#and the only reason I know as to why is because my constant stream is annoying

[sisaloofafump]

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[shikai-the-storyteller]

Clawing at the walls I hate that I don't have enough time to keep up with all the QSMP and Purgatory POVs / lore I'm interested in, I JUST WANNA KNOW WHATS HAPPENING!!!! I WANNA SEE IT ALL!!!!!!

[historyslittlebish]

Illness won't stop love (Cured!King Baldwin IV x Witch!Female!Reader)

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a/n: I have never watched kingdom of heaven before but I know of it because my sister watched it so I am gonna write for the king :)

Warning: unrealistic but okay, religious stuff, occ?

Baldwin groaned as he sat on his throne. He praised himself for getting all the diplomatic work done half the time he usually completes.

Every passing day his bones and muscles ached, his mind spinning, overwhelmed with his kingly duties. His mind was filled with thoughts and plans but he was too weak to act on them.

While determined and strong willed, he was aware of his sickly disease and how weak he is compared to anyone else. He often spent time looking up, thoughts of gods plan with him.

Why?

Why would god plague him with such illness, what had he done? What was his sin against his creator? he often found himself praying that he could, maybe, just maybe, be cured and continue to live and be the greatest king he could be, have a wife and an heir, to live his life to the fullest with no worry of death coming as soon as he always prepared himself for.

He knows he should not question God, and be grateful for his life but even then his mind does not stop thinking such thoughts.

He sat still staring into nothing, deep in thought as a few servants scuttled about, cleaning and tending to the throne room. The sounds of their whispering had started bothering him, the constant sound of pattering feet didn't allow him to think.

He slowly rose before clearing his throat. Some of the servants looked over in surprise and curiosity.

"I would like to be left alone, please." His voice is steady, firm, but gentle and warm. His servants rushed to leave the room allowing the king his privacy.

He sighed as he sat down once more. Alone in his own thoughts, he allowed himself to be consumed by his own mind, each thought, idea, word, running through his brain as he rested his eyes, deeply in his imagination.

Not too long after however does he hear a female yelp, a loud thud, and someone shuffling around the marble floor.

His eyes snapped open as he saw a small amount of mist covering a figure slightly. His eyes widened in surprise and shock as he stared at the woman in front of him. She wore odd clothes, not the kind he's seen before, her H/C was beautiful to him, mesmerizing even. Her S/C looked so soft in comparison to his heavily scarred and sore ridden skin.

He stood up and suddenly the strange and foreign woman stared at him before getting on her knees and bowing deeply, lifting her head enough to look back up at him.

"My king." She stated.

"Rise." Baldwin said as he motioned with his hand for the woman to stand. Slowly she did stand and still have a respectful demeanor.

"Who are you, and why do you come here?" She looked up, her E/C looking into his blue irises. She inhaled before kneeling and leaving her hands by her side "My king, I present myself as a witch from the North. I've heard of a prophecy that you will need to defeat Saladin but not without outside forces," She rose from her knees and reached into a small pouch, holding a vile with blue liquid, glowing and bubbling. "I've come to present to you a cure. You have my heart should I speak the lies of the devil himself.".

Baldwin was shocked and scared. A witch in his holy kingdom? Witchcraft is the devil's work. He could not decide if he should call his soldiers and risk the witch woman to hex him or to continue the conversation, only to eventually be found dead without reason, or to many, his leprosy being the cause.

He took the latter and prayed that no harm would come to him.

"Well witch, I want proof." The woman nodded and held her arm to her side, F/C mist circling the room, a wall of fog covered the walls of the room. The mist streamed into the middle of the room and created a circle, creating a pocket of white particles creating images.

They showed him being crowned king all the way to his death at an old age.

he could not believe his eyes. The images showed such small moments in his life that he could not recollect well but they were perfect for what he was told.

The mist that engulfed the room suddenly retracted and disappeared into the air.

He stared at the witch who stared back but with a slight fear in her eyes, not knowing if she would be in danger or not. Baldwin's breath hitched but he sat down. He racked his brain for thoughts but he was very overwhelmed by the information. He clutched his head and rubbed at his temples.

The two stayed in silence for a few minutes before the king made his choice.

"I shall take this potion if what you say is true." He murmured.

The witch stepped forward towards the kind on his throne and handed him the bottle gently before stepping back.

"I warn you my king, you will fall in a deep slumber, alive and well, but deep for the whole day." The king contemplated her words but slowly opened the bottle and drank the liquid completely.

After a few moments his head began to spun and he almost collapsed to the floor before a warm pair of arms caught him and held him before his eyes completely shut and he fell into a deep slumber.

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Baldwin squinted his eyes as the sun peaked through the window in the early morning. The light was dim due to the window covers but it was still bright to him. He slowly raised his body but was confused when he could feel his body weight shift onto his legs. He had lost feelings partly in his legs and arms but he could feel himself twitch and move on his entire body.

He was wearing some white sleepwear that he doesn't remember putting on and his mask was on the side of his bed. He was confused but slowly walked over to the mirror.

His eyes widened and he stumbled back but caught himself before he fell on the cold, hard floor.

He saw himself but no longer disfigured or ridden with rashes and sores. His golden locks framed his face, his eyes looking deep into his in the mirror, his skin was just glowey as the witch he had seen.

That's when it hit him.

The witch had saved him, the lovely witch that had given him a potion that she said would heal him and allow him to live his life fully.

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The whole castle was chattering with loud and bright voices. Their king was not only cured by gods miracle but he would be able to soon produce an heir should he be willing.

He sat on his throne thinking of the memory of you. You, you were to be his wife, you saved him, he could live without the fear of dying anytime soon.

Baldwin got a surge of confidence, he was determined to get you to come back but first he had to deal with royal affairs but nothing could slow him down, not anymore.

a/n: Part 2? Yes. I need to make a male version for anon OR male reader hcs for our king. Sorry if its shit though.

a/n 2: the part 2 will be linked to this post and mostly everyone who comments will be tagged (I'll try) but yeah! It's in the works

[liulith]

We as a fandom need to open our hearts to the insane comedic potential of Sir Pentious being included as a background character in stories taking place in the "old days" before Vox and Alastor's falling out. AND the comedic potential of one-sided Sir Pentious -> Vox.

Why?

Canon!Sir Pentious is attached to his era's aesthetics but he also wants to be "hip and cool" (see pilot episode; Sir Pentious as the how do you do fellow kids meme) and join the "Almighty Vees". When did he start wanting that? He's not a media demon trying to keep up with his audience and be a likeable public figure. He's a mechanic trying to conquer Hell by force thanks to his machines and obviously relishes in acting like a villain (fear me! I'm so evil! I'm the architect of destruction! etc. etc).

This is very different from the Vees' approach - maintaining a perfect public image, insidious manipulation tactics... Vox threatens Alastor in the show, but the Vees clearly haven't built their power through turf wars, which is and has always been Pentious' one and only strategy. All the machines we've seen him make are war weapons (+ the Egg Boyz who do his bidding, and help him operate those very weapons). Voxtek probably sells weaponry too but that is more Camilla's domain, so it would be more logical for Pentious to try and join her.

Pentious' and the Vees agenda and interests aren't aligned, so why is Pentious so desperate to join the Vees?

there are many reasons why Pentious could want to be part of the Vees besides the one I'm gonna talk about but you know what MY agenda is:

Vox is Pentious' idol. Pentious is an inventor, an innovator. He would have loved waking up in Hell with a mechanical body he can upgrade however he wants and finds the whole concept fascinating.

He's not against new technology, as his creations clearly go beyond what people could have had invented in his time despite their "steampunk" aesthetic (see: the effing death ray). So I think his current "limitations" are more a matter of him having to stick with what he knows best because it's hard to keep up with the constant stream of new tech. This is why he's more than impressed with Vox's extraordinary ability to adapt to change and master new technologies again and again. He's a fellow innovator! That's one reason for Pentious to be obsessed with the guy.

And if you think obsessed isn't the right word, think about this: Sir Pentious repeatedly challenges Alastor to fights even though he's clearly outmatched and it's an incredible risk to take considering what Alastor does. Pentious is OLDER than Alastor, he was there when he broadcast the most powerful Overlords' scream all over Hell. Plus, losing always leaves him in a very vulnerable position (without his best weapons). Is it madness? Hubris? An obsession for Alastor? No!

Sir Pentious to Alastor: Silence! Now Cower! For when I've slain you, the Almighty Vees will finally acknowledge me!

Sir Pentious thinks defeating Alastor is the only way the Vees will finally acknowledge him. No matter how dangerous it is, he has to try, for the Vees (Vox). Just like he took the risk of angering the Princess of Hell to get in Vox's good graces. This says a lot, for someone as paranoid as him, who doesn't trust anyone who is "too nice" to him.

If Hazbin had more episodes there should have been one about Pentious struggling with the fact he disappointed his idol and told to KHS 👀

(btw this is old news but we know that one of the Hazbin episodes that Viv originally pitched was about a science contest organized by Voxtek in which Pentious and Baxter competed against each other! Pentious could have done that after ep2!)

Anyway, back to the comedic potential of it all & Vox's arrival in Hell. Can you imagine his reaction as a newly fallen Sinner, when he's hanging out with Alastor (aka following him like a lost puppy?) and he meets Sir Pentious for the first time? Like sure, Hell is full of insane people but Alastor obviously has a Reputation and no one ever challenges him. And suddenly... Hm... Alastor?? There's an airship with a giant cannon pointed right as us?? Firing a DEATH RAY?!

It's also so funny to imagine Sir Pentious being obsessed with Alastor and considering him his archnemesis back in the day, only to slowly become obsessed with Vox instead and only caring about defeating Alastor because he thinks Vox will like it. It starts with Sir Pentious trying to "gather intel" on Alastor's new "ally", spying on them or sending his Egg Boyz to do so (and we already know great he is at spying so you can guess how that goes lol), and the rest is history.

Alastor loves attention so he probably let Pentious spy on him behind bushes from time to time if only because it's very entertaining to watch him try to be discrete and make his shadow tap on his shoulder. How hilarious would it be if Alastor noticed Sir Pentious' growing crush on Vox but not Vox's crush on him? Also, Vox misunderstanding Pentious and Alastor's relationship and thinking Pentious is a weird obsessive ex... The world is a stage and the stage is a world of entertainment!

[nonexistant00tmblr]

I love ii but it WILL be the death of me. I keep thinking about how Baseball's storyline is just so damn tragic, and nobody notices. "Always strikes out", And he 𝘩𝘢𝘴 his whole life (his whole time on the show).

Not rejoining, even when he earned it (Paper most likely had the sympathy of fans due to Paper having been there the longest, but Baseball had also been there almost just as long, and- 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. He 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 threaten to kill anyone upon his release! /sarc)

having a constant stream of ridicule from the other contestants regarding his weight lasting S1 AND the start of S2. Why do they even CARE about his weight brah. Ohhh, that's right! Meshart4 fated him to never get what he wants, like people 𝘯𝘰𝘵 seeing him for only his weight. Womp womp, I guess. Wow Mephone, projecting, much? (Also [in my opinion] weight seems VERY irrelevant for objects to care about, due to how most things that could change the appearance of a human [such as; diet, physical strength, hygiene.] Don't really change an object's appearance.) ((Also also being criticized for his armless-.. ness(?) Ouch.))

As much as being a team leader seems like it would be a 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 thing, with the team he had, it was like being a single mom of 10. Having to mediate all of the drama in his team whilst leading it in the first place put so much pressure on him, not to mention having the weight of his friend's problems weighing on him making things harder to deal with. The reason he and Nickel had that lil tussle back in s2e10, was BECAUSE Baseball had so many bad things happening to him. He just wanted that little reassurance that even with all the crap happening, he was an at least half-decent leader, and all he got was his best friend making a joke about it, and downplaying Baseball's very real feelings. He tried to save it, but just that first comment I feel definitely affected Baseball in a negative way.

//(Lil detour time, I wanna talk about how Nickel affected Baseball in GENERAL [for the better AND the worse.], Baseball clearly views Nickel as his best friend, even after everything they've gone through in season 2, but I don't think that's necessarily a good thing. I think it shows that Baseball was too scared to try and make new friends in the game, as to not accidentally make an enemy. I feel this is because Baseball was slowly realizing that most things he tried to do wouldn't go his way, so he'd cling on to Nickel as his only friend, hoping not to lose him, feeling lucky to have him at all (and Nickel would know all about luck/jjjjjjj). This lead to Baseball disregarding some of Nickel's actions towards himself and Suitcase as to preserve his relationship with Nickel. Though, I do feel that the bond they had was real. It started in season 1, where there was less drama built up over time(ex; Tophy and Knife in s2e1 planting the seed for their inevitable rivalry, vs Taco randomly being that bitch and that hoe. /silly), so Baseball most likely wasn't thinking about "preserving his friendship" with Nickel, but rather being friends with him in general. This gave them that time to have genuine interactions that build up the trust between the two. This is why Baseball played along with whatever Nickel did, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮. That friendship was real, and Nickel was taking advantage of Baseball without even realizing it. I doubt his did this consciously due to his s3 arc, and how he was programmed that way. Nta. /silly. Nickel getting eliminated was a real roadblock for Baseball because (as aforementioned) Nickel was Baseball's only real friend in the game at this point, and Baseball still had that very real connection with him. This is why I feel he was so awkward in s2e14, as he was trying to have that confidence that Nickel had, and he never did. As much as that's really good for him- like, yay! You go girl!! It's inadvertently horrible for him specifically, because he is hardwired to have all of his efforts for naught. It took Baseball all of s2e15 talking to Suitcase to realize all of Nickel's wrongs, and how ignoring them put him in the wrong too. Once he finally realized that, it seemed like Baseball was really coming into his own! Working out his own issues bit by bit.

WRONG!!🤑👅💜 s2e16. We got only one Baseball and Nickel interaction, but it was enough to change Baseball for the rest of the life he had left. Watching Nickel die/get X'd was like s2e13's elimination put to an extreme. It's clear that - even thought he was working out his issues - Baseball still had that strong attachment to Nickel. People respond to grief in many ways, but when things get too much for one person, they can simply go numb. Baseball was in a very sensitive mental state, and this really hit him where it hurts most. His best friend. He went numb, not telling anyone what he saw. Even in Baseball's last moments, he tried to take that leader-like stance, and help everyone but himself, just as Nickel told him he could.) // lil detour over (I say lil as if this wasn't long as HELL💜)

Though I did connect back to the main claim occasionally, Nickel was a very important part of Baseball's character development that matters to this conversation imo.

