#but i will be stubborn and read it in game
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Always the loser, never the winner
“And I’m sorry I left, but it was for the best— thought it never felt right.”
Choi Su-bong/Thanos x sick!ex reader warning. swearing, not proof read, might be OOC, no happy ending, mentions of drugs
genre. angst
The night Choi Su-bong walked out of your life was the coldest one you could remember. You were sick—seriously sick—and he had tried, God, he had tried, to make it work. He worked every odd job he could find alongside his dream of becoming a rapper, borrowed money from anyone who would listen, and skipped meals just to make sure you had enough to eat. But the medical bills piled up, and the debt collectors came knocking. He saw no way out.
The decision to leave was supposed to save you. He told himself that over and over as he packed his things in the dead of night. Without him, you’d be eligible for financial aid. Without his debts dragging you down, you’d have a chance to survive. But when he walked out that door without a word, it broke him. He thought it was the only way to show you he loved you; by disappearing.
Months passed. He tried to drown his guilt in drugs, hoping to maybe one day get back to you, however once he made the grave mistake of investing into a damn bitcoin— his life came crashing down on him. His debts only grew and to him there was only one possible solution to his depressive life; suicide.
Then the invitation came. A strange card, offering the promise of a fortune. Su-bong didn’t hesitate—he had nothing left to lose. It was like a sign from god, an angel sent from heaven telling him his life hasn’t lost its purpose just yet.
The games were brutal, but he clung to one thought to keep himself alive: if he won, he’d find you again. He’d make things right.
But then he saw you.
The first round had ended, the survivors headed back into the dormitory. He was scanning the crowd, taking stock of the competition, when his eyes landed on you. You were standing near the corner, pale but determined, your jaw set with the same stubbornness he always loved. His heart stopped.
“No,” he whispered under his breath, his legs nearly giving out beneath him. You didn’t notice him at first, too preoccupied with your own fear and confusion. But when the second game began, and players were called to choose teams, you spotted him. Your eyes met across the room.
“Su-bong? .. Or should I say Thanos?”
His name on your lips felt like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as the weight of what he’d done crashed down on him. You were here because of him. Because he’d left you with nothing.
You marched toward him, your expression a mixture of disbelief and fury. “What the hell are you doing here?” “I could ask you the same thing,” he managed to choke out, his voice coming off a bit harsher then intended . “I didn’t have a choice,” you snapped, your voice breaking. “I needed money, and I thought—” You stopped, shaking your head as tears filled your eyes. “No. You don’t get to ask me that. You left me.”
“I—” He reached out, but you stepped back. “You left me to die, Su-bong.” He couldn’t argue. He wanted to tell you why, to make you understand, but what could he say? That he thought abandoning you was love? That he thought you’d be better off without him? It all sounded so empty now, standing here in this nightmare. The announcement for the next game interrupted you. You were forced apart, thrown into a world where survival meant stepping over others. He watched you from a distance, unable to protect you, hating himself more with every passing second.
You both however survived the games, a weight lifting off of your chest once you stepped into the dormitories you learned to love— because it meant you got to live another day.
Then the votes came. You pressed O, having nothing to loose since you were already dying from this god forsaken sickness you were cursed with anyway.
Su-bong didn’t know, but a part of you blamed yourself for everything—for the debt, for his departure, for the way your once-perfect life unraveled. When he left, thinking it would save you, he didn’t realize the crushing weight of the medical bills would fall squarely on your shoulders. The debt collectors didn’t stop; they simply shifted their focus. And in the cruelest twist of fate, his absence had effectively wiped away his debts while doubling your own. You hated yourself for it. Hated that you had become a burden, that your illness had destroyed the life you’d built together. You’d loved Su-bong since high school, falling for his charm and his stubborn determination. Your relationship had been solid, a rare kind of love most would say he’s incapable of.
But sickness had a way of poisoning everything. You’d watched as his shoulders slumped under the weight of your medical expenses, as his bright smile dimmed with every overdue notice. And then, one day, he was gone, leaving nothing behind but a note you could barely bring yourself to read.
It was perfect, once. You’d wake up to his warm laughter and fall asleep to his whispered promises of forever. But in the end, love hadn’t been enough to keep you together.
One night, as the others slept, you found yourself sitting beside him in the dark. Neither of you spoke for a long time, the silence heavy with everything left unsaid. Finally, you broke it.
“Did you know your debts were cleared when you left?” you asked, your voice quiet. Su-bong froze, his gaze snapping to yours. “What?” “I got stuck with all of it,” you admitted, staring at the floor. “The medical bills, the loans—they all fell on me after you left. You thought you were saving me, but you only made it worse.” His face crumpled, and for the first time, you saw the depth of his regret. “Shit, I— I didn’t know,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought... I thought you’d be free.” You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Free? Su-bong, I lost everything. My health, my home, you. I had nothing left.” “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I was so fucking stupid. I should have stayed. I should’ve fought harder.” “Yeah, you should’ve,” you said, your voice trembling with anger and heartbreak. “We could’ve figured it out together, but you didn’t give me a choice. You just left.” “I was scared,” he admitted. “Scared of watching you suffer, scared of failing you. I thought you’d hate me if I stayed.”
You looked at him then, tears streaming down your face. “I didn’t hate you, Su-bong. I loved you. I still love you, even after everything.” His breath hitched, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of the boy you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. “I love you too dumbass,” he said, his voice cracking but a teasing tone in his. “I never stopped.”
But there was no time for reconciliation, no room for hope in a place like this. The next day, another game began, and the stakes were higher than ever. Su-bong tried to shield you, to take risks so you wouldn’t have to, but the games didn’t care about love or sacrifice.
After Mingle, the vote came to a tie. You were on the O side, earning glares from many, but you didn’t care.
You noticed Su-bong get up and walk away. “Hey—where are you going?” you whisper-yelled, raising a brow. He turned around with a sigh before coming back to you. “I’m going to take a piss. Wanna come, princess?” he smirked, amused as your face turned bright red. “No—go! Ew, what the hell?” You pushed him away, but a chuckle escaped your lips despite yourself. He ruffled your hair and left without another word, leaving a small smile on your face.
“We’ll get out of here, and everything will get better…” you murmured to yourself. A low chuckle beside you made you flinch.
It was Player 001.
“What makes you think he actually cares for you?” His tone was soft but laced with an aggravating edge, a barely noticeable smirk playing on his lips. “What?” you asked, frowning. “I mean… didn’t you see him doing those drugs during Red Light, Green Light? He’s probably going to get out of here and waste all of your money on his happy pills,” he said casually, glancing down at you as you sat frozen in place.
Your heart stopped. ‘What? But he said he was sober..’ you thought, confusion clouding your mind as doubts about Su-bong resurfaced. “Why so nervous?” the man pressed, leaning against a nearby bed. “Did you realize your boyfriend over there isn’t as trustworthy as you thought?” His words stung, but before you could respond, you noticed more X voters entering the bathrooms, making your chest tighten with panic. “What? I—no.” You stood quickly, intending to rush to the bathroom, but he grabbed your shoulder with a firm grip. “Be careful with your decisions,” he said, his voice low and ominous. “This place is life or death—remember that.”
You tried to push past him, but he pulled you into a secluded corner where neither the O nor X voters could see. “What are you doing? Let me go!” you protested, thrashing against his hold. His grip didn’t loosen. “Shhh,” he whispered, his expression unreadable. You struggled, tears pooling in your eyes. ‘No— no.. no Su-bong he’s in danger I need to—‘ Your body slowly started giving up— you were surprised it even held out for this long but sickness has a way of manipulating your way of thinking. Sometimes you think you’re as healthy as one can be but then before you know it.. death is gently kissing your cheek.
‘Su-bong..’ He was the only thing on your mind as your consciousness slipped from your fingers. A sharp pain stung your heart, almost like a bullet as you heard one last thing, something you certainly did not want to hear.
“Player 230 eliminated.”
No, he promised. He promised you’d get out— together. You fell for his stupid lies and promises yet again, you let your guard down and got hurt again, but this time it wasn’t just a petty break up.. a life was lost, a precious one to you at that and you couldn’t take it back.. not this time. ‘I hate you Choi Su-bong. I hate you for leaving me, I hate you for lying to me and tricking me yet again with your stupid charm and that stupid smirk. I hate you so so much.. But I can’t help but love you with my whole, sick being.’
