#but from the looks of it its a very quick thinking

[covenofagatha]

Practice makes perfect

Agatha makes you build up your stamina until she actually lets you fuck her

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: g!p reader, virgin!reader, sex, age gap, fleshlight, degradation, humiliation kink, Agatha is MEAN and reader very much gets off on it, premature ejaculation, masturbation, reader is a walking HR violation, cumming in pants

When Agatha Harkness finds out you’re a virgin, she actually laughs. 

You’re a junior in college interning at your dad’s multi-billion dollar company over the summer, a nepo-baby at its finest, and so what if you have the hots for the general counsel? So what if you get hard every single time she even looks in your direction? 

You try to flirt with her, you’re as bold as you can be without her going straight to HR, and yet she barely even gives you the time of day. Deep down, you can tell she likes you though. She humors you and doesn’t tell you to shut up whenever you start to talk, so that must mean something. The two of you have formed quite the relationship since the summer started, with you saying the filthiest things to her and her brushing them off as if they were casual anecdotes. 

“I’d make you feel so good, Agatha,” you tell her one day. “I’ll fill you up so nicely.”

It might be pushing the limits — it’s your third pathetic attempt this day at getting her to reciprocate, but she’s used to it by now; it hardly even fazes her. Everyone in the office knows that their boss’s daughter has a cock, and they also know that their boss’s daughter has a filthy mouth, always saying something vulgar and sarcastic. No one takes anything that comes from your lips as serious. You’ve been called a spoiled, entitled, rich bitch, told that you’re heartless for not giving a damn about anything, expelled from three high schools for the explicit jokes that you make.

But your “jokes” to Agatha are the only thing you’re serious about. 

She scoffs and rolls her eyes; at twenty-five years your senior, she has had plenty of experience with girls that promise her the world and barely deliver on any said promises made. “I’m not some quick college lay that lets you rub my upper thigh and pretends that you’ve found my clit, you know.” 

It’s your turn to scowl. “Who do you think I am?” you ask and she fixes you with a pointed glare from behind her desk. “I know where the clit is.” 

“How many women have you actually satisfied?” she asks and your cheeks heat up. You figured it would come up eventually, but now you don’t actually want to answer. You duck your head and Agatha makes a noise, not exactly surprised, but almost disappointed. “You think I’m going to let a virgin fuck me? You probably wouldn’t even last two seconds inside me.”

“Hey, I’d last longer than that,” you snap, your head shooting back up to look at her incredulously. You can feel a slight stirring in your lower stomach at the thought of blowing your load the instant she gets inside you and how she would most definitely mock you for it. 

Agatha raises an eyebrow and chuckles cruelly. “Honey, please. Go back to your desk and get your work done. I’m definitely not having sex with someone who can’t finish reading over a simple contract.” 

“Ha ha,” you deadpan, and she makes a face at you before you get up out of the chair in front of her desk you were lounging in. “Might have to go to the bathroom real quick and jerk one off though.” 

She crinkles her nose and waves her hand at you dismissively and you think that you’ve just blown all your chances with her. She’s definitely not going to want to fuck you now. There is some speculation floating around about your lack of experience and that’s why you overcompensate with the explicit things you say — libel you tell them, but deep down it’s accurate — and if Agatha, who has certainly had her fair share of partners, knows it’s real, then she for sure won’t waste her time with you. 

So you go back to your desk and begrudgingly get all your work done, emailing Agatha your thoughts about the contracts when you’re all done. She sends back a Very good job, y/n and you hate to admit that it gets you hard. You’d like nothing more than to go fuck yourself in the restroom but you stay at your cubicle until Agatha walks by so you can see her before she leaves for the day. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you call after her as she breezes by your desk without saying a word. It’s the last day of the third fiscal quarter today, and as a reward, tomorrow your dad is bringing his executive staff to your beach house in The Hamptons for a week. Because you’re part of the family, you get to attend, but none of the other interns do. 

It’s been this way since you were little, but only recently did you start to notice how attractive Agatha was. The way she takes absolutely no shit from anyone, even from your dad. The way she coolly holds her ground in the face of IRS audits, FBI raids, and anything else that got thrown at her. The way she raises an eyebrow at you when you say something stupid and it makes your cock hard in seconds. Everything about her drives you fucking wild. 

Agatha lifts a hand up in response, not even bothering to look over her shoulder at you, and your pants tighten almost uncomfortably. 

The second you get back to your apartment, you undo your belt and unzip your pants, reaching inside to take out your hard and leaking cock. Your hips thrust forward at the warmth from your hand and you gasp, the pleasure already dizzying. You think about Agatha on her knees in front of you, looking up at you through her glasses, telling you that you’re just a pathetic slut who will never be able to make her feel good. 

It takes three strokes of your hand before you grunt and your cock pumps out three long spurts of cum all over the kitchen counter. You grab a paper towel, dampen it, and then wipe up your mess before going to take a shower. 

You might have a serious problem. 

And it’s only going to get worse this week. An entire seven days where you’re going to be around her. There isn’t a doubt in your mind that you’re going to be hard for most of it. Is there a record for the most times a person has cum in a day? Because you think you might break it. 

That night, you have a dream about Agatha, as many of your dreams are. She’s sitting in a chair right by the bed, legs outstretched and open and her feet are resting on the duvet. You’re laying stomach-down, cock hard between your body and the covers, mouth watering. Agatha is completely naked, her cunt glistening, and the dream is so realistic that you can smell her. She laughs when you groan pitifully. 

Then she buries two fingers inside her and your hips lurch against the bed, gasping at the stimulation on your cock. 

“Look at you, humping the bed like a bitch in heat,” she snarls and your rhythm stutters. You garble out something incoherently and she laughs before rubbing her clit with her other hand. “Can’t even fuck me right, so I have to do it myself.” 

You moan loudly, grinding against the bed furiously, and she picks up her thrusts to match your face. “I can, please, I want to,” you beg before she cums all over her fingers. She pulls them out of her and then slides them into your mouth and you cum all over the bed and your stomach. 

When you jerk awake right after that, the first thing you notice is how sticky you are. You must have cum in your underwear from just your dream and it’s just further evidence of how completely fucked you are for the next week. 

There will certainly be no swimming for you because you don’t need the entire executive board and your father knowing that you’re getting hard for the forty-six year old general counsel. 

But fuck, Agatha in a swim suit — 

You cut yourself off from the thought because you don’t have enough time to get worked up again. 

Good thing too, because by the time you do get yourself all cleaned up from your little nighttime accident, you have to leave to get to the helicopters. 

There’s no sign of Agatha yet so you make awkward small talk with Rio Vidal, the head of Human Resources, because you have nothing better to do. She’s new and attractive, but no one gets your cock stirring like Agatha. You wonder if it’s the fact that she’s older and it taps into your mommy issues, or the fact that she can cut you down with a simple sentence and you’ve found that you have a huge thing for degradation, or the fact that she’s never going to let you touch her no matter how hard you beg. 

She drives you crazy and you fucking need her. 

Finally, Agatha pulls up in a company car and gets out, wearing a gray pantsuit, and you already feel your face heating up. She gets into one of the two helicopters without even looking at you and you make a beeline for it before your dad stops you and pulls you into the other one. You can’t exactly tell him that you want to be next to his general counsel, so you grumble to yourself before agreeing. 

It takes only about forty-five minutes to get to the house and the next hour is full of unpacking and the wait staff running around, trying to get everyone everything they need. 

Lunch is served and everyone gathers in the dining room except for Agatha, so you excuse yourself and try to go find her. 

You’re just “happening” to be walking by her room when she opens the door to step out, almost bumping into you. 

“Your quick solo session take a bit too long?” you ask crassly, delighting in the way her eyes roll exasperatedly. “Next time, give me a call and I’ll get you there quickly.”

She starts walking to the dining room, leaving you behind so you have to speed to catch up. “If I ever want someone to cum after three pumps inside me and leave me even more unsatisfied than I was before, I’ll make sure to let you know.”

“Hey, I’d lay you badly, but I’d lay you gladly,” you say as seductively as possible and she snorts. “Come on, you gotta admit you’ve at least thought about it.” 

Agatha spares you a glance. “When I’m trying not to cum. It’s a real turn-off for me personally.”

You also love how she gives as good as she gets. “Please?” you ask, whine, beg. “I’ll be so good for you — I’ll make you feel so good.”

She sniffs and rakes her eyes over your body, pausing at the outline of your cock through your pants. Before you even realize what’s happening, she’s pushed you against the wall and her hand cups your cock and you gasp while bucking into her touch. 

“Really?” Agatha chuckles. You make a muffled sound and try to grind up and she rubs her palm against you, making you throb. “You think you could make me feel good with your cock that’s already about to cum for me?” 

“Yes,” you choke out and she squeezes harder. You’re panting open-mouthed now, trying so hard to hold back from your release. 

She is completely unaffected as she leans in to whisper, “You’re so fucking pathetic,” into your ear and you whimper, your stomach twists, and your cock pulses before pumping loads of cum into your pants. You chant swears under your breath while you cling to her arms for dear life and she watches amusedly as a stain spreads on your pants. 

You’ve never been more of a mess in your life and she just smirks smugly before giving your cock a patronizing pat. 

“I’ll tell your dad you’ll be a little late to lunch.” And then she walks away, leaving you completely agape against the wall, cock still twitching in your pants. 

It’s hard to make eye contact with her the rest of the day without heat flushing through your cheeks and the memory of what she did to you making your cock stir. 

The second you can escape after dinner, you do. You fully intend on spending the rest of the night fucking yourself silly and trying to rid your brain of Agatha.

But around ten, there’s a knock on your door and you swing it open to find Agatha standing there in silk, navy pajamas and black glasses. Your jaw drops open and she brushes right past you to walk into your room and tosses something on the bed. 

A fleshlight. 

“What—” you start to say, but you can’t even finish your question because all the blood in your brain has rushed down to your cock in record time. 

Agatha turns to face you, hands on her hips, lips pursed. “Show me that you can last five minutes with it—” nods at the toy, “—and we’ll see about me letting your cock anywhere close to me.” 

Your breaths come out staggered and you stumble over to the bed, head spinning. There’s no way this is actually happening. You shove down your sweatpants and boxers and your cock bobs up, rigid and hard and leaking copious amounts of precum. 

“God, already?” she snorts and your cock twitches. “You’re so fucking desperate, aren’t you?” 

A muffled whimper escapes your lips and you give yourself a quick stroke. “Fuck.” You reach for the fleshlight, heat completely overwhelming your body, but she stops you first. 

“Spit on yourself,” she orders and you watch her with wide and pleading eyes as a strand of saliva drops from your mouth onto your cock. You feel like you’re in a trance as you spread it out along your length, the wetness of your spit and precum coating your cock and making it glisten in no time. “Fucking pathetic.” 

Her jeers only make you harder and this time, she doesn’t object when you grab the toy. You think you can hear her sharply inhale when you drag your cock against the fake pussy lips and you already know there’s no fucking way you’re going to last one minute, let alone five. 

“Wanna fuck you like this,” you babble before pushing your tip in and instantly freezing at the silicone ridges squeezing around you. You sigh heavily before your breathing quickens and you’re practically panting by the time you get your entire cock inside the fleshlight. 

Agatha’s face is unreadable. “I’m impressed you made it in,” she says, coldly and completely dry, and it makes you thrust into it. It feels so good, even though it’s just a cold, plastic toy and you can only imagine how the real thing would feel. “Well, get on with it. Chop chop, honey. I haven’t got all night to watch your sorry attempt at proving you can fuck me.” 

You grunt and start moving your cock in and out of the toy, whines falling out of you, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut to focus on not cumming too soon. You want to last — you need to last for her, because she might actually let you touch her if you. 

“Ah ah,” she tuts and your cock throbs. “Open your eyes.” 

You obey, and the moment you see her, see the slight redness of her cheeks, you know you fucked up. 

With a loud grunt, you cum in the toy, filling it with so much of your seed that it spills out of the fake cunt and drips onto the floor as you continue snapping your hips up. 

Agatha laughs and walks straight to the door. “Not even thirty seconds. Maybe next time.” 

You are absolutely fucked. 

The next night, you’re almost to two minutes while desperately trying to think of anything else other than Agatha standing right there. She’s watching intently, like she’s studying your technique and critiquing it in her head, and you’re doing really well — you think you might actually have a chance to get to five. The secret is thinking about all the boring contracts you had to read this summer to keep your mind off the overwhelming pleasure you’re getting from the toy.

But then Agatha steps closer to you, runs a finger over your lips and down to cup your breast, and says, “God, you really are just a baby, aren’t you?” so sickly sweet. 

It makes you curse before filling the toy up again, your body completely betraying you. 

“That wasn’t fucking fair,” you try to argue. 

She sticks out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “Oh, honey,” she coos and it’s so fucking condescending. Your cock twitches inside the toy. “It’s not my fault you’re so pathetic you can’t control yourself.”

“Yes, it is,” you whine and she rolls her eyes. 