Getting out in s2e15 was also (possibly) a place where Baseball's programming played a part (alternatively, he got out because Suitcase had too many negative experiences with Baseball, and thought that her deep emotional views of him would impair her gameplay in the finale.) "Always strikes out", even with the people he thought were friends. Even with the person he thought was his friend. Even with Suitcase. I feel the reason Baseball had the response he did, was him coming to terms with things just not going his way, which sets him up in that sensitive mental state in s2e16. He seemed to have come to terms with Suitcase choosing Knife, and didn't want to procrastinate on the obvious, that he was just never enough. Not enough for Suitcase, not enough for his team, not enough to win the game.

He just wasn't the guy who could do it. And he knew he never would be.

He always strikes out.

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟲: 𝗴𝗲𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲 𝗿𝘂𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝘃𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲 & 𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝘆𝘀/𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: george has created a serious problem. you two have been dating for over three years, and he fed from you the first time about three months ago. the problem lies within the fact that he conditioned you to orgasm every time he used you as his glorified high-class wine bottle. on second thought, that’s a pretty good problem to have; his thirst is sated, and yours is as well. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. not beta read. vampires. dubcon (from the inherent plot). safe, sane, and consensual though. coming untouched. no penetrative sex. implied sex. blood drinking. biting. mention of multiple orgasms. unnecessary world building. the grid & mercedes knows about george being a vampire. hickeys/love bites. bruises. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 4k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: george russell x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: prey • the neighborhood

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: i guess i got too into the plot and lost myself in the exposition. i was originally going to delete the beginning ramblings of setting the scene and what not, but this would be like 500 words if i did that. for some reason, the entire grid knows george is a vampire? i couldn’t find the brainpower to explain who he’s hiding it from or how that would work in f1. the kink is more of the inherent tension from drinking somebodies blood. lol, anyways have fun reading 🫶🏽

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cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss

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george had gotten enough schooling to learn what classical conditioning is. pavlov conditioned dogs to salivate at the sound of a bell ringing; a conditioned response. george may have done the same thing to you–he made the mistake of making sure you orgasm as he bites and drinks from you. now every time he feeds from you, you cum, even if there’s no sexual build-up at all; it could be the most bland feeding session and the minute his venom enters your bloodstream, you can’t fight it—he’s pavlov-ed his girlfriend. he should’ve never allowed himself to feed from you.

when george first met you, he was enamored with you from the start. after every morning run, he would end at a local coffee shop and you would already be cozied up in a corner seat working away on your computer. you smelled delectable, george quickly picked up on that. he was thankful the barista had already memorized his usual order, because he really wouldn’t have enjoyed explaining why his canines had elongated into fangs. he couldn’t handle the way your blood was calling to him and left the coffee shop as soon as he got his drink, running into several people on the way out. you would be in the coffee shop on two out of the three days he came in, and he would be a serious hazard to any customer who came in during the five minutes he was there. it was like this for two months and twelve days (not that he was counting or anything), until you weren’t in your seat one day. george sighed in relief, shoulders relaxing and the fixed grimace in anticipation sliding off his face—what he didn’t expect to feel is disappointment at the lack of your appearance and addicting scent. he dismisses the emotions, convincing himself that he’s just used to the constant repression of his instincts around you. he even takes the time to engage in small talk with the baristas; two months ago he was well-invested into their lives, he has a lot of catching up to do. he allows himself to be forced into a seat at the counter to drink his coffee and indulge in a few pastries that are definitely breaking his diet. it’s an off day for him, his only plans are to stream in the evening with the usual quartet, so he can afford to dine in this morning…and indulge in catching up on the coffee shop gossip, he’s only a man, alright?

george is halfway through his cup of coffee and laughing along to a story about how this adorable kid tried to buy hot chocolate with monopoly money when the entrance door jingles open. he chokes on his sip of coffee, almost spraying it over the counter in surprise as you walk up to the counter. he turns to look at you ordering at the register, to confirm he’s not imagining your presence and—you look amazing. you’re wearing flared black trousers with a short-sleeved, white, collared shirt tucked into them, elegant gold jewelry accented against your brown skin—you’ve dressed up today. it’s different from the usual hoodie and headphones george sees you wearing in that corner nook of yours; at least that’s his excuse for why he ends up staring you down. after finishing your order, you head towards your usual seat and end up making direct eye contact with george, because the universe hates him. he sees your attempt at a polite smile and his cheeks burn red at being caught, and jerks his head forward breaking his stare. he hears you continue to walk past him, and the barista stares at him disbelievingly, “mate…you fumbled that.” george stutters through a denial, but then he hears your footsteps stop—and he knows you haven’t reached the corner seat yet. he picks up on the sound of you turning on your heels and heading back in his direction, and he drops his head into his hands, resigned. 

“ah! someone’s taken your seat today,” the barista in front of george calls out to you—george narrows his eyes at the man in warning, “come sit at the counter then; you can tell me what you’re all fancied-up for.” the barista glances at george with a smirk, and he swears this may be the first time he bleeds a human dry.

you laugh and sit at the counter, one seat in between you and george. and george sighs in relief for the second time today; you’re wearing perfume and it taints the smell of your blood, enough for him to not start salivating, at least. its silent for a minute, and george can feel your awkwardness radiating. 

“so…” you question teasingly, “not in a rush today, then?”

george turns to look at you, shocked that you’re even talking to him—he never figured he’d be in a conversation with you. while your voice may have been teasing, your eyes are soft, warmed with kindness, and george melts. he manages to muster a tease back in your direction, “no, not today. but, look at you—in business casual attire, i was starting to believe you only knew how to dress in sweatshirts?”

you roll your eyes at him, and a smirk replaces your painfully polite smile, “ah? today must’ve not been the only day you’ve been staring at me, if you’re so familiar with how i dress…even though we’ve never spoken to each other before.” george’s mouth drops open at you checking him, and he can hear both baristas giggling behind the counter. and at that moment, george is pretty sure he fell in love with you right then—even though he didn’t have the balls to ask you out for another month and a half. 

for those weeks, every time george came to the cafe, you would wave him over to your table with a bright grin and invite him to sit down across from you. even on days when he really couldn’t afford to be late, he’d find himself sitting down to chat with you. instead of being early to zoom meetings with the mercedes team, he started being on-time, often enough for lewis and toto to comment on it. his only response to their gentle prodding at the change in his behavior being, “i added another mile to my morning run,” when he really was spending those minutes talking to you after his run. after he built up the courage to ask for your number (platonically, of course), he would show up to the driver’s briefings a few minutes late, rushing in yet tapping away on his phone struggling to hide the smile on his face. for all of his superior senses, he doesn’t notice how his grid mates stare at him like he’s lost his mind; eventually, one of the officials calls him out when he glances down at the notifications popping up on his phone screen for the fourth time in five minutes, “mr. russell, i am sure that whatever you find so interesting on your phone can’t be more important than our discussion about track conditions, can it?”

george flushed red (he knew he shouldn’t have fed until later) and stumbled through an apology. after the briefing ends, the drivers start teasing him for being ‘so unprofessional,’ and lewis doesn’t help when he reveals how george has started being late to mercedes team meetings, too. charles pretends to faint, alex gasps in horror, and lando’s eyes light up at the opportunity to be a gremlin.

“boysboysboys,” lando grins, gathering everyone’s attention, “i think it’s finally happened.”

george sighed, over the dramatics already, “what’s happened, lando?”

“you’ve managed to get yourself a girlfriend!” lando shrieks, his high-pitched laughter hurting george’s ears.

george flusters, and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, “she’s not my girlfriend!” and, he’s only made it worse. 

alex’s eyes widen, pointing at george in shock, “oh my god—so you are talking to a girl!” george groans and spins on his feet to leave the room, ignoring the jibes and teases of the grown men behind him. 

later that night, his hotel room is infiltrated by almost half the grid (including fernando, for some reason), all seeming to rally behind their common goal of getting george to ask you on an actual date. they debase all of george’s points about why he shouldn’t ask you out—the main point being that he’s a fucking vampire—and ask him the one question that he’s been refusing to acknowledge, “you can smell how she feels—does she smell like she likes you?”

george hisses at them half-heartedly, more like a frazzled kitten than a terrifying monster, “yes, i’m already aware that she’s interested in me—that’s the problem! i’ve already led her on this whole time, and she doesn’t know that she has a crush on an undead, immortal, vampire!” the room quiets at his outburst, and he can only groan and drop his head into his hands. 

“so just tell her,” max states bluntly, not looking away from the fifa game he’s beating charles’ ass in. george stares at max, appalled.

“let her make the decision for herself, right?” max starts, pausing the game to look at george, “for some bizarre reason she likes you for who you are,” george scoffs, “so, just tell her from the jump—you’ve already led her on enough, so give her the opportunity to decide whether or not if she should date your lame ass.”

the vampire stares at max disbelievingly, “that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

the red bull driver shrugs, ears turning red under the surprised stares in the room, and quickly un-pauses the game and scores on charles. the monegasque screams dramatically, and the tense air is broken. george shakily sighs, anxious, and pulls out his phone to ask you on a date. originally, he was thinking about asking you through a text, but with almost every driver in the room disapproving of any way he goes about wording it, he bares his fangs at them, and steps out of his own room, to call you. 

the phone doesn’t even complete the first ring before you pick up, and a pleasant, “hi, georgieeee,” slips from your mouth; he can hear how you’re smiling through the phone. he banters with you for a minute, listening to how you're singing praises about his performance even though the actual race isn’t for another day. when the conversation dies down, he blurts out the question, “do you want to go on a—“

“i would love to go on a date with you!” you cut him off, eagerly, “i mean–sorry, yes. i would like to go out with you.” george laughs, relieved and comforted by the fact that you’re as gone for him as he is for you. he can’t even bring himself to be mad when he hears the men in his room raucously cheer.

and when george took you out for brunch to the same cafe, ignoring the baristas’ proud expressions, he realized he had nothing to worry about. the conversation flowed easily, he made you laugh and you made him laugh, and most importantly, he didn't think about draining you dry like a caprisun. you’ve ditched the cozy outfits and dressed up again—dressed up for him—and george is out of his running attire and fancied up; and you make a off-hand comment about how unnatural this feels, and george is reminded of the one important thing he was supposed to tell you. time has flown by so quickly while the two of you were hidden away in your preferred corner seat, and it’s become mid-afternoon. george surveys the surroundings briefly and is shocked to find that it’s only the two of you, and the baristas in the cafe; it’s the perfect time to tell you. 

when george states that he’s a vampire, you obviously think he’s joking, “well, you’re not burning in the sunlight, georgie–so i don’t believe you! i am afraid that if this is a kink of yours, i don’t see a second date in the future.” he tries to smile at your joke but it ends up as more of a grimace, and he exposes his fangs for you to see. he hears the breath catch in your throat, sees your eyes widening in shock, blown-out pupils shrinking in fear, hears your heart beginning to race in your chest, blood rushing in your veins, and smells your scent souring.

“george russell,” you whisper yell, glancing around anxiously, “what the fuck! i believe you—you shouldn’t do that in public! what if someone else saw?!” and that’s when he realized that sure, a small amount of your fear was from the confirmation that he is a supernatural being—but mainly that, you were afraid for him. and at that point, george knew that he could allow himself to be vulnerable with you.

and after three years together, he fed from you for the first time. a lot of planning went into the initial feeding: after the end of the racing season, a trip away just for the two of you, george would satiate his thirst with his usual blood donor supply, he wouldn’t drink more than six ounces from you, you’d eat a full meal and be properly hydrated, and of course, he’d drink from you when you orgasm. the bite hurts in the beginning—george has been told many stories from feeders—and the most common distraction to the pain is a simultaneous orgasm. you were apprehensive yet extremely willing to allow george to drink from you, and told him that you trusted him completely—you even sat through his numerous clinical rundowns of the plan without complaining. 

however in the moment, george diverted from the script. instead of having you cum once, george forced three orgasms out of you and bit you on the last one. he practically mauled your neck, chest, and hickeys throughout the night, as if he was teasing himself with the indents on of his teeth on your body before he bit into you. you couldn’t figure out if it was the venom from his bite or the multiple orgasms that had you floating pleasurably. george couldn’t deny that seeing you covered in love bites and his actual fang marks didn’t provoke a hidden possessive trait in him. the love bites he left on your body would fade within a few days, the bite mark would fade in around two weeks—and you told george explicitly that if he ever wanted to feed from you again, he’d be more than welcome to do so.

the vampire always thought that he was the one who was at risk for getting addicted to your blood; his greatest fear being that he wouldn’t be able to resist sucking you dry. however, it rapidly dawned on him: you’re the one who formed an addiction.

george always made sure his thirst was properly sated with his usual blood bags before he drank from you. over three months, he’d consistently make you cum whenever he bit you, whether it was with his fingers, cock, mouth, thigh, etc. but he never quite realized that he conditioned you into cumming whenever he bit you, until the singapore grand prix.

singapore was hot. it wasn’t hell on earth like qatar, but it was still fucking hot. and then, he crashed. as he made his way back to the mercedes garage (stomping under the force of his self-deprecation), he became increasingly aware of the tingle in the back of his throat; he’s hungry, he needs blood. he ignores his race engineer asking if he needs medical attention, and asks for a ‘juicebox,’ the codeword for a blood-bag. only to find out, he had his last one yesterday after qualifying—the hotter race weekends have him draining his supply quicker than usual. the vampire whimpers, and suddenly he’s bombarded by you speeding over from the back of the garage. you’re tugging his face down to eye level, worriedly asking if he’s hurt, but george can only register how alluring your blood smells. contrary to popular vampiric-belief (if that’s a thing, he has no clue), blood does not smell sweet. it smells metallic, and the overall scent is affected by water content and ph-level; you smell velvety, and absolutely perfect to george.

the vampire briefly reassures you that he’s fine, before he grabs you by the hand and turns to toto. george begs his team principal to postpone any of his post-race interviews for as long as he can so he can get a brief feeding in with you before he loses his mind any further. toto cuts george’s pleads off immediately and allows him to do whatever he needs; the brit's temper is short enough already, if your blood can calm his mouth toto will personally send you a brand new g-wagon. 

george pulls you along to his driver’s room, slowing when he hears how you’re tripping over your feet two match his speed. he shoves the door open, but kindly guides you with a palm on the small of your back into the room, before he steps in and slams the door shut, locking it with a quickness. he speedily sits on the edge of his couch, and pulls you onto his lap, staring up at you with wide, pleading eyes.

