#but can you really blame me. look at this thing. its model came with a built-in platform for it to exist on. a big white cube

[melodic-haze]

What if breeding and overstimulating Ei? Fucking her through her orgasm and continuing to fuck your dick into her abused hole, fucking your cum deeper into her pussy to make sure she takes all of it....

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Ei x dom!amab!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Reader with a dick, dumbification

☆ — NOTES: Blame Miko 🤷‍♀️ but also I've been wanting to write Ei and/or Miko for so long THANK YOU ANON

Put me and her in a room and I'm not gonna be the one coming out pregnant just saying 🫶

Realistically this is probably (definitely) Miko's fault for getting into her head, but she had lent her a book that she didn't realise was.....less than innocent

It was a novel that described some rather salacious scenes that had Ei go from confused to surprised to flustered.. and then to that feeling of neediness welling inside her. It's got her thinking of you and what you can do to her, which then eventually led to her personally seeking you out for a bit of a 'reading session' 🥰

Mini thought dump so if you don't wanna read then skip this point. Ok as someone who loves getting into logistics and how things would work hypothetically, I find this situation funny bc like. If Ei can model her body to whatever she wants it to be bc it's synthetic, which means taking out whatever she deems unnecessary, then would she have a reproductive system? Would she deem it important?? Would you even have anything to insert yourself into or is she just. Cursedly smooth

Anyway thought dump over, sorry for the crisis even though you were expecting 🌽. MOVING ON

It's hard to believe that the woman you're dicking down is Inazuma's very own revered Archon when the one you've got underneath you at this moment looks so unbelievably fucked out and far off: eyes clouded and rolling to the back of her head, fingers digging into the sheets, mouth glistening with a mix of your saliva and the drool on the corner of her mouth, hair out of its normal braid and surrounding her like some kind of purple aura

And that's not even accounting the occasional spark of electro here and there to which she had initially apologised for. Though that was before she became all dumb and lost all sense of thought and responsibility, her mind practically turned to mush as you keep on pistoning her relentlessly. Now she's just REALLY unaware of anything and everything else but you and how good you make her feel. Everything else is just SO overwhelming for her little brain 😞😞😞😞

"I-- I'm c-cumming again, I-- feel the--"

"'s okay, baby," you groaned out, putting her legs above your shoulders as you moved within her, "you can cum."

It will never cease to amaze you, how your words had such an effect on the strongest figure in all of Inazuma, especially when your words get her to react so very intensely—her insides squeeze you like a vice as her hips lift off the bed in an attempt to get you as close to the base as possible.. or at least, she tries to.

Despite all that strength she has, all it takes you is a press down onto her abdomen as a way to both keep her hips down and to add more pressure on her and suddenly she's all pliant. The poor girl can't even scream—she was never really the type to—so when she opens her mouth, she doesn't make a sound as you push your hips into her in a particular way before stilling your movements as you came inside for.. who knows how many times it's been?

The amount of cum that spills out from her pussy despite your cock practically plugging it shut is enough of a giveaway that you've been at it for a while though.

..But you find that you don't really care when you start up all over again, not giving her enough time to come down from her high and overwhelming her completely.

You act out whatever she saw on that book of hers: the poses, the positions, the angles, whatever she thought was interesting to her. She used her lack of present knowledge to her advantage too—she had asked you for a proper demonstration, seeing as how she had been trapped in the PoE for the longest time so she fears she's not all that familiar with these.. new words or phrases!!

Half of it was true but other half of it was her just trying to lure you. And it worked so 🤷‍♀️ fair game

You make sure to stuff her silly with all of you, scooping up what drips out and stuffing it back in to make sure that nothing goes wasted. That proves to be a hard task as you proceed though because throughout your many rounds and the actual breaks in between, there IS a limit to how much she can have inside her so it's inevitable that it'd spill

Not like the sight isn't great, it's actually the opposite—just seeing YOUR own cum practically overflow in her pussy like that? FUCK just the thought of her insides being painted white because of you??? It's the way that if you pressed down on her abdomen without your cock clogging her entrance, it'd gush out in streams.......ohhhhgoodness

Your lover stares down absentmindedly at her pussy, hole agape and very much abused and so so so filled up and stained and whatever it is she could think of to describe it. Such warmth was inside her, the feeling of being full never quite leaving her—not as if it ever could for a good while, when you've filled her with so much cum that it's spilling without anything to prevent its escape from within her.

She had designed this body with the thought of only keeping necessary systems on the design for optimal use in upkeeping eternity and avoiding erosion. Why she had designed it with erogenous areas in mind? The reason eludes her, but now not only does Ei thank herself from going through with it, she is lamenting the lack of a complete reproductive system.

While becoming pregnant would.. pose for mixed results during her planned time to make amends to the nation for running away and keeping a narrow mind on what eternity could mean, she had wondered how the session would have felt with such capabilities. Would it have felt better? The same? Worse?

..Perhaps she will take a note to reassess the Shogun's model later.

Zooweemama by GOD I need her, end of story good night all

[gyumibear]

💖 create a sim(p)! — 25: rough

synopsis — after stupidly claiming on stream that you’ve been dating popular youtuber choi beomgyu in secret after accidentally creating an identically looking sim, you beg him not to reveal your lie to the public when it goes viral. weirdly, he agrees and you two begin to fool the public. can your lie become the truth or will it eventually catch up with you?

prev / masterlist / next

warnings — swearing + heavy angst, bad coping mechanisms, yn's not thinking things through. allusions to “suicide”, but there’s no suicide. (wc: ~1.4k)

It was like time had stopped.

Your eyes were glued to the screen in front of you, the blue light reflected in your eyes. Long had the screen gone black, evidence of the ended stream in front of you. You could vaguely feel Yeonjun’s presence next to you, but the ringing in your ears subjected you to only be able to stare forward. 

Why. Why? Why?!

Beomgyu. Why would he- why? It was so hard to fathom; what could he have been thinking? Did he really think everything would be fixed after that? That everything wouldn’t fall apart even more than it already had?! Now, you were off even worse than before.

He was selfish.

So unbelievably selfish. Because he couldn’t ‘keep up the charade.’ No. He wasn’t selfish. He was a fucking liar. A manipulator. Going out of his way to make sure that everything would leave him looking like the victim. The way he worded the stream, blaming everything on you. The fake dating had been your idea, yes, but he was just as involved! He didn’t have to agree! He could’ve fucking said no! No, he only sold you out because… Because… Because?

You didn’t know.

“Hey…” Warmth enveloped your torso, Yeonjun’s strong, assuring arms wrapping around you. “Come on, let’s go to the kitchen.”

You just let him drag you along, not having the mental capacity to fight back.

He released you when you plopped into the barstool of the hotel’s island counter. Crossing behind the other side of the island, he reached into the fridge to find something. You didn’t know what. You weren’t exactly focused on the black-haired model in front of you. You were too occupied calling Beomgyu every negative adjective conceivable in your head.

A crisp bottle of water slid in front of you, your eyes unfocused on its shape.

“You should drink this. Tears cause dehydration, you know…” Yeonjun spoke softly from somewhere in the room.

You were crying? You hadn’t noticed.

“I’m really sorry, Yn…” He kept speaking, barely making it past the ringing. “He’s so… Stupid.”

Stupid was an understatement.

“How bad is it?” Your own strained voice.

“How bad is what?”

“The backlash… Am I trending?”

“I don’t know… Don’t worry about that right now.”

“What am I supposed to worry about then, Jun? My career… Shit, what am I supposed to do to fix it? Everyone thinks I’m a liar. A user.”

“Not everyone.” Arms again around your body, you nuzzled your back into his chest. “We can fix this.”

“We?” You asked. “Jun, you don’t have to help me. We barely know each other.”

“That doesn’t matter. You’re my friend… And this is sort of my fault.”

No. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but Beomgyu’s.

“If I hadn’t gotten so close to you–”

“Can we talk about something else… I just– My head is pounding.”

A lie. You currently felt nothing. But, you didn’t want Yeonjun to have to dwell on feelings that were not his fault. Nobody was to blame for this, but Beomgyu. He was the problem. He was the cause.

“Drink your water.” He scolded you lightly, “I told you tears cause dehydration…”

–

“We came straight here.” Soobin stepped into view before your vision became obscured.

Kai threw himself at you, his familiar hold making you tear up once again. He squeezed you firmly, but not enough to hurt. Just enough to comfort. He murmured apologies, ones he shouldn’t be making, holding you as you’d disappear into the ground if he let go of you just for a second. You had a feeling he’d be mother-henning you for the next few days if he wasn’t stopped. 

You didn’t think you’d argue against that. Not right now anyway.

“Thank you for taking care of her.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” Yeonjun responded in kind, “You must be Soobin.”

Soobin nodded, pointing slightly in your direction. “And that’s Kai.” 

When Kai finally let you breathe, you pulled back enough to see that his eyes were red. Probably matching yours. But his face wasn’t streaked with tears, not like yours. That led you to the conclusion that he probably hadn’t slept since the stream came out. Oh, Kai…

“Ning, have you slept?” 

“No. How could I?” He pursed his lips before speaking again. This time not to you. “What do we do?”

“We go home,” Soobin shrugged. “We kick that… We kick him out. Then you and Yn get some rest.”

You and Kai nodded solemnly, both not wanting to argue.

“I hate to ask, but can I come? I feel like I and Beomgyu have a lot to talk about.”

“Mm.. ‘s up to you.” Soobin shrugged again. “As long as he gets out of my house.”

You felt like the next few hours might take some years off your life.

–

Coward.

He was a coward. That was what your mind told you when the four of you had made it to your front door. The house was intact, doors locked securely. But… There was a sticky note, most likely from your room, left right dab smack in the middle of the door. It read: I’m sorry. I took all my stuff and I got a motel. I know you don’t want to speak with me, that’s okay. I’ll be going home soon anyway.

“Well, that’s that I guess.” Yeonjun broke the silence, all of you turning to look at him.

“Maybe it’s better off this way.” Soobin turned to unlock the door for you all. “I don’t think anyone was really ready for a confrontation.”

You stumbled into the apartment behind him, Kai and Yeonjun taking up the rear. Everything inside was normal too. Nothing out of place or taken, not that you thought he would steal. However, you thought bitterly to yourself, you thought Beomgyu wouldn’t do a lot of things. Clearly, this time of you getting to know him was a waste. God, you had the worst case of judgment sometimes.

“So what now?”

The boys started chatting, trying to figure out the next move. You tried your best to listen along, but you just… couldn’t. The longer you stood there, the more your mind was being made up. Soon, you excused yourself from the circle, complaining of a headache. ‘Just going to lie down.’ You spoke. Their worried eyes bore into your back as you disappeared into your room.