“We’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe you should cum before I get here so you might have a chance at lasting for five minutes,” she taunts and you’re too embarrassed to tell her that you already got off before she came tonight. Clearly it did not work. 

You figure that maybe you just need to cum more throughout the day to build up some stamina. You fuck yourself with the fleshlight in the morning after you wake up with morning wood because surprise, surprise: you had another dream about Agatha. When she takes a sip of her orange juice at breakfast, eyes flicking up to meet yours as she sucks on the straw, you have to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and it only takes you about six strokes before you’re cumming all over your hand. It’s a long day of lounging around the pool and hushed conversations, and the moment Agatha steps out onto the desk in a sensible one-piece, you have to wrap a towel around your waist so no one sees your erection through your swim trunks to run back to your room, hastily saying that you forgot sunscreen. You cum into the fleshlight in about three minutes. 

And about thirty minutes before she shows up to your room at 10 pm on the dot, you have another quick session with your hand. 

You are absolutely determined tonight. 

When she strolls in through the door, the air is different. She’s carrying a glass of Scotch and you snatch it as she walks past you, downing the rest in one sip. 

“Are you even old enough to drink?” she asks, eyebrow raised and giving you a once over. 

You laugh sarcastically before setting the cup down on the nightstand and tearing your shirt off over your head, not missing the way her gaze flicks down to your nipples. Usually, you just take your boxers off, but tonight, you want her to see all of you. 

“A little arrogant, hm?” 

Nodding your head, you spit onto your cock and stroke it to full hardness. This is also the first time you haven’t had a raging erection the second she arrived. Before she can say anything, you’ve grabbed the fleshlight and started thrusting your cock into it. It feels good, but you’ve become so desensitized to it, just from today, that you’re feeling more confident than ever. 

Agatha realizes this, sees it on your face. “Wow, look at my slut,” she croones. “She finally learned how to fuck herself. Doesn’t mean you can fuck someone else though. I bet the moment you get inside me, you’ll cum because you’re too fucking pathetic to actually make me feel good.” 

The degradation goes straight to your cock and you grunt, pausing for a second before resuming. The smirk on her face is as frustrating as it is hot and only makes it harder to think clearly. 

“You’re just a worthless little whore, aren’t you?” she snarls and your breaths become shallow and your thrusts become more like quick ruts into the toy. 

“Yes, fuck,” you moan quietly, tightly, and god she’s not playing fair at all. The toy is squeezing you so hard and it’s becoming tougher to keep fucking it, but the prize of getting to be inside Agatha is so close if you can just hang on. 

She scoffs sharply but you can see the heat on her face. Fuck. She likes this. “How are you not absolutely humiliated by yourself and how desperate you are?” she says, getting meaner, and precum is leaking out of the toy each time you drive your cock back into the toy. If you weren’t actively using all of your effort to keep from cumming, you think you would’ve filled up the fleshlight at least three times by now. Agatha is trying so hard to break you, but you refuse. 

The most excruciating five minutes of your life finally end, and you are so fucking triumphant. “We had a deal,” you remind her hoarsely. 

“Stop acting like lasting five minutes is an accomplishment,” she scorns and you have to pull the toy off your aching erection or you actually might cum. Your cock bobs up and down, trails of precum dripping onto the floor and down your length. You’ve made such a mess. “Get on the bed,” she orders, and your heart stops. 

You lay on the duvet, resting your back against the pillows, and watch with bated breath as Agatha slowly unbuttons her pajama shirt. You whine when you can see her tits, round and perky, and you need to get her rosy nipples in your mouth immediately. She takes off her shorts and you can’t help but hump the air, your cock engorged and neglected. 

“Please,” you sob. “It hurts so fucking bad.”

She mockingly coos and then climbs onto the bed with her underwear still on, straddles your hips, and she slowly grinds against your cock. A loud, high-pitched keen tears itself out of your mouth and you buck up into her, but she tsks and hovers above you. “Patience, pet,” she says and there are literal tears in your eyes from how hard you are. 

Agatha reaches down and pulls her panties to the side and rubs her clit for a moment. 

“Can I—”

“—touch me? No. There’s no way you’d make it inside me then,” she sneers and you hate to admit that she’s right. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your cock jumping when she slides two fingers in herself. Your head is spinning, completely drunk with need for her. 

She takes pity on you and grabs your cock, angling it at her entrance. “It’s okay, honey. You’re just a little baby. My little, pathetic, desperate baby.” 

And then she slides down on your cock in one slick motion and your hands scramble to dig into the bedsheets and a loud, strangled moan comes out of your mouth, and you cum instantly, the feeling of her warm, wet walls around you too much to bear. 

To her credit, she doesn’t laugh as you rut into her frantically. She just waits for you to finally calm down before squeezing her cunt around you. It makes you gasp. “I knew you couldn’t last,” she says, slowly starting to bounce up and down your cock. 

“Too sensitive,” you whine and she clucks her tongue. 

“Well, you promised that you were going to fuck me, didn’t you?” 

Your cock has softened inside her, your cum starting to leak out of her pussy, and she collects it with her fingers and starts to rub her clit. Her walls spasm around you and you twitch. You nod your head and bite your lip — she is everything you’ve ever wanted. 

It takes a few minutes of Agatha clenching around you to bring you back to full hardness, a speedy recovery even by your standards, and she starts to ride you for real. 

“Good thing you’re the poster child for instant gratification,” she grunts, lifting herself up and then back down. There’s such a mess between the two of you that there’s squelching sounds each time she moves on you. You’re practically frozen beneath her and all you can do is watch as she fucks herself on you. “Just need to make you cum before actually being able to use you. I’ll train you so well, make you nothing into more than a cock for me to fuck.” 

You finally regain the ability to think and start desperately thrusting up into her, needing more than anything to make her moan, to make her cum. She’s riding you faster and harder and her chest is becoming flushed and you think she might actually be getting somewhere. 

But she squeezes around you again and fucking groans and you never stood a chance. “Fuck, fuck, fuck — Agatha, I’m gonna — fuck!” you cry and erupt inside her again, painting her walls white once again. You’re not even sure if you made it five minutes inside her. 

Agatha slows down on top of you and you wince at the overstimulation of her still wrapped around you. 

“Did you?” It’s a stupid question, one you already know the answer to, but you’re hoping that maybe you got it wrong. 

Her laugh tells you that you did not and she slides off you, your cock flopping against your stomach in a sticky puddle, and she grabs the edge of the blanket on your bed to wipe the globs of cum oozing out of her. Fuck. You’ll never be able to use that blanket without getting hard again and you know that you’ll be fucking the fabric every single day for the rest of your life. 

She flops down next to you and you wonder if it would be foolish to ask her to stay. “It’s not that easy to make me cum, pet. But don’t worry. I’ll get you there.”

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights

[lila-kriegerin]

OMG, OP!

I was just about to suggest "Now & Then "

but I saw it in your tags.

I'm so sorry this may look like an unhinged rant no one asked for, but someone has to tell people younger than me what I know, so I spent 2 hours crafting a reply/follow-up/addendum to you post, OP. Please forgive any formatting errors. I tried to keep things simple and engaging but a few things may look a little bit odd depending on what sort of device you're viewing it on. I couldn't take the risk of making all the text too small

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RQLVzTtt2Ws

The biggest problem trying to find similar films is that they often involve at least two of the girls having some kind of relationship to boys causing drama (I'm looking at you, "Sisterhood Of The Travelling Pants "... and others) whereas a film like "Dead Poets Society " is definitely in that pseudo-homoerotic and explicitly homoerotic range of storytelling.

Why do you think "Little Women" was popular for so long? It was the 1oth century literary equivalent with the requisite brush with death and loss so common to an era before even antibiotics existed... and loss and grief still happen today.

It's true that so few are like "Newsies " and "West Side Story ", but DON'T sleep on hits like "Annie" &

🥁 drumroll, please 🥁

Want to guess what was the first obviously gay song featured in a film from Hollywood (after the Hayes Code)?

The First Gay Anthem: Calamity Jane's 'Secret Love'

It's not "West Side Story " because it's a western frontier musical, and they skirted the lines as hard as they could to have a nice Christian young woman fancying a "tomboy": Calamity Jane (who by historical record seems to have favoured women and men).

Though based on American Western folklore, this premise clearly imitated the successful 1950 film version of Irving Berlin's Broadway musical Annie Get Your Gun, about Wild West sharpshooter Annie Oakley.

But instead of a make-over, Calamity Jane gives its tough-gal heroine a powerfully symbolic pistol; her masculine aggression plays with sexual identity through gestures enlarged to the point of farce. And then it goes deeper--into emotional confusion that grows from Jane taking on supposed male habits. Doris Day brings comic overstatement to Jane's complex repression of her own instincts. Like many a closet case, she exhibits a self-defeating willingness to fit into a male-dominated culture. Her tough mannerisms are also designed to protect her hidden, vulnerable emotions.

You have to dig.

Dig deep, and be willing to watch a film with a different spoken language and culture, but there are some parallels.

Consider the Britney Spears film, which I believe is called "Crossroad(s)" in English. [Sorry, I don't have time to look up the title.]

Now— what if there were a film that's something a bit like a lesbian equivalent?

Touch

A Chinese movie produced/sponsored by the sapphic dating app Rela. It follows three girls on a road trip. Chinese language with English subtitles.

I've never, EVER seen any website draw direct comparisons to other films that way, such as:

If you loved "She's The Man" but want it more sapphic (though ultimately thwarted by the producer), you can't miss "Bend It Like Beckham"!

The photo which was posted by OP DOES contain valid points!! (No one is going to treat you "like a man/boy" unless they truly think that's what you are, and society DOES socialise people differently, so: how would a group of teenage girls or very young adult women ever have experiences identical to those in a film like "Dead Poet's Society"?)

Nevertheless, there are some similar films that are comparable:

"Superbad" — "Booksmart".

I decided to hyperfocus trying to think up some equivalents to "Dead Poet's Society".

Here's a quick comparison I spent far too much time on:

If you’re looking for a Dead Poets Society equivalent with mostly female characters, a few films capture that same blend of deep emotional intimacy, artistic passion, and repressed desire. Here are the best contenders:

1. Mädchen in Uniform (1931 & 1958)

This is the OG queer boarding school drama. Set in a strict Prussian girls' school, it follows a young student, Manuela, who falls in love with her teacher, Fräulein von Bernburg. The film is explicitly homoerotic in a way that Dead Poets Society is only suggestive of—there’s longing glances, whispered affections, and a stifling environment that tries to crush individuality and desire. Like Neil, Manuela faces tragic consequences for daring to express herself.

Cracks (2009) — If Dead Poets Society were darker and more explicitly about queer desire, it would be Cracks. This film follows a group of girls at a remote British boarding school under the spell of their charismatic teacher, Miss G (Eva Green, in all her seductive, unhinged glory). When a new student arrives, power struggles and hidden obsessions unravel. It has all the repression, poetry, and tragic queerness you could want.

Heavenly Creatures (1994) — Peter Jackson (yes, Lord of the Rings Peter Jackson) directed this feverishly intense drama about two schoolgirls in 1950s New Zealand—Pauline and Juliet—whose bond becomes so consuming that it leads to murder. Like Dead Poets Society, it’s about breaking free from repression, but it takes a much darker turn. The homoerotic tension between the girls is undeniable, and the fantasy world they create as an escape mirrors the way the DPS boys use poetry to carve out their own space in a suffocating environment.

Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975) — This one’s all about atmosphere—a haunting, dreamlike film about a group of girls at an Australian boarding school who mysteriously vanish during a picnic. While there’s no overt romance, the film is full of lingering touches, dreamy stares, and a pervading sense of longing and repression. The rigid Victorian setting and the contrast between the natural world and societal constraints make it feel spiritually connected to DPS.

The Falling (2014) — Starring Florence Pugh and Maisie Williams, this film is weird and hypnotic. It’s set in an all-girls school in the 1960s and follows a mysterious fainting epidemic that spreads through the students. It has the same themes of teenage rebellion, deep female friendships that tip into obsession, and an oppressive institution trying to crush individual expression.

Céline and Julie Go Boating (1974) — This is a more whimsical, surreal take on female friendship and creativity. It follows two women who fall into a bizarre, looping story in a haunted house, constantly re-experiencing and altering the narrative. It has a Dead Poets Society vibe in the sense that it’s about escaping rigid reality through art and imagination, but with a queer-coded, magical twist.

If you want the closest equivalent to "Dead Poets Society"...

..."Mädchen in Uniform" or "Cracks" are your best bets, and Cracks more than Mädchen in Uniform

because the latter is so old fashioned that to further scandalise viewers they paired a teacher with a student.

If you want something more poetic and atmospheric, "Picnic at Hanging Rock" or "The Falling" will scratch that itch.

If all of that is too gay for you (gofuckyourself, tee-hee)

You really, REALLY should try

"Mona Lisa Smile".

(...and if it's not too gay for you, then go watch CRACKS right now!)

"Mona Lisa Smile" [hereafter referred to as MLS] is often called the "Dead Poets Society" [hereafter, DPS] for women, and yeah, it certainly hits a lot of the same beats—

an outsider teacher inspiring students to challenge societal norms,

a prestigious school that values obedience over individuality, and

a group of young people grappling with expectations that threaten to suffocate them.

