#brainrotting in real time folks

[godlygivenanxiety]

you ever..... u ever listen to If You Like It Or Not on repeat for hours while banging the back of ur head against the wall bc—

—Hoffstrahm

[kasieli]

I just really want them to be happy fr

[curiosityjams]

my future when it comes to still being Active on social media is teebeedee, but my main resolution for 2024 is like...be comfortable w/ being completely offline even if it's just for a day or a week.

[cat-of-starlight]

Well I've been lurking on the edge of this game long enough, I better draw something so uhh-

Have a Daniil sketch!!

Alt version w/ injuries under the cut

Its Pathologic, you know how it is-

[inevitablemoment]

A penny for my thoughts? Oh no, I sell ‘em for a dollar They’re worth so much more after I’m a goner And maybe then, you’ll hear the words I’ve been singin’ Funny when you’re dead, how people start listenin’

[insp]

[torao-is-law]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THATS THE LATEST RELEASED EPISODE

[fettuccin-e]

Honey-Sweet

Description: You're far too sweet for him. He's determined not to ruin you, despite the fact that he seems to ruin everything, and everything about you just seems to make his fantasies worse. But one night can change everything, apparently, when Miguel finally sees how completely not sweet you can be.

Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, hoooh boy a lotta smut okay, oral (m and f recieving), unprotected piv (pls oh pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids), riding, doggy, missionary, some fluff bc i'm not completely deranged, light degradation (w/c: 2.1K)

A/N: oh lord the Miguel brainrot is REAL folks okay this is fucking crazy. I WANT THIS MAN TO **** ** **** * ****** ******* okay he has me fuckin frothing at the DAMN MOUTH actin like a DAMN DOG okay so please enjoy a bit of a miguel smutfest

You’re too fucking sweet for him. That’s what he tells himself. Miguel O’Hara doesn’t do sweet.

You’re fucking sweet with the way you bring cookies in for the other Spiders that accompany you on missions. You’re sweet in how you brought in a ridiculous hand-made baby blanket for Mayday when Peter first brought her in, emblazoned with his Spider-Man logo to wrap her up tight in. You’d kissed the baby on the head, whispering tiny sweet nothings into her bright red hair, and Miguel had had to hide the emergence of his fangs at the sight of it.

You’re too sweet, too kind for him. You organize little movie nights at the office, you make him stay a little longer on missions so you can see the tourist spots from different universes. And the way you look at him, all wide-eyed and bright and smiling… it does things to him.

It makes him want to bring you flowers, kiss you on the cheek. It makes him want to plan fucking candle-lit dinners and bake cupcakes with you. All sweet, too sweet.

But, because he apparently can’t stop himself, you also want to make him do decidedly not sweet things. Like grab at your tits through your suit, pinching your nipples until your knees go weak and you whimper his name in your gorgeous little voice. Like force you down on your knees, fucking his cock into your hot mouth while tears leak down your cheeks. Like tying you up with his webs, eating your pretty cunt out while you struggle against them, whining that “it’s too much, too much Miguel.” Like fucking you deep, so fucking deep on his cock, making you squeeze around him while you scream for him, beg for him to fill you up with cum. He thinks about watching it leak out of your achy pussy, dripping down your thighs.

But you’re so goddamn sweet, too gorgeous and lovely, and he can’t ruin you, he can’t. 

So when you finally wear him down, finally get him to go to coffee with you, he tries to be just as sweet as you. You hold his fucking hand, you kiss him on the cheek. You smile into his mouth as his lips meet yours in front of your apartment door. Miguel swears that his heart will pop with how much it swells when you’re near him.

He brings you flowers, walks you to your door, brings you lunch while you’re filing post-mission paperwork. And God, it’s beautiful. It’s fantastic and bright and so wonderfully domestic that Miguel wonders if he’s died, gone to some heaven he doesn’t deserve. He’s determined to revel in the domesticity of this… thing he’s created with you, his disgusting fantasies be damned.

He doesn’t like to think about how he has to fuck his hand after he drops you off at your house, his lips still burning with the touch of your soft, soft kiss. He thinks about how your lips would look stretched around his dick.

He’s content. He’s happy. For the first time in so fucking long, he’s happy. And he’ll happily tug on his dick by himself for the rest of damn time if it means that he gets to revel in your soft, pretty, wonderful sweetness for a little bit longer. He will not ruin you.

But.

As he kisses you softly in front of your apartment, the both of you still suited up from your latest mission, you tug him closer. You pull him down into your hungry mouth, and you lick into him like you’re starving for it. He can’t help how he growls at the feeling of it, his big hands coming to clutch at your hips. God, you’re pretty, fucking addicting with the way your tongue tangles with his and how you whimper when his hands cup your ass, tugging you up just that extra inch.

“Take me to bed, Miguel,” you gasp between feverish kisses, and fuck, he’s gone.

He hauls you into his arms, and his knees almost go weak at the way you wrap your thighs tightly around his middle, the way you lick into his mouth all over again.

And Miguel has spent so much time in his head, thinking, no, knowing that you’re sweeter than goddamn pie. It’s in every fucking breath you take, every moment he spends with you. 

But that night, as he lays you onto the bed, gently, gently like you deserve, he learns that you’re not as sweet as he thinks you are.

Not at all.

Not with the way you roll him over with your strength, begging for him to disengage his suit, looking at him like you want to devour him as it dissolves around him, leaving him bare to your gaze. You graze a reverent hand up his chest as he heaves under you, whispering, “God, can’t believe I’ve waited this long to have you like this. You’re so pretty, Miguel.” 

Pretty. Pretty? He can’t be the pretty one, no, not when you’re unzipping your own suit, and he can see everything. Every inch of supple, soft skin. Your nipples, hard and peaked and begging for his touch. Your pretty, pretty pussy; he can see how you’re practically dripping, the wetness between your legs glistening in the soft lamplight.