You were going to crumple into your bed, but your tired eyes noticed something first. A letter. It was laid neatly on your bed, words written almost neatly, but also as if whoever had written them was rushed. You were going to ignore it, but you knew your curiosity would win. It was a human thing.

You picked it up, letting your eyes glide over the words. Face neutral, your eyes took in every word but widened over time as an indescribable rage filled you. You got to the last line of the letter, letting you know who had written you this bullshit of a final letter. ‘Love, Beomgyu.’ 

You crumpled it into a ball, throwing it into a corner of your room. Full of shit. He was full of shit. How could you have ever thought he could’ve really meant something to you? He was nothing.

And soon, /you’d/ be nothing too.

You made your way over to your computer, typing in the website for your streams. Scrolling until you found what you were looking for, your eyes bore into your screen. It was like time was moving slowly again, as your conscious tried desperately to get you to stop before making the worst decision of your life. But, you were determined to finish this. 

You had to. You couldn’t back down. You clicked your mouse once, mind made up.

The recording light lit up, letting you know you were now live.

As your chat filled, you heard an audible sound of confusion come from your living room. You forgot Kai had your streaming notifications on. You had to move quicker than he could get to you. You ran to the door, locking it before your friends could come to stop you. 

You could hear the banger from the door. You could hear them. Soobin loudly asking what you were doing. Kai begging you to open the door. Yeonjun pleading that you stop recording and come out the door. You couldn’t let them stop you. Not this time. You knew you might regret this, but soon /you/ wouldn’t be around to care.

“Hi.” You spoke bluntly into the camera. “Welcome to DigitalGirl’s final stream.”

a/n — so... how y'all doing? *sips tea* um, i’m not exactly good at writing super angsty stuff, but i hope y’all still enjoyed! anyways, what do y’all think the letter said? and what do you think yn’s gonna do/say in her “final” stream? lmk!

© GYUMIBEAR. do not repost, modify or translate my work onto other social media sites.  

[blazescompendium]

Detail on Vouivre's Kaneko design that made me enjoy it even more.

One of the things Kaneko's Vouivre was missing was her singular jewel that usually comes with her myths. This jewel is a Carbuncle, an unique type of gemstone that came specifically from the Vouivre.

All her powers, and even her vision are tied to this gemstone which is said to burn hot and shine. It is described as more valuable than gold and it is sought after by humans, who try to hunt the elusive Vouivre.

I talked about it in more depth on my post about the myth

This gemstone is the source of most of the lore involving the Vouivre. It is often depicted in her forehead or being her only eye and source of vision.

For years, Kaneko's Vouivre made me unconfortable because it lacked this feature... That is until i looked closer! You see, Vouivre from SMT does have this gemstone! Look closer!

The left eye has no pupil, if you look closely it looks exactly like a gemstone. It looks like a garnet, which matches the description of the carbuncle!

If you did not noticed it, i don't blame you. The low quality of the 2D art we have been used to makes it very difficult to spot. Also, it does not help that the old Devil Summoner Vouivre design lacked this feature. This appeared on her Soul Hackers redesign, which now i quite like!

Low quality rip, but you can see her both eyes are just eyes!

What made me notice this feature is that Vouivre's jewel eye actually shines a bit in her SMT V Vengeance 3D model! It is very hard to spot due to her movements, and the lame fact that you can not approach too much of demon models in the Demon Haunts feature. (Feature that i really loved)

This faint glow on her left eye caught my attention, and made me realise that this design is actually good!

I noticed that during the Vouivre questline, which is also inspired by her lore. Not to spoil, but you have to help a Bethel agent to steal Vouivre's gem at this sidequest, while she is bathing. Exactly like her folktales.

Just let her bathe for fuck's sake...

I really liked this detail, and it would not be possible to spot if it was not by Vengeance amazing focus on Demons. The lack of this feature was my main problem with vanilla V, and i have been in tons of fun with this game for the past month. Sadly i can't play it a lot, but its specifically demon quests are love letters for those who like this topic. At least for the most part, they still got a lot wrong too.

[notnights]

i think.... my top 3 personal favs is 3. looming jax with his ears pressed against the wall: a cute detail! but also i like him cornering gangle/intimidating her and i also like those type of sketches you do!! messy and chaotic (positive), alot to look at and notice in those pieces! 2. jax falling in love with a idiot (gangle): its simple but i love jax expression there!! ahhh... its so good.. i love gangle having calm/simple expressions and jax having extreme emotions/expressions, its a nice contrast! 1. gangle with the npc figurine: a completely different/creative take on "the figurine thing"!! like.. many things to be implied woaw.. i generally think about gangle asking caine for a proper body model she can puppeter and he hands her one of those things, just to feel more? normal/humanoid..? 4 of the cast have humanoid bodies, kinger and gangle kinda being the odd one outs but even so kinger has hands/eyes 'human' things theres also the thought about her cuddling with this thing or experimenting with it haha (i think its canon she has a body pillow??) even if its like.. a joke that weebs have body pillows/ it could also mean shes starve-touched too or looks for physical comfort i would assume, with her sad mask making her passive to do things, she probably shys away from hugging/asking for a comfort, so falls back to her figurine (imagining it as probably ragatha comforting her? or jax if i wanna be bias) ^^^ but anyways! its a nice colored piece! i love gangles lil panicked pose and of course jax being presented there along with his comment...... its peak., sorry if this is alot!!! i thought it'd be a nice addition to include what i like about it! love seeing your ribbun artwork!!

Aw hey thanks this made my day.

1). As a friend once said to me "Jax looks good looming over people."

As a cartoon I like to think a lot of his motions have that closeness that slapstick cartoons have. I LOVE these kind of poses.

And try to push-the-pose most with Jax compared to the others to show off his toony nature but I don't think I'm very good at it yet.

2). Haha glad you like that one, I just took the expressions from the original meme though. So not much creativity on my part. Good excuse to draw a happy Gangle.

3). The inspiration for that piece was actually because the interpretation came up during a conversation with @canterbury-bell. I love the idea of Gangle being a little bit of a weirdo one way or another. Maybe she asked Caine for an artist reference originally.

I want to leave what she was doing with that thing up to interpretation but yeah actually! I like to think she wraps around it, makes it a pseudo-skeleton and puppets it around to feel more human and "solid". Which is weird but you can't really blame her! Might not be the only thing she does with it but that's the big one, and probably what she used as defense a when Jax found it but he implies more and Ragatha might have some concerning judgements about it. Especially if uhhh it is/was an active NPC.

Ah look what you've made me do, talk about a one-off joke as if it has depth!

The particular wording was "had" in that answer about the body pillow iirc. Which made me think she had one in the real world but doesn't in the DC. The other option being she did have one in the Circus too, but for whatever reason doesn't anymore.

Its nice to hear you like my ribbunies. I usually just assume I'm off-putting to others for it. Haven't gotten to draw it a whole lot lately due to trying to let my hand heal from whatevers wrong with it and when I do I can only draw so much. You can have some very early ribbun sketches I did for now. (I think I've posted some of these but not all of them.)

[blackwolfstabs]

Parker's Secret Santa Gifts🎄for @silliestgoosever

HAUNTED

"Even wolves bleed like sheep..."

fandom: Scream // Epiphany AU by @silliestgoosever // (parker's version) characters: Sam Carpenter, Christina Carpenter, & Tara Carpenter WARNING: contains angst, minor gore, & verbal abuse

Sam hissed as the warm steam from her shower cleared to let the cold air of the air conditioning burn her right eye. Her blind eye… 

It seemed like she got soap in that eye every fucking time she took a shower. It seemed like every time she “got used to” being blind in that eye, something would rip her back to reality, cursing her with how it got that way and all the damage that she’d suffered with it.

It never got easier to re-live. The fight, the words, the curses, the blame, the guilt, the pain… All the pain that her mother had caused. Physically, mentally, emotionally—all of it. It never got easier.

She pulled a comb through her hair, before grabbing a dry washcloth to press it against her stinging eye. If Christina was going to take half of her vision away, she should’ve taken the nerves with it too. It watered against the contact, making her grit her teeth as she wiped it and tried to blink away the sting.

“You’re pathetic!” 

A voice—a very familiar voice—hissed behind her.

Sam froze. Her heart skipped into a race, and she felt every muscle in her body tense. All of it. All of it hit her like a hurricane at once. It was the Cat-5- kind of hurricane that destroyed everything in its path in a single second and left the tragedy behind. It had winds that howled the foulest of words and rain that downed out even the loudest, most desperate screams. It was ruthless and held no remorse in the strength that it held. 

And that hurricane was named Christina Carpenter. 

She swallowed, not realizing that she was shaking, until it was pointed out.

“You always trembled when I was around,” the teasing began. “I always thought it was out of anger, but now that I know just how much of a coward you are, the truth really was that you were scared of me.”

She could hear her own breath shudder as she stared at the wall.

“You’re scared of me, aren’t you, Samantha? Just like you were afraid of your father, when you started having visions of him.”

She sounded so evil. So vile . So savagely in love with the idea of making her own daughter suffer for the decisions her parents made.

“Turn around and face me, Loomis ! You’ve still got one good eye, I know you can see me!” There was a fleeting moment of tense silence, before the woman growled, “Let me see that reward I gave you for showing me who you really are…”

How could she turn around after hearing that? What was she, a sad, obedient dog that did whatever her master wanted, no matter how demeaning, infuriating, or humiliating? Yes. She must be, because the next thing she knew, she was staring at herself in the mirror with her mother’s mirrored eyes glaring at her in disgust and prideful hatred.

She was standing right behind her. She was standing there, like she was some fashion designer that had just groomed their chosen model for a show. Some show… It was a horror show that left Sam’s stomach churning with nausea.

But she couldn’t look away. And Christina just grinned.

“Look how weak… how despicable…” Her hand came up to lightly graze over her daughter’s eye, “How revealing…”

Sam yanked her face away, flames of shock setting her body on fire as she felt the touch, as if she wasn’t dead and actually standing right behind her. However, her shoulders were grabbed and held in place, and the manifested woman snarled.

“Look at yourself, Samantha!”

And she reluctantly did so, thick blood covering the entire right side of her face and the lower left side, running into her blind eye, which seemed to sting a thousand times more than the soap did. She had to fight back a cry of pain as it dripped off her chin and onto the bathroom floor, leaving her world to regress back to that night. She couldn’t stop the tears that flooded into her eyes at the disbelief. 

No. This wasn’t real. It was her doing all of this.

She tried to wipe some of the blood from her cheek, but nothing came off on her hand. The pain was there, the touch was there, the voices and the haunting looks were there, but the real world wasn’t.