© just1cefor4ll— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms or fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫
#⚖️ juist1cefor4ll#choi su bong#thanos squid game#choi su bong x reader#choi su bong squid game#su bong x reader#squid game fanfic#squid game#squid game season 2#squid game thanos#thanos x reader#squid game thanos x reader#thanos#squid game x y/n
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Cherry Pie
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Summary: Dean's feeling blue when he believes you have forgotten his birthday... or have you?
Word Count: 4.7k
Warnings: Swearing, SMUT!! (18+ONLY) fluff.
A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAN WINCHESTER!! 🎉 in honour of @scoobydoodean 's birthday party for Dean 2025 post, I have wrote a little something for our favourite hunter. Boy it's a ride 😅 but I really enjoyed writing this one. I hope you enjoy. ☺️
Masterlist
Dean wasn’t one for birthday celebrations. To be honest, he’d never truly experienced one—not in the way most people did. Growing up in the life of a hunter didn’t leave much room for cake, candles, or balloons. Birthdays were just another day, marked by a new set of scars, another hunt, or a quiet night spent patching himself up.
In his adult years, if he wasn’t in the middle of a case, he’d spend the night nursing a beer in some dimly lit bar, convincing himself he didn’t care. If he was lucky, he’d even find someone to warm his bed for the night, a fleeting distraction that never really filled the void. Birthdays were hollow, just another tally to another year alive.
But then, everything changed when he met you.
You’d stormed into his life like a hurricane, dismantling his defences and staking a claim on his heart before he even knew what hit him. At first, your insistence on making every occasion special baffled him.
He’d brush off your plans with a dismissive shrug, insisting he didn’t need all the fuss. But you were relentless. You made it your mission to show him he was deserving of celebration—of love—and you did it with such conviction that, slowly but surely, his walls began to crumble.
It wasn’t easy for him to accept at first. The scars of his past ran deep, and the idea that someone would go out of their way just for him felt foreign—almost wrong. But you had a way of breaking through his stubbornness with a smile, a laugh, or a simple touch that reminded him he wasn’t alone anymore. Over time, you turned his scepticism into something unexpected: anticipation.
However, as he shuffled into the kitchen that morning, seeing as you weren’t in bed when he woke up, he couldn’t help but glance in your direction, half-expecting some grand gesture or, at the very least, a good morning kiss. Instead, you barely looked up from the coffee machine, murmuring a quick “morning” before heading out, muttering something about reorganising supplies, leaving him confused beyond comprehension.
The rest of the day was no different. Every time Dean tried to strike up a conversation, you were already onto the next task—cleaning, organising, cataloguing. By lunchtime, he’d given up entirely, retreating to the war room with a beer in hand.
Dean told himself he didn’t care. It was just another day, after all. But the lack of acknowledgment, at all, from you stung more than he wanted to admit. He kept replaying moments from the day, wondering if he’d done something to upset you. Maybe he’d said something stupid. Maybe you were just tired of him? The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
By the time evening rolled around, Dean was nursing his third beer and wallowing in a cocktail of self-doubt and resignation. “Figures,” he muttered to himself, leaning back in his chair. “Not like it matters anyway.”
But the ache in his chest told a different story. Maybe it was childish to sulk, but it was you who had made him this way. He was happy going on not caring, he didn’t need it. But you had somehow made him want it.
He eventually dragged himself to the kitchen for another drink. However, when he opened the fridge, his eyes landed on a folded note taped to a bottle of beer. Frowning, he pulled it off and read it:
“Beers on me, birthday boy. First clue: Where you pretend to ‘hit your mark’.”
Dean blinked at the note; it took him a minute to realise you’d been playing a game this whole time. He released a scoff of disbelief as well as slow smile creeping across his face. Boy did he feel dumb. Of course you wouldn’t forget.
A jolt of giddiness as well as warmth sparked in his chest, until he reread the note. “Okay, smart-ass,” he muttered, pocketing the paper.
He made his way to the armoury, scanning the shelves until his eyes landed on a second note taped to a shotgun.
“Nice work. Next stop: The place where you steal my snacks.”
Dean chuckled, especially at the hand drawn angry face. Shaking his head, he headed toward your bedroom. Sure enough, another note was waiting on the little snack box you stashed in your top draw.
“Getting warmer. Now, find the place where you brood the most.”
“That’s a low blow,” he grumbled, making his way to the war room. The next note was tucked under a stack of books on the table.
“Last one, Dean. Head back to where you lay your pretty little head at night.”
Dean laughed outright this time, pocketing the final note before heading to his room. When he pushed the door open, he stopped dead in his tracks.
The room was transformed. Strings of fairy lights crisscrossed the walls, casting a warm, intimate glow. On the desk to his left sat a cooler of his favourite beer, what looked to be a homemade baked pie. Apple, from the sweet and cinnamon’y scent, and a small box wrapped in colourful paper with a neatly tied with a bow.
You stood in front of the bed, dressed in a pretty silk robe; your smooth legs bare, leaving him wondering if the rest of you was underneath, with your hands clasped nervously in front of you, a shy smile on your face.
“Happy birthday, Dean,” you said softly.
Dean stepped into the room, his eyes taking in every detail in awe. “You did all this?”
You nodded. “I… uh, baked the pie early this morning. That’s why I wasn’t here when you woke up. And I know it’s small but, here.” You handed him the gift, a nervous tick in your movements.
Dean took the box from your hands, his calloused fingers brushing yours. He turned it over, examining it with curiosity before shooting you a questioning look.
“Open it,” you scolded playfully, a giggle slipping out as he raised the box to his ear and gave it a testing shake. He smirked at your reaction but obeyed, tearing into the wrapping paper. He set the crumpled remains aside carefully, revealing a plain box underneath. Sliding off the lid, he pulled out a cassette tape.
It was labelled in your handwriting: ‘Dean Winchester’s Playlist.’
“I compiled all your favourite songs onto one tape… you know, for the longer drives. I figured it might come in handy,” you said, shrugging nonchalantly, though your insides churning with anxiety.
Dean’s smile was soft, almost reverent, as he looked at you, then back at the tape, cradling it like it was something precious. You always found new ways to surprise him. “I love it.”
“Wait,” he said suddenly, as a thought came to mind from a few days ago. “Is this why you ‘borrowed’ my box of tapes to reorganise them?” he asked, making air quotes with his fingers.
You grinned. “Guilty.”
Dean chuckled, a deep, warm sound that made your heart flutter. “I thought it was strange when you returned them, and they didn’t look any different.”
You bit your lip, the memory of sneaking around to plan this flashing through your mind. It had been no easy feat keeping it a secret, especially when you were together so often. And then this morning, when you kept up the facade not acknowledging his birthday, all in a ploy to get things ready.
You were thankful for Sam helping you place the notes whilst you got the room ready.
“Unorthodox methods had to be taken,” you said with a teasing glint in your eye.
“And here I thought you forgot,” Dean murmured, shaking his head. A pang of guilt crossed his face, knowing now how much effort you’d put into this.
“Forget your birthday?” you teased, though your tone was soft. “Not a chance.”
Dean’s smile softened as he took a step closer to you, setting the tape back on the table. “You didn’t have to go through all this, you know.”
“I wanted to,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
For a moment, everything else faded. His green eyes shone in the glow of the fairy lights, filled with an emotion so raw it made your breath hitch.
“You’re something else,” he said, his voice thick with feeling as he reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face. His hand lingered, cupping your cheek as his thumb gently traced your skin.
And when his lips met yours, it was soft, almost tentative, as if he was savouring the moment. But as you responded, his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.
The kiss deepened, a slow-burning fire igniting between you. Every ounce of tension from the day melted away, replaced by the warmth of his touch and the passion that simmered just beneath the surface.
You were lost in the moment, captivated by the way he held you, kissed you, made you feel as though you were the only thing that mattered. His free hand found your waist, anchoring you to him as he poured every unsaid word into the kiss.
When you finally pulled back, breathless and dazed, you managed a soft laugh. “I have one more surprise,” you mumbled, though it was hard to form a coherent thought when he was looking at you like that.