Where DPS is about breaking free through poetry and self-expression, MLS is about that sort of thing tosome degree, but more about feminism, gender roles, and the fight for intellectual freedom in a world that wants women to be just wives and mothers.

Similarities to Dead Poets Society

The Inspirational Teacher as a Catalyst for Change

In DPS, John Keating (Robin Williams) shakes up Welton Academy’s rigid, tradition-obsessed environment with poetry and passion.

In MLS, Katherine Watson (Julia Roberts) does the same at Wellesley College, using art history to challenge her students’ pre-ordained roles as perfect housewives.

Both teachers are NOT merely instructing— they’re awakening their students, making them see the world differently, and often doing so in ways that put them at odds with their school’s administration.

The Oppressive Institution and Its Ideals

Welton Academy is a suffocating prep school that values discipline over creativity, much like Wellesley College in the 1950s. They outwardly promote academic excellence but ultimately groom women to become ideal wives. (T_T)

Both films show how these institutions uphold deeply ingrained traditions that resist change, even when it's clearly needed.

Both films show some of the human cost of trying, and giving up.

A Group of Students at a Crossroads

Just like Todd, Neil, and the rest of the DPS boys who struggle between expectation and their own desires, the young women in MLS— Joan, Betty, Giselle, and Connie—each navigate their own battles between societal pressure and personal ambition.

Joan (Julia Stiles) mirrors Todd.

Betty (Kirsten Dunst) is like a mix of Cameron and Richard from DPS.

Giselle (Maggie Gyllenhaal) is the Charlie of the group.

The Tragedy of Repression

DPS’s tragedy is clear: someone's dreams are crushed & there is a heartbreaking su*c*de [all the trigger warnings apply]. MLS doesn’t have a singular moment that tragic, but its heartbreak is quieter—seeing some brilliant young women choose societal expectations over their own ambitions because it feels like the only option... that is definitely going to haunt some people more than it may haunt white cis-hetero male viewers.

In both films, someone (one you probably like most of all, in both films) will have something horrible happen to them by their own choice, and that is very haunting.

Additionally, I dont think it's too big a spoiler to say oth films end with the teacher leaving— but to say why would spoil the endings of the films.

The last scenes mirror each other emotionally: in DPS & MLS, a quiet, bittersweet goodbye with both endings suggesting that while the teacher is gone, the ideas they planted will live on.

Key Differences

The Central Conflict

DPS is about breaking free from repression through art and poetry. It’s about passion, self-expression, and the fight for creative freedom.

MLS is about that too, though with more of a (*cough*white*cough*cough*) feminist focus on gender roles, feminism, and intellectual independence to have intellectual and self growth as an individual— and it asks whether women can truly be free when they’re still expected to conform to outdated expectations.

Homoerotic "Sub"text

[be honest: if you miss it in either film you're in denial or unobservent and that is your own journey you need to take]

DPS is filled with homoerotic tension, especially between Todd and Neil. The intimacy between the boys—the longing glances, the whispered poetry, the emotional weight of their friendships—feels deeply charged.

If you DEMAND that level of queerness, MLS ain't it.

MLS has some queer subtext, particularly with [one character], who is coded as more fluid in her sexuality, but the film doesn’t lean into that as much as DPS does because it's focused more on the pseudo-historical narrative from the book upon which it was based.

Don't forget that DPS came out to cinemas...

THEN "The Craft" did,

THEN "Cruel Intentions" did,

THEN MLS.

DPS was intentionally pushing boundaries of censors for queer story-telling when the USA was still afraid for gay people to peck each other with a little kiss on the lips on television before 10 PM.

DPS ends in a tragedy that reinforces the cost of defying the system— [spoilers redacted], and the boys are [narratively] left in a state which leaves the viewers feeling a bittersweet limbo.

MLS is perhaps a bit more hopeful; and although the school seemingly remains unchanged, things in that world have definitely shifted for the characters.

Their worlds aren't fully transformed though for MLS, it’s beginning to open up, but MLS leaves viewers with their own bittersweet limbo like DPS[-lite] with a sliver of a dash of hope.

Final Verdict:

"Mona Lisa Smile" is "Dead Poets Society" through a differing feminist lens.

It swaps poetry for art,

an all-boys school for an all-girls college, and

queer-coded male friendships for female students fighting for their intellectual freedom.

It has the same spirit—

a teacher who inspires students to think for themselves, an oppressive institution trying to maintain order, and young people wrestling with societal expectations.

However, where DPS is a tale of tragic repression, MLS leans toward quiet rebellion— not a fiery "O Captain, My Captain" moment, but a slow, steady push toward change.

just saw this on pinterest and it hit me like a truck

[goldfades]

joe burrow x popstar

watching edits together and getting so surprised by how freaky ppl are

warnings: nothing but fluff!!!

It starts with Joe’s arm slung lazily over the back of the couch, his thumb absentmindedly brushing the bare skin of your shoulder. The TV flickers in front of you, some forgettable show playing in the background, its dialogue drowned out by the comfortable silence you’ve both perfected over time. It’s the kind of quiet that doesn’t need filling.

Your phone is in your lap, screen dim until curiosity—or maybe boredom—gets the best of you. A harmless scroll through social media, a pit stop at the tagged photos section, and suddenly you’re spiraling.

“Oh my God,” you blurt out, sitting up straighter, your thumb jabbing the screen with newfound urgency. “Joe. Joe, look at this.”

He leans in without hesitation, chin practically resting on your shoulder, his body radiating that signature warmth. His eyes squint a little, adjusting to the smaller screen, before widening in real time as the video plays—a fan edit, dramatic music swelling, quick cuts of the two of you like you’re the lead roles in some forbidden romance movie. Except it’s not just stolen glances and soft smiles. No, these people are bold.

Very bold.

Joe’s brow arches, mouth falling open slightly. “Is that—did they just—”

“They did.”

You don’t even finish the sentence because the next clip is somehow worse—or better, depending on how you look at it. And honestly, you’re not sure if you want to laugh, cry, or throw your phone across the room.

“Why is it in slow motion?” Joe asks, genuinely perplexed, his voice low and warm against your ear.

“Because that makes it dramatic,” you deadpan, thumb hovering over the screen like it might self-destruct. “Obviously.”

Joe snorts, the sound bursting out of him, and that’s what does it—you both dissolve into laughter, the kind that leaves you breathless and aching. He leans back, his head hitting the cushion with a soft thud, one hand clutching his chest like the sheer absurdity physically hurts.

“Play it again,” he gasps between laughs.

You oblige, because how could you not? The video is somehow funnier the second time around, now that you’re prepared for the dramatic zooms and questionable song choice (yes, False God by Taylor Swift). Joe wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, shaking his head.

“Do people really think we look at each other like that?” he asks, trying to catch his breath.

You glance at him, the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the faint flush on his cheeks, the curve of his smile.

“I mean,” you tease, nudging his knee with yours, “they’re not completely wrong.”

His laughter softens into something quieter, something warmer. He shifts, leaning in again, his hand finding yours without thinking, fingers threading together like they always do. The TV is still on, the fan edit paused mid-dramatic frame, but none of that matters now.

“Yeah,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Guess they’re not.”

And just like that, the absurdity of fan edits fades into the background, leaving only the warmth of his gaze, the comfort of his touch, and the quiet realization that maybe the fans see something you’ve both known all along.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[newkatzkafe2023]

Well... since bed breaking was briefly mentioned in the last request 😏

How would the monkey kings react to the bed breaking from smexy times with their s/o? Whether its the bed from an inn or their own bed. 🤭

Little addon with how it often it happens

I want to have you in my bed🛏🤭

(Lmk Wukong) You guys were going while one Saturday night, you both just got back from a romantic date and wanted to finish the night with a bang. Ohhhhhhhhh you finish it with a bang indeed because you both went so hard and so fast, that your brains weren't only scrambled but you broke your beds in half scaring the baby monkies who heard it. The next morning you both sat on the ground a bit mortified from how wild things got, however you both wouldn't mind doing it again You just need to make sure you had a back up bed to sleep on.

(HIB Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhh he's embarrassed and shocked, at what just happened, he knew he can get a bit crazy but this never happened before. Wukong and you haven't done anything in a long time together due to some random circumstances, or being caught up in childcare. Now you both had to figure out how to replace the bed before your kids or god forbid pigsy wakes up and sees, or your both will be doomed.

(MKR Wukong) Oh man do you know how many inns you both would get banned from, because of your shared Staminas. Sometimes Wukong would get aroused when you both would still have excess adrenaline from the battlefield, and with that you both would wrestle and rock the bed. Of course your gonna break it in half in a fit of wild passion, the next morning you both were scolded by your master for what happened at the inn. Unfortunately for him you both have no regrets and would probably do it in some other in too.

(NR Wukong) I can see him saying if the bed isn't broken then I'm not doing it right. However he tends to end up taking you to hotels and motels because you guys broke your bed at home, in a night of passion. He knows damn well your shared bed at home would not survive your mating sessions. Which is why he'll do you in a hotel bed he would book them on the weekends so nobody gets suspicious 🤭

(Netflix Wukong) WoW I see getting started by the bed breaking,especially when he was so focused on your shared pleasure You didn't hear any cracking from the bed. Then the next thing you both knew you and your bed were on the floor, now knocking his skinny ass he would brag about this to you until your ears fall off. Wukong would be Remembering this quite fondly for years to come, especially when he made his wife pass out in bed.

(BMW Wukong) Yooooo his ego would punch a Huge hole in the roof To the point where there's Barely any roof left. Wukong loves to go absolutely wild when it comes to you his queen, mating sessions usually last to the Crack of dawn. With that knowledge, it's no wonder your guys bed broken half You both can no longer Control yourselves or learn how to stop for a break. Though that's clearly a problem for later because you're both too addicted to each other to care at the moment.

(Destined one) THIS POOR MONKEY NOY WOULD DIE OF EMBARRASSMENT IF ANYONE FOUND OUT HE BROKE HIS BED SCREWING YOU TO INFINITY!!!!! the Destined one has a reputation of being calm, collected quiet, Disciplined, focus, strict and combat ready. If anyone finds out he lost control to the point where The result is broken furniture, it's over for him that's why the next morning he's quick to check out of the inns you stay in and actively runaway🏃‍♂️.

(Lotmk Wukong) Poor thing is gonna think he's gonna be in big trouble, you both don't do mate very often. Though when you do...boy it's quite a doozy that your gonna need some time to recover from, however this time you did a big uh oh. Wukong and you wrestle to hard that that a part of the bed of the inn you checked in broke, and you both looked at each other in fear. Luckily it was late at night and nobody heard it...the next morning you both made sure to be the first to wake up and leave with the group before anyone found out🤐.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🛏

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

Blankets & Burdens

Summary: Sometimes, just sometimes, she catches him flinch.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Very brief mentions of childhood abuse. Brief mention of Merle (He's always a warning). Mostly fluffy with just a sprinkling of angst.

A/N: This is a chapter from a Daryl series I'm writing, but I wanted to see if it would be of interest to anyone before I start posting chapters.

-

Daryl is great in a fight, hell of all people she’s ever met if she wanted anyone to fight with it’d be Daryl, he’s quick and instinctive and strong, but sometimes, sometimes she catches the flinch. Not the usual flinch of being hit, the flinch that tells for a split second he remembers. The flinch of the little boy he used to be, the flinch that makes her see him scared and sad and alone. The flinch that makes her see fucking red.

He barely bats an eyelid at walkers, they’re as easy to him as Squirrels now, but when the bigger man’s fist is millimetres from his face she sees him flinch as if watching it in slow motion. She barely remembers moving until she finds herself standing over his lifeless body with her hands bloody. He’s easily almost double her size, hefty as well as strong but fingertips drip onto the ground with a deafening thud that she should barely be able to hear.

There’s a tremor in her hands as she looks at them, she’d like to blame the cold for it but she knows it isn’t the weathers fault. It’s been hotter than Satan’s asshole for weeks, so why they had to go hunting on the coldest day of the damn apocalypse she’ll never know but she hasn’t turned down an invitation for his company yet. He asks if she wants to join and the easy answer of yes rolls off her tongue before she’s even thought about his question. She’d say yes to anything as long as he asked.

“Thanks”

His voice startles her out of her thoughts, and she knows him well enough to know that’s on purpose, so she raises a fleeting smile in his direction suddenly feeling warmer just for having looked at him. She clenches her fist to try and calm the movement in her hand, just missing the way his gaze flicks down and back up in time to clock it. He’s observant to an alarming degree.

“Always”

Daryl’s arm cracks loudly as he pulls the blade out of the mans torso, grunting as he adjusts it in its socket to make sure he hasn’t just dislocated it. She nods towards it as he awkwardly hands her the machete back, trying to ignore the fact his fingers touch hers, trying to ignore the way it electrifies him or the way she shakes.

“You okay?”