It was all because of her.

“Y-you’re not real,” she finally managed to speak. “You’re only in my head, just like he was.”

But her mother denied it. “Oh, I’m very real. Who else could’ve done this?” She hummed as she snaked her hands around the younger’s waist and grabbed the hem of her shirt. “I carved you up nicely, didn’t I?”

Sam swallowed back the nausea threatening to crawl up her throat. She nearly gasped at how cold the woman’s fingertips were as they curved beneath her clothing and brushed her warm skin.

“Even wolves bleed like sheep…”

Christina pulled her shirt up to expose the other scar she’d cursed her with, which was now gushing blood, just like her face was. Then, she took one hand and dipped two fingers into the crimson liquid to start drawing over her bare stomach.

Sam’s tears fell. She shook in her mother’s hold, paralyzed and unable to fight back small whimpers as she watched the blood trail being made on her torso, like a map of death. “No…”

“Yes.” The older Carpenter leaned in close to her ear. “Let those tears fall. Show me just how miserable it is to live with these scars on your body, blood on your hands, me in your head, and Billy in your heart.”

“No!” The victim managed to break the spiritual spectrum for a moment, ripping the hands away from her abdomen and pulling herself out of the hovering presence that held her captive. She looked over her shoulder, and there was nothing there. She dropped her gaze to her torso, and it was free of smeared blood. But when she met the mirror, Christina was still there with her glowing eyes that were full of insanity, bloodlust, and hatred for the one staring back at her—her own daughter.

“You can’t escape it, Samantha. No matter how hard you try, I will always be in every dark corner of your mind.”

The terror that she felt so strongly only seconds ago was drowned by a river of lava that burned fear to ashes and left nothing but rage and resentment. “I already got rid of one person who tried to control me—”

“You got lucky that time,” she cut her off. “Your mother, who you knew all your life until that night, isn’t that easy to ignore, and you know it. That’s why you can’t look away from what I’ve made of you. You can’t get rid of me.”

Sam stared her mother down, seething while her right eyelid twitched. It made her enemy chuckle. And that infuriated her. How dare she? That woman could mock her all she wanted. She was dead , so the war was already won. “I won’t beg you anymore,” she growled coldly. “Stay out of my life.”

Those 5 simple words combined in that simple sentence made Christina’s eyes go cold—colder than they already were. Then they lit up with hatred. Even though she was just a reflection in the mirror, she lunged forward. “You’re nothing, you hear me?! Nothing but a Loomis!” she screamed so loud that the reflective glass seemed to shake on the wall. “You know that you’re just like me, you’re just like Billy, and you know damn well that you’ll end up killing Tara, too! Your sister, the only person who could ever love you!”

“Liar!” her daughter bit back. That was the quickest response she could get out. She was rabid with insulted rage. She was already partially blind, but she couldn’t even see straight at this point. All she saw was red, and it wasn’t because of blood, this time. She was sick of being yelled at, and accused, and ripped apart by the tormentors who were biologically her own parents. Fuck that. She had endured too much. She didn’t want to take it anymore. “You’re wrong, Tara means everything to me! I would never fucking hurt her!”

“Did you forget? You already have.”

Sam’s blood went from fire to ice at the realization. She had hurt her. By leaving… She left all those years ago, and that was why Tara got hurt in the first place… to get her to come back to Woodsboro.

Christina chuckled. “You see? We’re the same, you and me.”

No. Fuck that. Things had changed. She loved Tara. And Tara loved her. “We’re nothing alike!” the younger Carpenter spat. “You’re pure evil!”

“Maybe. But I’m also dead… which means you can’t stop me.”

Every thing she said, there was a comeback. Every defense had an offense. Every truth had a dare.

“The day will come when you’ll hold Tara’s dead body in your arms, and there will be no second chances, no more I-love-yous, no more trust, and no more Sam Carpenter. Just Samantha Loomis.”

It was so painful. Sam didn’t think she had ever been as tense as she was right at this moment. Lies. All she could think of was the word lies . She wanted to say more. She wanted to argue. She wanted to rip out her tongue and shove it down her throat so far that she could grab a hold of her intestines and pull them back up and apart from what held them in place. 

But she was dead. So, there was nothing she could do but take it.

Christina knew her daughter was totally defenseless, looking like she was about to burst into tears again. And that thrilled her. It was refreshing and empowering, just like that night. Every time Tara was mentioned, it got to Sam deeply and emotionally. 

It was priceless. 

“You can never give her what she needs.”

Something snapped. Sam could feel it inside her. She went blind, totally blind as a guttural scream echoed off the drywall and her fist was thrown into the mirror.

Cracks.

Then shattered glass.

All in the blink of an eye.

The sound of shards falling from their placement, into the sink, and all over the floor snapped Sam out of her rabid trance. She was panting, her left-eyed vision settling on her fist that was still jammed into the mirror. Her arm was trembling and she could see fresh blood starting to accumulate on her knuckles. 

Christina was gone. The pain and the threats were gone. It was just her in the bathroom, alone, her damp hair bringing cooler temperatures to her face, while the realization that she had just punched the mirror and broke it processed in her head.

—

Tara threw the door to her room open and made it to the bathroom door, which was still shut. She knew Sam had been taking a shower, but the sound of an animalistic scream and glass shattering overpowered the music coming through her headphones. She knocked on it. “Sam?”

There was no answer. 

“Sammy, are you okay?”

Still nothing.

This made her anxiety rush in with no hesitation. She didn’t even bother to try again as she let herself in, nearly busting the door open. “Sam—” She froze only a step into the room.

Sam was sitting on the floor with shattered pieces of the mirror scattered all around her. Her head was hung, and she was holding her hand—her right hand. 

“Sam…?” Tara wanted to go to her sister’s side, but she didn’t have any shoes on, and the tile was littered with small pieces that could easily get stuck in her feet. 

Sam finally looked up from staring at the ground. It was slow and almost eerie the way she did it, but the relief that came over her little sister’s face when she realized that she was conscious and could hear her pulled her out of the shocked trance. Somewhat, at least…

As much as locking eyes made her nerves tempted to settle, the younger Carpenter was nearly horrified at the loss of control she must’ve experienced that caused her to break the mirror. “What are you doing?” her voice almost cracked as she said it.

Great. After all of that, she had just scared Tara. She swore she’d never be someone her baby sister didn’t want to be around, yet here she was, surrounded by her own unstable, toxic behavior. 

No. That wasn’t her. That was Christina trying to take her by the reins and control who she wanted her to be.

But she had to be honest.

“I’m fine, Tara,” she assured her. Her voice was quiet and tired with a small rasp from her previous yelling. Then, she looked away. “She, uh…” Her scarred-up face stared back at her in one of the large pieces of reflective glass. “It wasn’t real…”

She was still confused though… “What wasn’t real?”

The witch’s horrid design on her face was what held Sam’s attention. She hadn’t been real, but she had felt like it. The words, the blood, the touching. Being a canvas was something that still made her feel sick to her stomach. 

“Sammy?”

“Our mother…”

Tara blinked from her older sister to the glass on the floor, and then to the place where the mirror used to be. At first, she didn’t understand, but then it all made sense. “You saw a vision of her?” she asked, feeling confident in the answer but wanting to hear it for herself.

However, Sam shook her head. “It wasn’t a vision, Tara…” She watched the blood trickle down her knuckles.

“...it was a nightmare, while I was still awake.”

merry christmas josey! it was a pleasure to write something from your AU. i hope you enjoy it 🎄✨🎁

- parker (BWS)

[not-goldy]

Right now there are a lot of ex tkk out there who left after Paris. Some of who wrote little to late apologies to Jimin for believing he was the devil/villain, when now they realize that title belongs to the big TK accounts who hand fed them lies. The ones who helped brain wash them & half this fandom & harass everyone. They swallowed that pill & accepted their ship is not real and Paris actually happened. Now they're just sitting around alone cause the people they thought were their friends turned their back on them for seeing the light. These people could do the funniest thing right now, the right thing. Those TK GC's and twitter spaces they were a part of and saved. Full of Tkk & big Tk accounts slandering Jimin & plans to sabotage him and vile lies they made up to spread and openly hated on Jk cause they were mad at him, spearheaded by those active TK accounts. They could email them to bighit. DM the screenshots they held onto, to Jimin and Jikook report accounts. Get these big TK and anti accounts taken down. They were on the inside and know first hand things said in private in those space. How manipulated they were and seeing how its continuing.

Their own leader, told them models called Tae Monsieur Gayhyung in Paris, only for the models to say it was disgusting lies. Instead of admitting he lied on purpose cause he didn't think these people would release statements, he let you all take the blame and look like deranged fools for spreading it and deactivated and came back a few weeks later like nothing happened and you let him. The person creates lies every day and You help spread them. Then the person deactivates cause they can't take the heat and you take the fall and he gains new braindead followers when they come back.

I know It'll never happen tho cause they aren't brave. I on the other hand would be a raging bitch, the whistleblower and expose the fuck out of every damn one of them MF's who helped gaslit me.

I HAVE THREE LARGE BREASTS AND A TAIL.

I'm alway prepared to recieve new Jikook believers into my large bossom and feed them with content 😌

They can start with @nightswithkookmin

And if they want to interact they'll find me here.

I'm open to receiving their confessions about Jikook in my ask box. Shit if it's good I'll even share it so everyone can read it.

If it's triggering and full of doubt I'll send them straight to purgatory.

Tuktukkers are indeed very much manipulated and gaslit into believing things they shouldn't believe if they had a little bit of brain cells in their skulls.

Like it's that simple, you don't even need analysis you just need to use your head, if you believe no two relationships are equal then you'd rightfully assume there must be something unique and special about every ship. Start by individualizing every ship. Start there and if you don't that's how the madness begin.

And if you believe TKk and JKK are two Unique ships- what sets them apart? You don't find this out if you succumb to the prevalent cognitive roadblocks prevalent in TKK land. To find that out what makes them each truly Unique, desist from minimizing, trivializing, overlooking, going against your instincts and going against common sense. One plus one is two. If it she's a duck it's a duck. You don't need to bend and twist and squeeze your brain out.

The common truth and fact of the matter is, however "close" TKK were in the past,however they try to be close now, Jikook are closer. That ship has sailed. However jikook try to normalize that closeness, neutralize it, do damage control- it really doesn't change the fact that out of all BTS pairs they have the most chemistry, are and do come across as the most intimate because you simply can't hide intimacy if it's there between two people.

It shows in everything they do and say.

It's like whatever Vmin have. You can't minimize it. You can't sweep it under the rag. No matter how long they go without producing Content- when they do that content will always light up warmth in our hearts.