Dean’s arms tightened around you, his lips brushing against your jaw and trailing to your neck. “And what’s that?” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and husky.
You giggled, placing your hands on his chest to gently push him back just enough to speak. “You’re going to have to let me go first.”
He groaned dramatically but stepped back, his hands lingering on your waist. “This better be good,” he teased, a playful grin on his face.
“Oh, I’m positive you’ll think so.” You grinned over your shoulder as you pulled out a small box you had hidden behind the bedside table. Dean raised a surprised brow, only now just realising now how cunning you actually were.
You opened the box and dumped the contents onto the bed. Dean walked over and stood behind you, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders as he examined what you had. Various bottles of scented oils and lotions spilled across the mattress, and he frowned in confusion.
“What’s all this?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
You turned to look at him, your grin widening as you leaned back slightly against his chest. “It’s for you,” you said simply.
“For me?” His brows furrowed further, though there was a hint of amusement and wonder in his eyes.
“It’s the next part of your surprise,” you murmured, your voice soft and teasing as your hands glided up his chest and over his broad shoulders. Your fingertips pressed into his muscles gently but with purpose, kneading just enough for him to feel the hint of your intentions.
Dean’s eyebrows lifted, his lips curving into that familiar boyish grin that always made your heart flutter. “A massage?” he asked, his tone tinged with playful curiosity but unmistakable enthusiasm.
“Mmhm,” you confirmed, stepping back with a bright smile. You moved toward the bedside, gathering a neatly folded stack of towels he hadn’t even noticed sitting off to the side.
Dean watched you with growing intrigue, his eyes flickering between the towels in your hands and the way you were now spreading them out across the middle of the bed.
“Just making sure the sheets don’t get ruined,” you replied with a sly grin at his questioning look. “These oils might smell good, but I don’t think they’re exactly laundry friendly.”
Dean chuckled, shaking his head with amused disbelief. “You’ve really thought this through, huh?”
“Damn right I have,” you shot back, your grin widening as you pointed toward him with playful authority. “Now, Winchester, off with the layers.”
Dean’s grin turned roguish, a familiar spark of mischief lighting up his green eyes. Slowly, he shrugged off his flannel, letting it fall to the floor before pulling his T-shirt over his head. His broad, toned chest came into view, the scars scattered across his skin telling stories of battles fought and survived. You bit your lip, letting your gaze linger a second longer than you intended.
Dean noticed—of course, he did. His smirk deepened, and the heat in his gaze was unmistakable as he kicked off his boots and slid his jeans down, leaving him standing there in nothing but his boxers.
“Face down,” you instructed, your voice steady despite the flutter of anticipation in your chest.
Dean tilted his head, giving you one last cheeky grin before doing as you asked. His strong, bowed legs carried him toward the bed with an easy saunter, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his muscles flexed and shifted with every step.
He stretched out on the bed with a low, satisfied groan, his back muscles contracting briefly before settling into the soft towels beneath him.
“Man,” he muttered, his voice muffled slightly by the pillow. “This is already shaping up to be the best birthday ever.”
A smile tugged at your lips as you grabbed one of the bottles of oil laying on the other side of the bed. With a quiet squeeze, you poured a generous amount into your palm, rubbing your hands together to warm the liquid. The rich, earthy scent of sandalwood mixed with the comforting sweetness of vanilla, filling the air between you.
Carefully straddling his hips, you started at his shoulders, your hands gliding over his skin in slow, deliberate movements. The tension in his muscles was evident immediately, knots hardened from years of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders—both literally and figuratively.
“Damn, Baby,” you murmured, pressing your thumbs into a particularly tight spot between his shoulder blades. “How are you even walking around like this?”
He groaned at your touch, his head turning slightly to the side. “Years of practice. That, and the occasional beer.”
You chuckled softly, your movements becoming more purposeful as you kneaded the stubborn tension from his shoulders. “Not tonight,” you whispered. “Tonight, you’re going to relax.”
Your hands moved with intention, gliding down the curve of his spine, pausing to work out each knot and tight band of muscle. The scars beneath your fingertips were rough reminders of everything he had endured, but you treated them with reverence, your touch gentle yet firm.
Dean let out a deep, contented sigh, his body visibly relaxing under your hands. “Where the hell did you learn to do this?” he asked, his voice heavy with gratitude.
“Spent some time watching videos,” you admitted with a grin. “Figured I’d need to bring my A-game if I wanted to impress you.”
“You’ve got nothing to prove, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and full of affection.
Your hands moved to his arms next, massaging the strong muscles there before returning to his shoulders for another pass. The sound of his deep breathing filled the room, a clear sign that he was letting himself fully unwind.
As you leaned down, your lips brushed against the shell of his ear. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice rich with warmth and sincerity, the emotion swelling in your chest as your hands continued their devoted exploration of the man beneath your fingertips.
Dean turned his head slightly, his eyes still closed, but the slow, genuine smile that spread across his lips told you he’d heard you loud and clear. It wasn’t just the words—it was the way you said them, with a love so deep it felt like it wrapped around him, soothing the cracks he’d hidden from the world.
Although he was a man of very little words when it came to it, more of a shower than a teller, you knew he felt the same.
The tension seemed to melt away beneath your touch, replaced with the softness of surrender. You lingered at his shoulders, sweeping the area one last time, before sitting upright with a satisfied smile.
Dean’s eyes blinked open at the absence of your hands, his brow furrowing slightly before he rose onto his elbows with a deep groan, rolling his shoulders as if testing how light they now felt.
“Damn,” he muttered, his voice a little rough. “Didn’t think I could feel this loose.”
He turned to look at you over his shoulder, his green eyes narrowing with curiosity at the sly smile playing on your lips.
“On your back,” you instructed, your voice soft but laced with an unspoken promise that made the air between you hum with anticipation.
Dean’s brows lifted slightly, his lips twitching into a grin as he rolled onto his back, letting you slip off him to make space. His movements were deliberate but eager, his gaze never leaving yours. His eyes were hooded, glinting with both wonder and heat as he watched you, waiting for your next move.
You trapped your bottom lip behind your teeth, your gaze smouldering as you reached for the belt of your robe. Slowly, you untied it, letting the fabric part and glide down your body to pool in a crumpled heap at your feet.
Dean’s breath hitched audibly, his chest rising sharply as his eyes roamed over you, drinking in the sight. You were clad in nothing but a satin night-dress that skimmed every curve, the soft fabric clinging in all the right places and leaving little to the imagination.
“Sweetheart,” Dean rasped, his voice thick with admiration and desire, “you’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
You stepped closer, your bare feet silent against the floor as you leaned over him, your hands finding their way back to his chest. “Not tonight, Winchester,” you murmured, your lips curving into a teasing smile as you pressed your palms to the solid planes of his body.
“Tonight, I’m going to take care of you.”
Dean’s heart thudded in anticipation, licking his lips as you once again climbed aboard, this time settling snuggly against his crotch.
He moaned his approval as he realised you’d forgone underwear, the warmth of your slick heat seeped through onto his hardening cock.
“Fuck.” He cursed at the sight of you. His hands instinctively running along the flesh of your thighs.
“Look at you, all tense again.” You tutted disapprovingly, your lips twitching into a sly smirk. You leaned over to the side of you again, making sure to grind your hips into him as you did.
His responding moan sent a bolt of heat straight to your core, his hands tightening on your thighs just enough to leave a dull, thrilling ache. The unspoken tension crackled in the air, thick and heady. You shifted slightly, settling back into your previous position, pouring another generous amount of oil into your palm.
You never broke eye contact as you rubbed your hands together, warming the oil between them. The heat wasn’t just from the friction—it radiated between you, an unspoken promise that left your breaths shallow and synchronised.
Then, slowly, you pressed your palms to his chest, letting them glide over the firm, taut muscle beneath. The oil slicked his skin, making your movements smooth and deliberate as you traced the hard planes of his chest and shoulders.
Dean let out a deep, gravelly moan, the sound vibrating through your hands and sending shivers down your spine. His head tipped back slightly, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before they reopened, hazy and half-lidded. He stayed still, patient for once; his hands resting on your thighs, his grip firm but reverent as though grounding himself in the moment.