And you’re not sweet, not sweet at all, when you nip and suck little marks down his chest and abs, grinning up at him like a damn siren when he gasps at your touch. Fuck, you’re the opposite of everything he thought when you take his cock into your mouth, bobbing deeper, deeper until you just can’t anymore, jacking the rest of his cock while you kiss and lick and suck at him.

You grab his hand with your free one, and pull it into your hair. You pull up from his cock, and Christ, there’s a line of your spit that connects you to his throbbing tip, and Miguel thinks that he might die. 

“Fuck my face, baby?” you rasp, and yes, that’s it, Miguel is going to fucking die here. But he can’t refuse you, with those gorgeous eyes gazing up at him, the tip of his cock on your tongue. 

It’s not sweet, not at all, when he forces your head down on his cock, pressing himself deep into your pretty little mouth. And you moan like you love it, just taking it as he thrusts roughly into your mouth. Your spit runs down his shaft, your little whimpers and the way you choke when the tip jams into the back of your throat all echoing in his ears. 

He can’t hear himself, but God, you can. You relish the way he growls every time he pushes you down deep, telling you that, “You’re such a good girl, hermosa. Mierda, mi nena perfecta.” Your pussy throbs.

He isn’t soft, isn’t gentle like he told himself to be when he pulls you off his cock. You gasp for air, and Miguel groans as he pulls you up by your hair, dragging your spit-slick lips to his mouth. He can taste himself on your lips, all sticky and hot and puffy. 

You whine against his mouth, murmuring little pleas of “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” into him, and his cock twitches, red and aching desperately for your touch. 

“Have to make sure you’re ready,” he mumbles, even though he aches, even though his claws threaten to show. 

“Nononono,” you whine, and then you sit back, hovering over his cock, fucking monstrous compared to the tiny opening of your dripping pussy, and press down.

Fuck, it’s like heaven inside you, all perfect and wet and hot, and you whine, muttering that, “It’s so fucking big, God, stretches me so perfect, so fucking perfect, so much bigger than I could have dreamed-“

“Nena,” he interrupts you with a hoarse groan of his own, “gotta stop, ‘s gonna, gonna hurt you, oh fuck-“ 

And you grin at him again, filthy and raunchy and not sweet at all, as you say “I fucking want it to hurt, Miguel. Wanna feel you in the morning, wanna feel you all the time.” And you press yourself the rest of the way down his thick cock, gasping for air, your hips twitching like they can’t decide whether to run away from the sensation or seek it. 

“Fuck, wanna feel you all the time,” you murmur and Miguel can’t decide whether you’re actually talking to him or not. “Want you to fuck me so hard I can’t breathe, fill me up so fucking perfect, God, oh my God, ‘m so fucking full,” you roll your hips forward in desperate little circles, a weak attempt at getting him deeper. An endless stream of “fuck me, fuck me, please please please,” starts to leave your lips again, and you sound so desperate, so needy, that Miguel can’t help but roll you over, pinning you underneath him, and fucking his cock so hard and so deep into you that you dig your fingers into his back and sob.

He does what you ask that night. He fucks you and fucks you and fucks you, until tears leak from your eyes and your bed is soaked with a mixture of yours and his cum. And God, you scream for him, begging him for more, deeper, harder.

The slick sounds of your bodies meeting over and over must be heard all over the building, but Miguel can’t bring himself to care, not when he’s able to fuck you like this, disgusting and filthy.

How could a sweet, lovely, soft thing like you love this so much?

From that night on, it seems that all bets are off. From that night on, it seems that you make it a mission to show him exactly how not sweet you are.

Fuck, there’s no sweetness to you when you hump your hips into his face the next morning, practically smothering him in your pussy as you squeal and tangle your fingers in his hair. He digs his fingers so hard into your thighs that he’s sure they’ll bruise, and licks up your juices. Your pussy is honey-sweet on his tongue.

You’re not soft when you ride him into the mattress, throwing yourself down onto his cock and moaning as you stretch yourself out. You drag your nails down his chest as you bounce desperately in his lap, and Miguel kind of hopes you draw blood.

There isn’t an ounce of innocence when you sink down on your knees under his desk when he’s in a goddamn meeting, pulling his cock out and sucking at him until his claws shoot out and leave splintering holes in his desk. He has to hide his fangs from the video camera when you choke. 

When he finally, finally cuts the meeting short, feeding the other Spider-Men some bullshit excuse about a new anomaly, he presses your head to the base of his cock and shoots his cum down your throat. He means it as a punishment, but when he pulls you off his cock, and sees you with your eyes all glassy and smiling lazily, he can’t help but bend you over the desk and finger fuck you until you cry and scream and beg for him to fuck you with his cock.

You are so far from sweet when he fucks you on the floor after a mission, tensions run too taut and adrenaline racing through your veins. You throw your ass back onto him with every thrust into your sloppy cunt, moaning as he growls, “Such a fucking slut, can’t get enough of this cock, huh? My sweet, sweet girl, what would the rest of the Spiders say if they knew what a fucking whore you are for me?” 

And when you choke on your spit around your screams, he leans down to whisper that, “I know, cariño, I know. I'm gonna take care of you,” before he shoves your face down into the carpet and mounts you, shoving his fat cock down into you again and again and again.

Miguel is positive that he’s died and gone to heaven.

It’s not to say that you’re not the same, sweet girl who brings cookies to the office and holds his hand. No, you’re the same, perfect, sweet girl, only that you let him thank you for the cookies by eating you out on the kitchen floor. You hold his hand while you jerk his cock and swallow his moans with your kiss.

You’re just the right kind of sweet for him.

