#because it doesnt lead anywhere?

[dazachi]

just had a horrible thought of dazai actually secretly never having passed the ADA entrance exam, and thats why he's keeping himself away from them most of the time + is usually not included when Ranpo and Fukuzawa say the ADA, and he's just staying there because he doesn't know where else to go

[alwayssunnyinhawkins]

Idek what to say at this point

[metaforth]

Smalltalk discourse appears to be back in full swing. Once again people are airing out all the reasons they don't like people who don't want to get into random conversations.

And they always frame it the same way (when they don't want to say openly that they think you're weird and rude that is), you're just Anti-Smalltalk. Which is absurd. No one's Anti-Smalltalk. People aren't opposed to the concept. They're opposed to being treated like outcasts for not wanting to reciprocate small talk. You go chat it up with whoever you like just keep me out of it and it won't be problems.

People can not want to engage with small talk for all kinds of reasons, anxiety, shyness, they're just an introvert, many people on the spectrum (myself included) don't enjoy social interaction like that, maybe they're just in a bad mood, maybe they aren't but still just don't feel like it, some people just don't vibe and that's valid to.

If they're not telling you to go fuck yourself then there's nothing rude about them not engaging with your attempt to start a conversation. Even if they just don't respond instead or politely declining, they don't owe you a response in a conversation they didn't want to be a part of in the first place.

Again, enjoy your small talk with people who enjoy chatting back. No one's saying you can't do that. But can we just accept that not everyone feels like striking up random conversations?

[ifwdominicfike]

matt helps you out a little while taking a group photo with him and his brothers

── .✦. ──

“okay, guys can you hurry up my arms gonna fucking fall off already god-“ nick says while holding up the small camera in his hand.

you all had gone out but it really was just an excuse for you and nick to get good pictures to post, as the night went on the pink and orange hues in the sky were starting to fade before you knew it.

you guys had been trying to get a good picture for about 10 minutes now, nick was complaining about why he had to hold the camera, chris kept saying matt was blocking his view, and matt kept pointing out every cat he saw so you weren’t really getting anywhere.

“okay okay nick shut the fuck up already, kid we’re going” chris says obviously irritated by his brother, you stood in front of matt so you weren’t blocked by him. nick had angled the camera high to get all 4 of you in the photo, you heard the click and saw the flash go off.

“fuck y/n again you need to tiptoe or something bitch” you groan, this was the third photo already with only the top of your head showing. “no need to yell nick im right here, my ears are gonna melt off because of you” matt giggles at your response which also causes you to laugh along with him.

“can we hurry the fuck up before i start walking home i swear you guys are not funny” this leads to you, chris and matt to look at each other and laugh once more. “okay kid no need to throw a fit just come on” chris says motioning to the camera, same process again, only this time it was half of your face.

“there’s no way- im so done. matt get the car started im going home-“ your cut off by matt grabbing your wrist and dragging you back “nope sweetheart just one more, please?” he smiles and you groan rolling your eyes. “fine but what if w-“ you feel matts hands grasp onto your hips and lift you up a little “what the f- matt put me down” he laughs while tightening his grip.

“nick hurry up and take the picture come on” he says hurriedly, his touch tickling you, making you squirm and giggle, the flash goes off once again. “FINALLY.” nick yells “we finally have a decent picture, okay now we can go home” he bluntly says making his way towards the car, chris on the way right behind him.

“that was not funny matt, what if i fell?” you say, trying to straighten out your clothes from twisting and turning around in matts hold. “but you didn’t though baby, did you?” he grins while you roll your eyes at him in “annoyance”.

“yeah whatever matt” you couldn’t hold back your smile anymore when you felt his hand snake around your waist and pull you in closer, he looks down at you and smirks. his lips almost connecting with yours until you hear nick honk the horn. “can you guys hurry up?! im not trying to see you two make out 5 feet away from the car!”

you and matt burst into giggles “he just has to ruin everything, kids fucking annoying.” he grabs your hand and gives it a small kiss before making your way back to the car.

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

first blurb and idrk what this was.. i was bored and wanted to write it sigh. THIS WAS A PROMPT AND I COMPLETELY FORGOT WHERE I FOUND ITT 💔💔. ugh anyways i also know this is sorta unrealistic because the triplets are lowkey short kings.. BUT THAT DOESNT MATTER, bye love youu ᥫ᭡.

[lordprettyflackotara]

party monster || fred weasley

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. TW: partying, drug usage (cocaine guys), fred’s ooc sorry not sorry, paranoia, etc. just overall v mature themes. OBVIOUSLY DO NOT DO COCAINE. this has a lot of plot ;)

Fred Weasley was never one to turn down an invitation to a party. Especially not one from Mattheo Riddle, to a Slytherin party.

Fred had felt like he had seen it all. He had watched the Hufflepuffs get giggly over champagne, Gryffindors try muggle grass for the first time, and Ravenclaws make tame mixed drinks that sent their minds into oblivion.

Slytherin’s on the other hand, went as hard as Fred liked. Of course muggle grass and alcohol was provided. The usual sex addicts were on the prowl for someone new to warm their bed. But what Fred enjoyed about the Slytherins the most, was their lack of fear to try muggle substances.

The most recent substance the most fearless had been trying was cocaine.

George refused to attend Slytherin parties, frowning upon the houses entirety. Truthfully Fred used to be the same way, until Mattheo offered him his first joint. The dark lords son had introduced him to an entire new world of highs, ones that Fred couldn’t find anywhere else.

For the past year the core Slytherins had been trying different pills, ones Theodore had been smuggling from a muggle born Hufflepuff who was naive enough to think they were being used for medical purposes. Fred had been to enough of these parties to where no one questioned his presence. If anything, he was often greeted and offered a cigarette at the very least.

It was highly unusual for other houses to venture into the Slytherins events, old superstitions still highly believed in. Fred would’ve been the same way, if it weren’t for Mattheo. It was an unlikely friendship, one no one could understand. Not George, Not Draco, no one. The ginger scanned the room, excited to find his friend. Word on the street about cocaine being smuggled into Hogwarts was spreading like wildfire. Fred knew he had to be one of the first ones to try it.

Strolling up confidently to the couch Mattheo always sat, the ginger waved. One of Penelope Clearwaters friends sat in Mattheo’s lap, her blue uniform making her stick out like a sore thumb. Mattheo grinned at the sight of Fred, gently pushing the girl away from sucking more hickies onto his neck. “Why don’t you go take a few shots with Pansy and i’ll meet you over there in a second?” He suggested. The girl glanced at Fred, taking the hint and starting her journey of finding Pansy.

Theodore Nott sat on the other side of the couch, a cigarette loosely hanging from his lips. “My favorite Gryffindor, welcome to another rager,” Mattheo chuckled, gesturing to the party that was occurring around them. Fred took a seat beside the brunette, greeting Theodore as well. “So Riddle, what do you have for me? You know I love to try whatever new hits the market,” Fred asked. Mattheo reached into his pocket, holding up a small plastic baggy of white powder.

Fred’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion. Previously he was under the impression that all muggle party substances were in the form of small pills. “That looks like it’s going to taste like shit,” Fred pointed out. A genuine chuckle escaped Mattheo’s lips as he grabbed a small metal tray. “Thats because it does, you don’t swallow it, you snort it,” He explained. Fred watched curiously as he poured the powder onto the tray. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wand.

Mattheo used the tip to slice it into three tiny lines, the small amount only furthering his curiosity. “How many milligrams is that per line?” Fred asked, trying to get a better grasp on the drug in front of him. Once Mattheo made sure the lines looked even, he set his wand aside. “Doesnt work like that. Nott, wanna lead by example?” He asked, gesturing the tray to him.

Theodore didn’t seem to hesitate at all, his nose hovering over one of the lines and inhaling it without a second thought. His lack of hesitance made Fred more confident. “Alright alright let me see what all of this hype is about,” The ginger interjected. Fred was determined to ‘one up’ Theo, the potions master always a bit too cocky for his liking. (Even if he thoroughly enjoyed spending hangovers with him.)