Your touch shifted between soft and purposeful, your fingers digging into the knots buried deep beneath his skin, ones he didn’t even realise he had in those places. When you reached more tender spots, your pressure softened, your hands moving with care.
All the while, Dean’s gaze was locked on you, flickering between your concentrated expression and the curves of your body. His eyes were dark with desire, but there was something more profound there—adoration, reverence. He was utterly captivated, wholly yours in every possible sense.
To him, you weren’t just beautiful; you were his safe haven, his sanctuary. Every touch of your hands, every gentle motion across his skin, reminded him of how much he was loved, how much he belonged to you.
His chest rose and fell beneath your palms, the rhythm steady but deep, a testament to how completely relaxed he was under your care. For a man who’d spent his life fighting, carrying the weight of the world, and never allowing himself to fully let go, this moment was a rarity.
His heart felt impossibly full, warmth flooding through him in waves. Watching you, feeling you, he was entirely at your mercy. And there was no other place he’d rather be.
His body was sinking again, your, almost professional, hands lulling him into a state of pure blissful relaxation. He’d almost forgot about the feel of your bare pussy, separated by only a thin piece of fabric, against him until you shifted back on your hunches.
“Hmm.” You frown in though, your expression almost serious. “I think there’s still a part of you that’s not quite as relaxed as I’d have liked.” You punctuate with a role your hips.
Dean groans and drops his head back, his hands quickly finding your hips, feeling rather than guiding the grind of your pussy against his stiff cock.
“Dammit.” He huffs, both amused and incredibly turned on. “You really are try’na kill me.”
“I told you.” You smile as you slide off of him again, only to remove his boxers, which he’s happy oblige as you glide them down and off of his legs, dropping them unceremoniously to the floor. You climb back onto the bed, but this time settle between his spread thighs. “I’m going to take care of you.”
With that you tenderly kiss along his inner thigh, suckling gently at his hip bone before repeating the action the other side. Dean gasps and gawks at you, his hips twitching upwards every time you get near to his aching length.
Just as he’s about to beg you for more, he feels your lips seal around his leaking tip. He all but cries out. The slow torture of watching you touch his body with so much care and tenderness, all the while feeling the wetness between your legs soak through the front of his boxers, because of that. He’s about ready to burst.
However, you take your time to suck and lick at the reddened tip, welcoming the salty tang of pre-cum on your tongue with an appreciative moan. Dean fists the sheets beneath him as you work him over with your mouth this time. The sensation is too much and not enough all at once, but again, before he can whine - because that’s what you have resorted him to - you engulf him into your mouth.
It’s warm and wet and “oh so fucking good”, Dean thinks. You build a steady rhythm, taking him as far as you can go whilst your hand, which was still slick with oil, caresses his balls.
Dean was a moaning babbling mess, his skin shining with a thin sheen of sweat, his chest heaving, back arching slightly as he fucked up into your mouth. You welcomed it with encouraging moans of your own, sucking him harder, deeper until he was shouting out his climax and spilling down your throat.
You swallowed everything he gave you, softening your movements as you gently sucked him clean. He hissed at the sensitivity when you finally pulled away, his body going slack and weightless against the mattress. If his heart wasn’t beating so wildly, he was sure he could easily pass out.
“Relaxed?” you murmured softly, settling against his side. Your hand moved in gentle, soothing strokes over the heated, flushed skin of his chest as he lay there, catching his breath and slowly returning from the blissful haze you’d pulled him into.
Dean let out a shaky chuckle, his chest still heaving slightly. “Holy shit,” he finally managed, turning his head to look at you. His green eyes shone with a mix of awe and disbelief, like he couldn’t quite process how someone could make him feel like that.
You smiled bashfully, your heart swelling with pride at his reaction. “Good?” you teased lightly, though your voice was warm and tender.
“Incredible,” he corrected, his tone reverent. “That was just… wow. I don’t even have words right now.” He let out another breathless laugh, and you couldn’t help but join him, the sound of your shared laughter filling the room with a lightness that made your chest ache.
When the laughter faded, you found yourselves locked in a quiet moment, your gazes tangling. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; it was charged with the raw connection you both shared. Dean’s face was still painted with the glow of his post-orgasmic bliss, his features relaxed and open in a way that made your heart skip a beat.
Even as a dull ache thrummed between your own legs, you ignored it, content in the knowledge that tonight wasn’t about you. Tonight was for him.
One of his hands reached up to cup your cheek, his calloused thumb brushing tenderly over your flushed skin. The gesture was so intimate, so full of unspoken love, that it sent a shiver down your spine.
His gaze softened further, the warmth in his eyes making your chest tighten. “How the hell did I get so lucky?” he whispered, the words barely audible but carrying the weight of his sincerity.
You didn’t have a chance to respond before he leaned up slowly, his hand guiding you down to meet him. His lips pressed against yours in a kiss that was achingly slow and sensual, the kind of kiss that spoke volumes without needing words.
His lips moved against yours with deliberate tenderness, savouring every second of the connection. The kiss wasn’t rushed or demanding—it was deep, filled with raw emotion, gratitude, and an overwhelming love that poured from him into you.
You sighed softly against his mouth, your fingers threading through his hair as you melted into him, feeling like the entire world had narrowed down to just this moment, just him. However, things quickly began to heat up again.
The kiss grew more needy, more desperate. A new surge of wetness coated your thighs as Dean trailed his lips from your mouth, jaw and to your ear, nibbling on the sensitive lobe until you were a whimpering mess.
He grabbed your thigh and lifted it to rest against his hip, pulling you flush against him as he did. You gasped in both surprise and pleasure at the feeling of his hardening length pressing against you.
“Already?” You breathlessly asked, your tone laced with awe and giddiness. Dean hummed in acknowledgement against your neck as his lips sucked and nipped at your most sensitive spots.
You tugged harshly at his hair as a hand slipped between your bodies, long, thick and callused digits pressing against your swollen clit. You cried out desperately as he began a slow circling motion, tiny shocks of pleasure jolting through your body with each sweep of his fingers.
Just as you were building, that coil inside you winding tight, his fingers suddenly retracted and you were pushed onto your back. Dean hovered above you, his eyes dark and hooded as he gazed down at you.
“You know. I have one criticism to make about tonight.” Dean confessed and leaned down to peck your lips once, then your jaw, your neck, your collar bone. You frowned, confused but curious.
“And what’s that?” You asked a little breathless at his ministrations, and he pulled his head back up to look at you again, a devilish twinkle in his eye.
“My favourite flavour of pie.” He said almost nonchalant, before he slowly returned to kissing down your body, keeping his eyes on yours as he pulled down the top of your night dress, exposing your tit to him.
Your mouth opened in a silent moan as he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud and sucked, hard. You arched into his mouth, shivering at the pleasurable pulse travelling down between your legs.
After lavishing both breasts with his talented mouth, he released you with a soft pop and looked at you again, gradually slipping down your body until his broad shoulders were forcing your legs to part to accommodate him. He slowly slid the hem of your dress up your waist, exposing your soaked pussy to him with a deep hunger in his eyes.
“You’ve always known my favourite is cherry.” He winked, licking his lips before diving in for a taste.
AN: This was so much fun to right. I wish Dean could have really been shown this much love on his birthday. 😭 As always let me know what you think and thank you for reading ❤️
Dean Winchester Tag List:
@bettystonewell , @lyarr24 , @nancymcl
#birthday party for dean 2025#supernatural#dean winchester#spn#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester x you#spn fanfic#sam winchester#jensen ackles#spnfamily#spn imagine#dean smut#dean x you#dean winchester x reader smut#abbalina writes
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WELCOME TO CORA AND AVE'S FORTUNE TELLING BOOTH
❥ get a love reading! this valentines, cora @saetiate and ave @venustrvck are taking requests! event status: open
send in: a character + one or more tarot cards (listed tropes) from below + sfw/nsfw preference + any other details! extra love heart! you can also send a kink from below the cut too. received requests here
you'll receive: a short drabble/fic based on your request :)
fandoms: blue lock, naruto, one piece, honkai star rail, genshin, love and deepspace
queer character hcs/reader and polyamory welcome too! please specify gender neutral/fem/masc/trans reader. no specifications will default to fem or gender neutral reader. this event is (n)sfw and dark content friendly!
example req 1: "hi! can I get a sae x f!reader, with the lovers - mutual pining? please and thank you!!" example req 2: "can i have oliver aiku x gender neutral reader with strength: arguments and add petplay please?"