[moomine]

backwash | daisuke

author's note: part one of a future series... the mouthwashing brainrot is real... if you want to be part of a taglist for future updates feel free to reply or dm me! (cover image credit)

summary: (daisuke x f!reader) The first day on the Tulpar is short as the reader and the rest of the crew adjust to their new day-to-day life in space. While settling in, she gravitates to Daisuke, the ship's impromptu intern, during a brief but meaningful encounter

word count: 1,153

warnings: no trigger warnings! all characters are 18+

now playing: Mook - "Malmo"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

EMPLOYEE STATEMENT 001—

My mom wasn’t happy I accepted this job. She knows —like all of us do— that space transit is a dying market. She said: “It’s all automated now. People don’t belong out there anyway.” And yet, Pony Express is still afloat, despite it all. Why did I want to go? I don’t really know. This is all I seem to understand. I mean, what the hell else am I supposed to do with this degree? With my piloting certification? This has been my dream my entire life. If you can tell me that there’s anything better, then, please, let me know. I know I’m under contract now, and there’s no backing out. I don’t plan on it. This is what I love, isn’t it?

DAY ONE—

You would never forget the feeling of the Tulpar taking off. The shaking. The back and forth of force and resistance rocking the old ship as it exited Earth’s atmosphere, launching itself into space. It was similar to riding a rollercoaster. The build up in your torso as your stomach seemed to rise, lifting up and up until it felt like it was bulging at the base of your throat. Then it fell deep into your belly, as if trying to push itself out of your body all together, tipping over the peak of a tall slope. After a moment of nausea, there was nothing. A staggering stillness as the ship settled within the embrace of zero gravity. The persistent rocking ceased. The whining of metal warping hushed to a whisper, and then into a chilling silence. The adrenaline which had built up blended with something else. Something almost euphoric.

The cockpit was a sickly green, illuminated by the various nearby screens that signaled the take-off was a success. Under the tight grip of your seat belt, you shifted in your chair, attempting to loosen the rough fabric fastens.

Captain Curly leaned into the microphone and spoke over the intercom: “All right, folks. Thank you for flying with Pony Express,” he laughed at his own joke. “You’re free to walk around and get yourself acquainted with our lovely ship. Afterall, she’ll be housing us for another three hundred eighty one days. Let’s make this haul a good one. Cheers.”

He looked over his shoulder from where he sat, a proud smile gracing his lips. It was an almost cocky expression. He appeared proud of himself, maybe even happy to get to show off in front of a new pilot.

“How was that?” Curly asked in your direction.

“Incredible,” you said breathlessly. Your eyes were still wide from the excitement.

The pilot let out a low belly laugh. His smile stretched from ear to ear. “Always happy to please.” He turned to his co-pilot, Jimmy, whose face was almost as green as the screens that surrounded you. “How about you, Jim? Doing okay?”

“Never better,” Jimmy croaked, his eyes closed as he focused on not being sick.

Curly’s smile transformed into a smirk. A rough, friendly hand landed on Jimmy’s shoulder as Curly gave it a good squeeze.

“Still acting like a first time flier,” Curly teased him, eyes flicking back to you. “Go ahead and get settled in. Make some friends. All of that good stuff. Tomorrow the real work begins.”

“Right. Thank you.” You nodded in response. There was a quiet click as you unfastened your seatbelt and stood up straight. Your legs swayed beneath you, still adjusting to the feeling of being upright again.

The walk to the sleeping quarters from the cockpit was a short one. As you ventured down the hall —drawn deeper within the belly of the Tulpar by the sound of distant conversation— the rib-like pipes groaned as if greeting you. The door opened with a low hiss, revealing a short hallway with two rooms on either side and one at the end of the hall. In comparison to the cold, metallic halls from room to room, the sleeping quarters were a warm and welcoming sight. Out-dated wood paneling stretched up the walls, the floor a tacky linoleum in a similar tone. Inside of that tiny hallway, you started to forget you were on the ship at all.

“Listen, kid.” You saw an older man, Swansea, standing in a doorway, his north-eastern accent heavy as he spoke. “It’s all right to take it easy today, but tomorrow I’m gonna need you to take this seriously. It won’t be all coloring books and cartoons out here, you understand?”

“You got it, sir! You won’t have to worry about me one bit, I’m pretty self sufficient. Y’know, my friends back home say I’m the best-” Another younger voice spoke from inside of the room before quickly getting cut off.

“I don’t need your life’s story, kid. I just need you to pull your weight,” Swansea said.

You walked down the hall quietly, trying not to disturb the two as they continued back and forth. Each door had a last name displayed on the front, with yours at the very end of the hall. As you passed, Swansea looked over his shoulder at you and offered a small nod of acknowledgement. Just past him, you could see Daisuke who stood in the middle of his room, saying something about how he would do his best.

Daisuke’s gaze shifted from the older man in his doorway to you. Although it was only for a moment, his eyes seemed locked on yours as a soft smile spread on his lips. He stopped what he was saying, and raised a hand to wave at you. A short, but sweet gesture, which you happily returned.

“We’ll see about that,” Swansea spoke up, grabbing Daisuke’s attention once more. “I’m gonna nap until dinner’s ready. Your first task is to leave me the hell alone. Think you can do that?”

“No problemo,” Daisuke responded. He raised his hands into finger guns, shooting two shots at Swansea.

Shaking his head, the older man rolled his eyes while trying to suppress his obvious annoyance. “God, what did I get myself into…”

You entered your room as Swansea entered his, closing your door behind you. The room glowed with soft, yellow light. It was small, and almost clinical, but somehow cozy at the same time. In one corner sat a twin sized bed with a red blanket and golden sheets, and in the other was a mid-century dresser. Your bags and belongings rested in a less than neat pile in the middle of the room, clearly shaken from take off.