“love,” he starts, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip, “may i drink from you? i should’ve been smarter about preserving my supply, usually i’m more careful about it, but i think i was just overager with everything this weekend. i’ll only take a small sip, just enough to hold me over until we fly back home, yeah? i mean, if you’re uncomfortable, i will not drink from you. i should be able to wait—”

you cover the vampire’s mouth with a hand, and smile softly at him, “yes, georgie, you can feed from me. the whole point of drinking from me was to have me acclimate to the feeling for rare situations like this, yes? i’m okay with it, you can take as much as you need from me.”

george stares at you for a few seconds, for some reason, he’s surprised at your easy allowance, before he’s shaken out of his stupor by you waving a hand in front of his face.

“i won’t be able to make you cum—i need to get out there as soon as possible,” george rambles out.

“ok,” you state, looking at him oddly, “i’m pretty sure i’ll be able to handle it, and if not you’ll know before i do.”

the brit asks if you’re sure one last time, before he effortlessly stands up with you in his arms, spins around and places you on the couch, sitting you where he was. the vampire kneels in front of you, and parts your legs gently, before tugging at the waistband of your pants for permission. you’re still reeling from his easy manhandling (you forget about his superior strength, he never makes it obvious), and how he fell to knees for you—the duality of his actions has you embarrassingly hot. you lift your hips up allowing george to tug off your pants, and you see firsthand how he loses his train of thought. 

when george brings you along to a race, he avoids leaving marks in a visible spots, so unfortunately for him, your neck and torso are complete bruise free; the humid weather in singapore meant that you would be wearing tank tops or cropped shirts, so he can’t risk someone seeing a smidge of a bruise on your body; they wouldn’t understand. although, george could take his fill of marking you up on your thighs. the dark skin of your inner thighs is mottled with bruises from his lips and indents of his teeth, all in various stages of healing observed by the various shades of purple they’re colored in. george slowly presses a finger into one of the marks and smirks when a strangled gasp escapes you from the pressure. if the vampire wasn’t so focused on the scent of your blood, he’d probably notice how that motion alone already had you wet.

george buries his head between your thighs, close enough that you can feel the exhales of breath from his nose over your panties. you shift, squirming away from the feeling—this is about giving george blood, which he needs for sustenance, not for you to get turned on at, you try to remind yourself.  the brit halts your movements, his hands flexing around you only slightly. you try and buck your hips away to test his grip, and you don’t move a single centimeter. you glance down, making eye-contact with your boyfriend, and the teasing smile he’s hiding behind your thigh has your heart rabbiting faster, even though you roll your eyes at him. george begins to lick and nip across your thighs searching for the best spot to pierce your skin, and you are trapped in your own mind. you’re at the mercy of an immortal being, you have no chance of fighting him off if you needed to. of course, you’re very aware that george wouldn’t lay a finger on you, but your hindbrain runs off of instincts, and it’s telling you george is a predator and you’re clearly his next meal. the adrenaline thrumming underneath your skin causes you to start breathing a little heavier and you manage to wrangle the instinctual fear away to relax under him. george startles you from your thoughts when his cold hand leads yours to rest on the nape of his neck, and he pauses when he feels you jump underneath him. 

“hey, you can still say ‘no’ if you’re not ready for this yet. there’s no pressure, love,” george reassures you. the calming tone of his voice has no judgemental lilt, and his words soothe you enough to double-down with your agreement.

“thank you for doing this for me, love. as soon as we get back to the hotel, i’ll take care of you properly–i promise,” george praises you, “now, remember, this won’t take any longer than ten seconds. if you need me to stop beforehand, pinch the skin on my neck and i’ll stop, okay?”

you swallow, clearing your throat, “yes, george. can we start already? my nerves will scare me away if we wait too long.”

george nods, hands petting at your waist reassuringly, before he focuses back on your thighs. his nose tracing along your sensitive skin for a few more seconds, until he stops and nuzzles at a spot almost on the underside of your left thigh, close enough to your pussy to have the fear fade under the anticipation of pleasure. the vampire kisses at the spot three times, before he lets his fangs slide out with an audible shlick. he presses them gently against you skin for a few seconds before he bites down.

the pain isn’t from the invasion of his fangs, but from the spread of the venom. it burns as it spreads through your bloodstream; you imagine this is what boiling alive feels like. the feeling is immense but fleeting. the initial bite has always been paralyzing, but when george takes the first pull of blood, the venom must have reached your brain and taken effect, because the pain instantly switches to an immobilizing amount of pleasure. the scream that was originally building in your chest transforms into a keening moan, the burning pain no longer present.

you feel your core tightening as george continues to feast on your blood; thighs trembling in pleasure, eyes rolling back overwhelmed, and toes curling. it’s happening so quickly, quick enough that you don’t register that you’re cumming. waves of pleasure crash over you unendingly, and you’re unable to figure out why. every drag of blood george takes ruins any chance you have to think. the pleasure is so catastrophic that you don’t even register when george releases the bite. 

the vampire can only stare up at you in awe as your mouth parts, drool beginning to leak from the corner of your lips, your eyes slamming shut, and face scrunching from the force of the orgasm he ripped out of you. george soothes the bite closed with careful sweeps of his tongue, allowing you all the time you need to come back to him. he softly sucks a few more marks into the meat of your thigh before he fights himself away from cradle of your legs, brushing a kiss on your cunt over your panties.

the vampire slides his way onto the couch next to you, pulling you into his arms to allow you to shake through the aftershocks in his grasp. he presses kisses to your forehead, while he murmurs praises freely. while his mouth is running in one direction, his thoughts take a completely different turn.

he’s ruined you for any other person. he’s trained you to orgasm with a simple bite of his fangs. your body has correlated the painful spread of his venom with pleasure. george has tied you to him for the rest of your life. this is a huge fucking problem. his mind starts racing; if that’s the case he either needs to work that out of you, or he can never feed from you in situations like this again. you’ll be useless for the rest of the day, your brain has turned into jello. he needs to make sure that he manages his blood supply properly in the future, so he doesn’t have to drink from you where the media can discover how gone you are. 

george has no idea how he would go about un-training your…pleasurable…response to his bite. on second thought, george doesn’t want to change your newfound reflex. if anything, it’s like an equal exchange. the vampire satiates his thirst, and you satiate your thirst. george coos at you adoringly when he hears the near inaudible moans your breathing into his neck—yeah, he thinks you’ll agree with him when you’re aware enough to do so.

he finds himself tracing the fresh bite mark with a thumb, groaning when your hips grind against him in return. he fumbles his phone out of his pocket to tell toto he needs at least another twenty minutes.

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld@buendiabebeta@butterfly-lover@lana-d3l-rey@dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhaj@miahgonzalez16@jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock@biancathecool@barnestatic@sweetpiccolo-blog@my-ylenia @zaynzierulez@reblog-princess-blog @lovingaphroditesworld @katekipshidze @darleneslane @inloveallthetime

© httpsserene 2023

[igetnosleep]

The Night We Met

Second attempt at angst might try again with the next one. I'm glad you all liked "Finally home" I guess you people were rabid for something soft..makes me feel like I hold power here lmao. Also this is connected to "Finally Home" and "Comfort" since those kind of inspired me to write this...Strangers to Lovers cause I like that shit.

So canon typical violence (it's RE so not surprising) and happy reading!

You didn’t like Leon.

Maybe it was the situation or the fact that you couldn’t bear to separate yourself from him after you managed to escape Raccoon City but you didn’t want to stay away from him.

You’d so happen to meet the stupid blonde when you nearly bludgeoned him with a rusty pipe in the darkened halls of the police station. Too many fucking rooms too many of the undead trying to crawl through the windows, not enough sleep in your system to get through the night that seemed never ending.

All of this happening in the span of a day or two.

You’d seen your friend die in front of you by one of those..things. Now here you were with a man you’d just met who was supposed to be a cop.

“Come on, aren't you a cop?!” You hissed hearing the groans and shuffling through the halls as he held your hand like he was trying to guide you. You’d be kicking and screaming if it didn’t mean certain death. Leon only shrugged, looking to the side almost nervously under your scrutinizing gaze, “It’s my first day.” 

You blinked, staring at him, “The fuck did you just say?” you whispered a bit too quietly, too calmly for his liking. Leon didn’t need to turn around to see your face; he could feel your piercing gaze against his temple, almost debating if you should take him out with you.

“I said-”

“I know what you just said.” 

“Then why did you-” 

“Leon, I'm going to hit you if you don’t shut up.”

He promptly kept his mouth shut until you deemed it okay.

Leon didn’t have survival instincts like you’d expect him to. Always eager to help, always sticking to the rules, you’d even tried to reason with him but he wasn’t swayed, if it weren’t for the fact that you were in the middle of the apocalypse, you’d admire him, but you’d almost hit him before you jumped at the sight of the man on the other side of the jail cell turn into a bloody pulp by the..whatever it was as it walked away.

You never considered yourself kind, some of the things you did while finding a place to hide out would be considered heartless. You accepted that you’d never get into heaven, your tongue having spewed more blasphemy in your life time that you were sure that Saint Peter would smile kindly before pushing you down into the lake of fire before disinfecting his hands and going back to his post.

Leon believed in an afterlife. He liked to believe that his parents were somewhere better, somewhere kinder than the life that they were given. Something more peaceful than the death they had lived.

“You speak from experience?” You asked him, earning an expression you could only read as shame from him, you could picture the dog ears pressed against his head. The way he looked like he wanted to cry maybe it was him missing home, you didn’t blame him, you wanted to go home too. You sighed not imagining that this was how you’d spend the apocalypse squeezing the hand of a rookie cop in an attempt to tell him that it would be okay?

The halls of the police station and the foreboding dread in your gut, Leon was a good distraction from the constant stream of fear. You’d squeezed his hand and tried to imagine something better than whatever was trying to kill you at the moment.

You didn’t like Leon, you found him cute, like a puppy it was hard not to look at him and forgive him right away. His face was soft, eyes wide and hopeful. All he had to do was look at you a certain way and you wanted to pet him. You obviously wouldn’t because hello you just met the guy. He felt soft too, healthy and still had his baby fat.

He reminded you of a golden retriever, maybe even a labrador. Dogs were nice to think about. Now imagining him with dog ears made you smile a bit. A small bit of peace one he gave you while he was flattered by the attention you gave him he never admitted it though. With cheeks tinted red “That would be embarrassing.” the rookie cop thought to himself.

Leon liked you. Maybe more than he could admit at the moment. Maybe because he latched onto you faster than a baby chick would to the first thing it saw. He liked the way you latched onto him recalling the way Marvin side-eyed him reminding him to keep his head on a swivel. “Just because you found someone doesn’t mean you can have your head in the clouds, understand?” a quick “Yes, sir.” from him and he pulled you along with him.

Was that the selfish thing to do?

Drag a civilian along with him?

You were pretty, yes, he would never deny it, the way you did things the hard way because it was the only thing you could think of at the moment. But it did make him smile when he bothered you about it.

You looked cute when you pouted, cheeks tinted red in embarrassment. “Shut up. It was the only thing I could think of.” you whined as he laughed. 

Why’d he have to look like a ray of sunshine? Why’d he have to make you feel..happy?

You didn’t like Leon.

You didn’t.

You don’t.

“What did you do before this?” he asked curiously while you were stuck in one of the rooms waiting for the undead to pass by, his voice cutting you out of your thoughts. You looked up from the ground humming in thought.

“Tax fraud.” 

“Seriously?”

“No, you big goof. I was a barista, worked in a coffee shop, over…somewhere.” 

He noted the way your hand waved dismissively down the street from the police station right he noticed it from the fence. He fumbled around with his gun for a moment pretending to check the magazine while he pondered, maybe if he’d been here just a week early. 

Maybe he would have met you, how would you look when you smiled or laughed at a joke. 

He pushed the magazine back into place, shaking himself out of his thoughts. A weight settling on his shoulder had him tense, turning and looking over at you seeing you lean on his shoulder. Leon relaxed a small smile playing on his lips as he admired you. 

You leaned on him, your body relaxing just a moment as he offered his shoulder, he was thoughtful, you liked that about him. His hand came up to your back and gently rubbed circles between your shoulders. “You’re doing great.” he hummed, leaning his forehead against yours, you could only glare weakly as he was using those stupid puppy eyes on you. You poked the soft pudge hiding under the bulletproof vest. “Shut up.”

A small bit of silence left you two relaxed momentarily forgetting about the shuffling and the random thumps and bumps against the door.

Ada was someone you didn’t trust, she spoke to the point but in circles, never willing to give you a straight answer. In all honesty, if it were any other day if it didn’t feel like the world was ending, you’d be fawning over her like some sort of moron.

For fucks sake she was wearing heels during a zombie outbreak you internally felt yourself putting her on a pedestal practically forgetting about survival and choosing to trust this woman who looked like she was coming out of a fashion catalog.

Noticing your staring Ada, snapped her fingers at you and you stood in attention feeling your face burn in embarrassment. Great, now you look stupid in front of the pretty lady.

Leon didn’t hide his admiration for her, you couldn’t blame him, she had an air of confidence, independence, a person who you wanted to be with but couldn’t attain.

She was mildly amused by your poor attempts at flirting “You’d have better luck telling Leon those jokes of yours.” She hummed as you helped bandage her leg. You only looked confused “What do you mean?” “Come on, you're practically clinging to him giving him those eyes,” She gestured vaguely to your face, you’d still stared at her confused, she rolled her eyes staring at you in disbelief “You’re telling me you don’t like him?” You snort hearing it echo through the sewer “No.” she didn’t seem amused with you.

The train leading away from the city was melancholic and frankly bittersweet, you made it. Somehow you survived just when you were about to leave a note or something for someone to find on your corpse. Leon looked somewhat satisfied relaxing as he just leaned on your shoulder as the train went on towards an unknown location.

His hand gripped yours, fingers interlacing, a nap sounded perfect at the moment. His body was screaming for rest and you felt like a small piece of heaven. Your thumb swiped over his knuckles. “Go on. I’ll wake you up when we stop, okay?” He couldn’t say no to that.

The woman, Claire, stared at you from the corner of her eye. A clear need of an explanation was visibly wanting to pry you for an explanation.