Fred mimicked Theo’s actions, holding one side of his nose as he inhaled the first line. Flames seem to spread through his nostril, the ginger deciding to ignore it and to snort the other line as well. Sharp pain washed over Fred’s senses, the feeling of the powder sliding down the back of his throat making him cough. “Look at that! Atta boy,” Mattheo said encouragingly, patting Fred on the back. As the brunette took a cigarette out of the box Theo gestured to him, he gestured to the party.

“Let’s get out there, shall we?”

Fred had never felt more talkative in his life. From Pansy, to Blaise, to Slytherins he didn’t know, he could not stop talking. Sober, Fred was a very social person. But he knew when to let the conversation fizzle out. But as of right now? That concept didn’t exist. He felt utterly invincible, as if the world itself existed around him for his pleasure and his only. His throat had gone numb, unable to feel the shots he downed repeatedly.

As he was talking to Blaise about his latest prank, his eyes briefly flickered to you. You were mesmerizing, a girl he had never seen before. Fred ensured to keep track of girls in his year, knowing which ones were taken and what not. But you looked to be the same age as him and he had never seen you a day in his life. You stood by the alcohol table, pouring raw tequila down your throat. Without excusing himself Fred left, abandoning his conversation with a way too drunk Blaise.

Fred knew he had to meet you, something about you calling to him. Even as you downed the liquor your hips swayed to the music, your curves intriguing Fred even more. The ginger didn’t feel one ounce of nervousness, the coke having imbedded in his mind. “Hey there, mind if I have a swig?” Fred asked. Your eyes widened at the sight of him, before handing him the bottle. “Thanks,” He said, taking a drink. Fred’s throat was completely numb, the firey liquid not affecting him at all.

He handed the bottle back to you, giving you a sly grin. Your lips were painted a dark red, your beautiful eyes accompanied by flattering dark makeup. The kind Fred could only imagine a Slytherin could pull off. “You have something right here,” You replied, pointing to your upper lip. In a sudden movement you stepped forward, wiping the very top of Fred’s lip. You held up your thumb, the faintest sprinkle of white powder coating the pad of your thumb.

“Thanks, been a wild night. When new muggle stuff comes in it’s always exciting to try it,” Fred said, unscathed by your action. If anything he was into it, thrilled that you were so touchy. “It always is, isn’t it?” You say, taking another swig of the bottle. Fred couldn’t help but grin, thrilled that a girl as hot as you understood his enthusiasm. It was difficult finding another student so adventurous, yet here you stood.

A girl behind you waved at Fred, a friend of Pansy’s. Fred waved back, making a mental note to talk to her later. “So, a lion playing with snakes?” You ask, creating conversation. He hadn’t realized he had just been standing there, his eyes flickering in every direction. Soaking in the party, the music, you, the lights, Pansy’s friend-

“I’m a good friend of Riddle’s, great isn’t he?” Fred said. He gestured to the brunette who was currently dancing on top of a table, his tie loose and hanging around his shoulders. A cigarette hung on his lips, his hips occupied by grinding on the Hufflepuff in front of him. You nodded in agreement, shrugging. After tonight Fred made another mental note to ask Mattheo about you. You were awfully quiet for a Slytherin.

“A real charmer, that’s for sure,” You replied, your words laced with sarcasm. Your eyes flickered to Fred, shooting him a playful smile. “As are you. I see where he learns it from,” You continue, biting your lower lip. Flattery was the gingers weakness, a cocky smile creeping across his lips. “Hey, you wanna get out of here? My dorms gonna be empty. Roommates crashing with one of the boys,” You ask, pointing to the dungeons. Fred knew about the girls rooms being in the dungeons all too well, his visits down there frequent.

“Sure, lead the way little witch,” Fred purred. You grabbed his large hand, your skin cold to the touch. You led him through the hot swaying bodies, your hand gripping his his. As you both approached the staircase to go down further Fred looked over his shoulder, his eyes landing on Mattheo. The brunettes eyebrows were furrowed as he watched him, mouthing a clear question: ‘you good?’

Fred smiled and nodded, shooting him a thumbs up as he followed you down the dungeons. If there was anything Fred knew about Slytherins, without stereotyping them too much, was that they cared about appearances. They kept precise upkeep about their looks, (maybe not including Mattheo), that it teetered towards an unhealthy amount. In Fred’s opinion anyway. He didn’t have to deal with strict parents with pureblood ideologies, so he didn’t feel like he had room to judge.

As you led him further down the staircase he noticed several mirrors in between portraits, for students to use while heading up to the common room. Fred’s focus mainly was on himself, noticing how large his pupils were. You both reached towards the end of the staircase, Fred’s eyes still focused on the mirror. For a split second he squinted, noticing he didn’t see you. His hand was being held in mid air, your fingers not entangled around his palm like he saw before him.

Questioning was on the tip of his tongue, your abrupt words cutting him off. “My dorm is further down and I need you, now,” You say urgently, palming at Fred’s shirt. His eyes flickered to yours, unsure. “Did you see that? You weren’t in the reflection,” Fred asked, completely ignoring your statement. You raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the girls bathroom on the right side of the hall. “You’re paranoid, do you want to fuck or not?” You asked.

Fred shook his head, trying to rationalize with himself. He had a hot witch standing in front of him and he was about to fuck up a one night stand because of some muggle drug. “Absolutely,” Fred agreed, allowing you to lead him into the bathroom. Admittedly this was one place Fred hadn’t been, his knowledge of the room little to none. He was surprised that a velvet green couch sat almost in the center of the room. Would that have been his style choice? Absolutely not. Do witches tend to take their time in the restrooms gossiping? Fred believed so.

Your lips were on him before he could process it, his back hitting the couch. You tasted like raw alcohol, his tastebuds flooded with the sensation as you got on top of him. Fred was typically dominant, but he never minded a Slytherin topping him. You were so confident, tugging your shirt over your heard before reattaching your lips to his. Your touch made Fred want to immediately submit, his cock growing harder by the minute as you straddled him.

“Hard already? Naughty naughty gryffindor,” You teased, biting his bottom lip. Fred groaned, his hands flying to your waist. He guided you to grind against him, his cock growing achingly hard. You kissed down the side of his face to his neck, sucking at his sweet spot. Fred squeezed your thighs, whimpering as your lips littered his skin with marks. You kissed down his clothed chest, all the way down to his aching cock.

You teasingly kissed his hard on, maintaining eye contact as you did so. The ginger bucked his hips towards, throwing his head back as you unbuckled his belt. “If you want me to suck your cock you’re going to have to beg Freddie,” You say, unbuttoning his jeans. Spews of pleas left his lips faster than he would like to admit, “Fuck, please, touch me, please.”

A brief concern of how you knew his name crossed his mind, the worry fading as you shoved his boxers and jeans down his thighs. Fred was decently known, maybe you had known him for an infamous prank or-

His spinning thoughts came to a screeching halt as you took him into your mouth. Fred couldn’t control his noises, you taking control of him and his pleasure one of the hottest things he had ever seen. As you bobbed your head up and down on his cock, Fred chopped up his previous mental ramble to paranoia. Most likely he was coming down from his high, his body adjusting his mind back to normal.

Fred didn’t even know your name, but the moans he was making made it sound like he did. He was pure putty at your hands, willingly and merciless at your disposal. His tip brushed against the back of your throat, expectancy of the sound of gagging ensuing. Except it didn’t. Fred looked down at you in awe, your eyes meeting his. You didn’t have a gag reflex? What kind of magic was this?

He roughly grabbed the back of your head, pushing you down further onto his cock. You took his length with ease, saliva pooling to the base of his shaft. “Merlin, you’re a goddess right? Sent to me from above?” Fred panted, his mind trying to wrap around you. You pulled off of his cock, his hands not affecting your movement. He thought he had applied a decent amount of pressure, even if it was involuntary. What were you? Were you some kind of-

“Maybe, maybe you’re just my personal pet. My babies get the best treatment you know,” You purred. The ginger had no idea what you were rambling about, but what he did know, was that he wanted you to fuck him. “Ride me, fuck, please ride me,” He whined. Most girls would’ve asked for foreplay, head, or something along those lines. But you didn’t ask for either, instead lifting up your skirt and shoving your panties to the side. You guided his tip up and down your drenched folds, the feeling of your warm slick enough to make Fred groan.