“’m fine”

He brushes her off as if the joint doesn’t sting, as if his whole body doesn’t hurt already when he wakes up, as if any of them have been okay since everything started. Sure, the prison is a million times better than being on the road, but its not exactly comfortable and he doubts anything will ever be safe again; what’s a little shoulder pain if not another inconvenience on top of a never ending plethora of inconveniences.

-

There’s a fire going that night. It burns just outside the courtyard where they’ve dragged a handful of chairs to hide, enough behind a building to be out of the line of sight from the walkers gathering by the fence. He watches for a moment as she tries to warm herself up, still delicate hands running the length of her arms as she stares at the flames in front of her. He’s been surprised that she’s managed to stay gentle in all of this, always a smile or a laugh for him but her face looks haunted.

He watches her more often than he’ll admit to, though he’ll admit to exactly zero watching if anyone dared to ask, which they wouldn’t because he still looks terrifying to most people. He’s definitely not in love with her, no way, he definitely doesn’t lay awake at night thinking about how he’d like to grow old with her. Zero thinking or watching, if anyone asked, thank you very much.

He toes his boot on the concrete as he tries to decide if he should leave her alone. He doesn’t, of course, because he can’t. Hasn’t been able to since he found her in a cabin in the woods with more holes than walls. Excuse after excuse to be close to her, and okay there’s a tiny spark of hope in him that feels like she seeks him out too, but he’s never allowed himself to entertain the blossom of it for more than a split second before his low self-esteem takes over.

“Ya alright?”

“Yeah”

Her voice sounds far away, quiet and floating in the middle distance as she stares through the fire without turning to look at him. He sits on a chair next to her, tapping his fingers against his jean covered knee to stop from reaching out to hold her hand or something equally embarrassing.

“Ya sure?”

“I didn’t even blink”

“Huh?”

“Saw you flinch and I just wanted him off you, didn’t even hesitate”

“Yeah” he doesn’t know what to say, he’s had the same urge for her countless times. He never hesitates; he likes the group, he really does despite his disposition, but he thinks they’d probably have to think twice if it was a decision to save him. He doesn’t have a response for knowing she wouldn’t.

“People talk you know? Stuff about your brother”

He grunts in acknowledgment, but he doesn’t have a response. Of all the places he thought this conversation might go, Merle never crossed his mind.

“I think maybe we’re not as different as you think we are. I saw the way you flinched, I…recognised it” She pauses for a beat, flicking her gaze up to him, catches the way he chews on his lip before she continues “I don’t know who or what-“

“I ain’t gon-“

“I’m not asking. I’m just sorry that’s not something you got to tell me in your own time”

He’s taken back by the care in the sentence, though he shouldn’t be. She’s given him pause numerous times with the amount of consideration she shows. He’s not the only observant one between them.

She shivers violently, bopping the soles of her trainer covered feet on the ground to make her body shake.

“Ya alright?”

“Freezing. Can’t get warm, been cold for fucking hours” She tries to laugh but he hears the way her teeth clench as she grits the sentence out. They’ve been back since before sundown, she should have warmed up by now.

“Ya want my jacket?”

“No, I think I’m going to bed” She pauses as she stands. Rests her hand on his shoulder with a firm but gentle squeeze, he resists the urge to gasp at how cold her hands are “Thanks though”

-

The gentle tap of knuckles against metal makes her lift her head. It’s quiet enough not to wake her if she’d been sleeping, and that alone tells her its Daryl before he even draws back the makeshift curtain. For all of his gruff exterior, considerations seeps from his every pore even without trying.

“Brought ya a blanket”

His voice is low, hushed and gruff at the edges but he holds it out to her like a kid who might get scolded for it. She shuffles up slightly, smiling at him in the dim light from the hallway.

“This your one?” She asks, knowing there’s hardly spare anything in this place anymore, taking it and bunching it up under her nose to inhale the smell of him, knowing it’ll look like she’s testing her theory instead of relishing it.

He doesn’t answer which is in itself an answer, she shakes her head, holding it back towards him.

“Jus’ take it”

She studies the way his sock clad feet twitch against the floor, the slightly wringing of his hands in front of him, nervous and shy in a way that’s so him but shouldn’t be.

“Want to share with me?”

“Nah, it’s okay”

She opens the blanket covering her with her free arm, refusing to take her eyes of his face to see if she’s imagining what’s been under the surface with them. It’s minute really, a split second that she’d have missed had she not been looking for it, but his eyes flick down to her bare legs, jaw clicking in what looks like restraint. She tilts her head to the side like a dog trying to understand a situation that seems familiar but isn’t.

“’Cause you don’t want to, or ‘cause you think I don’t?”

He doesn’t answer. Her options are push him out of his comfort zone or take his only blanket and neither seem like a great option, but he hasn’t stopped looking at her and he doesn’t seem like he wants to make a Daryl sized hole in any of the walls.

“Won’t even touch you if you don’t want me to”

A pause, a scoffed laugh under his breath. She expects him to ignore the tease entirely. He’s shy, tentative, she’s not even sure he feels anything like she does but he accepts the invitation with a stiff nod, closing the curtain behind him so the light blurs out. She can just about make out the solid shape of him as he steps forward.

He’s quiet at the best of times, hunting trained steps that are softer than they seem they would be, but he barely makes a sound until he’s sitting on the edge of her cot. Shaky sigh leaving barely parted lips as he eases his legs up onto the bed; sliding under the blanket she offers; throwing his own one on top of them both haphazardly.

“Didn’t say that, did I?”

He lifts his arm up, above her head, sucking in a sharp quiet breath when she burrows into the crook, resting her head on his firm bicep and avoiding his shoulder. Its not like he was expecting her to face the wall or anything, but he’ll never stop being shocked by the casual affection she offers.

“Don’t want to hurt your arm”

He huffs, using his other hand to shift her into a slightly more comfortable but closer position so her head Is resting on his chest. He studies the top of her head like it holds all the answers, like if he can just focus on the tip of her nose that he can see past her hairline he can magically work out what this means.

“Why ya s’ kind to me?” He whispers, as if he hasn’t spent all day caring for them all, hasn’t given up his blanket and his bed to keep her warm. He thinks she might have drifted off before she answers, soft voice low and drenched in the threat of sleep. Comfortable. Warm.

She moves a hand up to his chest, rests it over his heart so she can hear the steady thudding under her palm, presses her lips to the cold skin on his cheek

“Why don’t you think you deserve it?”

“Go t’ sleep”

A snort, dismissive in a way she normally wouldn’t let him get away with. Normally he’s not wrapped around her though, normally the beginnings of rest aren’t pulling behind her eyelids whilst he holds her.

“Goodnight Daryl”

[smgsyndicate]

Some Things Lost

Rain Ghoul Centric Amnesia Fic

Featuring Poly Ghouls Omega, Aether, Dewdrop, Mountain, and Rain

Before Phantom era

Small warnings for medical talk + amnesia + GAYYY + mentions an IV like . Once lmao

It's eyes opened in a flash, pupils dilating to accommodate the blinding white of the walls surrounding it. It - .. no, he couldn't stop a hiss of pain from slipping through his teeth, arms weak and shaking as they struggle to support his weight as he sits up. Cerulean eyes squeeze shut, trying to block out the light and the mounting headache seemingly caused by them.

"No- no- hey, slow down there. You're going to hurt yourself more." A soothing voice to his right said. The eyes opened again, body relaxing once they took in the space that's now dimly lit. He looked over to who was speaking, a tall and built quintessence ghoul, worriedly looking at him as if he would fade away in a moments notice. The being tilted his head, not sure what's quite going on. Unintelligently, he mumbles a small pained, "ow.."

The quint tries to fight down a chuckle but ultimately fails, a small but genuine smile gracing his features. It thinks the ghoul's smile is pretty. It suits him. He blinks, focusing back in as the bigger ghoul... Is he a ghoul too? Is he even a he? .. They blink . Again . Eyes focusing once again on the quint. "Rain, come on... That's it, there you go. Stay present. Stay here with me, okay?"

It lets out a small sound of confusion, head tilting. "Rain? It's raining? .. I like the rain I think ... But I'm definitely not moving. My head hurts." They mumble, hand moving to try and touch their head. The ghoul looks more worried than before, gently catching his hand and moving it away from his head. "No- no Rain, you can't touch that. Your bandages need to stay on for at least another day... Do you know who I am?"

'Rain' takes the moment to really study the other's features. A strong and large build, but not particularly muscular. Something tells him the other is very comfortable to lay on and is a great source of warmth, but when he tries to chase the train of thought, he winces in pain as his headache stabs back in defiance. A name draws blank in his mind, nothing familiar.

It slowly shakes it's head no, looking down in shame. It's eyes widen at the sight of plain white sheets and something sticking out of its arm. The smell of chemical is more distinct and it can identify the annoying insistent beeping of some machine. They look at there arm, seeing it connected through an IV to some sort of fluid.

The IV starts to feel itchy, so they try and pull it out only for the quintessence ghoul to stop them with a panicked noise. "Okay ... I think you have some sort of amnesia... But it's hard to tell what kind at this very moment, so I .." He frowns, sighing with an emotional shake in his voice. "We're going to take care of you Rain. We will help you relearn and hopefully get your memories back. You ... You were in a bad accident, but you're going to be okay. It's.. it's going to be okay."

They feel bad, a hesitant and remorseful expression on their face as if they want to ask a question. The other ghoul fights back their own emotions, trying to appear put together. "What do you want to ask?" It feels something on their head lower in embarrassment and they meekly ask, "Am.. I Rain?"

If it thought things couldn't feel worse, it was just proven wrong. The heart shattering expression on the other's face made it backpedal on its words. "Oh- I uhm. I was just joking! I ..." They fumbled over their words, trying to figure out how to make it better. The quint just took their hands in his, shaking his head silently to request them to stop speaking. "No, it's okay. You don't need to lie. If anything, I need you to tell the truth. .. Let's do quick introductions then, how about that?"

It nodded, hoping this ghoul could explain more about what's happening and why they're in the infirmary wing instead of their room. They hiss, trying to grip at their head as a stabbing pain starts up again. How did they know this was an infirmary and not a hospital? They have a room here? The quintessence ghoul quickly moves their hand away from their head, making gentle shushing sounds and soothing coos.

"Shh.. hey... It's okay.. it's okay... Don't try and force yourself to remember... It'll make it worse.." The other says apologetically. It makes their head hurt more. Why is he sorry? "Alright, I'll go first. My name is Aether, and I'm a quintessence ghoul. We are in a band together, which I play rhythm guitar for. I like the colour purple and astronomy. Your turn, if you're comfortable?" The ghoul nods slightly, 'Aether's' encouraging and hopeful tone spurring them on.

"My name is .. Rain ... And I . I'm in a band. I like the colour azure.. and ... My favourite song is Con Clavi?" Rain says with hesitation. Aether's proud and happy smile makes his tail wag, glad to know that he made the other happy. "Yes! Good job, Rain! You're also a water ghoul and you also play bass! Does that sound familiar?" The bigger ghoul's tail wags a bit as well, the basic memory inclining that it's not all memories, just sporadically missing pieces.

Rain shrugs with a small nod. "I guess? I don't know.." He mumbles self consciously, hands finding their way to the thin white sheets and rubbing them between his fingers anxiously. Aether's eyes soften when he catches the movement, tone gentler than before when he speaks. "It's alright. We will help you. It's going to be alright."

The whole situation feels like reliving a memory for Aether, having been the main one to guide Rain through the confusing life on Earth after his initial summoning. He sees himself and his role in the pack as a protector and a caretaker, happy to be that for his fellow ghouls that he loves and cares for so much. Right now, he sees that timid but oh so fierce water ghoul that once stood trembling but claws readied in middle of the summoning circle.

He struggles to see the confident but subdued personality he's come to grow used to as Rain got more comfortable being in this strange moral realm. Still, Aether manages a smile. "I'll leave you to rest then, but I'll be nearby. Call me, or press that button if you need anything, alright?" Rain looks thoughtful before nodding, honestly just thankful to have a moment to himself to try and process everything he's just been told.

As Aether goes to move away he hesitates before pushing a stray hair from Rain's bangs out of his face, kissing him lightly on the temple before stepping away with a longing and sorrowful expression. He exits the room, closing the door and pausing there before his breathing hitches and the first wave of tears roll down his cheeks.

The quintessence ghoul wipes them away with his arm angrily, upset at himself for mourning someone who can still be saved. Rain's not... Gone.. He's just... ... Aether's breathing stutters and he lets his weight rest against the door, slowly sliding to the floor with silent sobs. His water ghoul is still there, he just has to help him remember... But it's so.. painful watching someone revert to a husk of their former self.

Omega, one of the older quintessence ghouls in the ministry, was doing his rounds in the infirmary. He had heard about the situation with Rain and his injuries but hadn't learned the full extent. He went to check up on the newest water ghoul, eyes widening in alarm upon finding the crying quint. He rushes over, dropping to his knees next to Aether, quickly wrapping the smaller ghoul in a hug.