“We met in the police station.” She deflated sitting down on the ground next to…Sherry? Her name was? Yeah she introduced herself to you almost enthusiastically in her tired state, fell asleep like a rock to the insistence of you and Claire. “Sorry we arrived in the city together and we got separated. I thought something happened to him.” She admitted their relationship, acquaintances, “Something almost happened, I almost hit him with a pipe.” Claire felt bad that she laughed at that.

The train stopped a few hours later and once you all reached civilization it was time to go your separate ways. Claire was looking for someone and whatever happened down in Umbrella she looked determined to investigate it. 

You understood why but after everything, you just wanted to suppress the memories and go on with your life and you agreed to take in Sherry. Claire looked like she felt bad but you waved her off, “I’ve got like five cousins her age. She’ll be fine.” you assured the redhead as she hugged you, she didn’t look like she was the maternal type anyway, she was younger from what you gathered about her talking about her brother. 

She should be able to find him without worrying about the safety of someone else.

A brief glance around your shoulder saw Leon looking exhausted, the mental fortitude he had to not break down crying was worrisome. You couldn’t blame him. You felt the same, what do you do in that situation now that you had to look after someone, you couldn’t cry or scream. No, Sherry wouldn’t react well to a breakdown. 

You offered your hand to the little girl and she hesitantly accepted as Leon led the way with a hand on your back as you managed to find a military base ahead.

Looking back, a part of him wished he had been more vigilant, maybe he could have protected you and Sherry. Instead you were both dragged off somewhere with blindfolds over your eyes. He fought against the men screaming at them to bring both of you back only to get a whack to the back of his head and he was out like a light. 

Leon woke up after the men had separated from both of you. Heart pounding his breathing erratic as a man in front of him commended him for making it out of Raccoon City alive. “Rookie with a hell of a first day.” wearing a crooked smile that made his stomach turn. 

Where were you? Were you okay? Did they hurt you?

They made him an offer. An ultimatum. They didn’t really give him much of a choice.

You had been sitting alone clutching Sherry close afraid of the men surrounding you, hands close to their weapons and their eyes wandering staring trying to get a read on you. Your leg bounced the heel of your shoe clicking against the ground, you were sweating bullets, heart beating rapidly. 

You tried to calm down. Nothing was working.

When you saw Leon again after what felt like hours you practically ran up and hugged him, his arms wrapping around you squeezing you so close you almost missed the way he was shaking. His face buried in your neck fingers curling around your shirt wrinkling the already ruined fabric. He only pulled away to kiss your shoulder whispering apologies into your skin. “I’m sorry.” 

It was like you blinked and he was gone, gone to whatever new hell they’d introduce him to. The government relocated you and Sherry, not together I’m afraid. 

You tried to live life like normal but nothing got rid of the nightmares. Dates ran away from your screaming like roaches to sudden exposure to light. New forms of comfort taken from scalding hot showers and wrapping yourself in blankets galore. You nabbed a pitbull from some dumpster. It didn’t seem to matter.

A part of you wanted Leon back. Someone who understood you, someone who'd give you a shoulder to cry on at the moment. You were ashamed to admit that you needed him so bad. It was only one night. One fucking night he didn’t sleep with you. Not like that anyway. Why did you feel so strongly for that dumb blond?

You didn’t like Leon.

You didn’t.

You didn’t.

Six years later you saw Leon again.

Standing at your door looking different from the rookie cop you met that night.

A frozen look of shock on your face as you stared at him.

Your mouth felt dry, your blood went cold.

Oh fuck.

You liked Leon.

[paper-mario-wiki]

hi, i'm not the person who asked you about the life update, but could you elaborate on how being a creator means to live in a world of ideas instead of the real world? i'm just really curious about your reasons for quitting, specially because i want to create things in the future (not necessarily streaming, but anyways), hope you have a good day!

i'll be talking mostly about streaming for the sake of this answer, but this is similarly applicable across a wide range of platforms:

the job of the streamer is, effectively, to be the life of the party every single day. your goal is to be the person that has something interesting to talk about, and is quick with a joke, and has nuanced understandings of certain things, without actually obtaining any sort of "expertise" in anything lest you alienate viewers. short of having a stated goal for a stream, the only goal of the streamer is to let people relax with a voice they enjoy, saying things they like hearing. you can become very strong in different aspects of streaming, like in the production, or as someone who focuses more on a skill they've honed like art or speedrunning, but the demographic of streamers which pulls, by far, the most significant viewership, is personality based streamers.

this becomes more complicated when, for example, you are very interactive with chat, or you stream with multiple people at once. now, to maintain this charismatic sway you have (the one that got you the job in the first place), you must be able to adapt to and bounce off of other people, as you are now no longer performing alone. naturally, there's a need to not only manage your own flow of consciousness, but also to be at least partially in sync with someone else's.

beyond these complications, you must also consider drawing in new viewership. when i was a streamer, i was quite successful, relatively speaking. pulling 300 viewers consistently is something a very slim amount of streamers can actually do, and even then i was still making under 50k a year, which is not bad, but also not good. in paying for my apartment, my insurance, my travel fare, and all the other stuff that living independently draws money out of you with, i was more often in the red than i was in the green. hence, the need to draw in new viewers, which cannot be done without something eye-catching.

think about this: there are, at any given time, TENS OF THOUSANDS of streamers live in your native language on twitch, and they are all FREE TO WATCH. the attention market is sparse because the streamer market is oversaturated. and considering all of THEM want new viewers too, everyone is constantly refining and improving their craft, which requires everyone to move creatively in tandem with each other lest they get left behind.

if you are a streamer making ass-dollars and ass-cents, it becomes easy to begin resenting people like jerma, solely because everything he touches seems to turn to gold. i personally found it easy to feel very disappointed in myself when peoples projects that seemed so simple would take off. it was a constant "why didn't i think of that!" situation, at least for me. and when you don't have the energy to keep that up, or the social stamina necessary to figure that all out while also being upbeat and happy in front of people near daily, it can become very draining.

what i mean specifically when i say the "world of ideas", is like. there would be times where i could schedule out my failures weeks in advance. i'd be so in my own head about the process, i could see the exact path i could see myself taking that would lead me directly to ruin. how playing games i actually enjoyed would steadily drop viewership, or how focusing on my studies would make people forget about me. and of course this is augmented by my anxiety, i know this is absolutely not the case for every streamer, but that overwhelming feeling of needing to find a new game to play, or a new gimmick to use, or a new ploy to get money that doesn't make you feel guilty even though your source of income is mostly queer and mostly poor young adults and your rent is coming up and you're $200 short but you also just had a fundraiser last month about a DIFFERENT emergency but you cant make it a bummer or else people wont want to tune in so you have to make it something fun like "you laugh you lose!" or "$1 art request streams!" while feeling nothing but anxiety while youre trying to sound like youre enjoying yourself even when youre asking 250 people to donate every 30 minutes or so and nobody seems to want to and chat is moving slowly and. and and.

well, it starts to eat away at you.

[heartofwritiing]

could you write wilbur soot confessing his love to a crush? 👉👈

something about how he's been pinning after this crush for so long, but the crush seems a bit avoidant or something

but that's because the crush also has a crush on him and is very very shy qpwimsmanssjslslek sorry im not good with requests

You and me need never be, lonely again.

Paring: cc!wilbur soot x fem!cc!reader

authors note: Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you don't mind the reader being a content creator and i’m sorry she’s not super shy because im not really sure how to write shy lol but i hope you like the request! I just thought it would add to the idea and I've wanted to do something similar to this for a while! This is a request back from august. I am so sorry this took me so long to get out. I've been going through some shit irl but I'm finally starting to come back to writing because I genuinely love it and posting on here since it is my safe space!

line from this prompt list

warnings: friends-lovers, reader lives in the US, brief description of anxiety, the reader sends mixed signals, swearing, kinda angsty, happy end, super unedited!

"No! That was such bullshit!"

The voice of Tommyinnit ran through the speakers of your computer causing you to let out a chuckle that you were the reason for his outburst.

You were playing Gang Beasts on stream with some of your closest friends, and you had grabbed Tommy's character and thrown him off the map by picking him up.

Laughter rang out amongst the group as the screen card popped up saying your username won. You cheered as everyone groaned but dispersed into 'ggs' then that's when everyone started to bid goodnight. You hadn't realized it had been four hours of streaming and playing games, showing the good time you were having with friends.

"Alright chat, that's gonna be it for me today! Please remember to click the follow button if you're new to stream that way you'll know when I go live! byeee!" You did your outro, quickly closed your stream down, and logged out of Twitch.

It was an uneventful stream session, thank god. You’ve noticed more and more how your chat gets when you even mention wilburs name.

“you logging off completely y/n/n?” Ranboos voices asks through your earbuds.

“No, I’ll play a few more rounds if you guys are down,” you respond.

“HELL YEAH!” Tommy boasted. “IM GONNA KICK YOUR ASS THIS TIME Y/N/N!”

“Oh, it’s on gremlin child!” you replied.

Wilbur listened to this conversation on his end, letting out a chuckle. He honestly doesn’t know why you make him laugh so easily. Anytime you threw a genius comment toward Tommy that was deemed insulting, or calling him a name Wilbur fell for you more and more. If only he had the guts to tell you.

You as well wouldn’t admit it but every time Wilbur laughed all you could feel was butterflies punching your stomach and a smile that made your cheeks hurt. You were also falling hard for him.

After about another fifteen minutes, Tommy and Ranboo had bid their goodbyes for the night and ended their calls. You were left in call with Wilbur, the silence could be cut with a knife.

Knowing him for two years was hard. Wilbur was everything to you. He was funny, smart, charming, and overall made you feel comfortable. Something you thought you’d never have with anyone. Having to only talk on call and video made things easier for you. On call you could hide your blushes and smiles from him, but not from your chat who caught every interaction between you and Wilbur when you streamed. The constant ’Wilbur x name confirmed?’ tweets and comments in your twitch chat were recently repetitive and you wondered when you became such a beacon of attention. It gave you such anxiety to have all eyes on you when you wanted to spend time with your best friend.

It was getting obnoxious to the point where you debated making a tweet to get the fans to stop shipping you both, even if you were dating it was no one’s business. Still you never dared to say anything out of fear of stans coming at you in anyway. You didn’t need to draw more unwanted attention to yourself.

“You logging off? it’s getting pretty late for you,” you spoke up.

“Yeah, we both should, by the way what times your flight tomorrow?”

Right, you were flying less than eight hours from now to finally meet your friends inperson. You all had planned this for months, booking hotels and flights, making a whole deal about it. Then you really wouldn’t be able to hide from him for a whole week.

“Around seven-thirty,” you reply.

He hums.

“I’ll let you get some rest, see you tomorrow night darling,” his voice purposely going lower on the ‘darling’ part that you almost didn’t catch it, making your knees go weak.

“N-night Will,” you stutter, end call and slump back into your desk chair trying to calm your racing heart. Meanwhile Wilbur all the way across the ocean in Brighton has a smile plastered across his lips.

About a plane ride, a train ride and car ride later, you are stood in the hotel lobby in Brighton waiting for a late Tommy and Wilbur to arrive. You were super nervous to meet them. Having only been friends for what was a short time, it felt like you knew them for years, so why was this so scary?

You debated in your mind about texting them to see if they were close by, but you didn’t want to come off as annoying and impatient. You wanted to make a good first impression, but again these were your friends. Why were you shaking with nerves?

You fiddled with your thumb’s absentmindedly until you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders, causing you to jump out of your skin. You spin around to be met with a cackling Tommy who is clucking his stomach from laughing so hard at your reaction.

“Fucking gremlin child,” you huffed under your breath, not realizing the evident blood rushing to your cheeks from being startled so easily.

“It’s nice to hear you say that in person,” a deep voice said from behind Tommy. You shifted your eyes to see a very tall Wilbur, who was wearing his round glasses pushed up his nose and curly hair fluffed to the side.

His dark sweater selves rolled up to revel his arms tucked into his side as he gazed at you with a soft smile. Finally after two years of being separated by seas, your best friend was standing right in front of you. It was surreal to say the least.

You laugh and jump forward to embrace him. The number of times you’d tease him over-call about his height made you regret your words. He towers over you as he bends down to your level to give you a long awaited hug. His arms are soft, yet firm as they wrap around your back and cage you into his embrace.

You both pull away, both grinning from ear to ear. He looks down at you with a hint of something behind his eyes, he seems to be genuinely happy to finally meet you in person. which makes you blush at the thought of him looking forward to this moment since you told him you wanted to come here. You're quickly brought out of your moment when Tommy speaks up behind you.

"So he gets a hug and I don't?!" his tone slightly offended.

"Yup, cause you're annoying," you bring a hand up to flick his forehead, causing him to let out a irritated noise. you had only just met him in person but something compelled you to do that. Maybe it was just a reason for you to break the ice and it was working because you all broke out into giggles.

“Im just kidding Tom,” you motion him into a hug.

Wilbur just stood observing the entire interaction between his two best friends. He was thrilled to finally have you here, he couldn't wait to show you all his favorite places, hang out, and get to know better in person. Finally.

The two boys had managed to drag you to the beach, and even though it was freezing Tommy insisted on going to the arcade to try and win another 'vlog gun'. After suffering through loosing a few games, Wilbur managed to win you a little stuffed cat that you promptly named Mr Whiskers.

It was endearing to watch him struggle at most of the games so he could get enough tickets. It was all worth it in his eyes to embarrass himself by losing ski-ball to you, twice, he saw the evident blush on your cheeks and the look you gave him. As if he hung the stars in the sky just for you. It made his chest hurt in a good way.

The rest of the night went smoothly for the most part. More and more, Wilbur had been getting more touchy with you. Though you didn’t mind it at all, maybe he didn’t realize how much he was putting his hand on you as you walked side by side as he led you through crowds. How he held doors open for you. It was sweet.

Maybe he was doing it just to be nice. That small voice in the back of your head telling you thats all it was. Because thats what friends do.

Eventually, the three of you met up with Ranboo and Charlie. They were just how they were online, which made meeting them a whole lot better. Walking around Brighton, making inside jokes and teasing each other. You hadn't been this happy in a while. You can remember the last time you genuinely enjoyed yourself, your friends were the product of that. You were fortunate to have found them when you did. Quarantine was hard on you, much like the rest of the world. So when you were invited to join a group game call, you couldn't pass up the opportunity. That night, something had clicked between you and Wilburt specifically. Then you started to join more calls with the gang and the rest was history.