You can't take vmin soul mates away from them no matter how much analysis you make, no matter how much you think they hate eachother underneath. They would still be Vmin.

Jikook is jikook no matter what anyone says.

And ooh for TKK, once you clock what their dynamic really is- you may not think of them as Jikook but you'd definitely appreciate them same.

I know a thing or two bout whistle-blower laws and I'm very good in street fights- if you do decide to be a raging bitch, I got your back🤭

[aquaburst3]

As some of you guys know by now, I'm in the middle of playing Persona 5 for the first time. One thing that stuck out to me is the similarities between Mika & Ann to Neige and Vil.

Like those two, they are models. Ann is like Neige. She's naturally beautiful. Mika is like Vil. She's a more elegant and mature beauty. Mika has a one-sided rivalry with Ann, because she's jealous of Ann's natural beauty and she has to work hard at modeling while she doesn't. Mika resorts to underhanded tactics to knock Ann off of her pedestal. However, there are a few things that Persona 5 gets right that TWST falls flat on:

We get to see both sides of the situation, even without going into extreme depth. We can see Mika's side of the story. Trying to be on equal footing with someone who isn't trying as hard as you is extremely annoying. You can't blame Ann either. She's not being malicious. Modeling just comes that naturally to her and it doesn't mean as much to her. While you could argue that TWST kind did this with Vil and Neige, I still don't think it does nearly as great of a job. We have a few actual examples of Mika and Ann's dynamic. We hardly get to see Neige and Vil interact. Neige shows up a couple time, and Vil explains his backstory at the start of Book 6, making it come off as a random footnote. This makes their whole dynamic all tell and no show, which is just plain ol' bad writing. That's not nearly as satisfying as seeing some actual examples of their dynamic in action.

Ann is an actual character with a personality, not some piece of cardboard like Neige. She is part of the squad, so we get to spend time with her and understand her perspective on things. She's bold, compassionate, and determined character with a strong sense of justice. She often uses her charm and good looks to seduce people. She is a terrible actor, but gets away with it due to her good looks. She was an outcast due to her looks, but wants to rise above that. Because we get to know her as a person, we can sympathize with her more easily. Same with Mika. While Vil has a personality, the same can't be said for Neige. He's just a piece of cardboard for Vil to sneer at. Hell, even Snow White from the 30s movie is a more fleshed out and dynamic of a character than Neige, which is REALLY saying something.

Their rivalry isn't resolved, but it does become more mutual when Ann vows to be her rival in a friendly way. Vil apologies for his actions. His relationship with Neige is never resolved, implying he still sees him in the same light, despite everything that he has done. (Then again, the static character writing is par for the course in this game. But still...)

Persona 5 isn't perfect. Ann's social link where this is from is all over the place, having her trying to reconnect with Shiho, this plotline and Ann trying to get stronger all the same one. That's a bit...much. I wish the game just stuck with one. I'll give credit where it's due. Persona 5 knocks that aspect out of the park from a writing standpoint. I wish TWST took more cues from that game when crafting its similar plot line with Neige and Vil, especially since this game came out almost 5 years before Pomefiore came out in Japan.

[dangerprone2000]

Hey guys! How’s it going?

Here I come again with the second chapter of my Fraphne fic ( that by the way it does not have a title yet. I know, Shame on me.)

I'm thinking about uploading it on some fanfiction platform, but in the meantime…

Here you guys have chapter two! I hope you enjoy it💗

Chapter 2.

Daphne was resting in the dining room of her house, after stirring the food on her plate a little, she retired without eating almost anything.

After last night's conversation, she didn't understand how she could eat again.

She decided she was going to Fred's house when she received an emergency text.

“We have to talk” it reads, and she knew exactly what it meant.

***

Daphne stared at the police cars outside of Fred's house, his father, the mayor, was probably in a meeting.

The limo disappeared behind her, as she walked deeper into the lion's den, to find a scene full of officers, who could probably see through her, the blame in her swollen eyes.

That same morning Amanda's parents identified the body. While Daphne was at school, the terrible news had spread that the Becks had gone to the morgue, and although there was not much left to identify, the body was dressed in the clothes in which Amanda was last seen with: her blue hoody and white boots.

A gold watch, an old family heirloom, had also served to recognize her body.

Her corpse came to Daphne's mind, since Amanda's death it seemed that several of her classmates used to know her as the sweet daughter of the strange Beck family. It was said that her parents were strict: They did not allow her to have a boyfriend, or her own place, and those news had spread like wildfire in the town, as had the news of her death. She was a submissive type of girl so she stayed on their house and obeyed without protest.

A golden child, who was now found dead.

Many kids came that same day to leave flowers and stuffed animals in front of her house, but no one seemed to have photos, or any other memories of her... Amanda had died without leaving evidence that she had ever lived, and Daphne barely remembered her face.

She entered the house, politely greeting the group of people gathered in the living room and went upstairs.

“Open doors Frederick” yelled Mr. Jones as she went in.

Fred's room was very clean and tidy, every little thing was in its place, small Lego constructions were displayed on shelves, with scale models of traps that he had built, or he longed to build, and lots of magazines piled on bookcases.

Fred was fidgeting with a screw, lying on his bed when she opened the door, leaving a careful distance between the door and its frame, knowing that they were alone, and Mr. Jones already made an exception on his “Girl friends are not allowed in your rooms” rule.

It seemed that he really didn’t want them downstairs, meddling around.

“Shh” he dragged a finger to his mouth, attracting the attention to his lips. “If you are quiet enough you can hear them talking.”

Daphne felt a spark of embarrassment flushing down her cheeks, how was she capable of feeling such a dumb thing in a situation like that.

Their gazes met for a second, making her heart race.

Fred really didn't understand why his mind went blank when he looked at her, why did he dream of her. How Every night under his sheets, his mind wandered to her hands touching his skin, her fingers going down his chest, her lips kissing his jaw.

But There was no point on feedings those thoughts towards her, after all, all they produced was a nervous sweat, and for him to start freaking out.

He forced a smile, trying to avoid her gaze.

The officers were surprised at how cold Amanda's parents were, and the ease with which they took the news; her mother had not even cried for her. Not shed a single tear.

“…No enemies, no boyfriends, little friends and no reasons to flee either.”

“The parents didn't dial 911 when she first disappeared, they reported her disappearance directly to the sheriff's office,” said Mr. Jones.

“They said that one day they got up and she had simply disappeared, as if the earth had swallowed her.”

“Any suspects?” One of them asked.

“Not yet, I mean, apart from the parents. We also found some P-metric tire tracks, near the swamp where the body was found, but We can’t piece together any scenarios yet…”

They remained silent, listening to other irrelevant details for what seemed like hours, until noticing movements outside the window, the police officers finally leaving the Jones mansion, with little more than a glass of cognac and a couple of hasty conclusions to draw, leaving Fred certain that by themselves, they would never be able to solve the case. In a couple years the case would be cold and forgotten, although he didn't know if that relieved him, or worried him.

The parents were questioned that same afternoon, but there was still no approximate time of death yet, to determine whether an alibi was solid or not. According to them, Amanda had disappeared on Tuesday around three in the afternoon, while she was supposed to be running errands.

“An autopsy report is being conducted tonight” Fred muttered, giving her a shrug as they watched the police cars disappear in the darkness. “I have been hearing them the whole afternoon.”

Daphne shuddered.

“What else do you know?”

“Joshua and Jessica Beck did not report Amanda's disappearance to Sheriff Bronson until Thursday.”

“And why weren't they asking about their daughter whereabouts?”

“Exactly.” “Maybe she had drug problems. I heard she was almost expelled from school a couple years ago, when she was working with a local Candyman to save up some money and run away from her family. “It was a huge deal back then.”

Daphne hesitated “how do you know about all of this.”

“Well, uh, I- I used to think she was… um, pretty, so I kind of followed her around.”

“So… you had a crush on the pretty girl, huh?”

Fred’s checks burned with indignation“That was like, many years ago.” “As the years passed, my interest became really mild.”

“Oh, but you still checked on her from time to time, didn't you?”

“I didn't!” he cut. “I just bumped into her by accident a couple weeks ago while we were in the market investigating about the ghost clown!”

She frowned, remembering sudden details of the conversation “Freddie, what if the tire tracks are ours?” “What if they are after us.”

He shook his head.

“They are going to investigate the parents first, and everyone who was close to her. Close friends, family, neighbors... would probably seek a search warrant, search for evidence in your home and surrounding areas, at the same time as they search for evidence at the scene."

Tension built in the air of the room.

“This is so sad” she lamented, getting up to clear her thoughts “we have a lot of evidence pointing out to nowhere and I just can't get that image out of my mind” Daphne said, wrapping her arms around herself. “And I don't think I can live with what we did to her either.”

“Honestly, me neither”

She sat next to him, her knees accidentally bumping. “We must solve this, Freddie.” “The problem is I don’t even know where to start.”

Fred shuffled onto his seat, trying to dissipate the tension accumulated in his muscles.

“What if the witches did it, Daph? What if she was getting involved with a guy, watching him in the woods, to keep it secret from her parents, that if she offended them? You know that she is not the first girl to disappear in that exact same place. Matilda Jonhson and Lauren Oliver disappeared there too about sixty years ago. "

“Amanda is the first one to be found though.”

“I don't know, Daph, at this point any of these makes sense.”

“Do you really think that’s an actual possibility?”

“Maybe. I don't know. It’s usually Velma the one who draws the conclusions.”

“I don't think we should get her involved. None of them”

Daphne agreed.

“And what are we going to do?”

“We are going to investigate. “Tomorrow after school, we will pay a visit to the morgue.”

After all, it seemed that once again, they had a mystery on their hands.

[dojae-huh]

Hello! Just want to say again that I'm glad I found your blog, your down-to-earth commentary, especially about the business side of it all, is very much appreciated :)

Hi. Thank you for letting me know, I'm glad you find some more down to earth posts useful. In part, I run this blog to offer an alternative in fandom experience.

Thing is, we, as k-pop fans and as people who don't work in showbusiness or South Korea, don't have enough knowledge, experience or inside information to have a strong educated opinion on most of things when it comes to idol companies and their executives. We can have opinions as customers - I like this music, this promotional strategy works on me, these outfits are ugly, this concept rocks -, but not as business analytics. Especially considering how much media play, false information and difference in cultures we face.

However, nowadays everyone has the illusion that they know better, that their opinion and feelings are valid when it comes to any topic. And spread and defend their opinion like it is the ultimate truth.