The position was awkward and definitely not super comfortable, but it was comforting and that's enough. Aether's silent cries became ugly sobs, crying into his mentor's chest while Omega tried to calm him down, running his fingers through his hair and lacing his touch with quintessence.

The ex-guitarist's mind raced with probabilities and statistics. The damage couldn't have been so severe as to kill Rain, could it? But the normally put-together quint in his arms suggested otherwise. "What's going on, nova?" He asked softly, knowing he needed the space to vent. Aether finally seemed to catch his breath, sniffling and using the heel of his palm to wipe the tears from his eyes.

New ones grew back in the old one's place, but he didn't seem to care. "Not... Not here." He whispered, voice breaking with the flood of emotions. Omega just nodded gently, helping the other to his feet. The rhythm ghouls make their way to the small office tucked away in the corner of the infirmary wing.

Aether lets himself fall into the chair, fighting back the tears again so he can explain to Omega what's going on. He takes a deep breath and steels himself, preparing to elaborate. "As you may know, better than anyone, some people in the clergy weren't so happy with Copia becoming Papa..." Omega winces, lips twitching into a frown as he remembers the gruesome dethroning of his Papa.

Aether brushes his tail against Omega's leg apologetically, a silent understanding lingering between them for a few moments. "There was a ... A trap. Set up for Copia. But Rain..." Aether closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the chair, hands gripping the arm rests as he tries to think of his next words. "Rain took the hit instead." He lets out a breath, a small whine slipping out alongside it. "No one knows if it was on purpose or not. He's, thankfully, going to be okay but.. his memory is all messed up and now there's a whole investigation going on, trying to figure out who's trying to hurt Papa and-"

Omega cuts him off with a hug, one that Aether easily leans into. His shoulders shake with the weight of his cries as he lets Omega comfort him again in such a short amount of time. "I'm sorry-" The older quint cuts him off quickly.

"Don't be. You have nothing to apologize for. Grieving for what you've lost does not make you weak, as long as you remember to cherish what you currently have. Dead flowers cause the moon to weep, but it's the new rain mixed with the compost that allows the new flora to flourish, in turn feeding the fauna. Everything will work out just fine, starlight."

Aether can't fight a smile from forming on his face, a wet laugh leaving him. "Where did all that just come from?" Omega stammers for a moment, flustered a bit but laughin along with him. "I thought it was a good metaphor! I thought I did great!" He says defensively, but his tone is so light and the large smile tells Aether he wasn't actually offended.

"It was. You did great, Megs." Aether says genuinely, vulnerability slipping into his tone as the laughter subsides. Aether gently holds Omega's face in his hands, gently pulling him closer for a quick kiss. "Thank you... I needed to hear that I think." Omega flushes, always shy under affection. "Uh.. yeah... No problem..."

The shy behaviour from his mentor is enough to lift the rhythm guitarist's spirits again. "I could use a second opinion, if you have a moment? I'm suspecting some retrograde amnesia, but I haven't tested if he remembers our conversation from earlier. He had difficulties remembering things about himself and me. He even said his favourite song was Con Clavi Con Dio! Can you believe it?" He said with a slight edge of hysteria in his voice.

Omega can't help the small chuckle at Aether's exasperation at the favourite song choice, but is mentally revising all the medical knowledge he has aqquired. While the exasperation is mostly for show, it was worrying to hear since anyone who had been around the bassist long enough knew that his favourite song was by far Prime Mover.

On one of his very few interactions alone with the quiet ghoul, he had been witness to a long winded explanation on why the bass line in particular was one of his favourites to play and how the drum track lined up in such a way that it was fun to perform as well. It's one of his favourite memories he has of the water ghoul, having thoroughly enjoyed that conversation.

"Well, let me see the patient." Omega says in his best professional voice, cracking a smile when Aether laughs at him. The closer they get to Rain's room, the more Aether's tail lowers with anxiety. Omega intertwines his tail with Aether's, pressing a kiss to his cheek in what he hopes is a reassuring gesture. When they're outside the door, they can hear voices from inside. Aether's eyebrows furrow as he opens the door, eyes wide in surprise as he sees Mountain speaking to a clearly confused and distraught Rain.

"And you're so stupid for that. I mean, honestly! Taking a hit like that? You're lucky I wasn't there or that sibling of sin would've been dead five times over, and then some. Papa should have body guards anyways! Why did you take the hit? Or, did they sneak up on you? How! You're a ghoul! A damn smart one too! You're luck you're so pretty or else I'd ... I'm not sure, but stop worrying me so much I-" Aether clears his throat, hand resting on the taller ghoul's shoulder.

Mountain growls at Aether before it dies off in his throat as he sees the serious look on the normally joyful quint. The guitarist moves away from Mountain, heading over to the bed where Rain still sits, looking confused and slightly scared. "Hey, Rain. Remember me?" The bassist nods, a small but nervous smile on his face. "Y. Yeah... Uhm.. Whats going on?" He says sheepishly, eyeing the tall drummer with caution.

The Earth ghoul has the right to look offended, going to retort playfully as he normally would, but Omega shakes his head discouragingly at him, mouthing for him to keep quiet for now. Aether sits on the chair next to the bed, humming as he thinks of where to start. "Well.. this is Mountain, say hello Mountain." The drummer looks on in quiet confusion before saying a quiet greeting.

Aether smiles encouragingly at that, chuckling slightly at Rain's shy wave. "And my name is Omega." The older quint introduces, nodding in a respectful way as a greeting. Rain nods at that. "I know." Aether blinks in surprise. "You remember Omega?" Rain looks at Aether in confusion. "Of course! He taught Dew bass, remember? Then Dew taught me." He said confidently, as if Aether was the one misremembering things.

While it's true that Omega taught Dewdrop and then Dew taught Rain, it didn't make sense why he would remember Dew and Omega but not Mountain and Aether. Mountain's eyes widen as he realizes the situation. "He.. Can't remember everything?" Omega nods solemnly, moving to hold the Earth ghoul's hand comfortingly. "Not quite. But we're trying to fix it... Though that doesn't explain why he knows me but not you two."

Rain looks between the ghouls, staring at their joined hands. He feels a sting of emotion, something akin to anger or... Jealousy? He grips his head, hissing as his headache flares. Aether gently soothes him into laying down again, trying to ease the pain with traces of his element. "It's alright, like I said, don't push yourself too hard. We don't want you to permanently damage your brain."

The water ghoul's eyes widen. "I can do that?" He asks softly, voice laced with real fear. Aether curses under his breath, quickly shaking his head. "No! No, you can't. I just.. I was trying to get you to calm down." He says rushedly. Rain relaxes marginally at that, but still bites at his lip anxiously. "Now to figure out what's going on with your memory patterns.."

"I might have an idea." Mountain suggests. Aether looks at the drummer with a look of confusion. The quint has way more medical knowledge than the other, there's no way he could figure it out but Rather couldn't. "Well... Go on then." Omega encourages, intrigued.

"He doesn't remember me or Aether, but he remembers you and Dew, right?" The other ghouls nod in agreement, not sure where this is leading. "But he can form new memories and is just struggling with the past.." He continues. Aether's gets impatient, anxiety mounting. "Please just get to the point."

Mountain puts his hand up defensively, the other still laced with Omega's. "Okay, okay.." He takes a breath. "I could be wrong, but he might only remember the older era ghouls." Aether looks at him with a deadpan expression. Mountain is quick to elaborate. "He said he remembers Dew, but that doesn't mean he knows him after the element change... Do you see where I'm going with this?"

Omega's eyes widen as he processes the new information, running over the idea in his mind. "He knows Dew but only as a water ghoul, when me and him were in the band together. That's why he mentioned learning bass from him, because the water element is linked to the instrument!" Mountain nods in agreement. "We could call for Dew and test that theory-" "No."

Mountain looks over at Aether in confusion. "Wha-" "I said no." Aether's fist clenches as he takes a breath to calm down. "I love Dew, but we remember how he was to Rain after the change." Omega frowns, speaking up on his own thoughts. "Aren't they close now?" Rain looks on, lost as he tried to follow the conversation about him as if he's not right there. "Yes but.. what if Rain just remembers him when he was an asshole? I can't subject him to that right now! He's much too fragile in this state and-"

Rain clears his throat, the sound quieter than he wished for it to be, but he supposes it's fine since it made the quint pause. "I'm able to think for myself, you know. I don't know how you know me but if Dew is there, I'd like to talk to him. He was the best teacher I could ever ask for- ... No offence, Megalodon." He says sheepishly, using the old nickname for Omega in hopes it wouldn't upset the other rhythm guitarist.

Omega frowns slightly at the meek behaviour, not used to the shy Rain. He tries a placating smile, hoping to ease Rain's anxiety. "None taken." He says truthfully, not minding in the slightest.

The way Rain talks about Omega and Dew makes Aether believe his memories must be somewhere right before the element change, since Dew was still a water ghoul when teaching Rain bass. It was only after the change where Dew felt aggression towards the newer summon, redirecting the pain to anger.

Aether sighs, resting his head in his hands and closing his eyes to steady his thoughts. Would it be better to try and jog his memory or try and avoid it? The rhythm guitarist hasn't dealt with any amnesia or brain trauma patients, the territory unfamiliar and terrifying. Especially since it's someone so close to him.

However, Rain did have a point. Even if Aether wanted to keep Dew away, Rain is still in charge of his own life and his physical health doesn't seem to be at risk by allowing him to see the ex-bassist. With a reluctant frown, he texts Dew that Rain is awake and wants to see him. The quint makes sure to specifically warn Dew that the injured water ghoul may not have any recent memories of him, and may not even be aware of the element transition.

The read receipt pops up, showing that the fire ghoul is either reading the text or has already read it. The typing bubbles pop up for a few moments before disappearing and reappearing again. Aether's grip on the phone is tight and nervous, Omega coming over to gently run his fingers through the smaller quint's hair reassuringly.

Rain looks to Mountain with a pleading expression. "So.. I can see him?" The earth ghoul nods, moving over to the side of the bed and nudging Aether's foot with his to silently make him move so Mountain can have the chair next to the bed. "Yeah. We're just waiting on him to text back and let us know when he'll be here-" The door is slammed open and Dew pants lightly as if he just ran here. "... Well, I guess he's here now." Mountain says with amusement.

Aether looks at his phone, making sure he didn't miss a text. The typing bubbles never turned into words, making the quint look at Dew in confusion. The fire ghoul waves him off, pushing past him and Omega to get to the bed. He hops onto the end of the mattress, looking at the water ghoul with what seems to be a nonchalant expression, but Omega can see that he's heavily scanning the bassist for injuries and signs of distress

"So, you made it out alive, huh?" Dew says teasingly, trying to guage how Rain is doing based on the response. A flicker of recognition sparks in those cerulean eyes, a real and genuine smile on his face for the first time since Mountain has visited. "Of course I did. I can't die that easily. This is the skin of a killer, Bella!" He says with fake seriousness, a laugh bubbling from his throat before he can stop it.

Mountain's tail wags a little at hearing the cute little squeaks in his packmate's laugh, happy to hear he's feeling better. Even if Rain has no memory of Mountain, the Earth ghoul would rather have the bassist happy and content over anything else in the whole world. Nothing is more important to Mountain than his pack's wellbeing.

Omega looks between Dew and Rain with a confused expression, blinking incredulously. "You.. remember watching Twilight, but not Aether." Rain goes to retort but pauses, brows furrowing in confusion and concentration. "I .. I don't know? It just felt natural.." He mumbles, his joyful demeanor diminishing almost instantly.

Mountain frowns, trying to think of a way to cheer him up again. Dew beats him to it. "Maybe your half of a brain will start working once you get some food in you. Have you eaten yet? I mean, I know I call you fish stick for a reason but you seriously need some meat on your bones or something." Rain huffs and clicks at him with indignation. "Coming from you? That's rich! ... But uhm. Yeah, I'm starving." He says shyly at the end.

Omega grabs Aether's hand and guides him to the door. "I'll get some food started for you guys then, okay? Rain, you should be all clear to go. Just make sure you're with someone so if something happens you have help.. Come on, supernova." He says gently, guiding the emotionally drained quint out of the room with him. Rain makes a displeased cringing face at Omega's words, hissing out what seems to be a mocking impression under his breath. He's clearly displeased about how fragile everyone is treating him.

Dew chuckles and stretches dramatically, resting on top of the water ghoul. "Relax. They just care about you, that's all. They're stupid idiots who don't understand your strength, sure, but they're also incredibly worried about you... Or somethin, I dunno." He says genuinely for a moment before throwing back on his causal persona. Mountain rolls his eyes, watching as the fire ghoul slowly applies more pressure by laying on top of the now squirming water ghoul who pushes weakly at him with laughter.

The drummer scruffs the back of Dew's shirt, hauling him off the giggling bassist. "Thanks, M!" He chirps out happily, tail wagging as he taunts the restrained guitarist. "Watch yourself, Rain. I'm planning my revenge." Dewdrop growls out, but his tail wags playfully just as much. He squirms more until Mountain puts him down. "Behave." The taller ghoul says with a teasing tone.