PICK A TAROT CARD BELOW
❥ the fool: innocence, playfulness, recklessness; blind date, games, pick up lines, childhood friends to lovers
❥ the magician: transformation, beginnings, good omen; first meeting, meet/cute, meet/ugly, artist and model
❥ the high priestess: magic, dreams, knowledge; dream sharing, fortune telling, magic au
❥ the empress: passion, nurturing, fertility; motherhood, pregnancy, children with your f/os
❥ the emperor: authority, discipline, stubbornness; royalty au, power play, enemies to lovers
❥ the hierophant: community, learning, rituals; domestic life, university au, family traditions, religious observances (e.g. christmas, pouring sake for ancestors, tying the mangalasutra)
❥ the lovers: love, harmony, mutual attraction; soulmate au, confessions, mutual pining, first kiss
❥ the chariot: travel, action, ambition airport meeting, work-related au, summer/vacation fling, ceo au
❥ strength: courage, overcoming obstacles, urges; arguments, forced proximity, conflict resolution, proposal
❥ the hermit: solitude, withdrawal, introspection; hurt/comfort, unrequited pining, awkward flirting
❥ wheel of fortune: optimism, success, luck; chance/fated meeting, koi no yokan (knowing you will fall in love with someone), matchmaking
❥ justice: karma, honesty, decisions; returning a favor, relationship talk (e.g. talking about moving in together), mistaken identity
❥ the hanged man: suspension, potential, indecision; trust issues, infidelity, caught between two f /os, asked out as a bet/dare
❥ death: destruction, change, new beginnings; lost love, break up to make up, exes, grief and mourning
❥ temperance: communication, healing, moderation; comfort, wound-tending, drunken confessions
❥ the devil: desire, lust, temptation,; incest, any smut (see list of kinks below), omegaverse, supernatural elements
❥ the tower: drama, catastrophe, pride; hate sex, best friend's sibling, miscommuniation, yandere
❥ the star: renewal, hope, rest; easy love, at peace, coming home, first love
❥ the moon: emotion, fantasy, confusion; friends with benefits, late night/pillow talk, fantasy au, defining the relationship
❥ the sun: joy, friendship, prosperity; friends to lovers, fluff, love realization, praise kink
❥ judgement: awakening, resurrection, absolution; fake relationship, second chances, arranged marriage
❥ the world: fulfillment, experience, completion; marriage, growing old, aftercare
if you'd like, you can add or request a kink from this list: oral f!receiving, orgasm denial, body worship. 69, vanilla and sweet, omegaverse, size kink, lingerie, aphrodisiac, threesome, dirty talk, cockwarming, yandere, overstimulation, aftercare, face sitting, fingering, praise kink
get your love reading now! inbox either ave or cora with your req!
extra info
you can add dealer's choice at any point and we'll decide for you <3
you can send any req to either of us! blue lock can go to either of us, and by default it would be better to send one piece asks to ave and genshin+hsr+lads asks to cora, but we'll both receive them either way and make sure to get yours written :)
if you've already sent a req to either of us before, feel free to send it through again under this event
all drabbles will be a written collaboration by us <3 don't worry, we're very good friends and have been for years! cora specializes in dialogue and ave specializes in beautiful imagery and emotion-charged scenes, so it should be the best of all worlds
we reserve the right to deny any req we're not comfy w, we don't think this will happen but just in case!!
#corave valentines#<- tag for event!#both ave and i are gonna post this !! so u can rb from either of us!!
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Crappy Character Analysis, part 8
As I'm posting this, I've realized that I was really hard on Opportunist. So if he's your blorbo, I apologize. Thank you all for reading these, and be sure to check out the links for your favorite voice!
part 1 (Broken)
part 2 (Skeptic)
part 3 (Cold)
part 4 (Paranoid)
part 5 (Stubborn
part 6 (Contrarian)
part 7 (Smitten)
VOICE OF THE OPPORTUNIST
Of all of the voices in Slay the Princess, the Voice of the Opportunist is one of the most hated. I understand, I hate him too. The Pristine Cut has firmly cemented his place as an annoying stuck-up boot-licking jerk who changes his mind every five seconds. He tells you to stab the Thorn, actually stabs the Princess (and you) in the P&D, gets into a street fight with the Witch, and, when she possesses you, pulls out a chair in your subconscious for the Wraith to sit on and hands her your resume. What’s even worse about him is that he can’t even make up his mind! Any time someone says something, Opportunist immediately starts buttering them up, telling them how great of an idea they have. However, if someone else disagrees, he switches sides, telling them that their idea is the best, and that��s why he has always sided with them. In every appearance, he’s arrogant, slimy, and all-around untrustworthy. He even denies seeing the mirror, something which, as proven in literally every other chapter, every voice can see, just for the sake of playing both teams.
Why is the Opportunist like this? He wants to self-preserve. Every time you get him, you do it by stringing the Princess along, making her believe you’re going to help her, and then stabbing her in the back when opportunity arrives. Each time, the reason you stab her is because you value yourself and your agency over the person you promised to free. In the Spectre, you know what happens after you slay her, so why bother? To get her out of your head, to get full rein of your mind. In the Nightmare and Chapter 1, you stab her when it’s clear that the two of you will never escape together while the Narrator has anything to say about it. Every time Opportunist changes his mind, he does so in order to align himself with who he thinks has the most power. He does this in an attempt to ensure your safety when things inevitably get messy. This is seen in the Thorn, when he quickly switches sides once he realizes the Princess might have the knife. However, if you find it touching how much he cares about you, there’s still more to this argument. When Opportunist says he’s looking out for you, what he really means is “The body I’m inhabiting,” since, in the P&D, he stabs you with little hesitation. He wants to protect himself, but he claims to want to protect you because in the end, you are making the choices. The more he aligns himself with your viewpoints, the more likely you are to like him, meaning that you’ll take his advice later on. However, as showcased throughout the game, he really sucks at sounding genuine, and lays it on way too thick. Of course, he isn’t ride or die; if you make a choice that puts you in danger, Opportunist will protest. Out of all the voices, he’s the one that lacks empathy the most (Even more than Cold!). He is simply unable to make sacrifices to help someone else. He cannot put his trust in anyone except himself. He would never surrender power to another, no matter the risk. Honestly, I think the main reason people hate Opportunist is simply because of this attitude. I might have been a bit harsh on him, but the Pristine Cut did not make me like him very much.
#slay the princess#stp#stp voices#voice of the opportunist#that bitch#I'm a third of the way through cheated#i'm really having fun with this series
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you’ve heard of girls night, now get ready for girls night: evil, consisting of rei, eichi, rinne, and aira (victim)
#alternate name: rinne breaks into rei/eichi/aira's dorm room#i really need to read the main story#or a summary of it#but i will be stubborn and read it in game#and probably not end up reading it at all#maybe on a wiki page#i wonder why that is#marik post#ensemble stars#enstars#im attempting to spread the girls night agenda
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Fuck it. *Makes the old woman cry*
#isat#in stars and time#isat siffrin#isat odile#isat mirabelle#isat bonnie#isat isabeau#my art#art#Wow. I am incredibly late for this.#I started this a few days before Odile's birthday thinking I would be able to finish it on time.#But I didn't#Anyways. This is based off of a little post-game headcanon of mine.#Sometime after the game the party started having the 'feelings talk' about the loops#It eventually evolved into a conversation how they were family#Not too dissimilar to the one during the friend quest loops.#This is where Siffrin got the idea to give Odile a Familytale for her birthday.#Sorry if the text is hard to read. I had to mostly draw it out because Krita started being stubborn when I tried typing.#Aside from the last panel#isat spoilers#SmokinArt
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actually am i the only person who finds it so fucking weird that varric of all people was the one to die for solas. like. varric? varric??? they didn't even get along half the time lmao... like there's an entire part of cole's arc where him and solas are diametrically opposed and whoever "wins", the other is very much not happy about it. what the fuck happened between trespasser - where varric is literally viscount of kirkwall and kinda fucking busy with that!! - and suddenly him giving this much of a shit about solas????
