compare him to a dog…he even did a double take at the dog to confirm. “We will take this one then…” He chuckled in amusement. Never had he imagined marrying you and on top of that getting a four-legged beast. Needless to say, Wriothesley proudly walked out of the shelter, holding the big dog in his hands like a child. It felt complete ever since getting Kal; like your own little family. Wriothesley wouldn’t admit it but he loved the dog, despite it hogging all of your love and attention. He didn’t expect to be fighting over cuddling rights with a dog!? 

He watched you and Kal sleep peacefully on the couch, keeping him company while he finished up his work. He felt a sense of gratitude…people of the Fortress knew little of the crime he once committed. The only one who still remembers it like yesterday is Wriothesley himself. And no matter how much glory or repute he has earned, he still considers himself to be the same old Wriothesley he's always known.Neither a good person nor a complete villain. He's just another soul, still living on in this world. However, your eyes always reassured him in ways he couldn’t describe. Everything was perfect…

[Name]!! YOURDAMN DOG PISSED ON MY COAT!! Maybe not that perfect…whoops.

NEUVILLETTE 🌊

PRODUCT NAME: HELPING THE OTHER DRESS.

Monsieur Neuvillette, The Iudex of Fontaine, always wondered how his life had come to this. 500 years of serving his position as the Beacon of Justice, a lovely, beaming baker somehow broke the monotony. Well, calling you just a baker was now an insult. With your ring finger bejewelled, with one of the rarest gems– an ode to his undying loyalty and representation of his eternal love. “It’s astounding how a covert mission conducted by melusines could’ve landed someone such as myself a lady like her…” He muttered to himself, seeing his full form in the mirror. “Talking to yourself, again?” You leaned against the door frame, lopsidedly smiling at the peculiar antics of Fontaine’s most distinguished man. “Ah, apologies…I didn’t think you would notice me conversing with myself. Now I find myself in a rather awkward predicament.” He chuckled. Dear god, this man was so beautiful that his beauty was almost blinding with the morning sun perfectly hitting his face.

“Say ah,” You requested and he complied. Who better to take constructive criticism from other than your husband? “New filling?” He covered his mouth while chewing on the croissant. “Yup, how is it? I was experimenting with some Rainbow Roses and these Inazuman berries I bought.” You blinked curiously, waiting for some input. “Hmm it is very pleasant, it is fascinating how you manage to maintain the freshness of the fruit…” You smiled at his compliment, before noticing him struggling with the jabot around his neck. “Need help?” You offered and he nodded his head. “This is absurd..it usually isn’t this difficult.” He frustrated replied, it was amusing to see the cool and collected man all worked up about clothing. “I suggest simplifying your outfit.” You attached the jabot and secured it in with the teardrop brooch, fixing the ruffles. 

“Thank you. I do prefer my outfit as it conveys the message I wish for it to convey.” He explained before staring at you. You knew that look, he looked at you with his eyebrows slightly creased when he was hesitating from saying something. “What is it?” “Do I get a goodbye kiss before I leave?” “Pfft! I didn’t think you would take that seriously!” Conclusion: this man was wayyy to cute.

Neuvillette is a solitary person. Neuvillette is not known for his personal desires.

He was deemed as someone with unassailable impartiality. If only they knew that perhaps the Iudex was just a wee bit biased.

a/n 2.0: the crust will come off...hopefully. i wonder if it's possible to guess which one of them is my favourite??

don't steal, copy, plagiarise, or translate.

©definitelysel