I've recently come across a twit starting with "it appears that" and ending with "for sure". In a span of a few sentences the fan offered an imaginary scenario and finished with a "this is truth". Of course to "prove" that SM is evil, heh. Such baseless statements easily play on fans' love for their biases, evoke an emotional response, call to arms, they give an answer to "Who is to blame?!", provide a target for unleashing frustration and anger.

When one solo-stan blames our bias, we can call bullshit because we know how things really are. When a fan blames Chris Lee or SM, other fans are ready to accept the words as believeable. Either because they share the sentiment, or have no own opinion on the matter, so any will do. If everyone around says the same thing, it should be true, afterall? That's how our brains are wired: follow the majority, agree with the tribe, mirror everyone's current emotion.

We can't see the inner works and we don't know the inner rules, but we can see the results of labour and sometimes a reflection of things.

When I came to k-pop, I knew SM as the company that overworks its artists, has lawsuits with them, is super strict. Broken in two halves TVXQ and EXO with half of its members gone weren't a good representation. So when I started to get to know NCT better, I started to wonder if I was lied to or that something had changed in SM (the latter). Neos were taught how to songwrite, SM persisted with good quality music for NCT despite the group not taking off right away, artists not looking slavelike, there was SMstation and interesting projects.

Sure, I can observe bad work: poorly prepared concerts (Link), constant failures with album production (omitting Doyoung's name, boring designs for 127), tasteless stylists, etc. However, I also see good work: artists flying first/business class and living in 5 star hotels, being given opportunity to go to the beach, museums, to enjoy sightseeing in new countries; opportunity to explore one's creativity (soundcloud, NCTLabs, solo performances for Link); SM giving artists second professions (MC, variety host, model) that will aid professional longevity (Doyoung hasn't finished school and doesn't have a degree, but I'm not worried for him, even if SM collapses, he'll always find a job. Same for Taeyong, he came as a blank page, now he is a songwriter and a producer, he can even become a choreographer); neos progressively being given more choice and say, their opinion being consulted and their ideas being implemented once they gain enough experience (Golden Dust story, Taeyong making his own setlist for his concert, Doyoung saying Unity should not have solo-stages, Ten choosing the mood and genre for his solo, etc).

Most importantly, I can see many friendships between neos and producers/managers, and that Haechan and Doyoung, who experienced all of SM's downsides personally and not once, continue to like the company. Meaning, the good should outweight the bad. At least for now.

Fans learnt the name of Chris Lee and continue to blame him for everything to this day, although he doesn't own any shares in SM and has stopped being a CEO a year ago. He is a token scapegoat.

Should I blindly trust fans or should I go read Wikipedia, interviews and listen to the guy himself? In situations like these I always choose the latter.

Sure, I can't tell if he evades taxes or participates in shady business, and what neos think of him (aside from Doyoung calling him "hyung" in public and not being afraid of getting punished for it), but I can see he was the person who overlooked all the early NCT songs (we have "Limitless", "Cherry bomb" thanks to him); created SMStation and SMClassics (say thank you for "Try again", "Star blossom"); found Dem Jointz ("Kick it", "Punch", "Sticker") and multiple other songwriters who now work for SM; brought to Korea the idea of songwriting camps, in which Kun participates nowadays and where he befriends foreign creators; invested SM money into a publishing company (and not a winery or a hotel business), which means SM artists will be secured to have a lot of songs to choose from in the future, and Korean young producers will have access to the global market. He has been with SM close to 20 years, and he is evidently a music nerd, ergo he understands artists and their love for music. So why should I hate him? I have no proof of him taking money away from neos, but I have evidence he was very essential to formation of NCT and the quality of SM sound being maintained. On the contrary, I'm inclined to suspect the quality of albums (song setlist, production) is raising again because he is back to supervising A&R in SM.

[365sylviaplath]

On The Unexpected Joint Slay of Family x Career (4th House x 10th House)

astrology blurb: A majority of my notable astrological transits at the time i started this journey seemed to be centered around abundance and career growth/shakeups and hopefully finally being recognized for my work (financially, socially, etc) and instead i was searching for obituaries with my full name on them (my paternal grandma's name) while at a job that continued to not recognize me, no financial changes (in fact, i had just paid the most i've ever paid for taxes in my life). There is something so mysterious and endlessly fascinating about the axes in astrology - when you’re looking into one particular transit, it will also be reflected somewhere else in your chart, which may come through more clearly. In this example, both jupiter and uranus were conjunct my midheaven/10th house of career (hence my blurb above about career gains), but something i later came to remember was the fact that this meant it was also opposing my 4th house of home/family.

some axes are obviously opposite but inextricably linked: 2nd is about what you have and 8th is about what you lose, you owe taxes for any money you earn and dying is the only guarantee when it comes to living life. you can only lose something when you have it! loss and gain are symbiotic lovers in the eyes of astrology in the same way that your home and family identity are tied to your career and public persona. i proceeded to be so stumped by this.

you can’t be a public figure without a private self. the self you think no one will witness, because how could they, is on utter display. much like how becoming a parent is a job (and one of the few things that can get you somewhat out of work in the American Traditional workplace), work will publicly out you for who you are and who you were raised to be. how you show yourself to the public is a direct result of who you grew up as. how do you act when someone blames you? if you have to do something independently? you will accidentally seek mentorship from people who remind you of your family members, repeat the same career blunders as your parents (or come incredibly close), wonder why you’re stuck in the situation you’re in and then remember you’ve seen it modeled more times than you can count. parents overly focused on their careers/work life and being seen by the public likely did not make as much time for their kids. family and work are constantly being put at odds as though they are complete opposites. but they need each other! private and public self are more stunningly similar than we realize.

sometimes it’ll really be 26 years on auto-pilot and then your new therapist in a new city asks you about your family history. screeching halt. most other years in therapy, i had more alarming and pressing personal issues i needed immediate attention for, but all of the extraneous material was stripped away this year. getting along with my friends, renewed my lease, physical recovery very much on track, not dating anyone, work same as its always been (not great, but the same) - one of my first therapy assignments was to look for my grandma’s obituary. Something about googling your own first name + last name + obituary after therapy on a Friday night and parsing through results. Something about realizing she had my name - my name was actually hers first - i am, because she was. I wouldn’t be myself if she wasn’t herself. at the time, i couldn't even mentally conjure an image of what she looked like.

i started therapy with far different intentions. my mental health was not the best at the time. lots of bizarre, seemingly psychosomatic symptoms (classic for me, but always indicative of a larger thing going on), a desire to pivot careers into something that better suited my interests and skills, generally just needed help figuring out my deal. career was pretty stable at that time, but i knew i had a lot of unresolved feelings toward my professional life that i wanted to sort out. even the idea of pivoting was challenging for me! i was struggling to even get myself out of the psychological hole. the concept of writing cover letters for jobs that wouldn't even have the decency to reject me felt like medieval torture. i genuinely couldn't bring myself to do it and felt more and more ashamed that i couldn't even start the process of leaving, thus furthering the spiral. i brought myself to a new city, i created an entirely new home life for myself, i had clear intentions of rebirth! why was it so hard to be reborn?

i thought about how many women had to give up careers they loved to get married and have kids. and all love to those who want to do this! but certainly not all of them wanted this. i wondered the forbidden question - did grandma really want to have kids and stop working? in the middle of the Bell Jar, she describes walking around boston with a man from chicago and thinking to herself about how she would reinvent herself if she moved to chicago. right before she receives the electro-shock treatment for the first time, she makes an attempt to escape the treatment (and massachusetts entirely) and run away to chicago. guess there really never is an original thought. i wondered if grandma ever considered running away to chicago. clearly it was on the map for some of the new england girlies! was i unconsciously doing what she wished to do? at the end of the day, i had a few very solid reasons for moving, but it still felt a little random. leave and create a new home for yourself if you ever wish to outwardly engage with the world in a way you're proud of. i wondered how many "random thoughts" of ours are actually the thoughts and feelings of our family members?

[monocle-teacup]

I just want to share this scene from my Lotus AU of Dianthus the Arachnamech showing off its hat collection to Mandroid:

“However, I’ve noticed that Dianthus has… quirks that I didn’t program. I believe that it now has free will.”

She almost dropped the duster in awe. “I guess that makes sense. Dee wasn’t so friendly when we were still at GHOST. Plus, the whole hat thing.”

“Hat thing?” he repeated in confusion.

“Dee likes wearing hats.” The robot moved its whole body with enthusiasm. The scientist’s face clearly showed that he blamed her for such a development. “Why are you looking at me like that? I was wearing a hard hat one day when I went to the scrap yard and Dee seemed really interested, so as a joke I placed the hat on its body. And that’s how I learned it likes wearing hats.”

Meridian stared at her for a while tapping his fingers against his now crossed arms. “And how does that hat stay on?”

She smiled in pride. “I use stronger magnets so it won’t fly off when Dee walks around.”

“And you take the time to do this for every hat?”

Her head tilted to the side. “Yeah. What’s the point of wearing a hat if it won’t stay on?”

He sighed. “How many hats does Dianthus have now?” The machine perked up and then quickly left the room. “Where is it running off to?”

“It probably wants to show you the collection.”

It wasn’t long before the tapping of metal legs against the floor returned. The spider came into the room holding a medium sized box with its two front legs. Placing it on the ground, it opened the lid to reveal 4 different hats: a hard hat, baseball cap, party hat, and a sun hat.

The scientist said nothing as his creation put on every hat like it was a model. Tara had a grin on her face the entire time. After it was finished, it waited expectantly.

“Hmm… I can certainly see why Dianthus is so attached to you.” He smirked. “You spoil it.” Ignoring her offended expression, he stroked the machine’s bodywith an organic hand. “I see you’re fully committed to being a ‘fun loving bot’. His voice was soft. Her eyes squinted at his words. “It’s a long story.” She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t elaborate. 

[the-au-collector]

I have no backing for this but I feel like every post about KH I’ve been making lately has been very negative??? Idk I reblogged a post today and realized it was really really negative? And like. I don’t like KH3. I stand by that. And it’s because I fucking love this series. I love it’s characters. I love how much of a madman Nomura is.

But. I can also feel the lack of love that went into KH3. That’s not to say there wasn’t any love. The world designs are phenomenal (did you know they modeled a specific city block in San Francisco for San Fransokyo’s level? I need to post that comparison soon). The gameplay, while too flashy and breaking the flow of gameplay constantly, looks really good. The game looks good. It feels good to play. I hate the game yet it’s my most replayed KH game to date.

Yet I can’t help but feel like Nomura was tired when writing it. He was tired of these characters. Tired of this arc. He wanted to move on. I don’t blame him. He’s been working on the Xehanort arc for around a decade. Damn, I would be tired too. But it’s a problem when I can feel that tiredness in the story.