okay, yeah, he's in the comics. okay, yeah, he's working for the inquisition in the comics. but honestly
i'm gonna be so for real, i don't really think i'm going to listen to the comics when this is apparently a plot thread in knight errant lmao. VARRIC got an invitation to SEBASTIAN'S birthday party?? varric, the guy who literally hated sebastian???? who would be hated by sebastian, in turn, especially if hawke saved the mages - which i'm 99% sure is what happens in bioware's canon? so like???
i dont know. it's just so weird. varric being in inquisition makes sense. cassandra forces him into it, there's a lot going on, man he just works here. whatever. but his role in TV just does not to me. him choosing, apparently, Apparently, after this, to continue with the inquisition, when he's busy being viscount (and hates it, yeah, sure, but he's still doing it because kirkwall is his home) and doesn't really care about solas except now he DOES, actually, to the point that when he is confronted with solas actively doing the ritual he's supposed to stop, he thinks he can talk him down. when EVERYTHING he knows about solas points to the opposite. he knows he is stubborn and obstinate and yeah, he cares, but that is why he is doing this. he knows solas cares to a fault. knows he will do anything to fix what is apparently a wrong by his own hands.
so why talk to him? why DIE for him? varric is smart. varric knows people (or so he thinks). that's his entire fucking schtick. you're gonna look me in the eye and tell me he's gonna sacrifice his life for SOLAS?????
it's so weird man. i don't even know if any of this made sense. but it's so weird to me.
#varric would sooner spit on solas and shoot him with bianca imo. like it's So Weird. i dont know if im interpreting varric wrong or what#also dont tell me to read the comics i have made it a point to not read DA's outside material because they rely on it so heavily#in the games now but dont explain much of any of it. and it annoys me. it's me being stubborn. i'm proving a point#if they're building varric's character in TV off of shit that happened in the comics then SHOW ME THAT. Don't just fucking throw him at me#with zero explanation and go Well here he is!!! The way he's always been!!!!#WHEN HE HASN'T BEEN LIKE THIS FOR HIS ENTIRE EXISTENCE IN THE GAMES#anyways.#txt#datv critical#<- sorry to put this in the tag i'm just tagging it in case anyone who follows me blocks it#because this made. no sense. i just woke up. i'm still drinking my tea. i'm not awake yet
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So I have been playing through Limbus Company, and I was wondering where the classic Project Moon vertical difficulty spike was, as I was having a suspiciously easy time progressing through the game, well I'm on Canto 5 now and it's safe to say I have found it.
#Limbus Company#after progressing through most of the games bosses without really needing to think much about strategy#suddenly needing to be cautious about what I do and more carefully read through enemies attacks and passives to see what they do#is certainly an experience#the only time I actually needed to do that was with Spicebush Dongbaek and that was partially because I was too underleved for that fight#but too stubborn to grind level up materials#I am no longer underleved now I fixed that a while back
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Where should you be kissed?
Knuckles. it feels as though you have fought every day of your life. sometimes, you cannot even tell how much of the blood on your hands is your own... and how much comes from those who've tried to hurt those you defend. you deserve the gentleness of a kiss to your bruised knuckles and broken skin, a reminder that you are not only made of violence.
[stolen from templeofvengeance; tagging you]
#ooc#dash game#[putting my haterism aside for one (1) minute to say this: I understand where Miguel's actions and vitriol come from. He's right in mental#rock bottom‚ to him‚ Miles is anomaly 001‚ a stressor that refuses to follow his assigned worldview-- if not all of 1610 somehow still#existing after Miles *supposedly* fucked it up‚ at his wit's end running the Society‚ endlessly reliving his grief/never letting it heal‚#and once he actually MEETS him‚ he probably reminds him too much of himself: stubborn‚ over his head but refusing to back down‚#an endless desire to DO GOOD but not knowing how or what to do. And that scares him. Because if he‚ the anomaly‚ the first cosmic flaw‚#WINS‚ is right‚ it'll upend his entire worldview. Everything he's fought for‚ ruthlessly enforced‚ staked the Society as a whole in.#This isn't me being an apologist btw; I'd love nothing more than to throttle his ass. But... but but but.#Somewhere in that endless lattice of biting‚ ready temper and dourness and utter dogmatism to the point he refuses to CONSIDER other views#is an extremely grief-stricken‚ lonely‚ stressed to hell and back man with enough emotional baggage to fill a cargo hull. Who THINKS he's#doing good‚ WANTS to do good on a large scale‚ no matter the cost‚ the burden‚ the filth he has to endlessly wash his hands of.#And that's what makes him the topic of some weird fucked up obsession of mine in spite of my simultaneous HATRED of him]#[hey here's a drink if u read this far🍻]
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Ranking the STP voices on how helpful they are
MVP:
The Paranoid ("Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves.", helps you throw The Wraith in the basement and keeps The Broken in check)
The Hunted (survival instincts, tells you how to kill The Eye of the Needle)
Doing his best:
The Stubborn (Helps in killing The Eye of the Needle keeps you alive even when your fucked)
The Hero (keeps you grounded, suggests peace in the beginning, keep The Broken from killing you)
Doing his best but it's terrible:
Opportunist (on your side sometimes but flip flops constantly)
The Skeptic (takes the blade no mater what, questions everything but his curiosity gets you locked up, can just will you to die?!)
Moral support:
Contrarian
Smitten
Your not helping:
Cheated: (teleports you to the cabin but that's about it)
Cold (is sorta just here)
Broken: (doesn't contribute much of anything other than depression
"BITCH WHAT THE FUCK?!":
Broken (gives into the tower, makes you kill yourself)
Smitten (makes you kill yourself and wants to burn with The Gray)
The Narrator in the tower ending specifically (holy shit)
#not sure why i did this#the adhd won i guess#wasn't sure what to put the hero in tbh#can't really get a good read on him for some reason (and i haven't finished the game)#so i just stuck him on 'trying his best' and called it a day#if you have any different rankings for these boys please let me know#slay the princess#voice of the hero#voice of the paranoid#voice of the opportunist#voice of the skeptic#voice of the stubborn#voice of the hunted#voice of the cold#voice of the contrarian#voice of the smitten#voice of the broken#voice of the cheated
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Hi hi !!!!,, I asked this to velli as well, but I wanna know what Narrator stereotype you've personally heard the most as well ??? If that's okay :)
I saw velli’s post so I’ll try to give a different answer, and I’m not afraid to say that *I* frequently fall under this stereotype at times. I’d say making the narrator cute innocent and clueless. No offense to anyone who does this of course, I love seeing that stuff! But I would say it seems a little bit OOC. He’s selfish, and at times sadistic. This guy would OBLITERATE Stanley at any moment just for funsies because he know it has no consequences. As much as I draw it, I don’t think he would be completely lovey dovey towards Stanley. Sure they need each other and everything, but people are forgetting to add that tension. The constant back and forth, like a strained marriage. I want nothing more than for them to be cute together and all but it would take a LOT for them to get there. And going along the lines of “they’re in a time loop forever” they might fall in and out of that kind of relationship. I miss seeing more character in the narrator besides “silly little tsundere who doesn’t know what romance is.” I’ve been thinking about tweaking my narrator design to characterize him more as well, but that’s a whole other rant lol. Probably weren’t expecting this from the cute narrator guy huh /silly
#I literally adore this game and it’s writing#It’s a masterpiece in my opinion#Especially the characterization of the narrator through his lines.#Speaking of which I’d say everyone makes Stanley’s personality entirely stubborn and sarcastic#while he *really* is just some guy.#If we’re taking Kevan’s tweets somewhat-seriously#Stanley’s quite naive and clumsy#DEFINITELY not as cool and sexy as yall are making him out to be#BUT I LOVE EVERYONES INTERPRETATIONS AND I GO CRAZY OVER THEM ALL OF THE TIME IF YOURE READING THIS AND FALL UNDER ANYTHING I WAS SAYING#PLEASE DONT CHANGE AT ALL I LOVE YOU#thinketys#Tsp
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hate that not only do am i underleveled at this game but also i suck major ass at it
#playing arknights#i just find it perpetually annoying that i can't go through the final stage of the events and finish reading the story because of either#skill issue or just my units being too weak which takes me ages to farm shit#'fishareglorious you know you can just look at the story reader website' i know but im a stubborn bastard and like going through the#gameplay as i go along with the story. but at the same time i genuinely have to look at a tutorial every damn time that it leaves#me a little too annoyed to take in the story. which then is a endless ouroboros of just feeling ass at this game.#if anyone reads this this is just a rant from someone whos been trying and failing a stage for several times now. do not come here#and tell me 'just drop the game then lmao'. i know i might.#i havent even had anyone in the base for like. three days now because i could not be assed to. so everything's just at a standstill lmao#anyways tag rant over im going outside for a chore and once i get back im playing the russian lesbians event
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THINGS!