The high of your adrenaline had fizzled out significantly. Although you knew it would be wise to finish unpacking, your head felt heavy and your body ached, yearning to lay down for a bit. You kicked off your boots and crawled on top of the scarlet comforter. Before you knew it, you were like old Swansea, napping just before dinner.

[14dayswithyou]

Meowdy Saint! ^^ lolol hello hello o/ hope you are doing good!!

So this masterpiece of a game has been invading my mind with ZERO chill lately which directly translated to me coming up with a TON of questions orz I really didn't realize how many I ended up compiling lol

If you don't feel like answering this many please feel absolutely free to ignore this ask or only answer the ones you like the most, the last thing I want is for you to feel overwhelmed! ^^

ALRIGHT LET'S-A GO

-do Rendacted's memories remain intact when he resets the day or do his wipe too with everyone else's? Also is there an in-universe answer for why he has these glitchy powers or is he just Built Different™?

-if angel made it VERY clear that they would be mad asf and prolly even start hating and leave Ren/[REDACTED] if he were to hurt their friends(or killing people bc this man needs to chill fr), would he listen to them? Bc I know that if he touches Violet, Elanor, Kiara or god forbid Moth I'm personally deleting his kneecaps 🥰

-since it seems to me that Ren/[REDACTED] is only kinda meh at cooking I was wondering if he actually made the not burnt pancakes in day 3 or if he had some store bought ones that he passed off as his own lol

-does he know how to give massages? :00

-during day 1, how did Ren come up with a book on the local flora?? It seems like such a random topic to pick when put on the spot without already having a genuine interest in it lmao

-if I understood correctly Maple should be Jae's dog right?? Did you have a specific breed or age in mind when creating her? I got curious because in my head she automatically popped up as a young australian shepherd to match with Jae's hyperactive dumbass energy lol❀⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝❀

-staying on the dog topic lol, in day 1 when angel gets up from the couch to get Ren the inflatable mattress(iirc) and he follows right behind them i immediately thought he acted like a puppy lmao. So would he mind being called 'puppy' as a pet name?

(I am not sure if this⬇️ questions falls under character deaths, if it does I really apologize and absolutely feel free to ignore it ^^)

-from an ask from last year it seems [REDACTED] would ultimately kill angel if there was ultimately not way to enter in their life?? Gotta say I was very taken aback by this, would this still be the case after a year of building more to his character? (Ok I went back to check the ask again but I can't for the life of me find it anymore maybe I dreamt it up idk😭😭 im really sorry if that is the case jdkslajdl)

-uuhh I know there is already a lot in this ask(im seriously sorry orz), but I was wondering if we will eventually get an SFW alphabet for Ren/[REDACTED] for the folks who don't care about the nasty 👉👈

-THIS IS THE LAST THING I PROMISE 👹 will there be a guide to get all the endings? I'm not sure if there is one already and in that case I missed it 100%

Also I find it ironic how the fandom is trying to find out every single aspect of Ren/[REDACTED]'s character the same way he must do with angel lmao

ALRIGHT THATS ALL IM SO SORRY FOR ASKING SO MUCH THE REN BRAINROT HOURS ARE SO REAL IM LOSING BRAINCELLS orz Remember to take care of yourself drink water and take breaks!! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

(Also sorry if some phrases don't make sense, english isn't my first language as I am 🤌 lolol)

✦゜ANSWERED: Under da cut because this got long >:3

-do Rendacted's memories remain intact when he resets the day or do his wipe too with everyone else's? Also is there an in-universe answer for why he has these glitchy powers or is he just Built Different™? Ren's memories remain intact!! I mean... He remembers each time you get a bad end and sometimes says something different... >:3 There is also an in-universe reason as to why he has his abilities — I won't spoil anything, but his real name (along with River's and one other character) have a reeeeally big tell. But what this tell is is for me to know and you to find out >:3

-if angel made it VERY clear that they would be mad asf and prolly even start hating and leave Ren/[REDACTED] if he were to hurt their friends(or killing people bc this man needs to chill fr), would he listen to them? Bc I know that if he touches Violet, Elanor, Kiara or god forbid Moth I'm personally deleting his kneecaps 🥰 Ren (and by extension [REDACTED]) knows not to harm anyone if he knows you won't like it — and even then — he won't actively show that murderous side of him in the first place. To Angel, Ren is just a timid, normal guy.

-since it seems to me that Ren/[REDACTED] is only kinda meh at cooking I was wondering if he actually made the not burnt pancakes in day 3 or if he had some store bought ones that he passed off as his own lol Ren is actually good at cooking, he's just a bit out of touch since he doesn't normally cook for himself! It's normally microwave meals or takeout for him... ^^; And yes, Ren did burn and burn the pancakes in Day 3 — he was distracted by something on his phone :3

Bonus cut Day 3 content: I took out the scene where Ren started to profusely apologise for burning the pancake because he often had to cook when he was younger. Given the dynamic of his family and the environment he grew up in, Ren didn't have much room to make mistakes ;n; I cut this scene out because I felt bad ksgskd So y'all get to have flustered, happy Ren instead!!

-does he know how to give massages? :00 If that was one of Angel's interests or desires, then sure!! ^^

-during day 1, how did Ren come up with a book on the local flora?? It seems like such a random topic to pick when put on the spot without already having a genuine interest in it lmao Someone else likes flora too, and it sure would be funny if Ren (eventually) starts to mimic certain traits and interests of the person you have the highest affinity/relationship points with in order to make himself look more appealing… >:3c

-if I understood correctly Maple should be Jae's dog right?? Did you have a specific breed or age in mind when creating her? I got curious because in my head she automatically popped up as a young australian shepherd to match with Jae's hyperactive dumbass energy lol❀⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝❀ It was mentioned in Jae's lore post (I'll link it here once I find it), but Maple is a Labrador! (Leon would be Jae's Australian Shepherd hehe) In my mind, Maple is only 2 or 3 years old, but that wouldn't really fit the official timeframe... ^^; Jae adopted Maple during high school so he wouldn't feel lonely at home, and it's been over 6+ years since then.... hgdshjg

-staying on the dog topic lol, in day 1 when angel gets up from the couch to get Ren the inflatable mattress(iirc) and he follows right behind them i immediately thought he acted like a puppy lmao. So would he mind being called 'puppy' as a pet name? Angel affectionately calls Ren a puppy during the scene in Day 1 where they meet up after work, so that nickname definitely could work!