And it permeates the story. The sequel-baiting. The bringing up things out of left field. Fucking Verum Rex. It’s just. KH3 feels tired. It feels tired of its own IP. It feels tired of the arc it’s supposed to be ending. It feels tired of Disney and Sora and the characters we’ve been following for years.

Idk, I mostly just feel disappointed about KH3. At this point, I’m just tired of it. I loathe the game because I love the series and I hate how lackluster of an ending KH3 got because Nomura got tired/wants to do other things with the series (*side eyes the hideous rebrand of Versus XIII as Verum Rex*). This series is near and dear to my heart and it’s just sad. When the game came out, I felt betrayed. There was too much coming out of left field. Too much focusing on what was ahead instead of closing off arcs. It was too little too late.

We waited thirteen years—and for what? For Sora to be sent left and right with no direction across 6 Disney worlds? For everything to be wrapped up in a nice little bow with little to no struggle or emotional agony that all of the previous games have consistently given us? For Sora to just be able to fix things with no consequences? For every world Sora was sent to to feel inconsequential (and I can see the effort there. I can see so, so much effort to make something. Each movie featured has themes of loss and sacrifice but it’s just not there in KH3)? For Sora to not even take a front-seat in most of the story? He’s just there, a vessel for the player to watch events that he has nothing to do with unfold? What happened to Sora, the main character? Why does no one want to involve him on anything? Now he’s just the dues ex machine all the important people get to call when they get in trouble. Where’s the setup? Where’s the payoff? Where’s the hours of Lea agonizing over Roxas and Xion? Where’s Aqua and Ven trying desperately to save Terra, knowing he might be too far gone? Where’s Sora, facing up against the biggest foe of his life, who’s supposed to be the most conniving, deceitful man ever? It all just gets shoved to the end, barely mattering outside of a single world.

The worst part is—I know Nomura can write something good. I know he can do the setup and payoff. He explained why Mickey was shirtless in KH1 for Pete’s sake! He did really good at Union X’s story and making us really care about the new characters we have never met! He made impeccable Disney Worlds in Dark Road that had plot relevance! I know he can make something good, great even! So why didn’t he with KH3?

Sorry for the long post. Figured I’d explain some of my disappointment in KH3. I really do love the series, and it’s what makes KH3 so disappointing and bad to me. I know this is a 5-year old conversation but I’d figured I’d put my 2 cents into the pot.

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 31st July

Well, we're going dark, this week. Dark and dramatic, and I am here for it, with a tour of some of the all-time least healthy Biblical romances, and then a ballad about an attempted teen suicide. So, uh, that's something that exists.

Hard Headed Woman - Elvis Presley (peaked at Number 2)

Well, this song is the definition of a problematic favourite. It's good, rowdy fun, with Elvis at his least tame best, but also yikes, Elvis! Some real questionable stuff about women, here.

The excuse here is of course that this is a soundtrack song, from the Elvis vehicle King Creole, in which Elvis plays Danny, a poor boy from New Orleans, who gets involved in crime and falls for the girl of a local gangster, and gets into all sort of scrapes, including singing songs to distract people from a robbery. Which is the flimsiest excuse for including songs in a film possibly ever, but hey. It's enough that we can asusme this is meant to be an "in character" song. It was Elvis' favourite film he was in, apparently, and he even got his military service deferred to finish shooting it. I'd probably watch it - it seems to have been pretty well received.

I cannot, however, work out how, for the life of me, this song factors in. Its whole point is just "hey, aren't women troublesome", except I can't find any justification for that in the film. I simply have no idea why Danny, in character, would be singing this. So yeah, we have this song, completely out of nowehere, aout how a hard-headed woman, a soft-hearted man / Been the cause of trouble ever since the world began. Which is just great.

Our examples are all Biblical, from Adam and Eve, to Samson and Delilah, to Jezebel and Ahab, all examples of how bothersome women are. Except - and this is what bugs me - these are all cases where the man is very much also shown to be at fault. Like, Elvis can sing all he likes about Adam telling Eve don't you let me catch you messin' round that apple tree, but the actual account has Adam eating the apple, then trying to lie and shift the blame to Eve, when they get found out. Samson - hardly a role model - deliberately tells Delilah to mess with his hair, after she already tried to defeat him three times.And while you can make a case for the previous two cases being a bit of artistic license, I don't think by any stretch that you can argue that Ahab as a king was doing swell before Jezebel came along.

My only thought on this front is that it might be deliberate, which would be clever, making this a song about how men always want to blame women for their own weakness, and not just about "grrr those pesky women". But that seems a bit subtle, and would require a level of Biblical close reading that I'm just not sure is the point here. Instead, I think the point's just meant to be that Elvis is lamenting how men are led astray by their women, and still love it. Hence the - admittedly quite funny - line about how I got a woman, a head like a rock / If she ever went away, I'd cry around the clock. Elvis complains about his lady, but he loves her really, promise!

Musically, it's a riot, like the 12-bar blues love child of Jailhouse Rock and Rock Around the Clock, with more jazzy trumpet bits throughout. It's frenetic, but in a careful, controlled way, and as ever, Elvis sounds like he's having a heck of a lot of fun. And I think this is what carries the song, despite the somewhat questionable lyrics - you're simply having too much fun to care, by the time we're getting all Biblical about it.

I should note, just because I'm keeping tabs on it, that Elvis' diction reaches an all-time low here. There are quite a few lyrics here I had to check, including one about "that negro Jezebel" that both shocked and confused me before I looked it up and found that it should have been "that evil Jezebel". And there were quite a few more harmless moments that caught me out, too. I'm not saying this as a bad thing, because part of what makes rock what it is is the slurring of words, and the step away from the clear, careful enunciation of previous generations. And we're definitely seeing that, here.

Endless Sleep - Marty Wilde (4)

I hadn't heard of Marty Wilde, but he sure has a heck of a name, very cool, very action-hero. Predictably, it's not his birth name - he was born in Blackheath under the considerably less cool name Reginald Leonard Smith, only to change it when he was spotted playing in London clubs by one Larry Parnes, an impresario who was the backer behind various low-level British stars at this point, and who liked to give his protégés cool-sounding stage names like Billy Fury and Dickie Pride. So yeah, Marty Wilde was just another of those early British rockers, a sort of British attempt to emulate American rockers and rollers.

I have to say, from this one song, I don't mind him at all. He's got a good voice for it, all anguish and wailing, with all the little hiccups and flicks that are apparently necessary to be a rock and roll artist at this point. Musically, I also really like this song, with its twangy guitar and bluesy tune. In particular, the distortion on the guitar in the intro and the outro is really cool.

And then you get to the lyrics. Because it turns out this song is a cover of an American original, and is our first example of a teenage tragedy ballad, a niche 1950s genre that I kind of love? Nicknamed "death discs" or "splatter platters", they were this whole genre of sentimental, dramatic songs that were from the point of view of a teenager, lamenting the untimely death of their love interest. It's a sort of Romeo and Juliet vibe, combined with some of the darkness of more traditional folk murder ballads, and the result is not unlike something you'd find in a particularly shamelessly self-indulgent hurt/comfort fanfic, or possibly a particularly trashy Victorian novel, the sort that more respectable writers would look down their noses at and accuse of corrupting young women.

And for all that people looked down at these teenage tales of woe, you can see how they're just a evelopment of the sort of thing you are also seeing in more mainstream songs. Like, the original of Endless Sleep was written by one Jody Reynolds, who wrote it after hearing Heartbreak Hotel, which is also quite a dark song. And so we get the story here of a teenage boy who's had a row with his girlfriend. Thus it starts with a glorious bit of scene-setting, as we hear about how the night was black, rain fallin' down / Looked for my baby, she's nowehere around. Ominous, already, and then we hear about how Jody traced her footsteps down to the shore / 'Fraid she's gone forever more. Even the sea itself is tauting him, at this point, telling him how I took your baby from you away, and then he hears a voice, calling to him: Come join me, baby, in endless sleep. So yeah. We've seemingly got a slighted girlfriend, who's attempted suicide by jumping in the ocean, and is now calling to Jody to get him to join her. Talk about dark.

It was too dark, apparently, for the record execs, who insisted that Jody save his girl at the end. And so we get a rather tacked on verse where he saves her from the waves, stole her away from the angry sea. Which is fine, I guess. I don't know, I'd have been fine with it ending more tragically. But we're still in the early days of death ballads, there'll be plenty of tragedy to come. Marty does a good job, with it all, and I'm mostly pretty charmed. I always appreciate a song that tells a story, and I also enjoy the darkness of these teen tragedy ballads. They're sort of proto-emo, custom designed to both annoy and concern parents, and I, for one, love it.

Also, unrelated, but I've just seen that Marty Wilde got an album into the UK albums charts in 2020? Even wilder (Wilde-er?) it's a collaboration with his kids, including one Kim Wilde. Who's the singer behind the song Kids in America. I always assumed from the title of that song that she was, you know, American. But no. British, and the child of this early rock and roller who's apparently still rocking, 8 decades on. So that's something.

I didn't expect Marty to beat out Elvis, but I think he maybe has to. He's our first death disc, and like I've said, it's a genre I'm inexplicably really fond of. Plus Marty just seems cool, and the song itself sounds great, to boot. Contrast with Elvis' questionable exegesis, and I think the winner has to be Marty, this week.

Favourite song of the bunch: Endless Sleep

[xthexkillingxgroundsx]

fearxtoxfreedom asked: “�� i’m broken.  and i don’t need anyone to try to feed me white lies about it.  something inside me is broken and it isn’t just going to be put back like it was.  ”  (gemma)

This... When had this started? Did it even matter? Did either of them give a shit? Depended on the day. They were antitheses, really. Emily coming from a rich bitch, spoiled, but repressed, daddy's girl, being pushed down the path of a doctor. ...An... IRONIC twist of fate given Gemma's not-so-friendly and not-so-innocent double back scratch relationship with one Dr. Tara Knowles, an alumni of all things at the very university she was studying at in San Diego. Meanwhile, Gemma Teller Morrow was a bad bitch from the wrong side of the tracks, denounced-now-reavowed catholic, embroiled in a biker gang. While Emily aspired to designer clothes, fashion magazines, MySpace and the newly burgeoning platforms of Facebook & YouTube, Gemma aspired to being the best damn car shop in the backward ass small town of Charming. Okay, so she REALLY aspired to control a monopolized gang territory where SAMCRO called the shots like a little mini-dictatorship set as its own governing slice of Hell WITHIN California, but... If it ain't happened yet...