Mountain's eyes dart over to Rain as the bassist tries to move off the bed. He gently moves Dew out of the way, helping the injured ghoul to his feet and carefully removing the IV for him. He double checks that Rain is alright and can stand on his own, before taking a step back. .. he then steps forward again and triple checks, his worry for his packmate overtaking his logic. "Dude, he's fine. See?" The fire ghoul throws a pillow at Rain, watching as the bassist blinks in shock for a moment before trying to lunge at the other.

The Earth ghoul sighs, but it's just for show. He smiles as he quietly asks Rain if he can carry him, the water ghoul looking at him hesitantly before nodding and wrapping his arms around the drummer's neck as he's picked up. Dew takes the time to be a little nuisance, poking at Rain until Mountain glares at him with enough of a threat to make him back off with a self satisfied smirk.

"Don't worry, dragonfly. No one will hurt you when I'm here."

Ch.2 :

[heliosdream]

Ice and Wine

Kaeya x reader

Hey wanted to real quick drop some warnings here cause this is smut

Public sex (in Diluc tavern), Edging, Eating out, over stimulation, pet names (He calls reader little snowflake 4 or 5 times as well as good girl and bad girl), light face humping, slapping(once), biting.

Reader is referred as female and works for Diluc.

Please do enjoy and let me know if you think it’s good or what I could improve on.

“You taste like the sweetest of wines.”

Kaeya’s voice rang out from between your thighs. Legs hoisted up on his shoulders, thighs spread for his eyes to feast upon. He had you, laying on top of the bar, back arch, crying his name over and over. Slow kisses from your wet core to your inner thigh. A tease he was, ever so softly nipping at the skin of your inner thigh.

“I’m looking forward to this, my dearest little snowflake.” A chuckle coming from his lips as he kisses back down towards your aching core. His lips kissing your puffy ones before spreading your pretty cunnie for his tongue, he wraps it around your clit pulling it. Your hips buck, head thrown back and your hands find themselves in his hair; pulling out the stupid hair tie and throwing it on the floor.

“Such a reaction my little snowflake” He says with a chuckle as he lifts his head up. Light blue eyes watching you in sick satisfaction.

“Can’t handle a little teasing? My poor girl… you can handle one more orgasm…” a needy cry on your lips as you buck your hips again, his hands quickly grabbing your sides stopping you.

“Bad girl, what a very bad girl you are. You better tell me, or you wouldn’t want your Boss walking in here, find you and see you dripping wet on his bar top would you.” Another sharp whine and a muffle of no finally came from your lips. Kaeya gives your thigh a soft little slap and gets himself back to your wet cunt. His tongue back into your weeping hole, one hand still on your hip and the other at your pussy. Long dexterous fingers start to play with you, two at first, spreading them, scissoring them making you clinch around them. He was leading you towards your 14th orgasm for the night… and you were close… oh so close.

“That’s its, come for me, pretty snowflake. Let me taste you on my face.” *His tongue and fingers switch spots, fingers playing with your clit, teasing, twisting, and rubbing. His tongue going as deep as he could while, he has you rock your hips fucking yourself on his tongue and face. You couldn’t take it any longer, a moan leaves your lips as you come hard on his face. Kaeya pushes you up onto the bar where you could sit and catch your breath, your eyes trained on him as he licks his lips tasting your release, a soft groan following after it.

“You never disappoint Little Snowflake, truly tasting like the sweetest of wines. It’s almost tempting to go for one more taste.” You shake your head, already exhausted from your day at work and then this on top of everything.

“Ah ah ah, don’t you worry I would never do more then what you are able to do.” He grabs your waist and pulls you down for a soft kiss.

“Let’s get you home”

…

Diluc walks into the tavern, he was only going to be there for a moment, mostly grabbing some paperwork to take back with him to Dawn winery when he spots… water… or something like that on his bar. His eyes narrow in annoyance as he silently curses Kaeya out in his head, knowing well what he did was crossing the line.

[aranryan]

Punch-Out!! Wii Boxers as Pokemon, as written by a die-hard Pokemon fanatic

Contents of post under cut. Hope you all enjoy.

1. Glass Joe - Smeargle

It was a tough toss-up between Smeargle and Masquerain for this one, but I ultimately settled on Smeargle, because I feel the goofy look on Smeargle's face matches Joe's overall silliness better than Masquerain would, and can have the ability Own Tempo which fits Joe better than Masquerain's Intimidate or Unnerve. It's also just as frail as Masquerain is, with pitiful defenses, neither of which stat reaches past 50, and mediocre HP at 55. Although Smeargle is nothing especial at all as a Pokemon, it's become a fan favorite amongst Pokemon fans for its cute and stylish design and its unique niche with Sketch, mirroring Glass Joe's individual charm and longevity within the Punch-Out!! series, despite being as weak as he is.

2. Von Kaiser - Haxorus

Whilst a fair argument could be made in favor of a Pokemon such as one within the Lillipup line or Drampa used to represent Von Kaiser, I feel Haxorus fits him best. They even look similar, with Haxorus' tusks matching Kaiser's moustache, and even their colour schemes are quite close! Haxorus is a fierce Pokemon with a high Attack stat, but it is severely underpowered amongst its fellow Dragon-types and often does not excel in any particular way due to its subpar Speed and defenses. Whilst a good Pokemon on its own and even ranked as high as OU in its prime in Gen V, it was quickly outclassed by other dragons and immediately weakened by the introduction of Fairy-types, which it struggles to counter. This parallels Von Kaiser's boxing history--once a fantastic boxer, now reduced to the lower ranks by age and rustiness.

3. Disco Kid - Kantonian Raichu

A spunky Electric-type Pokemon for a spunky, electric-personality guy! AND they're both blonde! I mean, I dunno, I don't have a complex explanation for this one. I can just so perfectly imagine a Raichu dancing around and just having fun like Disco Kid does. It's not a particularly strong Pokemon, but it has plenty of fans regardless.

4. King Hippo - Hippowdon

This one is pretty self-explanatory, don't you think? King Hippo, Hippowdon...they're just the same picture. A notoriously defensive Pokemon, Hippowdon's Defense stat perfectly mimics King Hippo's Title Defense fighting strategy. Hippowdon's primary benefit as a defensive tank is access to the move Slack Off, which allows it to regain health--and it's pretty obvious that King Hippo does his own fair share of slacking off too, as shown in his intro cutscene. Not only that, but Hippowdon can also learn Stockpile and Swallow via breeding--again similar to how King Hippo can eat masses of food in his intro.

5. Piston Hondo - Scizor

Come on, now. Don't they look identical? From the intense, determined expressions to the red-clad fists to the lean yet strong appearance. Scizor's moveset is full of setup moves that you could easily imagine Hondo would want to learn as techniques for battle in his intense training sessions. Not only that, but Hondo's quick punches are very much like the Bullet Punches which Scizor is known best for in the competitive scene, and are also similar to some of Scizor's other moves, such as Quick Attack, Double Hit and Vacuum Wave.

6. Bear Hugger - Greedent

I bet you were expecting me to assign Bear Hugger Ursaring or Ursaluna, weren't you? But I think Greedent is absolutely perfect for him. The name "Bear Hugger" doesn't necessarily mean he has to be a bear--and besides, it's a cute little nod to his squirrel buddy he fights alongside in Title Defense! Greedent is large and sports a cheeky grin just like Bear Hugger does, not to mention the bountiful fur reminiscent of Bear Hugger's beard. There's not much else to be said here, I think this one is pretty straightforward!

7. Great Tiger - Kantonian Persian

As majestic and self-assured as Great Tiger is, Persian is a fantastic Pokemon to represent him. Not only do they both have a flashy little forehead jewel, and both draw from feline inspirations, Persian's status as a Gen I Normal-type means it gets access to a whole lot of really interesting moves, including Thunderbolt, Icy Wind, Bubblebeam, and--in the case of a special event Meowth--Petal Dance, all useful elemental Special moves that fit Great Tiger with his magical prowess and his gathering of elemental power for his Title Defense fight. Daeen se.

8. Don Flamenco - Roserade

Another pretty self-explanatory assignment. Both have an affinity for beauty and style coupled with a rose association. Not only that, but Roserade's design and name pay homage to masquerade balls, a popular festive activity in Western Europe--which, of course, includes Spain, Don Flamenco's home country. (...they're more popular in Italy and France, but let's not worry about that.)

9. Aran Ryan - Shiny Jolteon

It just wouldn't be right for the lucky bastard to NOT be a Shiny Pokemon, would it? Jolteon's Shiny boasts shockingly (ha) similar colours to Aran's typical palette, with purple eyes and inner ears to match his gloves, and green fur to match his trunks. Jolteon's typical fighting style is also quite similar to that of Aran's in-game movements, as a very annoying fast pivot who chips away at opponents with Volt Switch and disappears back into the party before the enemy can even move. Even despite this, both of these little green nasties remain as fan favorites.

10. Soda Popinski - Salamence

Absolutely large and in charge, the both of them. Aside from pure muscle and size, the two share similarities in ability--Salamence's Intimidate is fitting for, well, Soda's appearance alone, but Moxie is a little more specific and accurate, Salamence's attack boosts matching the way Soda powers himself up with...soda. They're just two big and bulky beasts. It's plain and simple.

11. Bald Bull - Combat Breed Paldean Tauros

Just a total load of bull here. Bald Bull becomes a bull, simple enough. I picked specifically Paldean Tauros for the fact it's fighting type, though, and because of Tauros' brand-new move from Gen IX, Raging Bull, which perfectly parallels Bald Bull's fighting style. I also think, oddly enough, that the Combat Breed Tauros' blunt horns are a little more fitting for Bald Bull than Kantonian, Blaze and Aqua Breeds' sharper horns. This guy is pure muscle--he doesn't need sharp horns to put up a tough fight!

12. Super Macho Man - Druddigon

Bit of a weird pick, sure, but it's the American-flag-coloured dragon from the American region, just think about it! Plus, Druddigon is physically jacked--capable of shattering bouldars--and has massive Attack, just like Macho Man himself. Druddigon's Rough Skin ability is also reminiscent of Macho Man's rigid bodybuilder muscle--which I imagine would have absolutely no softness or elasticity to it, eugh. Being a typical Western-style dragon also means Druddigon would likely enjoy hoarding treasure, similar to the golden cosmetics Macho Man adorns himself with--not to mention his masses of wealth.

13. Mr. Sandman - Krookodile

Of course Mr. "Sand"man has to be a Ground-type. All jokes aside, for a strong, intimidating guy, you need a strong, intimidating Pokemon. And I mean literally--"Intimidate" is one of Krookodile's abilites, as is Moxie, an extremely powerful ability that raises its attack after every KO. Its hidden ability is Anger Point, which is akin to Sandman's temper but also similar to Moxie as well. Krookodile boasts an incredible range of devastating attacks, from Earthquake to Close Combat to Gunk Shot to Stone Edge, as well as an enormous Attack stat. A dedicated, all-out attacker is the absolute pinnacle of a Pokemon to assign to Mr. Sandman.

Let me know what you all think of my assignments! :D

[darkintothedawn]

THE SIGNING || Stiles Stilinski 'Teen Wolf'

Pairing — Stiles Stilinski x Gender Neutral reader

Summary — Setting the scene for 'THE BOYFRIEND CODE'. Stiles sits you down and convinces you to sign his collection of rules. Little does he know you've already decided that they're not worth following.

Memo— Don't ask about the ending, I have no idea what that is. You can find the rest of the 'THE BOYFRIEND CODE' here.

Word Count — 3052

Warnings — Suggestive content. Some explicit language (mentions of being hard). Mostly fluff.

"Alright, this is ridiculous," you say, sitting cross-legged on Stiles' bed. There's an unreasonably long piece of parchment spread out before you and the quill you're holding is wobbling slightly from the early tremors of a laugh. The parchment looks like it's been stolen right from a centuries old book that was probably stored in an underground vault during medieval times. It's complete with singed edges that you can tell he's artificially put there if you look hard enough and a heading written in surprisingly elaborate, swooping calligraphy. The Boyfriend Code.

"Who even has parchment anymore? Did you have to order this online?"

Stiles momentarily stops his pacing, hands clasped behind his back like a general before he starts to pace again. His eyes are locked onto your with the intensity of a general surveying his troops but the tell-tale signs of a grin are present on his face. "It's authentic parchment, thank you very much. And the quill? Hand-dipped, by yours truly, in ink from an antique shop. Do you know how much time I spent on this?"

The laugh nearly forces its way out but you stop it with a deep breath, trying to deadpan a "too much" but the smile tugging at your lips fails that attempt. "And a quill, Stiles? Are we signing a medieval peace treaty? Is this a sort of marriage? Are you trying to join our houses, Stilinski? Is that what this is?"

Stiles freezes mid-step, his face immediately going red—not just a faint blush but almost full on Stilinski Red™, blooming all the way down his neck. His mouth closes and opens a few times in quick succession before he manages to sputter, "Wha—no! I mean, that's—ugh, you just—you've ruined my whole thing now!"

You just raise an eyebrow, biting back your laugh that's threatening to come back at full force this time. "Your whole thing? You mean this elaborate parchment contract slash wedding vows situation?"