-from an ask from last year it seems [REDACTED] would ultimately kill angel if there was ultimately not way to enter in their life?? Gotta say I was very taken aback by this, would this still be the case after a year of building more to his character? (Ok I went back to check the ask again but I can't for the life of me find it anymore maybe I dreamt it up idk😭😭 im really sorry if that is the case jdkslajdl) aaa I think you might be mistaking that ask for something else? ;v; [REDACTED] would NEVER harm Angel in any capacity, and they're a very patient person. Even if it took decades for Angel to fall in love with him, they'll wait.

-uuhh I know there is already a lot in this ask(im seriously sorry orz), but I was wondering if we will eventually get an SFW alphabet for Ren/[REDACTED] for the folks who don't care about the nasty 👉👈 You're fine!! And I'm open to doing that! I'll add it to my list hehe

-THIS IS THE LAST THING I PROMISE 👹 will there be a guide to get all the endings? I'm not sure if there is one already and in that case I missed it 100% I've shared a spreadsheet that lists all the available choices, the points you earn from each of them, and the endings you can get — however it's only available on Discord and I don't really want to share it outside of the server and potentially put it in the hands of minors. Sorry!!

Also I find it ironic how the fandom is trying to find out every single aspect of Ren/[REDACTED]'s character the same way he must do with angel lmao Hehe >:3 There's a loooot of lore that won't ever be mentioned in the game (since it doesn't seem fitting/I don't see a reason to), so I'm happy to provide it here!

[bardic-inspo]

The more I play Veilguard the less I like it 🥲

It's not as easy to notice on an initial run, but for most of the conversations on this second round, I realized it's very rare for the dialogue wheel to cause any change in the responses you get. Most of the time, the other characters don't even react as if you've said something at all.

Gonna have to call it real early on this second run cause it's just not for me. They've gutted my boy (Dragon Age).

And I've never been much of a hater before but I feel like one now because this series has been with me longer than my husband has. Over a decade of loving and theorizing and brainrotting. I gotta find a way to make my peace with it and the criticizing feels. Cathartic.

I'm truly happy for the folks that are happy with this game. I wish I could feel that way, too.

BG3 was, in some senses, a spiritual successor to DA:O to me, while also being its own thing. And that game was flawed for sure! But I look at Veilguard and just think....we deserve better. After 10 years, we deserve better. Better is out there and Bioware isn't making it anymore.

I might run back to BG3 and finish my Durge run finally. Or finally give Witcher 3 a real run. Or finally play DoS2.

[mjsparkour]

I’m just a girl that can’t stop talking about paulirulan fail marriage whatever. sorry. sue me.

Today’s random paulirulan brainrot induced psychosis has brought this idea of the perfect person for Irulan to the forefront of my mind. What I find to be so fascinating is the fact that if you were to put Paul on paper to Irulan he is kind of more than her ideal man, like soulmate territory, seriously. I don’t mean this in a made for each other stereotypical romantic kinda of way because that can’t be helped (this is a FAIL marriage). Also they’re both, you know, products of eugenics.

I say this simply because of the fact that Paul is the Kwisatz Haderach and can see through the fabric of time and space. He can look into the past just as much into the future and see whatever he needs. Irulan as a historian would become rightfully obsessed with someone that possessed that type of ability. Which is why I think it’s safe to say even though she came to terms with her love for him I really do feel like part of the reason she dedicates her life to writing Paul’s histories is because (besides it being necessary) she was in proximity with someone that had this extraordinary ability to see into the past in a way she could only ever dream. I feel like this really brings home the tragic aspects of Irulan’s character in a very real way. She doesn’t know how to love or what it truly feels like. Yet you can see why she would come to love Paul, but I don’t know how you would be able to make the case vice versa. What is it about Irulan that Paul would come to love? Her father is the reason for the destruction of House Atriedes, He’s already fallen in love with another woman by the time he meets her, and if we were going by book canon her pride gets in the way of her being a good bene gesserit student so her abilities are subpar. She also poisons Chani so she can’t have kids (something that Paul enables her to do so that Chani can live longer btw since folks like to forget?). This is what makes the movie canon so interesting to me though. Irulan is different in the adaptation.

Irulan has become a good student of the bene gesserit teachings. The former emperor tells her she will be a formidable empress and Paul tells her they will rule over the universe together, it’s all quite different. So while right now I can’t really imagine what it is Paul would come to love about Irulan given the circumstances are different, I think we might be given more insight as to what that would look like (in someway) in this upcoming adaptation of messiah.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

HCs: Spot meeting a Spidey!Reader who takes him seriously as a villain

Been having brainrot for Spot lately and thought that he deserved something nice,,like a Spiderman who’s like “bro my bad guys are boring but you’re really cool” and so this happened-

First time writing him, but hope y'all enjoy!

......

Spot’s first fight with Miles only made him feel like one thing..

A loser. An unworthy opponent. A mere “villain of the week”.

It’s downright humiliating knowing that the Spiderman who (intentionally or not) was the catalyst of the collider accident that turned him into this freak..didn’t seem to take him seriously anymore.

So he goes to hide in another universe for sometime, questioning wtf he’s doing and if anyone in this vast multiverse will see him for what he is--a real villain and a real threat.

Then he overhears on a police officer’s radio chatter that a spider person was several blocks away, stopping a robbery. 