2025 is going to be the most jam packed stressful year of my life & i know that for sure because a lot is already planned. So i WILL be an absolute mental wreck (this is apologies in advance) & i will literally be clinging onto support most likely the whole year so tumblr will either be me spamming constantly or me not here for weeks or months at a time & barely posting? i’m so unpredictable. Anyways my entire life is guaranteed to change & the best case scenario will still ruin a lot of shit for me so if i get really depressed THERE IS REASON!!!! & i’ve already made several promises so the world is stuck with me if i can help it. so uuhhhhhhhhh YEAH. ANYWAYS IM SCARED FUCKING SHITLESS LIKE ZERO SHIT SCARED OUT KF MY FUCKING MIND SO YEAH. THE MENTAL STATE WONT BE THE BEST. LOVE YOU GUYS!!! IF MY ACTIVITY IS SPOTTY IM NOT DEAD WE’RE PROBABLY JUST DISSOCIATED AS SHIT!
Anyways. TLDR i’m going to be super fucking stressed out & out of pocket for the next year because of shit.
Any friends of ours read tags pretty please <3
#new year 2025#going to be super hyperactive or stare at a wall for a week & i don’t know which one it will be yet it’s leaning towards stare at a wall#for maybe like a month. just stare at wall & cry#BUDDY REN IS NOT OKAY! BUT HANGING IN THERE!#WE COMMITTED TO HARD TO THE BIT THAT IS LIFE SO YALL ARE STUCK WITH ME LESS SUN DONT SHINE RIVERS TAKE ME DOWN!#mighhhhhht end up relapsing on the addiction but that is way better than being dead. it doesn’t have to be healthy at this point#as long as it keeps me alive & sane i guess? i’ll obviously try not to but like dark times are dark#life update#IF YOU ARE AN IRL THAT I TALK TO OFTEN & YOU NOTICE ME NOT RESPONDING TO ANYTHING OR REACHING OUT PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD REACH OUT#IM SAYING THIS NOW BECAUSE IVE BEEN INCREDIBLY SUICIDAL BEFORE & AM BEING CAUTIOUS AS HELL!!!! MENTAL STATE IS NOT A FUCKING GAME OVER HERE#LIKE IF I START SHOWING SIGNS & I AM NOT TAKING CARE OF IT ALREADY REN IS A STUBBORN BITCH & WILL REFUSE HELP BUT IM NOT PLAYING#IF SHIT STARTS GETTING CONCERNING FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE INTERVENE#LIKE OBVIOUSLY IF YOU ARENT DOING GOOD EITHER & NEED PRIORITIZE YOURSELF DO THAT!!!#BUT IF YOU ARE IN A POSITION TO HELP & CATCH ON TO ANY CONCERNING SIGNS PLEASSSSSSE DONT LET THIS BITCH TURN HELP DOWN & INTERVENE#WE WILL PROBABLY NEED ALL THE HELP WE CAN GET & ALL THE SUPPORT WE CAN ASWELL#BUT ALSO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF PLEASEEEE? DONT IGNORE YOUR OWN NEEDS#APOLOGIES IF THIS IS WORDED BAD IM NOT THE BEST WRITER THATS NOT MY JOB#SERIOUSLY LOVE YOU GUYS & IM GOING TO TRY MY HARDEST TO SUPPORT MYSELF BUT WE MIGHT NEED MORE HELP THAN WE CAN GIVE OURSELVES ALONE?#IF ANY OF THIS SHIT MAKES SENSE#MIGHT NOT? I DUNNO DM ME IF YOU WANT TO BATTLE PLAN WITH ME#THE BATTLE BEING LIFE WHILE CHANGING LITERALLY EVERYTHING & MAYBE BEING AN INTERNALLY DISPLACED REFUGEE IN THE COMING MONTHS#I LOVE YALL! UH THANKS FOR READING I GUESS? IM TIRED & GONNA SLEEP NOW#GOOD NIGHT YALL <3
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➰
#gbf#granblue fantasy#caim (gbf)#geo (gbf)#my art#i infected my friend with evoker lore and they said that geo and caim would be friends#it would probably start off rough... theyre both stubborn and dont trust easily. but their personalities really are Similar#geo might be curious abt caim being a pactbearer too... and i could see him making excuses about thats the reason he talks to caim#of course its just because they have good chemistry... also they would play board games together and geo could keep up with caim#anyway... thats all. thanks for reading if you did. rbs always appreciated over likes#i am a small artist... if u like it... rb it... thank u...
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you know, its not brought up in fics often but ted is extremely well read. he doesnt brag about it, but hes read everything from f scott fitzgerald's b sides to ayn rand's doorstoppers to the sixteen book Ender series, etc etc etc. Ted reads about as much as we see Beard reading (which. in my head is a trait that was passed on, a new focus to sharpen the mind and keep him out of trouble and his mind off drugs, something Ted offered up as a coping mechanism for when his own dad died, a way to have fun and adventure and escape without ending up in jail like Ted himself had a handful of times before, scaring the bejeezus out of his ma.)
this turned into a mini fic and i lost my train of thought but point is, Ted reads So Much and more people need to pick up on this in fics please and thank you.
#ted lasso#hes got an artistic soul!#but also anyone whos fav book is the fountainhead must be both well read and stubborn as a bull#its a slog and thats coming from someone whos read both infinite jest and les mis#im getting through it slowly but surely. mostly to stretch my story endurance before jumping into atlas shrugged#also. yes i know we have no evidence that he read all 16 ender books#but having had read them myself i know in my heart of hearts that ted absolutely finished every one of them with gusto#probably on the bus to and from games with his team back in the US#no wait hold on. he was a backup punter right? that means LOTS of time sitting on the sidelines waiting for a whole bunch of nothing#lots of time was spent watching the plays and the team and formulating im sure (which is also probably why he trusts nate so much in the#beginning. bc that used to be him sitting on the sidelines taking it all in) but also theres long stretches of no play in american football#during which he probably read like a demon to keep his grades up and keep his scholarship#so that this ma never had to worry about him away at school. He wasnt going to get into trouble anymore not like he did in high school#he had to be the man of the house and gosh darn it was he going to do it with gusto#which meant good grades and learning about life and people and spending all that free time the right way#therefore: books. an easy habit that keeps him out of trouble and keeps his mama proud. plus itd be easy to hide from coaches under his pad#if they ever had a problem with it (which im sure they would at first but once he proved he was paying attention and wormed his way in#with the team even as a reserve well. they were less eagle-eyed after that concerning the paperback-shaped lumps under his jersey)#anyway have another mini fic i guess lol#im feeling a tad verbose today
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Can I interest you all in my extremely self serving Mario and Luigi game concept featuring Gooigi and Metal Mario as alternate reality Mario Bros?
I’ve been calling it Mario and Luigi: Elementals and it sounds dumb and that’s because it is dumb
The basic premise is E. Gadd didn’t actually make Gooigi, rather Gooigi is from a Universe where everyone is made of one pure element, and Gooigi ended up in our reality on accident.
Kind of
He splatted through a portal and was pretty much all but dead or “broken” as his universe would put it, but E. Gadd of our world manged to “fix” him, bringing him back. The problem is he lost all his memories, and also can’t speak.
That was a year ago today.
The Mario Brothers are visiting Professor Elvin Gadd in his research laboratory to see his latest invention, and also learn that Stuffwell has become Gooigi’s right hand man, and can even understand his blurbly speech.