"It is not a wedding vow!" He practically squawks, but he won't quite meet your eyes now, focusing instead on gesturing wildly at the parchment in an attempt to look less lost than he is. "This is serious business! This is about rules and… and structure and a code of conduct and—ugh, you're, you're. You're you!"

He pouts, is bottom lip sticking out just enough to make you want to laugh despite how much you know he'd hate it. But, the flush creeping down his neck and across his slightly visible collar is more than enough of a tell for you to figure out there's something else going on here. You know Stiles wee enough to realise he's definitely spiralling—not because you embarrassed him, no, he'd never spiral over that, it's because now the idea's firmly planted in is mind, and he's really thinking about it. Hard.

And based on the way he keeps fidgeting with his hands, flannel, waistband, and keeps darting glances at you, it's clear that he wants it. The thought of you eventually being… more… is more than enough to completely throw him off his game, though you know he won't admit it any time soon.

You're about to tease him further when he throws his arms up dramatically, clearly trying to recover. "This isn't just any treaty," he says, stomping back into his role like an actor reclaiming the stolen spotlight as he stars to pace again. You can tell he's trying to cope with his racing mind.

He gestures at the parchment again, finally deeming himself confident to talk. He speaks as if the parchment is a royal decree, "The treaty. This is the cornerstone of our relationship. The guide to happiness, the sacred rules of boyfriend-dom. You do want this to work, right? Want us to thrive?"

And just like that, his speech has solidified his role once again. Well, sort of. His ears are still far too red, and his voice cracked a little at "thrive," but he's clearly committed. You let him have his moment, clearing your throat as you quickly glance at it yourself.

"You're serious right now?

"As a werewolf attack," he replies, aiming for solemn and unbothered but it's clear your growing grin is ruining that.

You tilt your head up at him, flicking to the list as you glanced over a few of them. "And what happens if I refuse to sign this treaty?"

"You don't want to know," he says ominously, narrowing his eyes. "But, as a fair warning, let's just say it involves a dramatic monologue, a fake but emotional breakup, and me dramatically leaving you to live a life of isolation in the woods. Maybe Scott visits occasionally. And you. I wouldn't turn you away because I could never stay mad at you but you'd never see me again. I'm miserable, obviously. And so are you. No one wins."

You can't help it—the laugh finally breaks free, the quill clattering onto the bed. "You're unbelievable.

"I prefer 'visionary', 'genius' even." He picks up the quill, carefully placing it back into your hand with a lingering touch as he gently wraps your fingers around it. "Now sign. Or it's the woods for me." He leans a little closer at that, his character breaking for a moment, "You know I don't do well with the woods, I mean, especially not after the whole werewolf thing with Scott. What if you come to find me and I'm there all fangs and snarls."

You just place your hands on his chest and gently shove him away, rolling your eyes with an amused smile as you dip the quill in the inkwell. You scrawl your name at the bottom, trying your best to match his calligraphy. Stiles watches over you with a look of absolute triumph, as if he's not only conquered a small kingdom but also successfully convinced the kingdom's sweetheart into marriage.

"There," you say, dropping the quill back into his hands. "Happy?

"Thrilled," is all you get out of him before he's snatching the parchment away before you can change your mind. He holds it up to the light, inspecting it. "It's beautiful. Frame-worthy, honestly. Plated gold maybe."

"Do not frame that."

"Oh, it's going on the wall," he says, grinning at you with a look too giddy for you be annoyed any longer. "Right next to Roscoe's registration. I mean, they're equally important."

You groan, flopping back onto the bed and shuffling up to the headboard. You can't help the grin tugging on your lips as you watch him fawn over it like a kid meeting Santa for the first time. Stiles places the parchment onto is desk with a grace you rarely ever see from him. He's already flopping down beside you, propping himself up on an elbow and placing his chin on your stomach. "So," he says, his voice softer now. "You really signed it."

"Of course I signed it," you reply, rolling your eyes again but letting your hand rest against his cheek. "How could I not? You worked so hard on it."

"I'm glad you recognise my effort," he says, grinning. "You're stuck with me now, you know."

"Like I wasn't before, Stilinski."

He tilts his head to place a quick kiss on the thinnest part of your top, smile widening at the warmth of your skin through it. "This is why you're my favourite."

"Your favourite?" You echo, feigning offense. "Out of who? Scott? Your dad? Lydia?"

He laughs, moving up to lying beside you and pulling you closer. "Out of everyone. Always."

You lean into him, resting your head against his chest as he rambles on about how sacred the code is and how he'll be keeping not a laminated copy in his glove compartment of Roscoe. It's a family heirloom now.

The moment feels soft and domestic. Too soft.

Because as much as you adore him, as much as you love that stupid grin and his way-too-specific quirks, you know something he doesn't: you're going to break every single rule. Not out of malice. Not out of spite. But because it'll drive him insane in the funniest way possible.

And after that you can write another list, together. If Stiles wants a list then he can have a list, but your having your fun with it fist.

You're going to steal the last curly fry. You're going to give Scott better cuddles, you're going to hide sticky notes around his room that say things like, I'm watching you and Do you smell that? in the most ominous handwriting you can muster. You'll use him as a human shield, tickle him during road trips, and oh, the music in the Jeep is definitely going to be changed without a vote.

You glance at the parchment resting on his desk, your lips twitching into a sly smile as you mentally check off each rules. You're already planning on how to break them.

"Why are you smiling like that?" He asks you suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.

You look up at him with your best wide-eyed, innocent expression. "Like what?"

"Like you're plotting something. You signed the code. You're legally bound, you know. No take-backs."

"Legally bound, huh? Got it."

He narrows his eyes a little more, but the suspicions fades quickly. You tilt your head up, pulling him into a kiss before he can analyse your expression any further.

The kiss is soft at first, your lips brushing over his like a feather. He lets out a pleased sigh, his body relaxing under yours. But when you don't stop—when you deepen the kiss, your teeth catching his lower lip gently—he shivers, his hand instinctively tightening around your waist.

You tilt your head, angling the kiss more firmly now, letting him feel the heat of your mouth against his. Stiles groans low in his throat, his fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt as though he's trying to ground himself. "Okay," he breathes between kisses, his voice already shaky, "This—this is nice."

"Just nice?" You murmur, already bringing your lips to his again. Grazing, teasing.

"Very nice," he amends quickly, a slight whine slipping out of him as you pull back for just a moment too long. He tries to follow you, lifting his head towards you and bringing his hands up your sides, but you just place a hand on his chest and gently push him back onto the bed.

"Stay," you say softly, and the flush on his cheeks darkens.

His lips are slightly swollen now, his hair mussed from where your fingers have started threading through it. "You're so—" He cuts himself off with a breathy groan as you kiss him again, your tongue slipping past his lips just enough to tease him before pulling back again.

"Mm? You hum against is mouth, dragging your teeth lightly along his jaw before kissing your way back to his lips.

"You're killing me," he whispers, his voice a little desperate now. His hips shift under you, and you feel the unmistakable press of him against your thigh. His body's already reacting to you, hard and needy, but you pretend not to notice.

Instead, you keep the kisses slow and deliberate, your lips moving against his with infuriating precision. You tilt your hips just slightly, brushing against him enough to make him gasp, but not enough to give him what he clearly wants. Needs.

"God," he groans, his hands sliding up under your shirt, his fingers warm against your skin. "You're—you're teasing me on purpose. "

"Am I?" You ask innocently, punctuating the question with a kiss to the corner of his mouth followed by another to his nose.

"Yes," he whimpers, his voice cracking slightly. "You are, and it's—holy—" He cuts himself off again when your lips move to his neck, your teeth scraping gently over the sensitive skin there. His breathing picks up, uneven now, and he grips your hips tightly.

"Poor Stiles," you murmur against his neck, your voice low and teasing. "You're so sensitive," you continue against his skin, enamoured by the way his hair rises at your warm breath.

"Stop," he whines, though the way he tilts his head back to give you better access completely contradicts him. "Stop teasing me."

You pull back slightly to look at him, and the sight is not only enough to make your breath hitch but for the familiar warmth of arousal to start spreading through your skin. His cheeks are flushed, his lips parted and kiss-bruised, his eyes dark and glassy as they lock onto yours. He looks wrecked already, and you've barely done anything.

"Please," he whispers, his voice low and raw. "Please, I—"

You cut him off with, yet again, another kiss, this one deeper and hungrier, fuelled by the heat tingling through you and the pure need on his face, swallowing his next whine. He responds instantly, his hands sliding up your back, one resting on your nape and the other across your back to your shoulder. He's pulling you closer as his hips start to buck against you.

But just as he starts to lose himself in the kiss, you pull back again, leaving him panting and breathless beneath you. "What—why?" He stammers, looking up at you like you've committed an actual, heinous, crime.

"Because I can," you reply with a grin, leaning down to press one last teasing kiss to his lips.

His head falls back against the pillow with a frustrated groan. "You're evil," he says, his voice thick with want and need.

You smile, brushing is hair back from his forehead as you lean down to whisper against his ear, "You love me anyway."

"Unfortunately," he breathes, his voice laced with exasperation and desire, "Yes. God help me, yes."

You laugh softly, pressing another teasing kiss to his lips before settling against him, your head finding it's familiar spot on his chest. His heart is racing beneath your ear, and his arms wrap around you instinctively, holding you close. The steady beat of his heat lulling you into a sense of complacency and comfort.

He huffs a soft sigh, still squirming slightly beneath you as he tries to calm down. "This is a cruel and unusual punishment, you know."

"Consider it a preview,," you tease, smirking up at him as you trail your fingers lazily over his chest and biceps.

"A preview?" He repeats, his voice hopefully and layered with emotion.

"Maybe. If you're good."

Stiles groans again, burying his face in your hair. "You're the worst."

You smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his collarbone. "And yet, here you are."

"Yeah," he mutters, his voice softening. "Here I am."

He groans dramatically, arms tightening around your waist. He's still hard against you, his hips shifting involuntarily, and the faint whimper that escapes his lips makes you bite back a laugh.

"You know," you begin, trying to keep a straight face as you look up at him, "If it's really that bad, you could always go handle it by yourself. I wouldn't mind waiting."

His head snaps downward, just barely missing an attack on your head by his chin. His eyes are wide and scandalised, though his lips twitch like he's trying not laugh himself. "Excuse me?"

"I'm serious," you tease, shrugging as though it's the most reasonable suggestion in the world. "I means, if you're that desperate—"

"I am not—" He stops himself, flushing even deeper, his hands leaving you to cover his face. "Oh my God, you're the worst. You know that right?"

You laugh softly, moving to gently pry his hands away from his face. "What? I'm just saying, if you really can't—"

"I can," he cuts in quickly, his voice rising in pitch. Then, softer, "I can. I'm fine."

You tilt your head, pretending to consider. "You sure? I mean, you're looking pretty—"

"Stop," he groans, his voice muffled as he buries his face into your hair. But even as he says it, his hands intertwine with yours, holding you tight.

For a moment it's quiet, just the sound of his slightly unsteady breathing and the warmth of his body pressed against yours. Then, in a much softer voice, he murmurs, "I wouldn't. Not without you anyway."

You blink, pulling back just enough to look at him. His cheeks are still red, but his eyes are soft and sincere, locking onto yours with a kind of vulnerable intensity that makes your heart stutter.

"Stiles…"

“I mean it,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not saying it’s not tempting—because, oh my God, you have no idea—but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Not when…” He swallows hard, his eyes darting away before he looks back at you. “Not when it’s you. You’re kind of… it for me.”

For a moment, you’re stunned into silence. It’s not the first time he’s said something so achingly sweet, but the weight of his words settles over you like a warm blanket.

And then, slowly, you realise something that makes your cheeks heat.

“…You too?” you ask, your voice quiet.

“What?” he says, his brow furrowing slightly.

You bite your lip, looking away for a moment before meeting his gaze again. “You’re not the only one. I—whenever I…” You clear your throat, your voice dropping slightly. “It’s always been you, ever since we got together. It’s only been you.”

His eyes widen, his lips parting slightly like he’s about to say something, but no words come out. Instead, he stares at you like you’ve just told him the most important secret in the universe.

“Stiles?”

“I—yeah,” he breathes, his voice shaky as a slow, crooked smile spreads across his face. “Yeah, okay, this is… Wow.”

“Wow?” you echo, laughing softly despite the heat in your cheeks.

“Yeah,” he says again, pulling you closer until your foreheads are pressed together. His voice drops to a whisper, soft and reverent. “We’re a mess, huh?”

“Completely,” you agree, your own smile tugging at your lips.

But it’s not a bad thing—not even close. Because even in the teasing, in the heated moments and the chaos you bring into each other’s lives, there’s this unshakable certainty between you.

You’re his. And he’s yours. In every possible way.

[midnight1nk]

If you all were familiar with my analysis of the flareglow mystery, then you would also know how batshit crazy I was over the username changing on the steam page when it happened a few weeks ago. That's right, we're at it AGAIN! Ink Chasing Wild Goosechases 2: Electric Boogaloo ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Am I serious about this? Yes.