Sometime in the night, you found yourself walking behind with Wilbur by your side chatting about nothing in particular. Until the comfortable silence filled the air between you, you took a moment to take in the nightlife of Brighton. The street lamps guide your way through the beachside and the pubs on the corner were starting to fill up. As if the city was somehow more alive at night.

"I'm really glad you came," Wilbur speaks, sincerely.

You stop your wide-eyed gaze to look at him and smile softly at him.

"I am too," You gush. "I'm honestly considering moving here,” Now he’s smiling.

Wilbur's brain starts to go a million miles a second. His heart leaped at the thought of you living closer to him. Seeing you in person everyday seemed like a dream come true. He begins to slow his step and a frown replaces your smile. Your own thoughts running rampant now, assuming you might've freaked him out by voicing that you wanted to move here so soon after meeting him in person. Maybe it made him uncomfortable. it was too soon to say something that bold. You had only just met him in person today.

"Listen, Y/N..."

You stopped and your brain got the best of you with his tone. You shouldn't have said anything like that to him. It was too soon.

“I don’t want to sound cheesy, but I need you to know how I feel.”

Oh... OH.

You knew what this was leading to. Realizing why he was acting the way he was all day.

"I like you, more than like you. You're funny, beautiful, smart, and everything I could've hoped for in a best friend. But I can't keep pretending I don't think of you when we aren't talking, or how when I look at you my chest hurts."

Wilbur liked you. Really liked you. You would jump for joy and shout to the rooftops about how much you reciprocate his feelings but something in the back of your mind told you not to. The doubt in your mind from yourself, both your fans online judging. It made you slowly start to panic. You felt as though you weren’t good enough for him.

You saw the aftermath of when his fans shipped him and Niki together. It almost ruined their friendship. You didn’t want that.

"Please say something?" he stops his rant to notice you are staring up at him with blank eyes.

"I-uh," you stutter. "can we maybe not do this now?"

His face falls and it instantly crushes you with regret. His disappointment shows as he gives you a forced smile and nods.

"Y-yeah, let's catch up with everyone, Tommy wants to do this big stream at his place." he gestures for you to move along with him, all while you feel horrible for doing this.

You wish you could take back what you said. You know you've hurt him, It's painfully obvious when he doesn't talk to you for the rest of the walk. You glance at him a few times but he keeps his eyes forward and stoic.

If only you didn’t let your anxiety get the best of you. You had to talk to him at some point, but for now you pushed it aside. The rest of the group didn’t seem to notice the sudden tension between the two of you, if they did nothing was remarked about it.

As you continued the journey to Tommys flat, you and Wilbur still walked silently side by side. With what little courage you had, you reached out your hand and held his in a moment of truce. Giving it a gentle squeeze with your fingers to seal the deal that you would talk later. You heard his soft inhale at the contact and he squeezes back. Your shoulders drop from the weight of tension being lifted off. Maybe, just maybe this ment this conversation wasn’t over.

Back at Tommy’s, the monitor in his cramped bedroom with everyone packed together like sardines; shows the twitch chat flashing by with viewers comments.

“WELCOME BACK TO THE STREAM EVERYONE!” Tommy shouted causing you to hold your ear in slight pain.

“God Tommy, could you be anymore loud?” you wince.

“Look who’s here chat!” he gestured to you with his hands, ignoring your complaints. You waved at the webcam as chat went crazy. He introduced everyone else as they all broke out into a chorus of conversation.

Wilbur was mostly quiet on your left, an occasional sarcastic comment made here and there. You could practically feel his eyes buring into the side of your head. Hopping chat wasn’t noticing how he was looking at you, your eyes shifting to your lap to fidget with your fingers.

Out of view, Wilbur reached over and took your hand picking at the skin around your nails. You had stopped your nervous tick and opted for squeezing his hand. Nobody seemed to notice the sudden shift in both your behavior.

Suddenly you felt tense, the feeling of having everyone’s eyes on you made your mind start to spiral.

Letting go of Wilburs hand, you quickly had excused yourself and walked out of Tommys room and into the kitchen.

Everyone had a mix of concerned and worried expressions as they watched you leave the room but didn’t say anything about it. Wilbur had followed you in pursuit. He found you in the kitchen hyperventilating Your panic had taken over and now your lungs were paying the price for the burning sensation from not breathing.

“it's okay,” he took your face into his hands and held you. “just follow my breaths.

he took a breath in, and you followed.

When you came to your senses, Wilbur had asked you what was wrong and you just began to cry. Everything came rushing down on you.

“Im sorry. I-Im sorry I shot you down earlier, Im sorry for h-hurting you. I-i,” you stuttered over yourself. Wilbur shakes his head at you. He probably thinks you’re such a mess.

“I don’t understand, I know you like me too, so I don’t understand why you rejected me after I poured my heart out to you. Then you go and hold my hand while we're walking.'

Wilbur was right. Playing with his feelings was selfish and cruel. He was completely in the right to question you. You were practically flirting with one another all day, and then you shut down his advances of trying to open your relationship.

“I do wanna be with you.” you sniff. “I'm just really scared.”

"Why darling? It's just me, your silly old Wil." he pokes at your sides causing you to let out a giggle. Your best friend, who looked at you with the prettiest chocolate eyes, who stayed on call with you all night when you couldn't sleep. The only person you told your deepest fears and dreams to.

You take a shaky inhale as you begin to explain. "I don't wanna ruin our friendship, we have something I've never experienced with anyone else in my life. I care about you too much to let me be a distraction in your life, and I am scared that the fans will-"

Wilbur interrupts you with a hand on your arm.

"The fans? darling who cares about that, I care way too much about you to even care about what strangers think. It's no one's business who I, or you for that matter have a relationship with." he clarified. "I love you and nothing or no one will ever change that."

Those three words made your heart leap in your throat.

"Y-you l-love me?" you stutter in disbelief.

"Yes, of course I do."

Tears roll down the apples of your cheeks as you lean forward to engulf Wilbur into another hug. His arms wrapped around your back reciprocating your embrace. your face buried in his neck as you inhale his cologne and your tears dampen his skin.

"I love you too Wil," you whisper.

He squeezes you closer to him in return and this time you don't hold yourself back...

-

taglist: @trashcanduck @ax-y10 @mysticalsoot @idontreallyexistyet @loonalvjy @toastyliltoasts41

[snapscube]

Remember when people were calling you the "long lost McElroy sister"? Do you see the similarity at all, or do you think it's just because you share a similar creative niche (gaming/streaming/comedy) with the McElroy brothers?

Lol, "when" people were doing it.

I still get it to this day, friend, despite my constant protests.

I used to understand, and it was even expected initially if not personally encouraged! There was definitely a period of time where they were my biggest comedic/creative inspirations, and the truth of the matter is that I am a mannerisms sponge. I mimic people around me, and people that inspire me, and whether or not it's more than the average person I have no clue, but I will go through seasons of daily watching a particular personality or creator I'm fond of and/or inspired by and usually come out the other end having picked up certain tendencies VERY quickly, a large portion of those being speech patterns.

There's definitely a segment of my content around 2017/2018 or so where, yeah, you can very much tell I adopted a McElroy-esque speaking pattern directly (like what felt like 70% of other Tumblr users also did lol) and it was both because of how much of their content I was into at the time AND also because at the time I found their output inspiring as someone who was used to more... Loud Gamer forms of comedy, to put it bluntly. So at first I took the comparisons in stride and saw it as a signal of my own growth as an entertainer, and my ability to be funny in a way that wasn't just Loud = Funny.

But the thing you have to know about me, and my time as even a minor public figure, is that this comparison was not the first of its that was constantly levied at me, and it unfortunately was not the last one in the slightest. Some will remember the days in which I was a reasonably renowned "Bill Cipher" impersonator in the Gravity Falls fandom, and the pattern was very similar at the time. I dealt with people CONSTANTLY telling me that, despite all of my attempts to separate myself from the voice work I did as the character, I always sounded Just Like Bill even when I was just using my casual speaking voice. If this sounds familiar to those of you who have only been around since the dubs popped off, it's likely because I also go through the same thing ever since I became known for Sonic impressions.

And then outside of voice work I've had my style of content continue to be compared to the McElroy's body of work and even beyond to the likes of Jerma and other big-name-of-the-era content creators. And I have to once again stress: I am completely self-aware that it is not entirely unfounded. I mean, the most recent one I got was just the other day when on stream someone told me I had a speech pattern similar to Northernlion. And like, I even admitted right then and there.... yeah! That makes sense! I've had NL compilations going into my ears and brain for hours upon hours on end lately. So I don't mean to only complain and say "this makes no sense" with delusions that it's completely baseless. BUT, I guess if I do have to circle around to a point, it would be that, though I can occasionally understand comparisons, I would hope y'all in turn can understand why it might not be an easy thing for someone like me to hear, especially in the way it never really seems to go away? Even if one like Bill Cipher fades out, the whole "SnapCube is just a female version of [insert larger male peer in the content space]" thing is something that cycles along regardless. And I get it, it's human nature to compare and contrast. I do it too! But as someone who is always trying to stand out in what I do and make my own value as an individual known above the cacophony of content saturation, I do implore people to think twice about the language they use when making otherwise favorable comparisons. Recommending my content by saying something like "if you like Jerma/McElroys/NL/etc., then SnapCube gives off similar vibes" makes of a WORLD of a difference compared to "This stream is just something Jerma would do" or "Penny is just a female Griffin McElroy" (both things I have heard almost verbatim, constantly). They approach the same ideas, but one gives me so much more of a chance to like... start off a first impression as My Own Person and not just a derivative Girl Alternative, if that makes sense.

Whoops I talked about this way too much :) Can you tell I think about this a lot LMAO

Anyway here's the obligatory joke response that's been spread before

[vulpixisananimal]

[A:3 C:57] (Ramos)

“Any tummy troubles?” (Gina asks Bonnie.)

“Nuh uh.” (Bonnie replies, still in bed.)

“Weird memory stuff?”

“Nothin’ weird.”

“Do you ever feel bad feelings for no reason?”

“Uhm, I don’t think so.”

(Gina looked over at Nille, who sat next to you. She shrugged.) “They feel bad for things that’s not their fault.”

“HEY!!!” (Bonnie pouted.) “Nuh uh!!”

“Yuh HUH!!”

“YUH HU-” (Bonnie was interrupted by a wheezy coughing fit. Gina gently rubbed their back and helped them through it, then handed them some water.)

“You’re alright, just remember, no yelling, okay?” (The Doctor reassures.) “You can sit down, Nille, it’s alright.”

(You didn’t even see Nille jump up to Bonnie's side; what speed. She sat back down.)

(The check in continued. Gina wanted to ask a few things, make a few checks, get a few ideas for what could be causing the nightmares. Apparently, the weird shade and damage was from something to do with the island you couldn’t remember. Either way, Bonnie should be free to go soon. You didn’t even need to be here, but Pétronille asked you.)

(You could ask that tea person about herbal teas, couldn’t you? Maybe that’ll help-)

(Nilles thoughts had been a constant string along the same line of thinking; how to help Bonnie. It was sweet, really, big sister just wants little sibling to be okay. Stars, you had to get a lid on this mind craft.)

(PTSD Nightmares? Possible. Unknown allergy? Low chance, they’re a cook, spices-?)

(Gina's mind was a steady stream of information. Connecting one thing to another like a puzzle. Some pieces slotted into place right away, others required some work, and some were put aside until the puzzle was more complete. The only thing it was interrupted by was by a special someone. Huh!)

(But Bonnie's mind. . . .)

(---------------------------------------------)

(They just sounded like empty air.)

(No matter how hard you listen, you can’t hear anything from Bonnie's head. Why? Was it because they were still a kid? That’s weird, if it is.)

“How’d you sleep last night by the way?” (Gina asks.) “You slept almost until noon!”

“Uhm. . . It was pretty good?”

“R-really?!?” (Nille asks, excited.) 

“Uh huh.” (They fiddle with the blanket on the bed.) “It was, uhm, still a nightmare, but. . .”

“Buuuut?”

“There was a uhm. . . A weird, glowy, moth in it this time.”

(?!?!?!?!??!?!?!??!??!?!!)

(Bonnie continues as you try to hide your reaction.) “It, uhm, stayed around the whole time, and if there were any really scary parts it’d land on my nose, ‘n I couldn’t look away from it ‘ntill the scary part was over.”

“Huh!” (Nille crosses her arms.) “Weird! What kind of- Gina what’s with the face?”

(Gina’s face was one of absolute shock, mouth hung open. He shook his head clear.) “U-uh, that, t-that I. . . O-oh Change that. . .”

(He glanced over at Nille, then to you, once he saw your expression mirrored his own.)

(Your mouth was open, hair on end, face sweaty and cold. You felt a lump in your throat, a pit in your stomach. T-that. . . Your gaze drifts to the dreamlight. As does Ginas.)

“. . . I-I, wouldn’t have thought, in a million years. . .” (Gina sounded dumbstruck.)

(. . . You know what you need to do next, right?)

(You, stand up. Legs made of dried tinder. You felt like you were about to collapse like a house of cards. Each step begged you to keel over and die. You walked, wordlessly, to the dreamlight.)

(You tap it once; to exchange greetings.)

(You tap it twice; to give thanks.)

(. . . . . . T-thank you. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you. I-I, I, I don’t know why, but, thank you so much, thank you, thank you. . . I’ll, I’ll make it up to you I, thank you. . .)

(The chime dies down. You wanted to throw up.)

“. . . I didn’t know you practiced Flickerism, Ramos.” (Gina comments.)

“. . . I-I, don’t.” (You shake your head.) “Not since Eri took me in.”

“Oh.” (His tone changes, softer.) “. . . I guess Flicker likes you. Are you going to be alright?”

“I, just, need to step outside.” (You quickly walk to the door, ignoring any questions or concerns, then step out.)

(You lean on the wall next to the door, then slide down to the floor.)

(Breathe, breathe, breathe, breath.)

(Breathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathe-)

(You ran away because of that. You ran away because of that. You ran away because of that why did they listen to you why did they help you why why WHY!!!)

(Likes you?!? LIKES YOU!?!?!?!? WHY!?!?!? You ran away!! You ran away and didn’t look back!!! You abandoned them!!! You abandoned them for Change! For the Universe and the Stars!!! Why!!! You’re panicking. You need to calm down. You need, to-)

(Calm down please calm down calm down calm down-)

“Hey.” (You snap to attention. Nille’s standing next to you. You look up at her.)