POINT WAS... Emily and Gemma, on the surface, would never be caught breaking bread. Gemma & SAMCRO were radioactive names south of Charming. And if the folks of Charming knew their King Biker's Precious Queen was breaking bread with the daughter of a 1% tax bracket surgeon and a former model turned acting mayor of Chula Vista? It just wouldn't be a good look, okay? (And would have some bad, bad, consequences...) But sometimes, the strangest bedfellows, are the only ones you can trust to keep as confidantes and friends. To this day, Gemma was the ONLY person Emily had ever spoken to about Hannah and Beth's disappearance... And... And what came after... Was it a coincidence or fate that Gemma just HAPPENED to find God at the same time Emily discovered the existence of Wendigos, and the unbidden knowledge that this land's ancestors truly possessed the magic and will to tame and distort the human spirit? Again, Emily didn't know... And it didn't matter. She really couldn't give a shit. Not on this day. Not really.

Face fell, expression uncertain, she'd NEVER heard Gemma talk like THIS before... Scar THROBBED in phantom reminders as Gemma spilled her guts. 'Something inside of me is broken.' Yeah, she knew how that felt... 'And it isn't just going to be put back like it was...' Shadowed eyes, heavy lashes flickered across, tongue lingering, pressed against her canine. A few moments passed by as Emily just... TOOK IN her words... And then... "Okay. No white lies. You're broken, who gives a shit? No one. No one except you and the people who care about you." (Including Emily, though she and Gemma often skirted such phrases.) "If you can't go back, you just move on, right? Fuck the rest." Though, one thing stood out as particularly troublesome right about now... What EXACTLY had Gemma feeling so BROKEN? In every encounter they'd ever had this side of California, Gemma seemed so impossibly stalwart. A FORTRESS OF FORITISSIMAL BITCHINESS. ...So what the Hell was going on right now...?

"You wanna talk about it?"

Maybe she wouldn't talk. Emily wouldn't blame her. Their misfit relationship had blossomed from this very anonymity. That lack of pressure. That ability to get away from the bad stuff and get a moment of solace. Same reason Emily hadn't told her about the Wendigo. Bitch would think she was crazy... Right? At the very least, if she started spouting shit about the Wendigos, the government would stuff her in an insane asylum. But... But the OPTION was there...

[anarchyrpbook]

FALLOUT (TV SERIES, 2024): Episode Eight Feel free to edit the sentences, places, pronouns, etc, as you need. NSFW TW: Mentions of violence

“Find me.”

“The locals put up a fight, but so did we.”

“He’s dead.”

“This is not the first time a [Brother] in your company has fallen into misfortune, is it?”

“I fear you lied then. Just as you lie now.”

“Don’t kill me and I can lead you to it.”

“I can help you.”

“My injury was my own doing, not theirs.”

“Such a display of loyalty, don’t see that much anymore.”

“They died running.”

“[The Brotherhood] has lost its way.”

“And yet power is taken, not given. A lesson you seemed to have learned.”

“Your entire life you’ve been looking for a home. Build one with me.”

“Well, thank you for the ride.”

“Join us. It’s my turn to host, isn’t it?”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about this moment. You wouldn’t believe the things that went through my head.”

“Guess I was gonna, walk in here and blow everyone up.”

“But, it’s not really how I was raised.”

“Now, please, give me them back.”

“Time is the apex predator.”

“You’ll never find out. Uhp. [Pronoun]’s gunna find out.”

“How can you guarantee results?” 

“By dropping the bombs ourselves.”

“But this is our chance to make war obsolete.”  

“We have conflict, and we have war. And war, well, war never changes.”

“He never told you where he’s really from, when he’s from.”

“Wait, [name], they’re sending you?”

“Punishment for what I did to myself.”

“I had no idea they’d blame you for it… I’m sorry.”

“And he burned that city to the ground.”

“I think you know.”

“[Name], they’re lying to you.”

“You can’t go home, [name]. Not with what you’ve learned.”

“So you’re just - you’re just gonna keep me here?”

“I did what was necessary to save our people.”

“You’ve seen what it’s like here. Everyone equally afraid, equally miserable. Forced to do horrible things to survive. I had to make a choice.”

“I believe, I know I made the right choice.”

“If the problem with the world is factions endlessly fighting, endlessly at war, then what is the solution but to get rid of the factions? To make the world us, ours to shape?”

“I’ll bet that outfit makes y’all feel like a big man, don’t it?”

“I wonder if they fixed that in this new model? I guess not.”

“Did you get them?”

“I can’t see shit.”

“Find that fucking [ghoul].” “Open the door, [name], open the door and let’s go home.”

“You see what this place does to people?”

“You came all this way for me.”

“You’re not gonna hurt me.”

“Now, I’ve waited over [200] years to ask somebody one question.”

“War never changes.”

“You look out at this wasteland, looks like chaos. But, there’s always somebody behind the wheel, and that’s who I want to talk to.”

“Well, it’s easier to track a stuck pig than to ask where it’s off to.”

“You wanna know how I know [person], don’t you?”

“Let’s just say that everything about your whole little world was decided [over 200] years ago.”

“Now, you can stay here with him... Or you can come meet your makers.”

“You comin?”

“Hey, get up…”

“I’ll find you.”

“Okey-dokey.”

“We did it, [name].”

“What do you suppose your [Brotherhood] would do with infinite power?”

“Maybe you can stop them. Maybe you can’t. Maybe all you can do is try.”

[cowgirlcherrie]

Novocaine pt. 1 ━━ ゜゜・．

pairing: College! Abby x friend!crush!fem! reader

prompt: F is for friday’s, but its also for Frats and Fucked up parties, its even worse when the night out doesn’t go as planned choosing to numb emotions with alcohol and weed

warnings: 18+, MDNI, intoxication, partying, alcohol, drunk reader, mean-ish! comedic relief! Ellie, cheating, smoking, weed. almost kissing, heavy cursing, touching, Abby has a toxic girlfriend, substance abuse-ishhh (its only Abby smoking to forget, Reader drinking to also forget), jealousy, angsty

song: novacane by frank ocean

any words highlighted blue in the fic are the lyrics to the song, this fic is based off of the song roughlyy,

a/n: This…. honestly biting my fist at the tension between Abby and the reader, but this is my favorite thing i’ve ever written, I love the dynamic between the reader n Abby where you can feel they are playing it safe even though they want to, based off of novacane by frank ocean which helped me to write this (do listen), but I hope you all enjoy this, thank you for the support on my work so far I appreciate it so so much, sit back n enjoy ♡

I blame it on the model broad with the Hollywood smile...

It was Friday, and as always Fridays were for the frat opens and free alcohol. Now at first, you weren’t considering going, opting to instead stay at your dorm instead and watch movies until your eyes hung low and couldn’t bare to stay open anymore. But of course, Abby dragged you out to join her and her girlfriend at the party. You were rather frustrated, but Abby was just one person you couldn’t say no to. Yet the fired heart of yours was destroyed at the sight of seeing Abby with a girlfriend. Maybe it was the fact that it wasn’t you to be able to see the raw and authentic parts of her, but rather the campus wanna-bee model broad who dipped her energy into too many people. Abby played it off that she was just friendly, but all you could see was CHEATER above her head in bold red letters. Her smile wasn’t sweet but rather devious and manipulative. According to Ellie, the girl was going to school for dentistry, but adapted to a side hustle of sugar daddies to pay off her tuition. You couldn’t blame the girl, but it seemed like Abby didn’t know what the girl did when the lights were off.

She said she wanna be a dentist really badly

She's in school paying for tuition doing porn in the Valley

At least you working…

So here you were, pushing through the busy crowd of drunk young adults, grinding against each other under the changing LEDS to the beat of the music and a cup filled with awful jungle juice from the keg. Pulling the cup up to your lips to take a sip of the alcohol mix, wincing at the cold beverage going down your throat leaving a burning sensation in your chest. It wasn’t good but it helped you get drunk to survive the next 4 hours at the party. One cup became two...which became 3 and eventually 4. Somewhere into the night, you lost Abby, who somehow knew everyone there, who somehow lost her girlfriend in the fit of people. Last time you saw the couple they were arguing in a corner, Abby’s face scrunching in irritation as her arms crossed her chest, rolling her eyes at her girlfriend. Her partner touched up and down Abby’s arm, pleading with the girl about something. But from the look of It, Abby was denying it, shaking her head at the girl. The couple had been always arguing, it seemed their honeymoon stage was short-lived as their rocky foundation came cracking down and now their arguments and make-up sex ruled the relationship. 

Now you were lost, not even sure if Abby was still here or if she decided to call Ellie to come pick her up and take her home. Suddenly you needed air, the sweaty bodies making your clothes feel a lot damp in comparison to how they felt when you first went in. You were going up the stairs from the basement holding tightly to your cup as you passed people who were headed towards your direction, at the stairs, were pushing and shoving. Entering the kitchen area which was, of course, filled with more bodies and a specific face catching your eye.

Abby’s girlfriend, stood there in all her glory, flashing her friends a billion dollar smile while hanging off of the arm of some frat member, kissing the guy as his arms were all over her. The crowd around them cheering in surprise. Your heart sank, where was Abby? This was not good, making your heart beat fast, watching as the two leaned in to kiss each other…again, now in a full make-out next to the alcohol table. Your eyes went wide, causing you to turn tightly on your heals bolting for the door. Making your way out of the house in a hurry, it didn’t help that you were drunk and your heart was now beating in your ears replacing the deep bass of the music. Converse at one with the black-top pavement, your right hand resting against the side of the house as you stumbled to the front lawn, between the gate and driveway. You were almost there when swiftly your body collided with a hard chest letting out a grunt as their hands wrapped around your waist, to shield you from falling.

“Y/n?” You knew that voice, it was Abby’s, you finally found the girl after looking for her for half of your night. Her hands were still at your waist, slightly squeezing it, with her nails digging into the side of your smooth skin to get you out of the trance you were in. Abby was really touchy, especially when it came to you, you don’t know why she did it but you tried not to take it too literally. Get your head out of the gutter, you would think. You panicked gripping her arms when she finally pulled you away from her chest to get a good look at you, scanning your body to see if something happened by how hard you were breathing and how fast you were moving.

You put me on a feeling I never had, never had, never had (never)…

“You look like you seen a ghost…shit, what’s wrong” Abby questioned. You parted your lips to say something making eye contact with Abby, but you quickly looked away, dropping your head as your lips closed again and nothing came out.

“Have you seen my girlfriend?” Abby questioned, your heart aching at the question. Abby mind-as-well take a knife to your heart and stabbed you with it. You weren’t gonna lie to her, you couldn’t but you knew the reaction Abby would have as soon as the words left your mouth. Abby didn’t like the look you were giving her, you look guilty, almost regretful, the same look you give when you answer something wrong or did something you definitely shouldn’t have.