He sees this as his chance to shine and throws on a sloppy disguise.

And he arrives just you have already apprehended the crooks, all four of them webbed up as the store owner shakes your hand, expressing immense gratitude for saving her small business.

“I get it..living’s hard enough around here. I just do what I can to make it easier for folks.” You smile behind your mask.

Then Spot leaps out of hiding, demanding to know where the safe is.

The store owner looks at him, rolling her eyes like “oh boy, another villain for you, kid.”

Immediately, he’s pissed off.

Just “another” villain???

He would have damn near sent this mean lady through a hole and not care where she went had you not intervened.

“Woah, woah, woah...okay..you’re actually the coolest villain I’ve seen yet! I-If that’s what you are. Are you a villain or do you consider yourself one because I don’t wanna be rude-”

He’s thrown off by the questions, and your compliment. He's tripping over his own words.

“Yes. I uh..think so..? Now will you let me rob this store or-?”

“Not a chance, bud.”

And so the fight begins, branching all across the city as webs are swinging and holes are being thrown.

Judging from your voice, you sounded no older than Miles..and yet here you are actually engaging in the fight instead of texting on your phone and brushing off his attacks, not treating him like a nuisance to get rid of.

It genuinely made Spot emotional when you’re throwing hands on the rooftops and he makes you punch yourself in the face..to which you say “WOW that’s pretty amazing ngl”.

He’s glad he can’t really cry anymore but his voice stays high-pitched and wobbly during the rest of the fight and you even pause to say “are you okay, man?”

He just feels so validated here.

Even as you defeat him and web him up for the cops, he escapes back to his dimension, still wanting his revenge.

But from time to time, he’ll return to yours and demand a “rematch”, with you being more than happy to oblige.

[ghostradiodylan]

This past week, those of us in the Quarry Brainrot Discord server got the devastating news that our beloved Moth, @cloudycaffeinatedcryptid, AKA MothWhoCriedWolf, formerly Cinnamon7, friend to many, pillar of the Quarry community, and author of Take Me Back and Back Again passed away unexpectedly in June. Moth's IRL friend, HystericalAnarchy, posted the news on the latest chapter of TMB&BA, but because no one has Moth's AO3 login information currently, they cannot post any sort of official announcement, which makes it easy for folks to miss, and many of us did.

This is such a difficult post to make knowing that it will be the first some people hear of it, and it makes it feel that much more real to me. But the news has made the rounds on Twitter and Discord, and I wanted to make sure it also made its way here, and into the Quarry tag as well, to reach more of their friends and readers who might be out of the loop. I know Moth and their writing has meant so much to so many of us, and really shaped a how a lot of us understand the characters that we all fixate on. They were so kind, so brilliant, so giving of their time and talents and just incredibly funny and fun to talk to. The fandom and the world at large seem a bit dimmer without them in it.

To steal a very cute line from Cas (erzivy on tumblr), Rest in Peas, sweet Moth. I hope you're kicking all manner of ass in your next loop. 💜

[alantern-inthenight]

Designated Driver

blurb, Sam x Danny x Reader

Warnings: HEAVY slash, sexual themes, drinking

A/N: Hello gorgeous folk! I am not normally fic writer, but my Sanny x Reader brainrot and the egregious lack of Sam fics in this fandom has driven me out of my corner and into writing. This is my first ever fanfic, so apologies for middling writing, still getting used to the format.

“Gorgeous! There you are!” Sam exclaims drunkenly from his spot on the couch as you approach. You had (regrettably) offered to DD this party, which resulted in you having to have a sober conversation with an acquaintance from highschool you couldn’t remember the name of.

Your boys, it seems, are having a very different experience.

You found them on Jakes couch, Sam sitting on Danny’s lap relaxed into him and sporting hickies you’re certain weren’t there when you left. Danny wasn’t really one for PDA, especially since Sam and him were still finding their social footing as boyfriends.

Danny’s attention is pulled from his conversation,

“Babyy was wondering where you went. Come join us.” For a moment your feet are glued to the floor, too take by the scene in front of you; Sam so casually layed out on top of Danny, with one of Danny’s arms around his waist and the other casually taking his fingers through Sam’s hair. After a moment you snap back to reality and take a seat next to them, leaning your head on Danny’s shoulder. A closer look shows you both of their eyes are completely glazed over.

“What have you two been up to this whole night? I haven’t seen you once.”

Samm cranes his neck down to plant a kiss on your lips, which lasts a little longer than the quick peck you were expecting. He pulls a little on your bottom lip before breaking away.

“Sorry sweetheart we decided to go shot for shot, but someone got a little drunk and couldn’t keep it in his pants.” Sams sentence capped off in a sing songy tone.

“Not my fault you gave me fuck me eyes in the middle of beer pong.” Danny muttered burying his face into Sam’s shoulder. You give him a reassuring kiss on the check, speaking in his ear,

“Don’t worry baby I understand, our Sammy is such a tease its horrible really.”

All of a sudden Danny whips his face towards you, pulling you into a needy kiss. One of his hands comes up to cup your jaw while the other holds Sam in place as he leans closer to you. He chases your lips, giving you a disappointed look as you pull away.

“Hi Daniel” You let out an affection chuckle. Momentarily your eyes drift over to Sam who’s jaw hangs open. Clearly reveling in the little display.

“Pretty giirl. Forgot we found you, just got excited when I remembered.” He half slurs.

“Okay, you two are fucked up its time to go.” You go to stand, but Danny’s hand immediately pulls you back down.

Sam momentarily comes out of his drunken stupor to whine, “Not yet. I’m not drunk babe I could totally land a plane right now.”

“Yeah I was talking to Jake, can’t leave yet.” At the mention of his name Jake’s attention turns to you three.