He couldn’t understand why he felt so sensitive, his body on cloud nine just from your simple touch. You sank down onto his cock with ease, your walls clenching around him. Fred threw his head back, unable to formulate coherent words as you began to ride him. You seemed unfazed by his size, riding him like you had been doing so for years. Fred was not only unable to speak, but completely and utterly speechless.

You didn’t seem real, his unrealistic expectations for a hookup playing out in front of him. You leaned forward, one hand placed on his throat while the other tugged at his hair. “You like that huh? Feel good Freddie?” You asked. Fred groaned an agreement, his cock brushing against your g spot with every roll of your hips. Most witches would tire out by now, opting to switch positions. Yet you didn’t, your body not seeming to tire as you squeezed at the sides of his throat.

“So good, Merlin, you’re going to be the death of me,” Fred moaned as you licked up the side of his neck. He felt his orgasm approaching, the ginger flustered by the feeling. Was it the coke that was going to make him bust quick? Or was it how well you were riding him? His eyes wondered over your shoulder, landing on a large full length mirror. The presence of the mirror wasn’t surprising, but what was, was your absence. You weren’t present in the reflection, Fred’s head beginning to spin.

“Uh, you’re not in the m-mirror, I-” Fred stuttered, his high approaching faster than he wanted it to. He wanted to go all night with you, but why weren’t you showing up in the mirror? You sat up, your breast bouncing as you continued to ride him.

“You’re being paranoid Freddie, now why don’t you go ahead and cum for me?”

Fred’s hips stuttered as he came inside of your cunt, his head rolling back onto the couch. His ears were ringing, any sounds of you or the party dulling out into nothingness. He began seeing stars, his vision fading out completely. His senses had seemed to given up, Fred’s body unable to sustain itself, passing out.

\/

Fred had woken up a lot of strange places after a party. Most times he woke up beside a witch whose name he didn’t know. Other times he would wake up in random places, one time including the whomping willow. (To this day, no one has any idea how he survived OR got a good nights sleep.) Where Fred had never been woken up before, was in the male Slytherin dorms. Nor, had he ever been violently shaken awake by someone. Faintly he could hear a familiar voice calling out to him, but the words were incoherent.

“Fred! Wake the fuck up!”

He jolted awake, his heart pounding out of his chest as he sat up. Scattered,he looked around, unaware of where he was. His eyes landed on Mattheo and Draco, both of which seemed extremely concerned. “W-what..?” Fred stumbled out. His head was pounding with a rager headache, his body felt drained and spent. “Pansy found you uh-” Draco began, before shooting Mattheo a look that he should speak instead. Mattheo sighed, handing Fred a glass of water.

“She found you in the girls bathroom passed out with your pants pulled down and you uh, came all over yourself,” Mattheo informed him. Fred could feel himself turning red, clutching the water in his hand. His eyes widened in disbelief, becoming dizzy again as he rested his hand on his forehead to keep himself propped up.

“Do you have any idea how you ended up like that dude?” Mattheo asked, keeping his voice even. Bags hung under his eyes, his knee bouncing anxiously. It was rare Fred ever saw Mattheo sober, but he could definitely tell he was. You raced through the gingers mind, embarrassment flooding over him. You weren’t real? None of it was real?

A knock on the door alerted the trio, the Slytherins eyes landing on the new comer. “Well shit I see the party monsters awake,” Theodore said, waltzing in. His confidence made Fred uneasy, his stomach churning. “Do you happen to remember what happened last night?” He asked him, his voice breaking. Theo nodded, taking a seat. “Why don’t you drink some water and i’ll tell you all about it?”

Theo didn’t know Fred well by any means. Sometimes he questioned what Mattheo saw in the ginger, the prankster a bit too full of himself. It was a coincidence he saw him by the alcohol table, talking to himself. At first Theo assumed he was yelling to someone, or even on a muggle phone a lot of Gryffinors used. Cautiously Theo rounded the table, raising his eyebrows as Fred offered the bottle of tequila he had been cuddling to the air in front of him.

The brunette couldn’t believe his eyes, watching dumbfounded as Astoria Greengrass gave him a wave. Briefly his eyes flickered upwards at the Slytherin, before returning to the void in front of him. With a confused expression Theo decided it was none of his business, returning back to Mattheo with new drinks in hand. He figured he was just high, anyways. Unknowingly Mattheo had recommended Fred to Astoria, who was looking for a quick hook up to help her get over her ex.

A dumbfounded Astoria had beat Theo to Mattheo, her lips moving a mile a minute. She was weirded out by Fred’s behavior, the ginger confirmed to be talking to the air. Mattheo’s eyes flickered upwards, watching as Fred was heading towards the stairs. His hand was held out in front of him, a goofy smile spread across his lips. He made eye contact with Mattheo, who managed to communicate through all the noise and ask if he was good.

Fred seemed more than good, excitedly nodding and heading down to the dungeons. It wasn’t until the next morning Pansy came running, trying to get the boys to help her carry Fred before anyone saw him.

As the group sat in Mattheo’s room you watched from the shadows, invisible to everyone around you. You had died from a cocaine overdose in 1970, the curse of your afterlife being that no one could see you. The only time anyone did, was when they had done the drug themselves. You didn’t quite understand the logistics of it, other ghost able to see you, but no being with a beating heart could.

You had been shocked Fred had seen you at the alcohol table, after being used to being unseen for so long. As cocky and mischievous as you knew Fred to be from watching, you liked him. So much so that you knew scaring the ever loving fuck out of him was going to be the only way he would never touch the horrid stuff again. Party monsters like Fred, often times danced on the line between life and death. Their bodies, from what you could understand, would be into overdrive. That crossover allowed him to see you.

You thoroughly enjoyed fucking Fred, even if the ginger now regretted it. And as much as you wished you could see him again, you knew he deserved a better chance at life. “Bloody hell, i’m never touching that stuff again,” Fred groaned, cupping his pounding head. You smiled at his confession, walking up to Draco’s side. You stood beside him, the blonde unaware of your presence. Your mission was complete, Fred would be on a better path now. You smiled to yourself, watching as the ginger lifted his head.

His eyes widened, centered on you.

“What the actual fuck are you doing here?!”

He can see you?

a/n: can yall tell im into plot twist rn? lol. might do a part two if yall want it >:)

[featguler]

hii your fics are written so well it’s captivating and beautiful!!

can u write sumn abt attempting to find out if the reader is single or available w kylian :)

heard the risk is drownin' ────── kylian is charging straight in.

♡ ────── pairing : kylian mbappé x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified, but they are described to be smaller than kylian. set in the cannes film festival; reader is a film scholar/film critic and is teaching at a university. reader doesnt have an insta sorry i gotta make this easy for me. kylian is down baaaaad he's also kind of assholeish here but he's also hot so idc. NOT PROOFREAD!! ♡ ────── wordcount : 1,277 ♡ ────── notes : this is such a cute request!! i love him so much, thank you for requesting this 🥺 disclaimer ive never been to cannes but i wish i have. this is a good luck one-shot for france tonight!! title based on risk by gracie abrams ♡ masterlist.

Kylian wants you.

It’s clear to see ever since a friend invited him to her private, directorial debut screening. Filled with pretentious film commentators, Kylian almost questioned his sanity in accepting this seemingly random invitation from a friend he knew from Catholic school over ten years ago.

Almost.

Almost, because you were the lighthouse that helped him navigate the mist that night. During dinner, you seemed oblivious to his superstar status, and initiate the conversation you shared with a fun and lighthearted question about his favorite movie.

“I didn’t know,” you laughed to yourself when he told you he was the Mbappè from 2018’s FIFA World Cup, “Sorry. I guess not everything revolves around films.”

Contrary to others in the revel, you were able to communicate in a way he understands—you didn’t sigh when revealed that he had never seen (heard of, even) a film you mentioned, and you were able to eloquently steer the course of your conversation in a way that is both enjoyable but also challenging for him.

Paired with the way your eyes twinkle under the dim lighting, just like that, he was in love.