(. . . She kneels down, then hugs you.)

“. . . Thanks.”

(You, hesitate, then hug her back.)

(. . . . . .)

“. . . Wanna talk about it?”

“. . . A, a-another time.” (You take a shaky breath.) “I, asked for help the other day. Didn’t expect to, actually get it.”

“Gods are weird.” (She pulls back from the hug, smiling softly.) “But, thank you, really. Going out like that for Bonbon, I owe ya one.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Nille.” (You chuckle, leaning back against the wall.) “I just, need a second, but thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it.” (Nille pats your shoulder, then gets up to walk back in the room. She smiles at you before going back in.)

(. . . Stars. . .)

>>>

(Siffrin) {Mal Du Pays} <Null> |Asterion|  [Loop] [(Saffron)]

|Bonnie was safe. Stars be blessed Bonnie was safe.|

|Soon after Siffrin and the others returned from the medhouse, Siffrin switched out and you were here once again. Oh. . . You’re not sure how much you could handle it. You had been fronting so much lately, stars know why. But, between what happened with Boniface, how Ramos is developing. . . Oh. . .|

|It was. . . Only a matter of time.|

|You were in Ramos’ room. Well, the room yourself, Ramos, and Isabeau shared, now. You lay on the bed while the others were downstairs; you just wanted time to think. You even left Siffrin's dagger down there to dissuade any worries.|

|So. . . What, do you do?|

|Keep who you are hidden? Not possible. Madame Odile could sniff you out. Or Ramos could read a stray thought and out you.|

|Talk to the other headmates? Absolutely not. Each and every one of them despises you, and for good reason. TO discover you’re here, in their mind. . .|

|Talk to the party? Hmm, maybe. . . But, one at a time.|

|Lady Mirabelle? You were to freeze her home in time, she would hate you. Madame Odile? Also no, she is far too intimidating, far too. . . Knowing. Isabeau? Hmm. . . Maybe. . . He has been kind to you. . . But, well, he may not react well. Boniface? No. Pétronille? Also, no.|

|And, Ramos. . . They, well, they were-|

|There’s a quick knock on the door and it opens. You jump in place as Ramos walks in, a box in hand. They look at you and wave.|

“O-ohuh, still Asterion?”

|You nod.| “Yes, ah, s-sorry. I can leave, if you. . .”

|Ramos stops for a second, then shakes their head.| “No, it’s, it’s okay.”

|They close the door behind them. They pause, then walk over to the window, placing the box down to the side. You watch as they wordlessly examine the window.|

“. . . . Ah, is, everything, alright?” |You blink, confused.|

“O-oh, uh. . .” |They look to you, then away.| “. . I’m, trying to figure out where the sun would come through the window.”

“Oh!” |You hop off the bed and walk over.| “Let me.”

|Ramos steps back and watches as you look over the window, mouthing to yourself as you think. This window faces the west, since you’re somewhat close to the equator the sun should line up well. . . It is winter, but that still means you got a lot of daylight. At this angle. . . Considering the rest of the year. . .|

|You trace a finger from the window, across the room, to a blank part of the wall.| “Here, along that line is where you will get the most sun throughout the whole year.”

|You turn back to Ramos, their face is. . . Oh, quite the mix of surprised and grateful. You smile, softly.| “. . . Did, that help?”

“. . . Yeah, i-it, it did. A lot.” |They let out a breath, and turned to open the box they brought. After a moment of looking inside, they pull out a. . . A dreamlight?|

|They stand there holding it for a minute. You walk over, curious.| “. . . Isn’t that the. . . Ah, Flickerism, thing?”

“. . . Y-yeah.” |They take a shaky breath in, and out.| “. . . Eri got it for me on my 10th birthday. They thought it would be a nice little thing but. . .” |They shudder.| “It, just brought back memories, so we packed it away in the attic.”

“. . . Ah. . .” |You slowly reach up and put a hand on their shoulder.| “. . . Bad memories?”

“Yeah. . .” |They close their eyes.| “. . . Most of my birth family, and the town, was torn between Flickerism and Soleanism. . . Eventually, every conversation would go back to those arguments. . . My mom was a Soleanist, my dad was a Flickerist.”

“Dad wanted my metamorphosis, o-oh uh, a coming of age ceremony, to be the Flickerist one. Cut your hand open, pour some blood into a dish of sugar water, stay up all night with the moths that would gather in self reflection.”

“Mom wanted to do the Soleanist one, spend three days in a cave with no food, no light, and a knife. On the first day you cut your right hand, the second, your left, and you rest on the third.” |Ramos looked up at the ceiling, face sad.| “It was, a lot.”

“One day I asked about what changing meant, if I could do that. Dad was hesitant, but would support me if the Dreaming One decided it was alright. Mom said I couldn’t until I come of age, because at that point I was ‘no longer her son, I was the Radiant Ones son.’”

“That’s when I realized that I had to leave. They didn’t care about me, just about their Gods. And the Gods didn’t care about me.”

|Ramos lets out a shaky breath, then looks back down at the dreamlight.| “. . . But then Dreaming One, Flicker, helped Bonnie last night, so. . . I don’t know what to think.”

“. . .” |You stand next to Ramos, then lean your head on their arm.| “I. . . I know the feeling.”

|Ramos turns to you, a silent request to go on.|

“. . . The Universe asks that we follow, and it will guide. In return it grants our wishes.” |You take a shaky breath.| “We. . Used to think it did not care about us, some still think that. With how our wish was granted, with how it seemed like no matter what, we were always lost.”

“We thought it abandoned us. . . But it didn’t.” |You close your eye.| “It made mistakes. Very human mistakes. It was trying to fix things, make things better. . . Some say the Universe is a teacher, and I suppose, it is a teacher who should feel guilty if its students all fail a class.”

|Ramos considers this for a moment, then smiles. Moving their arms to pull you into a side hug.| “Heh. . . Yeah, maybe. . . Thanks, Asty”

“A-ah--” |Asty?!? You’re blushing, just a little.| “I-it’s, it’s nothing, Ramos. . . S-so, do you plan to put this dreamlight up, then?”

“Yeah.” |Ramos squeezes you, then lets you go. They grab a hammer and nails from the box and walks to the part of the wall you pointed out.| “You hang dreamlights in a bedroom, where the sun shines the most. Gimmie a hand?”

|You help them put it up, Ramos talks as you work.| “Dreamlights, or crucelights if you’re a Soleanist, act as a bridge between the dream realm or divine realm respectively. They’re basically the same thing but y’know, semantics.”

“I don’t remember what you do with crucelights, but with a dreamlight, all you’re asked to do is hang it up. It’s customary that every few days you tap the dreamlight once to essentially just, say hi to Flicker? While the dreamlight chimes, you just think about how you’ve been doing, what’s been happening in your life, that sort of thing. You’re essentially sending Flicker a mental letter like you would an old friend.”

|Ramos was hammering a nail into the wall.| “You tap it twice if something particularly good happened to you that you think the Dreaming One was responsible for; sending a mental thank you letter while it chimes. Then you tap it a third time if you desperately need help, and, well you get the idea.”

|You help hang up the dreamlight. The sun was going to shine on it soon. Ramos continues.| “The other day I. . . Well, I tapped it three times, asked Flicker for help, not really thinking they’d do anything. Let alone anything so. . . Direct.”

|You both step back, looking at the copper disc on the wall.| “. . . It, shook me up, I won’t lie.”

“. . . I. . . Understand that.” |You hold your hand out, Ramos takes it, and squeezes.|

“. . .” |They look away.| “. . . I hope, they’re not mad at me, for following Change. A-and, the Stars, to an extent.”

“Ah, ahaha. .” |You cover your mouth a little as you laugh.| “I don’t know about the Change God, but, if my instincts are right, I believe those following the Universe had many arguments with Those of the Soluna religions.”

“Oh?” |Ramos turns to you, curious.|

“Soleanists follow the sun, the singular sun above all others.” |You chuckle.| “To those who follow the Stars, it is practically an insult to disregard all other stars just because one is a bit closer!”

“Pfft-” |Ramos chuckles back.| “Well, heh, I promise I won’t go starting any arguments then. N-not that I, plan to, well. . .”

“. . . .” |You squeeze their hand.| “. . . I understand.”

“Thanks. . .”

|. . . Oh Universe. Jinn. Please, allow me this little drift from your path. You let go of Ramos’ hand, walk up to the dreamlight, pause. . . Then tap it, once.|

|. . . . .|

|. . . . . Greetings, Dreaming One.|

|I am unsure if you do hear me, or I am speaking to nothing but dust. But, I digress. My friend, my close friend, revealed to me just now their history with you. I helped them put this dreamlight up, even. So, I thought it would be appropriate to say hello, as it were. So, hello!|

|A few days ago was the first time I learned about your dreamlights, and soon after, it helped me jog memories, old arguments, discussions, etc. But I don’t really care about the discourse of religion anymore; you helped Bonnie, so no matter what, you have earned my respect.|

|As has Ramos, actually. They may believe themself to be a failure, but they are one of Siffrins family now. They are doing better, we all are. . . But, I have my own sadness to deal with; the blood on my hands, and how it wont wash off. Hopefully, if I ever chime your dreamlight again, I won’t be fearing for how they will react.|

|. . . . . The chimes died down. You turn to Ramos.| “. . . Did, I do that right?”

|Their face was, soft, an emotional soup of joy, fear, excitement, sadness, and relief. They nodded.| “Yeah, I’m sure you did.”

|You walk to them, and give them a full hug.| “You’re a very wonderful person, Ramos.”

|You feel their arms slowly close around you.| “H-haha, why is everyone complimenting me today?!?”

“Because you deserve it?” |You look up at them.| “Ran faster than any other to get Bonnie to safety, made a wish to a deity you thought abandoned you, helped calm Nilles nerves in recovery. . . Stars, Ramos, you have been. . . incredible!”

“A-asty. . .” |They pull their bandana over their mouth.| “I’m, just, trying my best to be useful.”

“You’re always useful, helpful, and kind, Ramos. . .” |You rest your head in their shirt, and sigh, relaxed.| “. . . T-that’s, why. . .”

“Hmm?” |You feel their hand in your hair.| “Is, everything okay?”

|. . . You make the decision.|

“. . . N-no, no. It is not, Ramos.” |You hold tighter to them.| “I. . . I Have something to talk about. None of the party knows, none of my headmates do, either.”

“. . . You can talk to me about it.” |You feel them gently run their fingers through your hair, you feel your shoulders relax.| “I-if you want. I can keep a secret.”

“Alright. . . Please, please keep it to yourself.” |You, very shakily, breathe in. . . . . . . . and out. . . . . . . . .| “. . . You understand what Null is, yes? Where he has ‘come from?’”

“An introject?” |Ramos says, questioningly.| “Latched onto a personality while being formed, right?”

“That is right.” |You gently let go of Ramos, and back up. You sit on the floor, legs crossed.| “He is a fictive, as the personality his psyche latched onto was from a piece of fiction.”

“Okay. . . Are, you like that?”

“P-partially. . .” |Oh. . . It, was time.| “I. . . I am an introject, but a factive. One who is based on another real person, not of fiction.”

“Alright. . ?” |Ramos sits down across from you.| “Is it, is it someone the others wouldn’t, like to, uh. . .”

|Rip the bandaid off.| “I am a factive of The King.”

|There’s an uncomfortable silence. You look at the ground, praying to the Universe this was the right move. . . You continue.|

“I. . . I have fake memories of being the King. Both things that happened, and that did not. I look like the King, I feel like the King. But, I do not want to be anything like him! I-I, I don’t want to hurt them, I want to help them. A-and, I want to atone for what he, I, did. B-but, I cannot do that if I hide, but, I-I. . .”

|You feel a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, Ramos had kneeled down to your level.|

“. . . . . Breathe for me?

“. . . O-okay. .”

|You, breathe. In and out. . .|

“. . . You're okay, Asterion.” |Ramos got closer. Another arm around you| 

“. . .am, I?”

“You are, I promise.” |Both arms around you, they were hugging you.| “You don't want to hurt them, right?”

“R-right. . .”

“Then you're alright. They forgave me, they'll understand.” |They squeeze you, close.|

“. . . A-and, headmates. . . ?”

“. . . Here, how about this?” |They lean back to look at you.| “When you're ready to talk to them, I'll hop into your head, and be there with you. Okay?”

“. . . R-ramos. .”

|You dive onto them, holding them tight in a hug.|

“Thank you. . .”

[tangosyourtek]

Since you have the best takes ever: why do you like Jimmy and Tango as characters?

Oh gosh uh, I never really thought about that within their characters rather than why they’re my favorite creators.

They’re two of my favorite creators because of their silly energy and how well they bounce off of other people. I enjoy solo content a lot, but they make group content just as amazing and not overstimulating (Jimmy has done this a few times on stream where if the people he’s playing with get really loud in voice chat he’ll back off). I just really love the silly dorkiness they both bring to the table, even as much as I joke that I hate when Jimmy talks brainrot, it’s endearing. They also have some of the best and welcoming experiences with the community. Jimmy is really active with the fandom in twitter, and he always has a segment at the start of stream where he says hello to chat and reads names out. Jimmy also dedicated a portion of stream to scrolling through the reddit and reading what people have to say, compliment their art, and look at memes. Likewise, Tango is always saying hello and goodbye to people in chat when they come and go and It really feels like they actually recognize names in the community. A lot of streamers don’t read chat like that if really at all / the real big streamers tend to only read donations or recognize donators.

I obviously really like their characters because I am so infatuated with the creators themselves, but I think the main reason their characters are also my two favorites is because of their character development throughout the series.

Jimmy is bullied by almost the entire server, some of his own teammates don’t take him seriously, and they’ll go behind his back. He has a streak of dying first, but despite it he has really improved and grown. It’s not just about his placement or how many kills he has but his interactions with others. He’s really started putting his foot down and trying not to let himself be used as a verbal and physical punching bag. He’s always been a survivor and someone who does better on the defensive rather than offensive, and I’m glad we got to see him go crazy with some kills this season.