“If I don’t have to listen to Sam talk anymore tonight I’m not complaining.” He retorts much to Sam’s offence.

At that, Danny raises his eyebrows, “Oh believe me Sammy is great at shutting up if you give him something else to do with his mouth. ” Your face goes beet red at the statement. Sam on the other hand throws his head back, letting out his signature stoner chuckle. Jake cringes.

“Yep. Gross. Didn’t need to know that about my brother. Leaving now.” With that Jake gets up and heads to the kitchen.

This time you jump of the couch more resolutely.

“Okay time to go for real. Before you say or do anything else that’ll traumatize you tomorrow..”

You pull Sam up, despite Danny’s protests, only for him to immediately fall forward and wrap his arms around your neck. He presses his forehead against yours.

“Did I tell you how gorgeous you look in this dress?” He murmurs.

“Yes Sammy, dozens of times on our way here.”

You feel a second body press up against your back. Danny wraps his arms around your waist.

“Yeah pretty girl, good thing you were hiding this whole party.”

You struggle to think of anything either than the feeling of the boyfriend sandwich you’re in, and all of the drunken affection being sent your way. Especially as Danny starts to press kisses into the back of your neck.

Catching a cackling Josh walk by however pulls you back to reality pretty quickly. You wriggle your way out of their grasp pulling them both by the hand.

“Okay as much as I love you both it is time to go home. I can’t carry either one of your drunk asses to the car so we better quit while we’re ahead.”

Despite their groaning, and lazy make out in then backseat on the drive home, both boys passed out as soon as they got in bed.

———————

“I’m sorry Daniel said what to my brother.” Sams eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head at the breakfast table. Danny had dropped his spoonful of cereal to bury his face into his arms in shame.

“Yeah Sam we can never drink together again.”

[lixiesfreckless]

Die With A Smile | k. sw.

➸ synopsis: with nothing but a stone door between you and not-so-mythical creatures, tension rises and the truth spills out when—or perhaps from whom—you least expect it.

➸ starring: kim sunwoo x reader

➸ word count: 1.3k

➸ general content: fantasy au, royal au, lives in jeopardy and people in peril blah blah blah oh yeah dragons

➸ warnings: if kissing or dragons scare you you're fresh outta luck

➸ rating: teen+

➸ author’s note: (I've been reading this fantasy book for two days and the brainrot got to me :p so when I started a game of frantic fanfic with my girl @ashonheavenscloud you best BELIEVE I subjected her to the madness. thanks for co-writing this with me, angel)

Sunwoo slides the safe room door back into place with a labored yell before collapsing into the stone, brown eyes adjusting to the dimly lit space. You stand a few feet from him, desperately pulling at the bows of your gown.

“So they were real after all,” you heave, pulling at a sash. “The dragons. They’re real.”

Sunwoo nods in astonishment as a ground shaking roar reverberates through the stone wall, sending an excited shiver up your spine. You tear off the outer layer of your dress and almost shriek in anticipation.

“All this time, they told us it was just a folk tale,” Sunwoo whispers, unable to fathom it himself despite having seen it with his own eyes. “And now they’re…terrorizing the castle?”

“Sunwoo, don’t you know what this means?” you whisper eagerly, pushing aside your discarded clothes and glancing around the room, assessing your hideaway. Compact stone walls, lanterns hanging and casting a dim glow on Sunwoo's face as he glances at you with an incredulous expression.

"Uh, yeah, that we're going to be burned to bits of charcoal?"

"The prophecy, you dimwit." You sigh. The boy refutes with his own exasperated breath.

"You really believe defeating these things can put an end to the gem wars and unite this pile of rubble we call a kingdom?” He jokes bitterly, checking his face for any more cuts. “I think we’d get our asses handed to us if we even tried.”

“Right, but if they told us that dragons and all of the fables and tales were a lie, then I can only guess what else might be true.”

Your hands slip behind you to your corset, reaching for the strings in an attempt to untie it.

“At this point, anything goes. And that means that that prophecy, with the knight on the dragon, is as good as gospel.”

Sunwoo furrows his eyebrows for a split second, before taking two quick steps towards you. “Y/n, you don’t mean—“

“I do,” you say and huff, dropping your arms in frustration. “Someone has to try.”

“But we’ve never seen anyone tame them!”

“If I recall correctly, before today, neither of us had even seen a dragon,” you counter, and Sunwoo opens his mouth, then snaps it shut when he can’t seem to come up with a response.

As he watches you from behind, only one thought comes to mind, one that terrifies him more than being burnt to a crisp by a beast.

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

At his low blunt voice, you freeze momentarily, considering that possibility for what feels like the first time, despite knowing how much it very much is not.

“Yeah well,” you sigh, just barely grabbing at the laces of your corset to pull the loops loose, “you’ve always said I was always in the right place to make a name for myself, so…”

”I meant that in a ‘you have the means to’ kind of way, not for you to go and make yourself some kind of a martyr-”

”Well what does it matter anyway?” You exclaim, twisting around to face him with a flushed face. “What does it matter if I die?”

Your breath comes in short and quick puffs, clouds of steam inhabiting the diminishing space between you two as he stares at you in shock.

“My family is ruined,” you spit, a rogue tear slipping out of one eye, “my title is a chain to which I’ve been bound by birth, I have no prospects, no possessions, my very existence is meaningless—”

”Not to me!”

Your eyes widen after Sunwoo yells, both of his hands holding a tight grip to your shoulders as he breathes heavily and tries to right himself.

”I don’t care how selfless you are, or how unimportant your life seems to be, or how true this so-called prophecy is,” he says in a low voice, staring at the stone flooring as he blinks hard. “I’ll be damned if I lose the only person I’ve ever loved, because you’re so quick to risk it all for a society that’s never cared. About you. About us.”

Mouth agape, you hardly find the air necessary to breathe before you let go of the laces in your hands, nearly shaking in his grasp.