And he wants you.

It’s simple for everyone that knows him to see. He repeats your name under his breath—the only thing he learned that night—and shakes his head when he recalls that he cannot find you anywhere.

He wants you. He wants you bad.

He thinks you’re cheeky. When he searches your name up on Google, all that came up were the papers you had written to contribute to multiple visual culture journals and books, or an article of a film you wrote published by a third party website from six months ago. No Instagram account, no Facebook account, no nothing.

Kylian tries asking his agent at least 50,000 times, but it’s not like his agent, or any sports agent for that matter, would have the connection to set him up with someone like you.

And he would ask fucking Clémentine, but she gatekeeps information about you like she is a shepherd clinging on her last dozen sheeps, leaving his messages on read and calls unanswered. Being Kylian Mbappè does not help him at all. Even being her friend does not help him at all.

He guesses that he could send you an email, but what’s attractive about that? He’s desperate, but not desperate in the sense that he would write an email on his iPad and send it to you like some kind of student hoping for a raise in grades. He’s a damn footballer. What he wants to do is take you out on a nice dinner before bringing you back to his house, not ask you to collaborate on an academic paper about film semiotics—or whatever these papers talk about.

And that leads us to today. Let's set the scene. 

The time: the first Saturday of the Cannes Film Festival 2024, first screening of the day; the place: the Cannes Film Festival, Cannes, France; and the characters: Kylian Mbappè Lottin, fucking Clémentine, and you.

Well, he doesn’t know where the fuck Clémentine is, and he couldn’t give less of a fuck where Clémentine is.

Somehow, he ended up finding a spot to sit to your right, and instead of taking in the highly anticipated work of a certain Greek director, Kylian leaned to place his cheek on a closed fist supported by his elbow against the arm rest, occasionally glancing to his left in hopes to get a glimpse of your eyes against the bright screen, testing in every crinkle on your face when a certain scene was shot in a way that amused you.

When will another one of such invaluable opportunities rise?

“So,” As soon as the standing ovation dies down and the theatre lights are turned back on, Kylian turns to you, starting a conversation. “What did you think?”

“Wonderful,” still dazzled, the smile remains etched on your lips. “Unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, I swear.”

“Oh, wow.” he laughs, placing a palm against his mouth for a moment. “And I’m here thinking that you’ve seen more films than the average person.”

“Oh, yeah,” you nod, immediately catching up to his playful tone, “I’ve seen at least five movies.”

Quiet laughter is shared between the two of you, and Kylian feels a familiar, comfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. “So that makes this the sixth movie that you’ve watched?”

“In my entire lifetime, yes,” you giggle.

Kylian bites his lips before rubbing the side of his neck, for a short moment which he hopes you don’t notice the anxiety brewing within him. “Well, this is my first film, actually. So I was really excited to watch it.”

“Five more to go,” you notice everyone else beginning to stand up, patiently waiting for their turn to escape from their row and exit the theatre. “Then maybe you’ll have half the experience I do.”

The tone of your reply draws out another laugh from him.

Damn.

All he does is laugh when you are around. You must be the funniest person he’s ever met.

“So,” Kylian clears his throat when you stand, following your suit. “What’s your plan after this?”

“Clémentine and I are thinking of sharing a pizza down the street for lunch before returning for the 2 PM showing,” you shake the watch around your wrist before looking back at him with a dazzling smile. “What about you?”

“Clémentine?” Kylian muses, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of you. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen her.”

“What’s with that face?” You begin walking behind the person before you, still somewhat facing him. “I’m sure. You must be busy.”

“Eh, it’s all just show. I got nothing to do most of the times,” he raises his shoulders with a grin. “Well, what’s after the 2 PM screening?”

“I’ve got papers to grade,” you sigh, feeling a slight chill when the summer breeze brushes over your skin the moment you both step outside the studio. You squint your eyes at the sun, turning to him. “Wish I could stay around longer, but I’ve got responsibilities.”

Kylian tilts his head, still smiling at you. “Yeah? I was actually thinking that I can take you out for dinner tonight.”

You blink, and turns your body so that you were fully facing him—only then do you realize how big he looks: his broad shoulders, the shape of his chest pressed under his thin shirt.

“Oh,” you stammer, taking a step back once you noticed how close you two are standing to each other. “I– uh, you know—”

“Responsibilities?” He asks with a light chuckle. “That’s fine. Another night?”

Kylian watches your pupils dilate, shifting to every single thing around you except for him, avoiding eye contact at all cost. “That’s very kind of you, it’s just—”

Then, it clicked on him.

“Oh,” he says with a furrow of his eyebrows, lips pressing into a frown. “Boyfriend?”

You clear your throat, and the nod you give him is timid, but it is a nod.

Kylian takes a deep breath, burying both his hands in his pockets, for a moment staring off into the distance, before turning back to you with a gentle smile.

“Then,” he closes the gap to you with a step, looking around for a moment, before leaning in to whisper in your ear. “When you break up with him, let me know. I’d love to take you out for dinner.”

And casually, he straightens his back.

“I’ll see you around,” he laughs softly with a wink, raising his hand to wave at you as he walks away.

[420technoblazeit]

every once in a while i think about endverse destiel and feel like throwing up btw it drives me insane. theoretically since they only have each other they should be closer than ever. but in this world they aren't. cas has given up on life and spends every second stoned out of his mind so he can remain in blissful ignorance because he feels like he can't be useful to anyone without his powers. dean's crumbling under the guilt of failing everyone and the pressure of having to lead. he's forced to make harder and harder decisions for the sake of the group, not even realizing that he's becoming more like john with every passing day

it's just a worse, even more unbearable version of their dynamic in late season 5 because cas doesnt think he's even worth keeping around anymore. he's fallen for dean but it's cost him so much that he'd rather bury his head in the sand and wait for death to take him. he'll still follow dean anywhere but he doesnt know why he even wants him around at this point when he cant do anything to help. and dean knows that it's his fault that cas is human now, knows that he dragged him into a losing battle with nothing to show for it and he hates himself for it. hates that no matter how angry and ruthless he gets cas will stay until the bitter end

[bug-bites]

thinking abt simon "ghost" "acts of service" riley

like in my head he isn't too fond of physical touch. he wont burst into tears and start crying and shaking if you hug him but its very much reserved for the very few people who are close to him. its not that he's scared of it or it makes him super uncomfortable, its just he has other ways of showing people he loves them!

he's the type of guy who when you're getting to know him, listens and remembers every detail you tell him, and makes mental notes of your dislikes and likes w/o you having to tell him.

he takes cold showers every day and when you ask him he just tells you "its better, wakes me up in the mornings" but its really because he knows you like taking hot showers from all the times he's walked into the washroom once you're done and noticed the mirror all fogged up from the steam. he just wants to make sure you dont run out of hot water

in a passing conversation you mention feeling a bit sick, maybe its the change in weather or your allergies acting up but you just really are hoping it isnt a cold. simon doesnt say much but later you find a small ziploc baggie of peeled orange slices with a sticky note with your name on on it

when you go out together and you're a little underdressed for the weather he notices the goosebumps on your arms and how you constantly are rubbing them with your hands, trying to subtly warm yourself from the friction. you dont do a good job however because he glances at you and lets out a small sigh

"what did i say before heading out" "bring a jumper..." you mumble in response "and what did you do?" he crosses his arms over his chest but he isn't mad or annoyed, not in the slightest "not bring a jumper"

it feels like you're on the verge of being lectured but simon just rolls his eyes and gestures you to follow him. you're lead to his car and he opens the trunk, tossing you a black zip up sweater. he's scolding you somewhat, saying that "this is why you're getting sick" and other nonsense and you're lucky he "forgot" to take that sweater out of the trunk or boot because hes bri'ish. you happily take it and put it on because you're not about to turn down a sweater when you're freezing also its from simon and it just looks so comfy! it's definitely big on you because lets face it, simon is built like an industrial freezer, but the material is soft and cozy, with the added bonus of smelling like him. you thank him for the sweater and carry on with your day, not thinking much of it. truth is, however, he always has that extra sweater in his car for you. makes sure its there before you two go anywhere, neatly folded and tucked into the back. he would never admit it though he's such a pussy

when asked about his little favours he does for you he constantly pulls excuses from his ass, saying its just a coincidence that he had those things or literally anything to hide that he goes out of his way to do it for you. he cares about you, he actually cares a lot about you but he's just a tiny bit embarrassed to admit it. he loves you so much but he doesn't want you to think he's like kicking his legs and giggling over the thought of you even though he probably has at some point but you dont need to know that

he thinks he's sooooo subtle and sneaky about it but when you fall asleep and you wake up with a sweater over top of you like a blanket that a) you are 100% sure doesn't belong to you and b) has "S. Riley" written in sharpie on the tag (with a tiny skull doodle next to it), theres no way in hell you can be oblivious to how much he cares about you.