Tango is someone who sticks with what he knows. He’s never known stability, but the one thing that is constant is who he teams up with- even if it’s not in his best interest. He was playing both all sides in 3rd life, betrayed by his team in last life, and then in double life he had found someone who’s kind of like him that he could trust and actually hold on to. Then in limited life he was ready to sacrifice himself to make sure his time went to his team. He decided that, and I really think “For TIES!” was just the beginning of him putting his foot down. I think he learned to let go, not forgive or forget. He actually felt disappointed this season when he saw Bdubs was chasing him down trying to kill him. He knew from the very start that their team wasn’t a “real team”, and that it would only lead to a betrayal or “kill me if Bdubs needs it later.” He didn’t really accept what their team was, but he came to terms with what it entailed and it wasn’t even Bdubs who was going after him but Grian’s mimicking ability. I’m never getting over that moment…

There’s probably more moments and other things I could mention about their character developments, but I haven’t rewatched any of the series recently except for Double Life, so it’s been a while, and I have goldfish brain…

[dottores]

I literally cannot believe I have to come back and say this, but I’m genuinely sick and tired of this. First off, someone is going around telling people that I blocked them because they don’t block minors and more wildly, that I search through people’s likes to find minors because I’m jealous of interaction ??? 1) that is literally not what I said so I don’t know why you’re twisting my words and 2) I blocked them because they made a joke about a genshin character that rubbed me wrong because it bordered on a sexual assault joke and it made me uncomfortable, joke or not. Lol. This was literally over a year ago and they’re still going around saying it for some crazy reason.

Secondly, I moved blogs because of the insanity of this one—the drama that people keep dragging me into & the pressure that’s coming from my fics. I know a lot of y’all are cool with waiting but there’s just too many people that get nasty when I don’t update and I’ve lost the motivation for it because of it—sorry about that, maybe one day I’ll come back to it but it won’t be for a while. I turned off asks, they went to my comments. I turned off comments, they went to my Ao3 to harass me there, it’s just nonstop. Not to mention the constant stream of hate and discomfort caused by being dragged into a drama I had NO involvement with + on top of what the blog above is going around spreading for no good reasoning ??

This’ll be my last post here, I just can’t handle people’s childish issues and constant need for drama, not ever but especially not during law school. I wasn’t going to come back at all but now it’s starting to bleed into my new blog which was supposed to be a safe space for me to relax during my second semester + I figured I’d give y’all a proper explanation & goodbye.

To the person that I trusted with my new blog only for you to go around spreading it to people, just know you’re literally the worst type of person lol.

To everyone else that supported me on this blog & through my first sem of law school, perhaps we shall meet again one day 🫡

[icedroppedinparasolcider]

Thoughts on ena? Feel free to yap as much as you did in three shizuku one!

so, fun fact about me! i was an ena oshi from like. On This Blank Canvas, I Paint ensekai release to about Say Goodbye to Masked Me jpsekai release, when kanade took the crown (it's since ended up in airi's hands, if not obvious). so i have an absolute ton of stuff i could say about ena and figuring out where to even begin is always the hardest part of all of this. i won't even give myself a direction here i'm just gonna stream of consciousness this.

shinonome ena was probably the first character i got genuinely attached to among the cast, and while most of my thoughts and attention have strayed to other characters, she still remains someone i get incredibly insane about (frankly the entire cast does this to me, but ena is one of the highlight characters of this). and a lot of it comes from my reading of On This Blank Canvas, I Paint when it released on ensekai, because that event not only changed ena for me, but how i view the entire game and its story. that event changed my brain chemistry and nothing deserves the claim more than it.

prior to that event, i looked at ena like i do most "mean" characters, with a sort of dismissive attitude due to generally not being a fan of the archetype and the way many pieces of media write them (other fandoms i was part of before prsk largely ruined it for me). but that event, and ena herself completely changed my entire perspective on the character archetype as a whole, and while i still wouldn't say it's my favourite, i am far from dismissive of the character type and many of my favourites from other medias exist within it because i'm actually paying attention to why they're like this. On This Blank Canvas, I Paint was my first exposure to the why, and i've never been able to look away since.

while there's arguments to be made of this factor for every person in it, i personally stand at the opinion that ena is the representation of everything the solid heart class stands for. akito is really close, and he's in contention, but i'll get more into akito later on because there's so much i need to say about their relationship, their parallels, the roles they have in each other's lives and the reflection of these roles onto the people around them. but with solid heart in general, i think that ena exists as an epitome of everything they are, and the fact everyone except ena in-world is able to recognise that only further pushes my point. because unlike akito, ena believes herself a coward on top of being inadequate. she doesn't recognise the strength it requires to keep pushing forward through all this pain, she thinks herself weak for even experiencing it at all. while akito believes himself (at least up to BURN MY SOUL) inferior to his peers, there's not really a moment where he looks at himself as weak for struggling. he simply pushes forward, and Find a Way Out and BURN MY SOUL is the recognition that that is what gives him his power. ena doesn't even consider that possibility until Knowing the Unseen, when she learns about what her father went through.

solid heart is defined by its determination and unflinching will to improve and chase their dreams no matter who or what gets in their way. shiho continuing to practice and search for a band after convincing herself she's better off solo; airi's constant drive to be a better idol and reach the heights she set for herself; akito's refusal to back down from the unbreakable wall of rad weekend despite the entire town telling him he can't do it; nene's constant push through her story to be an actress worthy of the dreams she has. ena is just part of this, chasing the dream that is her art and the desire to garner a following from it, make a career out of it like her father has. she doesn't attach her name to the works of 25ji because she doesn't want its popularity to be the reason her artwork succeeds, she wants the effort and beauty she captures on the canvas to speak for itself. everyone in solid heart carries that wish, for their work to speak for itself, to not take shortcuts on the path to their dreams. most of them aren't offered many opportunities for it to happen, it's really just shiho and ena who have that chance; shiho with the entire event of Resonate with You and ena's combination of being the daughter of a famous artist and the illustrator for a growing musical group. but both of them turn down those short-cuts in the end, because it wouldn't be their dream as they wish it. shiho wouldn't be standing by the sides of those they made that promise with, and ena wouldn't feel like the success is actually hers at all, but rather the success of whatever name she's leaning on.

you can actually see this part of ena in a scene unrelated to her artwork, in Someday, This Wish will Transcend the Morning Sky. when mafuyu gets a call from her mother and ena decides to take over the conversation, there's a moment in it where ena thinks how she'd rather not bring him into the equation right before mentioning her father's name. she doesn't want to be associated with him, for any reason; both because of her problems with shin'ei as a person and her reservations with using the benefits she has through nepotism. she's fully aware she has that advantage, and does whatever she can to separate herself from her father to avoid having it. because it wouldn't feel like it's actually her success. it would feel like her father's success rubbing off on her.

yet, to bring this back to solid heart, despite the struggle she's facing to make a name for herself as an artist and the immense pain she faces trying to improve herself as an artist and a person, she doesn't quit. she nearly has, plenty of times; it's mentioned several times in early stories how often akito would have to step in to stop ena from throwing away and/or breaking all her art supplies and tools during her fits of anger, because he understands how important this venture is to her. he's solid heart too, his equivalent is the music he makes and performs in vivid street. he knows, firsthand, how precious the passion she has for art is, because he's been given that same drive and purpose for a different artform. ena didn't let him give up when he quit soccer, so he won't let her give up. however he can manage to do that.

there's a specifc moment in the stories of solid heart where you can see the moment they decided that giving up and backing away simply isn't an option anymore. shiho is a slight exception to this rule; there was never a moment in their story where they felt they should give up on their dream to become a professional bassist in a band, not once did they ever stop chasing that dream, for even a moment. shiho's shifts were always about how they chase that dream, with Resonate with You being the decision to not leave leo/need's side, and Don't lose faith! being the change of heart to stop holding back for the sake of the band, to let them catch up by knowing what to chase. but for airi, this happened in the more more jump main story; the recognition of minori's potential as an idol because of her refusal to simply give up, mixed with the mistake of her lashing out at shizuku when she shares the news that she'll be quitting her idol work, kicks airi back to a point of realisation of just how important to her being an idol is, and that she can't afford to just leave it behind. for akito, this happens during rad weekend; after having abandoned sports due to believing he's not dedicated enough, and ena introducing him to the world of music at the summer festival, his entire body and purpose is lit up by the emotional weight of rad weekend, giving him something to strive for and a reason to endure the constant loss that will come with chasing that dream. for nene, pieces of this occur in the wxs main story, but she's truly pushed into the unrelenting determination of solid heart with On a Holy Night, with This Singing Voice and the recognition of her potential from sakurako managing to grab at her competitive spirit and give her something to fight for; something brought to an extreme with The Canary Sings in a Quagmire as nene pushes herself harder than ever before to break down a barrier in her skill.

for ena, this moment was On This Blank Canvas, I Paint. while she never completely gave up on art before this moment, and Insatiable Pale Colour shows how much she wants to fight for her art and gives us a taste of her willingness to keep going, it pales in comparison to the scene captured in the On This Blank Canvas, I Paint untrained ena card. that moment is the decision that completely pivots the direction of ena's entire story into what she's become in modern project sekai. the decision to not look away—to stop looking away. ena is facing her art in a way she was never willing to before, a way she depicted herself in the art piece being critiqued avoiding. the ena of the past would've run away after hearing the harsh words yukihira had to say. we see, in the event, what happened the last time yukihira was harsh about ena's work: she completely broke down and it was the final straw to the shattering of her fragile self-esteem. but during the return to her art classes, which itself is a monumental step due to the pain attached to them, ena made the decision to stop running away. to take whatever yukihira had to say about her art and make it matter, make it have an impact on her growth as an artist. so she sits there, all the memories of the suffering she's gone through fresh on her mind and burning into her, and takes in the criticism. she doesn't fight back like she always had with 25ji, she doesn't look away like she did the last time. these are her failures, and she needs to take responsibility for them. because that's the only way to fix them.

On This Blank Canvas, I Paint also gives us a lot of insight into ena's relationship with shin'ei. not necessarily as much as Insatiable Pale Colour does, since that's a proper introduction to and exploration of their dynamic as both father and daughter and from artist to artist, but On This Blank Canvas, I Paint gives us the invaluable context around the moment that broke their relationship. how much ena had been going through already, how excited she was to continue chasing art, the way shin'ei completely shot her down from the high of being praised by yukihira—something we learn in that event is exceptionally rare—and the actions the next day of yukihira unintentionally confirming for ena everything shin'ei said. that, as she was then, she would never survive or succeed as an artist.

something i don't see really any recognition or mention of is just how much of a part yukihira had to play in ena's collapsed mental health. he was the one to convince her that she could make it by giving her praise, something that ena has always been attached and attracted to because of the lifelong emotional neglect of shin'ei. her receiving that praise from someone she looked up to as a professional and understood that the praise itself is a rarity from him resulted in a complete overblowing of ena's ego, the instant belief that she has what it takes and would be able to make it into and survive art schools with ease. that bubble is popped by shin'ei's words, the outright disapproval of her dream and doubt in her ability to chase that dream (at least, that's how ena takes it; we learn later on that isn't what shin'ei intended to happen). then, the following day, during a very fragile moment where she's reliant on the approval of a professional, yukihira continues to tear ena down with the statement that she'd never make it as an artist if all she looks for is praise. an echoed, if more specific, sentiment to shin'ei's own words. it breaks her. ena would probably be in a much better mental state, though still fragile, were it just shin'ei that knocked her down. but yukihira kicked her while she was down. and that proved to be too much.

i understand why yukihira gets less attention from the fandom, since ena's own story has a stronger focus on what shin'ei did to her than what yukihira did, and what shin'ei did is ultimately the one ena's mind has attached to as evident by the constant flashes to his words in her earlier stories and the entire nightmare sequence of And Now, This Ribbon is Tied, which i can hardly blame her for finding shin'ei's actions more damaging. despite the evidently bad parenting shin'ei has done for either shinonome, even before The SceneTM (akito had it is in his mind that success is impossible without talent even before finding music, and there's a lot of little details across side-stories that imply shin'ei has never been the most attentive father: my favourite of which being ena pushing him into a lake during a camping trip because he wasn't paying enough attention to her. the shinonomes appear to be really bad at communicating and even processing their own feelings, even before the moment ena and shin'ei's relationship fully collapsed, and i think a lot of it comes down to shin'ei being a neglectful and borderline absent father for both of them), ena clearly trusted and believed in shin'ei opinions as both her father and a professional artist by the way she used to study his work to improve her own, the way she went to him for advice on what art school to pick. shin'ei's action was ultimately a betrayal of all of that trust, and i personally believe their relationship is impossible to mend after that, at least to a degree that the shinonome household will be a safe space for either child again (unfortunately, i'm speaking from experience).

i had more to say and if it comes back to me i might reblog with even more yapping but i've completely lost my train of thought due to being distracted and cannot bring it back for the life of me. so i'm just posting this now. have fun ena fans

[lovelyhan]

— underlying pretense (a teaser) ⟢

pairing: wonwoo x reader

summary: being two of the most popular streamers across the board, your subscribers often speculate if your constant bickering with wonwoo has some underlying pretense. little did they know, the two of you have everything on display on a single, unsuspecting twitter account. 

word count: 1k words

tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers but it's the thought that counts, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, smut

warnings: wonwoo n reader run a shared p0rn account bc they're fllthy like that, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: no hardcore smut tags needed just yet, but do Not interact with this post if you're a minor, still.

Wonwoo doesn’t make it a habit to watch your streams for two reasons. 

The first is because you’re one of his tightest competitors in the streamer market. Giving you even a single view means that he’s contributing to your rise in popularity, which is very much detrimental to both Wonwoo’s pride and his career. 

Not that someone who only plays boring open-world games can easily dethrone one of the most renowned competitive players on the platform, but he learned the hard way to never underestimate the charms of a cute girl who knows her way around both technology and the wallets of her subscribers.  

The second reason is…somewhat related to the first.

They’re all hanging out in Seungcheol’s apartment when Vernon opens up a Twitch stream to watch. Wonwoo is in the middle of a petty but intense Fruit Ninja competition with Mingyu on their phones, so he doesn’t get to see which streamer he’s watching. Vernon is the type that likes to give newbies a chance, though, so at that moment, Wonwoo couldn’t really care less.

But when he hears a familiar, high-pitched voice dish out her opening tagline for every stream, even Mingyu notices the way Wonwoo's face scrunches up with distaste.

“Can’t believe you pulled a Koyahngi and Chill while Wonwoo’s in the same room,” Seungcheol laughs when he returns with some beer. “We all know he’s allergic to the sound of her voice.” 