”You…” More tears prick at the corner of your vision, making it even harder to see him in the low lighting. “You love me?”

He picks up his head, gazing straight into your shocked demeanor with a small but sure nod.

”Fates and swords, Sunwoo,” you choke out a sob, fingers trembling as you reach up to cup his bruised cheek, “why…why didn’t you ever-”

”Because I couldn’t risk,” he begins, teary eyes now mirroring yours, “losing the only person I’ve ever loved.”

He watches as you fall to pieces in his hold, trying to sort through the muddled emotions swirling through your mind. The muffled sound of shouting and heavy blasts echoes from the closed door, and you wonder how much time you'd even have staying here. If it would even make a difference to hide or to face the threat head on. But then you feel Sunwoo's fingers curling around your shoulders, so tightly it almost hurts, like he's trying to remind himself that you're still there. Drinking in the feeling of his touch, the warmth of his face in your palm, you realize you're doing the same.

His eyes stay locked with yours, and it's obvious that he notices the shift in your realization. That this moment may very well be the last one you get together like this, if you’re so unlucky.

You don’t know what compels you to do it. But one second you’re standing in his hold and the next, you’re throwing yourself into his chest, crushing your lips with his as tears stream down your cheeks.

He catches you with ease, pulling you hard against him, but careful enough to not splinter the boning in your corset as you both attempt to steady yourselves, simultaneously unwilling to part for another second. Sunwoo kisses you back hard, desperately, freely, and you know that he feels just as frantically that you may not have this chance again. There's a million things to regret, to wonder—if you had said something sooner, if he’d said something sooner, if time could be on your side—but you shove aside those thoughts. You're not wasting a second more.

Sunwoo's hands slide up to hold your face, the same way you're doing with his. It's equal parts tender and firm, like he's holding you together—like he's holding himself together by extension. And then you lose yourself in his mouth pressing against yours, communicating all the unspoken feelings you don’t have time to voice. But you can feel each word in the trace of his thumb along your cheekbone, his breath on your skin with every brief pull back before diving in again, his wet tears that spill over your fingers and pool by the corners of his lips. You taste salt, and regret, and relief all at once.

And then you pull back yourself, and whisper it back.

“I love you too.”

Sunwoo looks as if he’s seen another dragon as he stares back at you, a fire alight in his eyes. He gently presses his forehead to yours as he stumbles you both into the cold stone wall, barely being able to hold himself off of you as he takes in the sight of you, flushed and breathless.

“Please,” he begs, hand dropping to hold yours down by your skirts, “please say that again.”

“I love you, Sunwoo.”

At that he smiles widely to himself, lifting the back of your hand to his lips and kissing it over and over again.

“Maybe I’ll join you in taming these dragons,” he chuckles, turning your wrist to press one last kiss against your palm before holding it to his face.

"Because now that I've heard that, I can die a happy man."

[buttahpie]

Thank you for tagging me @glowing-gold ! Delighted to participate

Favorite Movie: I have soooo many. Dirty Dancing (i wanna write a McLennon au of this), Howls moving castle, all of the lord of the rings movies (extended editions obviously), a knights tale, surf’s up

Favorite TV Show: I don’t watch a lot of tv. But I’ve always loved Friends and Glee, and as of recent Ted Lasso as been an obsession

Favorite Musical Artists: I listen to SO much music and so many different artists. Kind of fond of the Beatles. Just a little. All of their solo careers (but esp. Paul’s), David Bowie, Fleetwood Mac, I LOVE Jeff Buckley, Hozier (I write all my smut to hozier). Aretha Franklin, Wings, Marvin Gaye, Kirk Franklin, Billy Joel, Frank Ocean, The Stones, lots of Michael Jackson and i listen to a TON of musicals. I love musicals. Hadestown, Something Rotten, Hairspray, anything by Sondheim. I also LOVE twenty one pilots and have seen them live four times.

Favorite Color: Green, but a deep, emerald green

Favorite Season: Summer 100% I have an affinity for all seasons, truly. But long days, warm nights, late sunsets, crisp mornings. I live in a cold climate so summers never exceed extreme temperatures. I just love the summer months.

Favorite Book: I’m terrible and don’t read nearly enough books. I spend all my time reading plays (for my degree) and fan fic. I wished I read more real books, but I honestly would much rather read fan fiction. Oops. I literally only read acting books, but my favorite one of those is An Actor Prepares by Stanislavsky, if you care.

Do you have any Funko Pops? I did in high school but not anymore. I hate junk (oops) and anything that takes up shelf space isn’t worth it unless its a book or record.

Do you play any instruments? Yes! Many actually. My main instrument is actually the bass, both double and electric but my specialty is bluegrass and folk playing! I also play a little piano, and have experience with the little stringed instruments of the world: Ukulele, Mandolin, I even have a Banjo-lele.

Do you have any pets? No :( I lost my childhood dog just last year and miss her. I take care of my best friends little dog a lot, though (aptly named toto)

Do you read or write fan fiction? All day every day. Literally. In all my free time I write fan fic, and every night before I go to bed and every commute to work I read fan fic. Mostly Beatles fan fic, although I just started reading All the Young Dudes for the first time and I am HOOKED. Wolfstar BRAINROT. I love fan fic, and I am pretty open about my love of it with my irls.

What song(s) have you had on repeat recently? ‘You Send Me’ (both the Aretha Franklin and Sam Cooke versions), Changes (David Bowie), Revolution (Kirk Franklin), I listen to ‘Lover You Should Have Come Over’ by Jeff Buckley every single day of my life. The Beatles are always playing around me. Recently I’ve been listening to a lot of Let it Be (1970).

Yay! Loved answering these. Tagging @johangeorghohman @cocaineskinny909 @tauruscats @i-am-the-oyster