[mysicklove]

i was reading all your posts under the big brother au tag (I love love love this au! its so cute I cant- TT) and I saw that reader is in school to be a teacher! as a teacher in training this immediately made me think of how little yuji would react when reader is doing their internship in his school but not the same class and how hed want to stay next to the reader the whole day if shes at school, making a fuss if shes busy with another class and she cant help him

or or- while shes busy doing something, the other teachers call her to help calm yuji down cause he got hurt and he hasn't stopped crying since and he wants to be near or her or sukuna but he isn't picking up his phone or smth

this is so cute im falling to my knees and crying.

it would def be very hard, because all he wants to do is go hangout with you and seeing you interact with the kids in the other class makes him so jealous :(. he is always clutching at nanamis pants and whining about how he wants to see you. the poor preschool teacher has to give him extra attention that day bc of how restless he seems to be knowing that you are at his school and not with him. but nanami does lead the boy over to you when you take your lunchbreak, and yuuji is back to his normal self, chatting and giggling with you about his day and how much he misses you.

but, when you do visit their class for a short time, he shows you off to all of his friends of course, saying how amazing you are and how much he loves you. but then all the other kids realize how kind you are too, and all of the sudden the other preschoolers are all fighting for your attention. and so yuuji ends up pawing at your clothes and asking you to pick him up with tears in his eyes, because he doesnt want the other kids to steal you away. you have to reassure the boy that you love him the most and arent going anywhere, while he sniffles into your neck. the itadori brothers both cannot seem to share you for the life of them.

ahhhh the last part is so cute!!! yuuji loves sukuna, but the second the boy gets hurt or is sick, he is trying to find you as quick as possible bc you always coddle him the most during these times. and so when he trips and scraps his knee on the playground, you are being dragged out the their recess where the boy cries and cries on your lap while both you and nanami have to banadage him up. you end up having to sit on the bench while holding petting yuuji while megumi and nobara leave their other friends to talk to the two of you

ugh i love this idea soooo much, i honestly might write a full fic on it!!

[asthedeathoflight]

I don't know if the paperback bonus content is available online anywhere and I'm not sure whether this comes from HtN or GtN (I read both their bonus content at the same time in a bookstore - thematically I feel like it's a Gideon bonus bit? But I'm not sure) but the bit about cavalier/necromancer relations makes me INSANE. Like they go ON AND ON about how you CANNOT be too attached to your partner and it is totally taboo for your partner to be your lover but ALSO to be a family member of yours - to the point that apparently the third house (who get paired up in childhood) has faced scrutiny from other houses because being raised together might lead to the development of a sibling relationship.

And post GtN this seems very sinister. Gideon even notes that cavalier's use of the rapier makes sense considering it's the lightest sword and thus the easiest for a necromancer-turned-Lyctor to use. It really feels at the end of the book like this has been the end point of the Necro/cav dynamic all along. Cavaliers are just there as meat bags to be eaten, and you're not allowed to love them because obviously they're just there to learn the sword for you and then get gobbled.

And then we get to Harrow and we find out that no!!!! That's not what it was supposed to be at all!!!!! Abigail and Magnus, Camilla and Palamedes, Gideon and Harrow - they haven't gotten cavalierhood wrong, they got it right! That's what it always was! It was original Lyctorhood that ruined the relationship of necromancer and cavalier!

The thing that makes necros hold their cavs at arms length (and vice versa) isn't a sinister plot; it's /grief/. It's ten thousand year old grief. It's an ENTIRE SOCIETY running on the logic that grieving people so often find themselves clinging to in the wake of loss: love like this hurts too much to lose, so I won't ever love like that again.

AND IT DOESNT EVEN FUCKING WORK! YOU CANT JUST NOT LOVE PEOPLE!!!! ITS IMPOSSIBLE!!!!!! THATS THE THESIS OF THIS ENTIRE GODDAMNED SERIES!!!! YOU CAN NEVER ESCAPE LOVE. AND SO YOU CAN NEVER ESCAPE GRIEF.

[nibbelraz]

I thought about something the other day which I nearly wrote but I don't have the patience for- what if Mobei had a sudden epithany while snooping qinghua's house? cause obv hes gonna snoop. sqh is mad sus, and mobei has trust issues with his trust issues. but it suddenly occurs to him that the bed that he constantly steals from his little human is very much rather. luxurious. The mattress is thick and expensive, and sqh rotates and flips it frequently so it doesnt get lumpy. it has a topper(1)

(2) with cooling talismans all over it to make it a good temp for mobei any time he decides to sleep in it. the sheets are silk, soft, and light. they're in his colours. his shades. it's a huge bed- long enough for mobei to lay down fully stretched out and still have room. theres countless pillows made of whatever is best for mobei's hair. they're piled up and spread out in a decadance fit for royalty. its always clean. it always smells like him. hes never seen qinghua in it once.

(3) and surely, he must use it, right? it's still his bed, no matter how mobei frames it. But he knows what sqh smells like, and that scent has never been anywhere but in the fleeting touch of someone who changed the sheets. there's never been a lingering warmth from his humans body on the mattress. its the most luxurious, extravagant, expensive thing sqh owns. its not his. looking around the bedroom- is this his either? can he see anything that he might say with confidence is the cultivators?

(4) the answer is no. There's peak lord things in here, yes, but by the nature of being a spy, that's mobeis as well. So he looks- where does sqh sleep, if not a bed that (should? could?) be his own. The answer appears to be a cheap, small little daybed. It's uncomfortable. Mobei knows how big his human is, and this wouldn't fit him well. It's made well enough, but next to the actual bed in the room? It's a grade up from the floor. If Mobei laid on it he'd be off of it by his hips.

(5) honestly its not even good as a chair. It's uneven and kinda lumpy. There's a vague pillow- flat and showing signs of being folded often. A blanket that looks more like a repurposed curtain. It it bad so sqh doesn't lose it to mobei's wants? or worse, is it what he feels like he deserves? He already knew qinghua wasn't one to spend on himself but, he didn't think it was a possible fear of having it stolen from him. Does he have anything of his own worth having at all? Mobei doesn't know.

(6) anyway this obv leads into a comedy of errors where mobei is like. "qinghua. get into bed." and the man positively bluescreens because ??? literally how is he supposed to take that. and when he sorta makes a movement to just lay down on the day bed mobei is like. do you even fucking have any night clothes or do you just sleep like that. get night clothes. get into my bed. you're being cringe. my king with all respect due; crack? is it crack that you smoke? ))

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

He wants QINGHUA TO BE COMFY AND SLEEP GOOD IN A PROPER BED WITH PROPER CLOTHES AND WARM BLANKETS

Knowing them both it really would take Mobei an extremely long time to figure out that wait a minute, Qinghua doesn't sleep here at all?? Especially realizing the bed doesnt even smell like him, but the thought of him trying to fix that is so cute

I can also see him just picking Qinghua up throwing him into bed, Wrapping him up in furs and blankets and then tugging him to his chest

Yes he's comfortable now

ALSO QINGHUA BEING SO CONFUSED BECAUSE HE JUST UP AND DOES THIS WITHOUT ANY WARNING NOT EVEN SAYING ANYTHING

Ah I love how Mobei shows his love by trying to take care of his scared sweaty human

[littledigits]

Random facts that may amuse you about the river episode of hilda

To be handed a script and then be like ' ok now lead your team to do the visuals' its like ,a wild experience so I want to share some of the weird things my brain latched onto .. For the door sequence, My pitch to our location and color designers was based off of a blacklight, under water themed mini-putt course I used to love when I was a kid. Just goes to show you can really pull inspiration from anywhere haha. I dont think anyone expected me to go that buck wild with it but I'm glad everyone was on board. anyway.. I lovingly called it Eugene's ' Putt Putt cave of doom ' . I wanted the doors to look kind of flat, like stage props ! The mini putt is STILL THERE BTW . look at this video. GOSH I MISS IT SO MUCH.