“Hey, I think it’s cute,” Vernon says. “Her outfit is, too. Look.”

Wonwoo, still stewing in his annoyance, doesn't move an inch, while Mingyu scoots closer—glancing over Vernon’s shoulder before letting out a wolf whistle.

“I really don’t see the benefit to playing Stardew Valley in maid-cat girl fusion cosplay, but at least she’s still in theme—oh, shit.”

Seungcheol looks at him once he settles himself on the sofa as well. “What’s wrong?”

“My phone died while I was in the middle of a game,” Mingyu whines. “Wonwoo-hyung, lemme borrow yours. We still haven’t decided who’s buying takeout tonight.”

While Wonwoo would’ve normally responded by scoffing at Mingyu to just borrow a charger from Seungcheol, he completely ignores him—stern eyes glued to his phone as he types away at rapid speed. The moment he hits send, Wonwoo hears a soft chime ring over Koyahngi’s lo-fi background music. 

You pause for a moment from whatever introductory segment you have planned and tell your viewers you’re just going to answer a text. Wonwoo’s friends are none the wiser when he receives a reply the moment you put your phone back down and interact with the chat.

🐈‍⬛: What did I say about wearing that outfit?

🐈: hmm, can’t remember :P

Fucking brat.

“Hyung?” Mingyu calls out after emerging from Seungcheol’s room—presumably to hunt for a charger—when he spots Wonwoo already halfway to the door. “Where are you going?” 

“Friend’s having set-up problems. He texted me asking if I could come over and take a look,” he reasons calmly as he slips his shoes back on. “I’ll head back here once I’m done.” 

Seungcheol pouts at him. “You better! Mingyu over here told us you’ve been busy with some girl, that’s why you couldn't hang out with the boys anymore.”

Vernon glances behind him to shoot Wonwoo an incredulous stare. “Wonwoo-hyung? With a girl? You’re not just making stuff up, right?” 

Mingyu immediately springs into action, blabbering something about how Wonwoo isn’t the heartless prude people thought he was, but Wonwoo really doesn’t give two shits about how his friends perceived his sex life. In fact, he was more interested in what’s playing on the screen of Vernon’s iPad—the view now unobstructed because the youngest has deigned to move away.

Again, the second reason why Wonwoo doesn’t watch your streams is related to the first. 

You’re literally his tightest competitor, but when he sees you all dolled up in your stupid fucking catgirl outfits, he’s suddenly no different from the degenerates vying for your attention in the chat.

And there is nothing else that Wonwoo hates more than being thrown off his game like that.

Funnily enough, he’s reminded of the very thing that started this constant back-and-forth he’s been toeing around with you for a better part of the year when he slips into the driver’s seat of his car. Just before he can drop his phone into one of the cup holders on the middle console, a Twitter notification lights up on screen. 

Wonwoo would’ve thought it was from the account dedicated to interacting with his viewers outside of streams. He’s got a decent number of followers there after all. Except the notifications for his official Twitter account have long been muted because of the massive online traction his tweets gain everyday. 

No, this one’s from another account entirely.

He feels no shame, opening up the most recent video you put up. What he does feel is a sick sort of pride at the sheer amount of engagement that the video received overnight—those faceless Twitter accounts in the replies looking for other desperate fucks to recreate it with. 

This is one of Wonwoo’s favorites. Part of the select few that he actually deigned to keep hidden in the gallery of his phone for…future use. He can barely contain his own heady arousal as he watches the same clip he took with his own camera the previous night. 

Those desperate little noises you made. The way your body writhed while getting a good dicking down. And how you were so fucking eager to slide Wonwoo’s cock back inside your cunt after having him cum all over your tits. 

Seeing you wearing the same goddamn fishnet bodysuit beneath your stupid maid costume on the stream not only made him pop a hard-on in the middle of boys’ night, but also called for drastic interventions, so to speak.

🐈‍⬛: Finish up that stream asap. I’ll be there in 20. 

🐈: fuck you, i just started 5 minutes ago

🐈‍⬛: You know I don’t like it when you talk back, right?

🐈: fine

🐈‍⬛: What?

🐈: …yes, daddy

🐈‍⬛: That’s what I thought.

end notes: hehe i hope you like it so far! i think it will take me a While to finish this, and i didn't want the blog to go stagnant for too long, so i thought, eh, why not post a teaser? edit: thank you for giving the teaser some love! the full fic can now be found here!

[laf-outloud]

Hi, I hope it's okay to vent this out here. I'm sorry, I just don't know where I can safely share this opinion and criticism and not get attacked for it so I hope it doesn't have any hate tossed your way if you decide to post this (if you don't, that's totally fine, I understand, I don't want you to get attacked either).

I've admittedly been a fan of Jensen for the last few years, Supernatural longer, but recently more and more my respect and appreciation of him as an individual has been waning. I still appreciate the characters he plays, the shows he's on, him as a performer, but as a person, he has been straight up saying (and doing) some problematic things that have opened my eyes and pulled me out of the stream of blind consciousness known as AA-world. From what happened with prequelgate (which history has now shown just how much of a cash cow it was and how shady he acted about it, this new One Tree Hill show proving this is how the Ackles apparently conduct themselves professionally) to "Bitch Alba" to the way he speaks about his kids sometimes (and that includes Danneel, I'm not a fan of hers but in general, that's how you talk about your wife and mother of your three kids?), the inflating of his ego, the constant adaptation of his demeanor depending on who he's with (Misha and JDM are the worst, he acts like Misha and he always seems to want to impress JDM), "old titties", and now last night. My respect for him was slowly sliding down to the bottom of the mountain of all of these things he's been doing and saying lately, and then it finally flatlined last night.

I'm all for respecting people's political beliefs and even though I can't stand Misha (I have never had a good feeling about that guy even before I found out all of his problematic history in the fandom and how now it's painfully obvious how attention seeking he is), I have to admit that the guy has been consistent when it comes to his politics and taking action. Despite my dislike for him, I do believe he is very genuine when it comes to that particular arena. I saw it in action with the last election for example, so this one didn't surprise me that he got involved with some of the Harris-themed livestreams. Had Jared been there (I have no idea if he was invited, couldn't make it, or what), I do feel that he would have been genuine in his presence there as well as his answers. He's a genuine guy who appears to wear his heart on his sleeve a lot. Mark was very genuine. Jim Beaver, too. Curtis. They all listed why they were there and why they were voting for Harris.

Then there was Jensen. Sigh. To be fair, I didn't see the whole Boys section so perhaps he answered further during that segment if Eric or someone else asked him, but during the Supernatural one...I couldn't believe what I was seeing and hearing. I'm not defending him (obviously) but I do think nerves played somewhat of a part because he looked a bit uncomfortable, but that still doesn't excuse (in my opinion) how disingenuous his answer was. I can understand the kids part because that absolutely makes sense, but he worded it in a way that made it sound like a) that was the only reason he was voting this way & b) almost as if it was their fault so if anyone got annoyed with him voting for Harris, they're being used as a tool to keep people appeased. Because how can you argue or get mad or disappointed in his choice if he's doing the right thing as any parent would and consider their kids' futures? And here's the thing, I never would have thought that it sounded like a ploy had he not done this previously at cons, when meeting fans, in interviews, etc. He always downplays something he says or does that he thinks is going to be problematic for his fanbase and shifts responsibility in a way that isn't super obvious (except to those of us paying attention and not drinking the AA kool-aid). He may have been aggressive with the whole "hate watch" commentary about TW but he even eventually set up Danneel, the cast, and others to be blamed if it didn't work out. There is ALWAYS one reason or another that he throws up there on why no one should or would ever blame him. So that's why this one, while yes a valid reason (and could be part of the real reason he chose this candidate), it sounded like yet another shield to throw up "don't blame me if you don't like my choice, I have kids and I have to do what's right for them, don't get mad at me" etc.

Then he tries to stall to think of something he can say that's non-specific (and non-committal in my opinion) by making the joke that Mark just listed the many reasons, the several various reasons, everyone is there. That's a copout if I've ever seen one.

Then he says "When you look at the two candidates, there's just no question of who I want to be on the right side of history with." This to me is the most disingenuous of all. Having watched this guy speak publicly the last few years, this reeks of image to me and not genuine endorsement or even concern for the kids' futures he just referred to or about any policies or the direction the country should head in or hope or change or anything. It's about "who I want to be on the right side of history with". Who even says that except someone thinking ahead on how this will affect their image and if they're not on the "right side of history" with? I get it, he's an actor, he has to think about his image in that way and how it will affect his present and future work opportunities, and Misha did indeed corner him by purposely drawing attention to Jensen specifically and asking him that question (to be fair, he wasn't the only one asked during that segment and who answered), but come on. I believed Curtis when he spoke. I believed Jim when he spoke. I believed Mark when he spoke. I even believed Misha (like I said, yuck about the guy, but he is genuine in this one topic). But Jensen saying that just royally pissed me off because to me it was so obvious that he truly doesn't give a shit as to why everyone else is there. (the same guy who has a public platform and could use it for something other than himself or his brewery for example) He was there because of Vought Rising and Soldier Boy being up front and center, because of Amazon Prime and Countdown, and to "be seen". That's it. He wasn't there because he wanted to be an activist like Misha or because he truly believes in Harris or the Democractic party or any politics (except Hollywood's). I know he's been part of political events and discourse before (I forgot how long ago he and Danneel were at that campaign event in Texas after endorsing that candidate and Danneel has spoken about politics before on social media when they lived down there), but this just reeked of "opportunity" to me and not the kind Harris keeps talking about. It was purely self-serving and good PR for him (in his and his team's minds anyway). Why do I believe that? Because he then follows it up with "But for my kids" as the last thing he says on the subject. Once again, throwing that you'd-be-an-asshole-to-question-this-reasoning shield up.

My respect for him as an individual person completely tanked once he finished speaking. Totally, without a doubt, fully disingenuous bullshit answer in my opinion. I'm not saying this because I expect him to be fully committed to his politics or this election or passionate about any of it like someone like Misha for instance. It's not because I wanted to hear him say something different. It's not about his political beliefs or mine or anyone else's. That's not why this was so disappointing (and slightly infuriating if I'm honest) to me. It's because it was more of the same crap from him, just in a different arena. And this election, no matter who you vote for, no matter which party, really matters. I truly believe that. Like any election. Rich celebrities are always trotted out during these times to help sway the vote one way or another, and to be able to tell the hard-working middle class what's best for them while their bank accounts and tables are full, sitting in a cushy house (or mansion) and never having to worry about their kids' education. Because rich celebrities always know what's right for the American people of various economic and living situations as a whole (can you sense my sarcasm here?).

So in my opinion, it's like, if you're going to sign up to do one of these things, then nut up or shut up. Not saying he has to divulge his private thoughts on the matter or go knocking on doors like some, but if you're going to use this for PR and so people can continue thinking "well" of you (and thinking of you period) and everyone around you states something realistic in relation to the event you are there for, then perhaps don't continue your usual bullshit? Perhaps don't make it obvious that you're only there to get PR perks and bonus points with your friends and those who can employ you/are employing you? Don't be so fucking transparent that you don't mind being up front and center in front of the camera for Supernatural (I know he stayed in the back of The Boys one, but I personally think it had to do with Karen and Erin being there, that's not me implying anything about them or him, more like implying something about his image and Danneel, etc) but then looking like you'd rather be elsewhere when the not-a-surprise question is then posed to you of why you're there? And maybe not make some awkward joke about alcohol while you stall for time to think of the most neutral self-conscious image-positive answer you could think of, all while throwing your kids up as a shield?

Maybe you disagree with me and you didn't see his answer that way. Maybe some others might, too, and that's cool if you or any of them do. We should all think for ourselves (I think one of the most important messages to come out of the Supernatural segment of the livestream last night). But for me, it was beyond disappointing that this was yet another confirmation that this guy appears to be full of shit everywhere we turn, and that he thinks all of his fanbase is that stupid and unable to see it for what it is, newsflash: not all of us are AA's, Jensen, some of us actually use that big spongy thing inside our heads). And it's even more frustrating that any other celebrity can be called out for this bullshit ploy online, no matter their wealth or status in the industry, including his castmates on any show, and yet you can't say a fucking word of genuine criticism when it comes to him. Instead, you have to enroll yourself in the Ackles Critic Protection Program and state anything less than a "he's king and she's queen and they can do no wrong ever" mentality anonymously. So, that all being said, I've lost complete respect for him and I'm done being a fan of his. That doesn't mean I hate Dean or Supernatural all of a sudden or any of his work, I can compartmentalize, but when it comes to the actor/individual himself, nope, no more. He can keep his sheeple of a stanbase who will be there to keep swallowing and buying (literally) the bullshit he gives and sells them. I'll be over here, actually using my brain and eyes that were given to me, and I'll head off on my merry way.

I'm truly sorry for the long rant, but that really bothered me last night and put me off of him for good. This is the last time I'm even going to refer to him online. I truly feel sorry for those who can't (and those who won't) see past the image he projects. Maybe that's why most of his fanbase focuses shallowly on his looks most of the time. Perhaps that is a reflection of the individual.

A public persona who likes their private life private is one thing, but this is a whole other in my opinion. Never meet your heroes is very true, but I would add to that never look for any authenticity that doesn't come with a dollar sign or Instagram follower count attached from them either. Extremely disappointing.

Thanks for letting me get that out. Again, if you don't want to post this, I wouldn't blame you. If you do decide to post, I hope no one attacks you for my stated opinion. If they do... 🐑 Enough said. Thanks for listening.

I've had a few people rant in my inbox before. Welcome!

It was easy to see last night who's truly engaged in the process and who isn't. Though, I will disagree about Misha. He may be vocal and consistent, but he's still only doing it for attention and exposure. He even said early on that the reason he got into politics, and then acting, was to be famous.

And while I don't believe everyone has to be as passionate about politics as someone else (I'm certainly not), I do see what your saying about Jensen's appearance. It felt very rehearsed and disingenuous, like he was there simply because Eric's his boss and that it would be good publicity. Frankly, there are other ways to get publicity than attending any event and acting disinterested the majority of the time. The most sincere words that came from Jensen were when he was saying Hi to Cory Booker.

As for his politics, there's only one time I saw a genuine interest from Jensen and that was when he supported a bill that would help his brewery. I don't expect him to share his politics with the world, but if he's going to attend a political rally event, he should at least act more interested than what we saw. He is an actor, after all.