E. Gadd’s been fascinated with the portal Gooigi origonally came through for some time now, and has finally made a device that will (hopefully) open it once again. Mayhaps he can get more goo, make more Gooigis! How exciting!
If only the blasted thing worked
His device doesn’t turn on, or work at all, so he sends Mario and Luigi around the lab to fix multiple things; jumping, using the Spin/High jump moves, Mario drinks and spits water, the usual stuff all gets tutorialed at once this way until he’s finally ready to try again.
This time a massive portal opens, sucking in everything in the lab, mostly Luigi who was right next to it. Mario grabs Luigi, E. Gadd grabs Mario, Gooigi grabs E. Gadd, and Stuffwell complains about his unfinished Arm Modificationings
Mario’s grip slips, and Luigi goes flying into the portal, which then closes.
Luigi wakes up in a forest where everything is made of Rock. The Trees, the Ground, the over sized Mushroom kingdom looking mushrooms, all pure rock. Like sculptures. He looks around, calls for Mario a few times, cowars a bit, and then starts to wander, eventually coming across another research lab like E. Gadd’s
Inside is Professor Ectoplasm Gadd, a gooy translucent, almost ghostly like version of Professor E. Gadd, along with Rock Toads; Toads made purely or unpolished, rough rocks.
Ecto Gadd looks up from his machine that is very much like E. Gadd’s portal machine, and immediately starts making a ruckus about Luigi’s Return. He sends the Rock Toads off to “Go get his brother!” and starts marveling at Luigi’s new unique make-up, asking what he’s made of now, and apologizing for the accident.
Luigi Italianese babbles that he has no idea what Ecto Gadd is talking about and starts explaining the portal, when the door breaks down.
“Goodness! I know you haven’t seen eachother for a year now but you didn’t have to break my door!”
Metal Mario puts the door down to the side gently and approaches Luigi, looks him all over, takes a few steps back, and then punches a random machine, destroying it.
It takes a few moments for the shock to were off and for Luigi to notice Metal Mario is really broken up over his missing brother. Luigi does his best to comfort him, a little There There back pat turned into a spine crushing hug from Metal Mario.
Ecto Gadd realizes this is the Wrong Luigi and explains the portal machine, and how he’d been working on it ever sense Goo Luigi went missing. Luigi recognizes “Goo Luigi” as probably being Gooigi, which Metal Mario responds to by grabbing Luigi by his overall straps, picking him off the ground, and shaking him in a “You know where me brother is???? Where??? Take me to him!!!” kind of way.
Ecto Gadd says he can get the portal open again, but he needs more power for his machine to work and stabilize the portal, so he sends Luigi and Metal Mario off to the Plasma Kingdom together.
This is where gameplay starts and also my story concept kind of ends, so this is just all my thoughts mashed together now
You play as two sets of Bros through most the game (this first mission has them mixed up, but eventually swaps them back correctly); Mario and Luigi, and Gooigi and Metal Mario.
Mario plays the same as usual Mario games, High Attack and Speed, Low Defense and Health, if you don’t watch him he’ll become a Glass Canon
Luigi also plays the same, High Defense and Health, Low Attack and Speed, a random extra bit of Stache, might fall behind Mario if you’re not careful
Metal Mario plays sort of like an Extreme Luigi, with wild high defense and stupid slow, but he also hits like a truck with a crazy attack stat. He’ll go after everything else, but he will also likely kill it all in one hit. Also his and Gooigi’s Stache stat is called Sheen and might cause enemies to miss, rather than they randomly get lucky hits. They’re shiny.
Gooigi in turn is like an Extreme Mario, Wicked speed and abysmal defense, but with no attack to back it up. Instead, almost all of Gooigi’s basic attacks inflict status; Poison, Sleep, and Stuck (a Gooigi exclusive status in which the enemy is stuck in goo and can’t move), making him more of a set up for Metal Mario than his own attacker.
You switch between the two groups on set story beats as they traverse eachother’s worlds; Our usual Bros in the new Element lands, and the Element Bros in the usual Mushroom Kingdom worlds. Think like Bowser’s Inside Story meets the Peach sections of the Paper Mario games.
Mario and Luigi can do their usual jumps, the spin and high jumps, they cannot be separated, and eventually get the elemental Fire and Thunder attacks from Super Star Saga, and the Bros Ball from Partner’s in Time. These are also their Bros Attacks. No more shell or fire flower or weird surprise tube I hate those things.
Metal Mario and Gooigi get the hammer abilities, Metal Mario can smash Gooigi over the head to make him small and fit into small spaces and Metal Mario can drill into the ground to get beans. The two can be separated, usually when Metal Mario explores the ocean floor, as Gooigi dissolves in water and Metal Mario sinks.
I can’t decide what Metal Mario and Gooigi’s bros attacks will be. The main thing with them is they’ve been separated for a full year, and Gooigi’s memories are still missing, so they’re not as in-sync as the normal Bros are. Maybe they can have Bros Items from Partner’s in Time?
They’re a lot like the babies from Partner’s in Time I think, more immature and juvenile in my head. Metal Mario constantly forgets his own strength and breaks things on accident, and Gooigi is eager to help anyone who’ll give him a task. They’re both childishly curious about the world around them.
The twist would be someone sent Gooigi through that portal on purpose to get rid of him. I’m thinking a version of King Boo from this Elemental Dimension, but I haven’t thought on it too hard just yet. Maybe Ecto Gadd did it. That’d be fun.
Rose Gold Peach is there and she’s called Rose Gold Peach not Pink Gold Peach I hate that name she is Rose Gold and she’s a lot like Metal Mario in that she forgets her own strength a lot and ends up hurting regular Mario in funny slapstick ways just by interacting with him a lot.
The previously mentioned Plasma Kingdom is the Element Lands version of the Koopa Kingdom. I’ve been trying to decide if I want Bowser to be just pure Fire or not. Magma Bowser maybe? Where some of his upper layer has cooled so he looks like Bowser’s Fury Bowser in color scheme? The Goombas are wooden because I think that’s funny.
I also think the Elemental Bowser and Mario have a much more extreme rivalry compared to our usual duo. Where Mario and Bowser can square off every here and there and then also play tennis, the Elemental Mario and Bowser will fight to the death if squared off together. This Bowser also doesn’t have the Romantic Feelings for Peach to soften him, he wants her just as dead as he wants Mario.
His only soft spot then would be Bowser Jr., who I don’t know if he should be included because it feels like too many main story characters, but he’d be made of paint, and be gooy and fragile like Gooigi, this why Bowser, a Magma/Rock being, is so protective of his soft son.
Finally, I want Wario and Waluigi to be a sort of Rival Encounter to Metal Mario and Gooigi, Like Mid bosses that show up every other big event a little stronger than previously, sense they’re extreme versions Mario and Luigi, much like this version of Gooigi and Metal Mario are.
#Mario#Emile's Writings#Mario and Luigi#Should I give this a bunch of tags actually? It's just a lotta nothing#I have very specific animations and scenes in my head#But also like very particular game play as well#I know Mario&Luigi is dead I just really enjoy them#Can you tell Partner's in time is my favorite? I want another Partner's in Time SO badly#My main concept is the Regular Bros have BP while the Element Bros don't but I dunno what to replace that number with#but I was watching Mario Kart gameplay yesterday and the stiff way Metal Mario moves and his voice enraptured me#I like him I want him to be his own guy and I think he'd be a fun counter to Gooigi#I've had spesifically the way Metal Mario works in battle in my head for a while now actually#but for Wario#Like if Wario and Waluigi were in a M&L game they'd be Extreme Opposites of Mario and Luigi#But I could never figure out the rest#I have more I'll eventually do with this I'm sure I just wanted to put it down now while I'm still thinking on it#Thanks for reading if you did. You're a real one.#Edit: Adding more because I'm always adding more#The elements are meant to be like. Indicative of personality#So like Mario's kinda stubborn and wreckless and never gives up thus a hard element like metal#While Luigi is very much made of softer stuff and is a rather fluid character#As he kind of forms to whatever Nintendo needs him to be in the moment#Tumblr ate the rest of my tags rude.#Check the reblog for all my thoughts
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