Anyway - It works great too because it allowed everyone to have the cooler blacklight palettes, where you can see Eugenes -true- colors. I wanted him to be duller outside of the water on purpose. Cuz hes just a lil old timey guy. A " slightly deranged Stan Laurel " , which was what i had in my pitch notes to the design team.

Heres another silly fact but we based part of the serpent off of the sarcastic fringehead cuz..look at it . its just like -AHHHHHHHHHH. It just waves its mouth infront of other fish and it looks scary but it doesnt DO ANYTHING. ( I think, biologists can correct me)

Also just in general I was vibing with the old..creatures on a map . Like. Of course we're going to give this serpent hooves. OF COURSE THIS SEA SERPENT NEEDS HOOVES. So the designers did a few rounds based off of way older illustrations.

The choice of shadow puppets was done to give Eugene an 'old timey' flavor. I really wanted him to feel more vaudeville and tap dancey - so the shadow puppets were to give him a..more modest intro. The adventures of prince achmed was an inspiration, because how old school animation can you get ! And it really backed up the use of bold colors. I wanted to save his BIGGEST performance to the end, also shout out to @castletoons who boarded this episode AND nailed the song sequence WITHOUT EVEN HAVING THE FINAL SONG?! It fit perfectly. It was fate.

oh , and if you felt a particular beetle juicey tone to this whole episode? You're not wrong ! While it wasnt on my mind when I was first working on visual concepts, our storyboard supervisor Jeff Bittle showed me this intro from the second season of the animated show. Everything zipping at the camera on this endless void ride was the perfect chaotic energy that really helped bring in that sinister tone.

UH SO YEAH I mean I could go on about some of the thought processes behind choices and stuff and honestly I dont want to get into the weeds with opening up a pandoras box on behind the scenes of hilda or whatever. But I thought this episode was a fun example to kind of share a bit of The entire team ran with this weird chaotic energy and I appreciate them so much for it. I'll always love this strange lil episode.

[bitterbutblue]

Is it possible to request.. maybe Robin x reader things…?

Because i have ALOT of ideas 😞

the heartbreak time could never mend ☆ robin x fem!reader

~ so i decided to do a more angst route.. sorry anon T-T

robin falls in love with a civilian, but it's not what they want .. um i hope this doesnt hurt too bad

song: cornelia street - taylor swift ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

The letter that laid in front of her had been taunting her the moment she got home. She felt her throat close up, eyes stinging with unshed tears when she spots your familiar handwriting on top. Her heart has been aching to push itself out of her body, threatening to spill its own blood on the ground from the day she told you she didn't love you anymore. You remember that day too vividly, you remember that day every night you try to sleep and every morning when you wake up to the empty bed. You remember it too well because you remembered nothing ever being lead up to the point where she decided she no longer loved you.

"What the fuck do you mean, Robin?"

She had her back facing you, her halovian wings tucked in- a sign of agitation.

"I said I don't love you anymore."

Her voice was quiet, too calm for your own liking. She spoke as if it was just factual, as if you hadn't spent the past three years of your lives being each other's most important person.

"I don't want to do this anymore."

The world began spinning ever so slightly as you gripped at the edge of the table, trying to steady yourself. Your breathing grew more and more unsteady. You took in deep breaths, trying to calm that ache in your heart.

"Why?" Was all you could manage out "Why not?"

"Because I've fallen out of love."

Fallen out of love. It happens to people, more often or not. But you swear on your life that Robin had not fallen out of love because you still see the way she looks at you when you run into her on your way back home. You see through her civilian disguise, because you'd spot those eyes from anywhere. In a sea of people you'd recognise those eyes of hers and every time she looks at you and you only, she has the look reminiscent of a view of a harbour late at night. She has the look reminiscent of a heartbeat as one lays on their lover's chest- deep and sincere.

You still see that look in her eyes. You saw it the day you stormed out of her house, you see it the day you came back to get your stuff. You see it when you spot her walking down the streets and you know she hasn't fallen out of love. You know she hasn't fallen out of love because she looks at you with nothing but regret and pain, unspoken words and promises that beg to be let out. Eyes are just a simple human organ, made for us to see- yet eyes can hold more emotions than you could've ever processed and you learned this when she looked at you right before you left. Her facade dropped for just a bit and you see the gut-wrenching pain and regret that hits her almost immediately as soon as you opened the door. She opened her mouth, as if wanting to say something, but nothing comes out. Instead you watch her in silence for a moment, tears finally falling, before turning around and slamming the door shut.

You first fell for her because you worked at a cafe she really liked going to, and she noticed you because 1. you were absolutely stunning, and 2. you always drew the cutest little doodles and notes on her cup that had her swooning. She always talked to Sunday about 'that pretty barista who makes her drink the best' and Sunday had always urged her to talk to you. When she did finally approach you, you didn't recognise her as the idol Robin. You just gratefully accepted her request and she had never felt more light. She never understood what it meant to walk on Cloud 9 until you.

You finally connected the dots- why Robin never wanted to see you outside of her or your home, and why she always wore such dark clothing and sunglasses when she was out. You didn't care, you were just worried about her safety and you told her that if it was safer for you two to break up than to jeopardise her career, then you would be okay with ending things.

That was the day she fell more in love with you- more than ever. That was the day she wanted to be by your side forever.

That was the day she lied, the day she told you she would always put you over her career.

You loved her, you still do. You love her like she's the air you breathe, and you love her like a flame loves the cold air of the night. You loved her too much and too dearly and whenever you love someone too much it always come back to get you.

You remember the day she said those three words. It was on your bed, her laying in your arms after a long day of dealing with performances and fans, paparazzi and newspapers. You hold her close and you hold her tight. She nudged her head into the crook of your neck so that she laid on your chest. She let out a content sigh at the sound of your heartbeat.

"I love you."

You felt your own heart beating faster at her words and she giggled.

"Your heartbeat just sped up."

"I know."

You couldn't stop the embarrassment in your voice as she lets out a laugh that sounds akin to the sun rising over the city for a new day. Robin wraps her arms around you tightly, pressing a kiss to your neck, right at your pulse point.

"I love you, and I'll love you forever."

She sobbed in her bed for god knows how long after the door slams shut. She couldn't even call Sunday because she couldn't move without every fibre in her body burning from the pain that had spread from her heart. She sobbed until she couldn't speak and her eyes were hurting from how dry they had gone. She held her pillow tight against her chest to try to calm that ache that spread with each thump but it doesn't dull. It doesn't and it never will.

"Robin?"

"Hm?"

"Check the articles I sent you."

Her heart dropped. Whenever Sunday called her to say that it's almost never good news. She hung up immediately, clicking onto the article in the link he sent and she felt everything just come to a halt.

Robin spotted on the streets with a woman?

Robin coming out as a LESBIAN?

Idol Robin seen holding hands with a WOMAN!

Her phone hit the ground, clattering as she ran to the bathroom. She felt the sickening churn of her stomach as she knelt over the toilet bowl. Her own vision began to blur, the corners going white. Her worst nightmare was happening and it's happening in real time.

"Baby?"

You rush up to her side, panic filling you as you kneel down next to her. You take in the tears in her eyes, the paleness of her face and how she could barely breathe.

"I can't-"

"What's wrong?"

"Stay with me."

You write her a long letter, and you never had the courage to give it to her until weeks after she ended things with you. You blanked out as you were writing, and you weren't even sure if you were making sense as you wrote out what you were feeling. It was a series of emotions, incoherent words stuck together, held together by your anger, your despair. You want her to read it but you also want her to never contact you about it, ever.