I think I started somethin' , I got what I wanted, Did-didn't, I

“…Abby,” you dragged, your voice at the same tone as doctors when they prepare to give you the worst possible news of your life, and with that you started shaking your head. All you could do is lowly point to the kitchen as Abby’s eyes followed the direction you were pointing to,  the soft gaze she usually gives you instantly developed to one that was cold and avoidant. Abby didn’t speak further, rubbing her fingers at the side of your waist for a second, as if she had been thinking about what to say or what to do, her hands were delicate with you and almost soothing, but your body felt cold as she let go and walked right past you and into the house.

You let out a breathe you didn’t know you had been holding, cursing to your self as you pushed yourself into the wall with your hands on your knees. The bile forming at the back of your throat making you drop the red solo cup. Luckily for you, throwing up was not an option in that moment and you gave your self a minute to go walk to the road. As you make your way to the curb, sitting yourself on the gravel as you tucked your head down on your arms that were resting on your knees, rocking swiftly to ease you from chucking out everything you had drunk in the last hour.

You were in a daze failing to notice the jingling keys coming from behind you as an arm came down to touch your back making you jump. Head up and looking around in bewilderment. 

“Hey, it’s just me..” Abby whispered, her soft voice contrasting with the loudness of the house behind the two of you. It’s not that you felt bad for Abby, well you did, but instead it was the jungle juice you had not mixing well with your empty stomach. You tucked your head back into your arms. Abby knew you were drunk out of your mind, the way your words slurred or the rambles coming from your mouth before finding that her girlfriend was truly up to know good like everyone said she was. 

“Um thank—“ Abby cut herself off kneeling to sit next to you on the curb, before trying to make her statement again.

“I’m not the type to say it, and you know that but..um, thank you,” Abby muttered, looking at you fully this time as she closed the distance between the two of you on the curb, her hip touching yours as her hand continued to rub circles in your back. This time you could smell the pine cologne radiating off of her and her body heat keeping you warm in the night chill. 

“What..hmph, what are you thanking me for Abby?” You groaned, your voice soft, feeling a bit of nervousness start to take over your form, you refused to look at Abby from your current position, rather finding your arms way more interesting in the current moment.

“Thanks for not lying to me..I guess, I don’t know” Abby let out a swift nervous laugh. You felt her body vibrate as she laughed before she cleared her throat again.

“No, I'm serious this time——“ 

“Thank me one more time and I’m gonna kill you,” You mumbled, voice monotone, causing Abby to laugh again. This time her hand snaked up your back, sending a shiver down your spine, causing your body to jolt making Abby smirk from her position. Her gentle yet roughened hands moved to your cheek to move hair out of your face and behind your ear. 

“Mm..you know what, she didn’t deserve you” you confessed, making Abby freeze. You weren’t sure where this sudden liquid courage came from, hell you couldn’t think straight. Now you were just saying things, but you always thought it, and it was true. She didn’t deserve Abby, or how much Abby sacrificed to be with her, almost damaging her reputation. 

“I know,” Abby put in, shutting her lips tightly, her face shifting to more stoic as her she put her tongue to her cheek before smacking her lips. 

“Do you..?” You slurred, hiccuping as you spoke now looking up to finally look at Abby. She looked so pretty under the moonlight, her hair in its usual braid as she wore a simple black tee with her pretty chain sitting across her neck. Untouched. Your eyes met hers, low yet full of adoration and admiration, and your eyes flickered to her lips. You didn’t know what you were doing, it was as if someone had been taking control over your body. 

novocaine, baby I want you...

“I don’think you do” your voice came out below a whisper, taking your hand up to play with the chain around her neck as she leaned in closer to you, she could smell the alcohol on your breath and you could smell the cologne that didn’t seem to go away. It was almost as if you had put a spell on her, your presence numbing the heartbreak she experienced just a few minutes ago. You were numbing the pain for her.

just one taste, a little taste, she wanted you to love her numb

love me now, when I'm gone love me numb...

“n'you do?” Abby questioned, bringing her hand up to grip your face, as the two of you were practically on top of each other, her lips hovering over yours but before she could lay a gentle kiss, the two of you were interrupted by loud music coming from down the street. Making the two of you jump apart, opening the gap between the two of you on the curb. The car’s brakes screeched stopping in front of the two of you at the curb, it was Ellie. Of course. You gave Abby one last final look, but she had been too distracted by Ellie’s sudden appearance to give one back.

“I’m seriously gonna start fucking charging y’all, I’m not a damn uber” Ellie groaned, turning down the music so that the two of you could hear her. 

“Hurry the fuck up! Let’s go!” Ellie sassed, hitting the side of her door, as her arm hanged out the window. Abby only shook her head at her best friend, standing up then looking back in your direction and grabbing your arm to pull you up. 

“I owe you!” Abby shouted at Ellie who only mocked the girl as a response, Abby dragged you by your arm to the backseat of the car, almost like you were a rag doll. Opening the door swiftly with her freehand before giving you one last look.

“Get in baby,” Abby lectured, guiding you in with her hand on your back. You complied, climbing into Ellie’s back seat sitting up firmly as Abby closed the door behind you after making sure your feet were tucked in. As soon as the door shut you fell over in Ellie’s backseat with a groan. The loud smell of weed, and the rap music coming through the speakers made you feel like you were back at the basement of the party.

“Throw up in my backseat and your washing my whole car, oh!— and with your bare hands y/n I’m not playing with you” Ellie shouted which only earned a groan from you in response,

“Whyyy are you yelling,” you whined as your hands went up to cover your face.

“The fuck did you drink?” Ellie drew her face back in confusion at your attitude before turning the music up a little bit louder. Abby was now in the passenger seat fiddling with her phone, occasionally checking on you in the back, which you had now passed out. The windows cracked just enough for fresh air as Ellie drove back to your dorm complex. The car was completely silent as Ellie handed Abby a pre-rolled blunt and her lighter from the glove compartment. Abby silently thanked, feeding into the temptation and putting the blunt to her lips. releasing the smoke as she tilted her head back into the headrest. If she was gonna be fucked up, she might as well have been high. Sending a: “we’re over, for good. Get your shit and go bitch” text to her girlfriend— well ex-girlfriend with ease. Abby turned her head to look at you who was still sleeping in the back, letting out soft snores that could be heard through the music as your hair blocked your face.  

but, girl, I can't feel my face, what are we smokin' anyway...

“Fuck…” Abby cried out 

“Dude, turn that down she’s sleeping” Abby snapped reaching her hand for the volume button making the music at a moderately low volume, it didn’t help that Ellie was playing Marvin’s Room by Drake that made her want to bash her head into the window. Ellie was preparing to argue, but chose not to realizing the shitty night the two of you were having. 

“You know I’ve never seen her drink this much” Ellie sighed. You were like a little sister to her and she wondered what it was that drove you to keep drowning yourself in cups. Abby hummed bringing the blunt up to her lips realizing she hasn’t either 

“Same,” Abby blurted out as she detached the blunt from her lips really thinking about the situation as a whole. Abby felt paralyzed almost numb in the seat, especially when her ex-girlfriend now crossed her mind, her heart went cold, and she couldn't feel a thing. “—well I lost her, halfway through the night, she probably started drinking because she was alone” Abby confessed feeling guilty that she didn’t stick up under you all night which probably would have resulted in the both of you having a better night. 

“You mean to tell me…you were so pussy whipped you failed to see that, that girl” Ellie pointed at you, “Was missing from behind you” Ellie finished throwing her hands in the air for a quick second before reattaching them to the wheel. Abby sighed in response realizing how shitty she looked in this situation, and you already didn’t want to come which made her feel bad in the first place. 

“When are you gonna start being honest with yourself Abby?” Ellie sneered as her eyes were focused on the road.

“About what?”

“About what?” 

“The truth is you like y/n” Ellie revealed turning her head slightly to see Abby’s reaction. Abby paused at Ellie’s words. Well yes, she liked you, anyone would like you! The way your hair flowed as you walked, the way you laughed, or the way your nose scru— fuck. She really did like you. Abby gave Ellie a look putting out the empty blunt in her hand, and stuffing the lighter back in the glove compartment. Abby was now burning holes in the side of Ellie’s head. 

now I'm something like the chemist on campus, but there's no drug's around, quite like what I found in you

“Pft..no” Abby hesitated to answer, rubbing off what she said. While you were her friend, she was always going to look out for you because no one could do an efficient job of doing so. Yet she felt that she could. Abby scratched her neck, muting her phone that had been blowing up with a text from her ex-girlfriend cursing her out. 

“I’m calling you bluff” Ellie speculated, shaking her head as her hands gripped the wheel even more. Abby parted her lips to rebuttal Ellie’s statement but was cut off when Ellie suddenly began to lecture her. 

“For one second I’m telling you to think that just maybe what you thought you wanted with— whatever the fuck her name is, wasn’t genuine, but you felt as though you wanted y/n the whole time yet you thought you couldn’t have her”

Well, shit. Call Ellie a tarot reader for the way she had read Abby for filth as if she had been stalking her every move. If this was a game of chess, Abby would be losing miserably while Ellie was on the road to victory. But Abby didn’t wanna give Ellie the satisfaction of being right. Abby suddenly remembered your sleeping figure in the backseat rubbing her eyes at the current state of the situation. Her throat groggy and itchy from the blunt she smoked wasn’t helping either. 

“Are we seriously having this conversation right now, mind you— with her in the car?” Abby inquired, nodding her head at you in the backseat, her jaw clenching and she smacked her teeth giving Ellie a glare from her position in the car.

“Fuck yeah, we are because the ignorance you fuckin' have of your reality is pissing me off” Ellie spat, narrowing her eyes. She was riling Abby up, good. Ellie wanted Abby to see the mistake she made by not being upfront with her feelings like Ellie had been encouraging her to do before she even got with her girlfriend. Abby’s nostrils flared as she continued to listen to Ellie’s words. 

“All I’m saying is, look at what you wanted and always wanted, and then look at what you settled for” Ellie cleared her throat focusing back on the road ignoring the intensive, disbelief look Abby had been giving her. Abby bought one hand up to her lips, deciding not to fight Ellie’s words. Abby did like you more than a friend, but it scared her. The possibility of you saying “no” and rejecting her, haunts her more than she realized. Maybe she did try to replace you with someone who couldn’t even compete with you, lowering her own standards to a false sense of home and security. Her ex-girlfriend could never give her the same feelings that you had given her without a single touch, and Abby knew that.

“What felt real to you, Abby?”

I can't feel, feel her, novocaine for the pain, for the pain...