You had finally pieced together why she ended things one day after you opened social media to find a post about Robin. You felt your own throat close up as you read the post. Beloved Robin is a lesbian? Fans enraged, netizens demand-

You threw your phone across the room, not caring about the damage you had done (though you did deeply regret it after). You felt your breathing get more and more ragged. She couldn't even talk to you about it. She didn't even come out with the truth about what happened because if she had just talked to you, you would've understood, goddammit. Instead she lied, she lied and she pretends and she smiles for the camera.

It's unclear what hurts more- her lie or the promise she broke. She swore to love you even if everyone was against her yet in her core, she is an idol. In her core, she is not willing to jeopardise her relationship for anything. You never should've believed her in the first place and fuck, you were foolish for believing her.

She smiles for the camera every day, she sings her songs and she greets the crowds with her award winning, bright and cheerful smile. She addresses the rumours and that's what kills you.

Regarding the rumours about your sexuality, what do you have to say to that?

I would like to clarify that those rumours are false- I am not queer or part of the LGBTQ+ community. The person in the images that have been circulating around is just a good friend of mine- a friend since childhood. I never liked to openly talk about my sexuality but I do not think my sexuality should be a topic discussed so openly. What I do in my private life should be kept to me and my loved ones.

Bullshit.

Robin had told you in secrecy, she doesn't like men. She doesn't and she never has been interested in men. You wouldn't betray her trust and out her of course but fuck it hurt to see her do the exact thing she promised you she would never do.

It hurt so much.

-

Dear Robin,

I don't know how to start this letter, I don't know how to write exactly what it is I feel and what it is I want to even say but there is so much I never conveyed to you that night that I feel like I want you to know before we part ways forever.

You were the first girl I truly loved, and I hope you know that. I know you will move on one day, and I hope when you move on you are more confident in yourself. I hope you have the guts to fucking keep your promise you told me with your future girlfriend and that you don't hurt them like you hurt me. Did you have to be such a coward? Did you have to lie to me about not loving me anymore? If you had just told me the truth it would've hurt less- yet you break two promises with this act of yours. Is it that important for you to maintain this image? Is it worth losing what we had and the future we were planning to build together?

All I have left is the remains of what you promised me and the remains of myself I have to pick up because of how you've left me. I can't walk down the stairs without thinking about that time you were waiting for me there with my favourite flowers. I can't walk into the kitchen without thinking about the day you surprised me by cooking breakfast for me on my birthday despite your busy schedule. I will hurt forever, and I will stay hurt for god knows how long.

A part of me will always be changed, and you will always be a part of me because I myself am an amalgamation of our love and of you now. My sense of self is also tied to you, my sense of identity is engrained to you and I despise that. I despise how a part of me is forever shaped by you. I want to lose every part of you forever because I love you so much. I love you so much and it hurts to know that you will still be a part of me but you will never be with me again. I've never asked much of you, and I don't think I am a selfish person but please just let me be selfish for once- I just want to keep your love, I want to keep you.

i just want you to be proud of who you are. I want you to not have to hide in shame and I hope you stop hiding one day because I know it hurts you too.

Signed,

Yours truly

-

Dearest,

You will probably never see this letter, and I may just burn this after I write it.

You were my first love too. I never opened myself up to anyone but you caught me with open arms. I never thought I would be so heads over heels for you but the more I got to know you the deeper in love I fell. I knew it was a risk to ask you out and I took that risk because I love you. I want you to be in my life forever but I also want you to know that I'm scared.

I know it's not fair of me to ask you to understand, but I just want to protect you from the media. Selfishly, I put myself first. Selfishly, I couldn't let myself love you because I was scared of what would happen if the media truly found out about you.

I love you, I still do. I wake up every day wishing you were by my side but I need to learn the fact that I had let you go. I had let you go for my own sake and I regret it, I really do. But I don't think it's right for me to come back, to come begging.

I don't think I can love someone as well as I loved you. I think the way I love in the future will forever be influenced by you too.

I will try to be braver for you, I hope you see me on the screens one day and remember us, and how you are the reason why I shine brighter than the stars of the Penacony nights.

I love you, forever and always.

Signed,

Robin.

-

"What can I get for you today-"

You feel your heart come to a stop when you see the customer that stands in front of you. You recognised those eyes from anywhere, even if it had been years. You had moved to a new city, gotten a new job at a new cafe. And here she stands, no disguise, nothing. Her eyes widen too, jaw dropping slightly. You feel your heart sink when you notice the shorter girl that stands next to her.

The girl that holds her hand tight.

"I'll have a hot chocolate!"

The girl with silvery-blonde hair smiles brightly, her eyes were this beautiful mix of ocean blue and pink that you found yourself getting lost in. Her eyes reflect nothing but kindness, Robin's eyes reflect nothing but pain.

"I'll have a flat white."

Robin's voice is quiet, slightly strained. You just nod, swallowing back the lump in your throat as you click a few buttons on the screen.

"Cash or card?"

"Card, please."

You take a deep breath in, trying to steady your voice.

"Can I have a name?"

Robin swallows.

"Robin."

"Great-" You try to stop your voice from cracking "I'll have your drinks up soon, Ms. Robin."

You turn around quickly. You had to do something else- going to work on the drinks because you could feel the tears threatening to spill. You distract yourself with the loud sounds of the milk frother, the sounds of coffee being dispensed. You take another deep breath in, hands clutching at the countertops as you try to steady yourself and to stop the tears from falling. You reach up, dabbing away at the tears quickly before heading back to work. You pour the drinks into the cup, putting the lids on before ringing up the pair. To your dismay, Robin comes up instead. You notice how her eyes drift down to the sides of the cup, face falling slightly when she notices that the sides of the cups are empty. No names, no doodles, nothing.

"Thank you."

Her voice cracks slightly as she takes the cup. You finally bring your gaze up, making eye contact for the first time in years and you feel your heart clench as you let out an choked gasp. You see the tears that form in her eyes, the tears that mirrors yours.

Please, say something.

"Have a good day."

Pause.

Anything.

"You too."

And she turns around, like a stranger resuming their day- your moments in history, pushed back into the past.

[myymi]

i want to talk about the paradox prism for a minute because it's really interesting to me

[everything below is purely speculation / headcanon - please don't mistake it for canon. beware of spoilers for sonic prime part 3]

similar to the master/chaos emeralds, the paradox prism has a level a sentience. not anywhere close to the same level as the emeralds, but there's still something there

the chaos emeralds tend to set up a line of dominos to cause a future event (ex; sonic taking tails under his wing and learning to become more responsible from it)

the paradox prism doesn't do anything close to that, but it does share something with the master emerald; it holds memories

the prism was able to create more versions of the people it saw based on the emotions it saw them project (tails, knuckles, amy, rouge, and eggman)

the different shards / shatterspaces are made up from other major events. whether from this timeline or another is different for each shatterspace

new yoke was created from the group's frustration with sonic + an ending where eggman's almost won (i believe this could be pulled from the events of forces, considering the enforcers)

i think the reason new yoke is the only shatterspace to have a version of eggman is because it's the only one that makes sense to have one

it's pretty well known by now that eggman will need a helping hand if he wants any chance at taking over the world

the only thing better than an evil genius is five evil geniuses, right?

the new yoke group are, as i said, everyone's frustration

nine is frustrated with his past. reminiscing about his tormentors brings him more anger than pain, and living in solitude definitely does not help

rebel and knux are frustrated by the loss of their home (and the egg council in general). having watched their home be destroyed was more heartbreaking than anything at first, it eventually grew to an anger that spurred them on to fix it

rusty is frustrated with those who disobey/fight against the council, but her anger eventually ends up directed towards the council for the way they used her.

i could go more in depth about the new yoke group, but this post is gonna be long enough as is wefoefwof

the shard being red could simply be because that's the color that represents anger, but i'd like to think that-going back to forces-it was a bit influenced by the phantom ruby/infinite as well

no place is formed by the underlying sadness + a devastating event that permanently changed the world (chaos' rampage)

im not connecting no place to chaos because of the fact it's flooded, im connecting it because of the way the stories parallelled

chaos' rampage begun when pachacamac attempted to steal and harness the power of the chaos emeralds for his own gain

dread seeks out the 'devil's ligthouse' solely to prove he is a legend, nearly killing his original crew trying to do so

both protagonists of these stories are selfish and caused destruction for their own gain

dread's, well, dread comes from his failure of proving himself to be the most feared pirate to ever live.

him failing to collect the shard caused him to believe that he truly wasn't a good pirate, leaving him to spiral into a life of cowardice.

the rest of the pirates' dread comes from their longing to be actual pirates.

because of his failure and cowardice, dread now leads a peaceful crew. they don't do any 'pirating', which leaves much to be desired

they enjoy the parties and all, but their true fun comes from being pirates, which dread deprives them of

boscage maze comes from the protectiveness surging between everyone + a world where harmony between enemies is possible to achieve (possibly comes from a timeline where eggman simply doesnt exist, leaving mobius to grow peacefully)

boscage is the shatterspace with the most life. it's full of all kinds of plants because nobody there is destroying it (intentionally, anyways)

thorn rose is protective over birdie and the green. she does what she can to protect both, even if it means hurting people she once called friends

keeping the jungle and birdie safe is her #1 priority, and nothing will ever change that (that's not to say something else can't join them in being her priority)

the scavengers are protective over their belongings and, no matter how strangely they show it, each other

gnarly was nervous when sonic touched his house, immediately turning aggressive to make sure he wouldn't damage it

instead of hiding the berry, prim showed it to the others for a chance they could all share it

instead of running off on his own, mangey let the scavengers follow him as he sniffed out the berry (+ him fetching the one that fell off the treetops, showing it off to the group)

hangry allows mangey to crawl around him, which we can assume means it happens a lot off screen as well

they stick together and cover each other's backs, no matter how hard the fight gets

while we don't know what this shatterspace was before it turned into the grim, it's pretty safe to assume that it was apocalyptic

who or whatever used to live here is long gone. the only thing standing are the purple crystal things.

my guess is it's a timeline where eggman won. he won, and the world died out because he ruined the ecosystem from building so many machines.

while purple is usually associated with royalty or mystery, it's also associated with power, ambition, peace, and independence

whatever happened to the world before the grim, it's very probable that it was out of high ambition with a need for more power. eventually, the world found its peace and is now independent

ghost hill is the blueprint. the time before sonic & co. make their mark on the world. a blank canvas.

maybe a timeline where they don't get a chance to make their mark on the world

yellow is a very light, energetic color. the feeling of happiness at the chance to create something new and fun.

ghost hill and the grim don't have much in terms of characters and design, but i think the colors of their respective shards give us plenty of information about them

the paradox prism is nothing like the chaos emeralds, but is also just like them at the same time. it's powered by pure chaos with no sort of indication on how it was created or why it has the powers it does

i wonder if eggman knew what the prism was exactly or if he only knew that it was powerful

did he know breaking it would cause the world to shatter? did he know how may memories it holds? how many lifetimes it's lived?

i also wonder if the prism knew sonic would shatter it, and that it was already preparing the shatterspaces; hence why it glows brighter

maybe it understood that sonic is a hands-on learner. maybe it knew he needed to experience the lessons first hand, needed them to-quite literally-slap him in the face

maybe it knew they all had their own flaws that they needed to be aware of. maybe it lived through the timeline where sonic never shattered the prism.

maybe the prism planned to be shattered by someone so it could share its memories. maybe there was some sort of pull that told sonic it needed to be shattered.

[chaifootsteps]

tbh one thing i liked about the instas that i dont think the series will bring back is him wearing casual clothes outside of work. the concept of a gay male sinner from the 1940s embracing modern day fashion from the current era because of how cute it is without anyone caring because its hell, (with the implication he mightve been doing this for decades beforehand before he came to the hotel,) is just really cool concept to me :3 it gave him a fashion identity outside of his sex work (something the show really doesnt do at all,) and it let him explore a more cutesty side to his character, but in a really natural way! i also just liked it because most of the sinners we saw tended to stick to dressing from their era, which made angel stand out more.

but this isnt present at all in the series, and even weirder, the one time he has a chance to put on pajamas in episode 2 like the girls have, where hes alone in his room with fat nuggets, he doesnt. maybe we wouldve had time for that if there wasn't a joke dedicated to showing how tone deaf and christian charlies morals are for the bisexual daughter of lucifer morningstar.

all the clothes he wears, there's more of a focus of his outfits from posion rather then anywhere else. i hardly see as much fanart of that stupid ugly ripped finale suit, as much as i see fanart of the latex suit angel wears while singing about being unable to help swallowing poison. either that, or the outfit he wears while dancing with val. love the fluffy spider butt, but cmon. we can get an angel dust design thats more spider in a natural way, but we can't see him wear casual clothes when he isnt working? or even see him in a full suit? (i really miss the purple suit from the instas, no stupid pink stripes, full suit for both arms, and his boobs were out w his tie instead of being hidden away like they are in the finale, which was perfect for his character </3)

him wearing clothes separate to his identity as a pornstar also helped him reclaim some of his freedom under his contract, obviously being unable to choose what val makes him wear on set. that's what angel dusts actions reflected in the instas and the comics too. (the "work shit" box comes to mind, i hate that borderline on screen rape is fine for an amazon funded show, but a box of dildos is too much,) even the addict mv shows this, with angel wearing just a pink sweater and some purple shorts when laying with cherri. or even just the casual, but cute outfit he wears when he blows up that club with her.

its just one of the few things that made him feel human, especially when fashion is bound to change in so many ways when youve been in hell for 77 years like he has. this part of his character being missing (along with the implication he even has a life outside of his work in the series; pilot ad was coping with work with hard drugs, being an teasing asshole as a defensive mechanism, getting into turf wars and murdering mafia goons. but still dresses cute and gets to be cute w his friends in his own time! series ad is coping by self destructing and letting people drug and fuck him so he'll be "broken" but then gets better by going out once after being waterboarded at work, only to not relax and be a mom to a joke character at a club called fucking consent,) is one of the reasons im still bitter about the instas being nuked. but not the only reason.

viv will always takes the credit for them anyway, no matter if she feels they do or not, because her fanbase isn't smart enough to realize someone else wrote these stories they still love. even if theyll be the first one to remind you they arent canon, because the creator said they arent. but my honest to god confession is that sometimes the instagrams feel more like the canon hazbin hotel to me, even months after s1 dropped, simply due to the nuance and detail it has compared to the actual series. it wasnt perfect, but you could tell there was passion there- passion that now, only the leads are allowed to put in hazbin so their favorite character can get more screentime and attention.

Thank you, Anon, for this absolutely beautiful writeup. It was true, seeing the difference between the outfits Val forced him into versus the outfits he chose to wear on his own time was one of the most interesting aspects of Instagram Angel Dust. It was a more safe-for-work extension of the "work shit" dildoes that didn't make it to Amazon Prime (while his graphic on-screen gang rape did) and it was powerful.

Of course, there are practical logistical reasons why cartoon characters wear the same outfit, but if only one character in HH was going to have a big wardrobe, it absolutely should have been Angel. But of course it wasn't, because as far as Viv and Raph were concerned, the only Angel outfits that mattered were the ones that fed into their shared fetish.

[nocturnowlette]

people keep telling me im just like a puppy and treating me like one even though ive been very certain for a while im not like one. just cause im easy to trance and very obedient, it doesnt make me a puppy!!!!

....is what i thought until i watched your video. now i'm not so sure. because wow, that felt nice. and.... i'm having another. um. look at the idea now

Aww, pup, I'm really happy you enjoyed. Whether you are a puppy or not is ultimately up to you; it's a self-chosen identity, and I'd never want to pressure someone to be one unnecessarily.

However, someone being like a puppy is a bit more objective. Puppies aren't just obedient, they're obedient because they want to please someone. They're excitable, a little dumb, can be lead anywhere by the metaphorical leash of those they trust. They love making little sounds and often can't hold those sounds in when they get really really happy!

You might be like a puppy, and that might make you want to be a puppy, but that's a decision you'll need to make for yourself! ^w^