Would this be just as pointless as flareglow? Oh yeah, for sure—

Mystery of the SMG43 Steam Username

⚠️ DISCLAIMER IN INTRO POST ⚠️

CONTEXT

For the new year 2025, I had to start with a theory, obviously. The only unfortunate part was that it had to be flareglow *war flashbacks ensue* but it can't be posted without its twinning mystery of the SMG4 Steam page. Well actually, it's the "Not SMG3. Stop looking deep" Steam page as it currently says, quite a mouthful.

If you somehow didn't know about what's going on with steam, I might as well copy+paste from the quick overview I did (og link):

⭐️ the steam account the Team had (y'know with the GMod models), the username originally was "Glitch Productions" since the SMG4 show is under their company ⭐️ then that username was suddenly changed to "SMG3" with no explanation and no new thing added to the workshop

⭐️ now naturally, the fans were like "was it a hack?" or "was it a glitch from Steam itself?" or "is this a troll?" Basically no one knew, merely speculated (and certainly no one gave us any answers) ⭐️ As for what I thought, it seemed really weird to just change the username. Much more could've been done to the account and yet nothing else happened, which is why I thought the username change must've been done intentionally by the Team (especially bc of the flareglow mystery happening right around the same time as this). ⭐️ THAT is when Cube finally came out with that tweet saying that the Steam thing "didn't mean anything significant" and around the same time, the Steam username changed again to "Not SMG3. Stop looking too deep"

⭐️ Again, nothing new was added to the workshop or profile. The only thing that changed was the username. ⭐️UPDATES⭐️ as of today, there haven't been any changes to the username (I was really hoping that they did, we'll talk about it soon)

Very curious, indeed. ...we DON'T talk about Ben trolling. let's not.

"But what does that mean for us?"

As much as flareglow is a hit-and-miss, there is a big chance that the Team has made these changes intentionally.

REASONING (+ REBUTTAL)

Before we can go over the theories (patience friends), we have to knock out the logical explanations for this:

Nothing Significant

That's it. What Cube said, it didn't mean anything significant. It can be so stupid that it could literally just be the Team wanting to see the fandom notice. For the sillies. Which is basically...

Just a Troll

Whoever changed the username, whether it was the Team or a hacker, they just wanted to make a harmless joke. It's pretty well known that the Team likes to troll with us every now and then.

Looking directly at Ben rn

I mean, we did get word from the Team addressing it, right? Case closed, pack it up. Right?

...And here's where it all comes crashing down:

Out of all the platforms, Steam was chosen. We are all familiar with how the Team likes to tease us for future arcs, one way or another. The most well-known is the banner changing in YT and other socials, but not Steam. The only other time Steam was involved that I could think of was during the Western Spaghetti arc, the train ARG map.

This is CUBE we're talking about. This is the same guy who likes to troll us, aside from Ben. Remember back when the PV website had the "That's all folks!" gif before changing it for WOTFI '24 with Ringmaster 4? Cube tweeted "I used the same website host don’t read into it too much". And THEN when it changed again with "4" being unmasked as Mr Puzzles, all Cube responded was "🥰". Cube, Ben, the whole Team is aware that we pay attention to these kinds of things. The PV website brought attention to WOTFI, it's only natural that the Team wanted us to pay attention to Steam for a reason. Not to bring flareglow into this HOWEVER, don't you find it curious that Cube questioned flareglow before the official comment but didn't do it for Steam? Not to mention the wording being completely off in the official. "doesn't mean anything significant" sounds very much like "don't worry about it :)", even if it turns out to be something dumb. It would've been so easy to say "it's just a troll".

The fact that the username chosen isn't the issue, it's why it was chosen to begin with. Even if you don't consider SMG3's internal fear of never being remembered or loved (4's "pathetic copy"), their names are almost identical from one number away. It seems pretty harmless. But how the hell did the jump go from "Glitch Productions" to "SMG3"? It could've been "SMG4" and have the fans second-guessing. OR use any of the other character names like SMG1 and 2. Now, the counter-rebuttal could be that "it fits 3's character", some fans have commented that "it's Youtube Arc all over again". Fair enough, I thought it could be a sweet callback. BUT (countercounter-rebuttal) it still didn't make sense. If 3 wanted to be discreet about it with a smoother transition from "Glitch Productions", he could've changed it to "Snitch Productions" (also a good callback). And if you think they don't remember that, the Team placed a poster of the logo in 3's room.

There's no clear motive. Like I said in number 3, there's no motive as to why 3 would change it. Well, if it was him. Bringing back to the PV website example, there was a conundrum on why Ringmaster 4 would be asking fans for WOTFI challenges when the Crew and 4 himself had no idea about Puzzle Park. I've predicted before that someone (in this case Mr Puzzles) was impersonating as Ringmaster 4 to confuse the fans and reusing his website for a new purpose while the real 4 wouldn't have any idea. Steam would be the same way; someone with access could easily change the username at will and decide to impersonate 3. And who else had access in the past? *cough cough* ARG map *cough cough*

The timing of these changes. Besides the "SMG3" username change, there's the second username change, claiming that it's "Not SMG3". In hindsight, that doesn't seem like a big deal but the whole thing has been going on for over 2 WEEKS. In their universe, if 3 was joking around and assuming that 4 regained control of the page, the question is why didn't 4 change it back to the OG username? In ours, the Team already knows that the fans noticed the change so why don't THEY change it back?

(BONUS: if I wasn't clear before, it can't be a hacker) If their Steam account was hacked, the first thing they wouldn't think to do would be to change the username. You would have to think like a criminal to understand what I mean. Strike big and fast, leave nothing to chance. Even if this "hacker" wanted to troll around, there would be no reason to change it to "SMG3". I would've expected a keymash or something inappropriate. And again, the Team could've addressed this in a more serious tone and brought the OG username back.

Logic Chess babyyyyy (and I'm eating the pieces)

THEORY TIME

This is it! Before I go on though, I want to state that we're gonna treat flareglow and steam as TWO separate mysteries due to the uncertainty that still lingers with the Spotify situation. Spotify simply sucks. (also let's not bring the nightmare of a song in here.)

Now, the moment you're all waiting for, cue the intro:

Each one will be based on a single element I nitpicked from the whole mystery. It'll be up to you whether or not a few relate to each other, and ofc if you believe any of it. They're simply my "interpretations". At the end would give my overall theory (but I don't think I need to).

"Nothing Significant"

Let's go in the opposite direction Cube has told us. The Team planned to bring attention (and it worked) for a reason, likely for a future arc. Though the username was the only thing that changed on the page, a new item/addon can drop in the workshop as the Team did for the ARG Map. As of the time I'm writing this, nothing has... yet.

It doesn't matter who was responsible for this in the SMG4 universe, SMG3 is involved in the situation voluntarily or by force.

Who's Really Behind the Screen?

First off, we would need to know who had access to the Steam page, and the channel in general if needed. By the roster we got, it would be 4, 3, and Mr Puzzles.

4 wouldn't make sense right away due to lack of current motive, so he's off the murder board... for now

3 might be taking care 4's account while our blue meme lord isn't around, similar to how 3 has during the IGBP arc (most notably the "Announcement..." video). As to why 4 isn't around, it's still too early to call. Either (1) 4's taking a vacation or (2) 4's in danger.

Then if it's not 3, that leaves Mr Puzzles. "But Mr Puzzles is in solitary confinement" Then answer me how Mr Puzzles was able to upload the ARG map without having to access it through 4's PC for Western Spaghetti. Or setting up the live stream for IGBP. Oh, he'll find a way. Besides, we thought Marty would be in jail forever and yet here we are.

Let's talk about motive: out of all three, Puzzles is the only one who currently has a motive. And I mean CURRENTLY. The year just started after all. If any of them get pushed over the edge, pressing the right buttons, 4 and 3 can get one too.

Aside from this, I see the two strange usernames as a sort of conversation:

These were made by two different characters in a dire hostage situation. Person 1, the victim, made the "SMG3" username to call for help to 3 or the victim being 3 himself through Steam to not bring TOO much attention but enough to get someone to notice. Person 2, noticing this later, quickly deflected and changed it to "Not SMG3" and told anyone who saw it to "Stop looking too deep". Almost like a warning.

These are two characters controlling one body AKA possession. Just like number one, Person 1 is calling out for help and Person 2 is trying to damage control and deny it. Except the host character is denying that anything's wrong with them and excuses it like they're sick or something.

Again, these two are how I interpreted but they're not the only ones.

Timing

So... about that hunch. Yeah, it was entirely based on the timing of these changes happened. I found it strange that just as the Team was coming from their break and getting back to work, both flareglow and steam mysteries occurred. And after the comment they left on the New Year's special, something was up according to past Ink.

So, thinking back to how the second username said "stop looking too deep", I kept track of the days the usernames stayed up online. I thought that the answer didn't have to be complicated at all. No ARG, no secret decoding. Basic math. If including the end date in the calculation:

"SMG3" = 3 days

"Not SMG3. Stop looking too deep" = 19 days (as of today)

And this could lead to two things:

(to get this out of the way) it could be a series of numbers we could use for a future password. Similarly how typing "carnival" from the associated episode at the time unlocked the PV website with Ringmaster 4. And the WOTFI website is still up soooooo.....

and now my hunch *sigh* the numbers could be a date for a future arc/event. It was already strange that it dropped days before the first episode of 2025, it then became stranger when the second username is still up to this day. Using the first username, the 3 days would translate to the 3rd month (March) and naturally, the second username, it would translate to the day. If you had known me, then you would've known how I exploded when I realized what big event also happened in March. When the world was never the same again. That's right: It's Gotta Be Perfect (18th of March). Yes, my hunch was goop!4 all along and the date would've been solid evidence that it was gonna come true. Big surprise coming from me. And I said, WOULD'VE because as you can see, we passed those 18 days. Yep, my hunch was just as it was, a load of shit 😔 Still, not all is lost, it could still lead to a date. March has 31 days so if the username changes anytime between now and Day 31, then this would still make it entirely possible.

The Final Theory

Here we are: what I believe what's going to happen in the future of the show. Having all the speculations in one pile made me realize that Cube may be right all along.

Why would it be anything significant when we already knew the answer?

If any of you were veteran followers of mine, first off thanks for sticking with me and my insane ramblings, and two, you might recall one of my first theories. The true first, in fact.

Made before WOTFI 2024, I theorized that the Puzzlevision Arc would come full circle, based on past arcs and hidden details, and it'll all end with an IGBP sequel (link to OG). Though it's dated, a lot of it still stands and in fact, there's even more evidence to support it. WOTFI 2025 arc, The Mario PC Virus, Mario reacts to the Best 2024 Memes. It all keeps coming back.

In the PV arc, Mr Puzzles did indeed launch his streaming service Puzzlevision. And ever wondered what happened to it? 🤔

"Take it from us! The food here is a must, In addition with your ticket, you get PuzzleVision+"

[Mind-controlled Crew // WOTFI 2024]

I suppose it's time for a name change:

PUZZLEVISION+ : NOW AIRING

And that means, goop!4 is still real 🎉 Only this time, Mr Puzzles would destroy the Crew without hesitation. Death, torture, and trauma? It's good entertainment after all. And for that, he would have to be calculated in his plans.

For PV+, he would have to get rid of Mario somehow for always ruining his plans

Western Spaghetti would also get a sequel, but he would have to get rid of Tari to drive Meggy fully insane (the betrayal from WOTFI).

and last but not least, IGBP. Mr Puzzles and 4: narrative foils, two sides of the same coin. Where it all started, it ends here. But if he wants to ensure his chances, Puzzles would have to get rid of 3, the one who saved 4 the first time. (See where I'm going with this?)

We already knew goop!4 and Mr Puzzles' return will eventually happen, the hints are all there, so there shouldn't be any surprise when it does. Nothing significant. But of course, our Crew would get through this, to quote Boopkins from IGBP:

“Love wins! Love always wins!”

[’It’s Gotta Be Perfect’ // timestamp 28:56]

Indeed, love has unironically the power the Crew needed to beat the countless battles they've encountered. Even if it comes with a price, love always remains.

And this also means we might get WOTFI Heist 2 WOOHOO

But hey, that’s just a theory…

AN SMG4 MINI-THEORY

🎶Thanks for dropping by🎶

Now if you excuse me, I'm gonna strangle the Team rn /silly

[lchufflepuffcorn]

Hi! I’ve been loving your Dragon!Hybrid headcanons!

I was wondering if I please could request headcanons on how each Dragon!Hybrid would react if their partner got injured? I don’t mind the gender specified!

Thank you!

Hiya Anon!

I'm glad you like it. I hope this headcanon will entertain as much as the rest. It was very interesting to write how everyone would react differently, as each has different challenges.

If you ever want to request something again, you can identify yourself as the 😵‍💫 emoji!

Injuries

Masterlist

Dragon!Hybrid Masterlist

Aegon:

“What’s happened?” 

Aegon was out of breath and walking briskly to you. There seems to be a mild panic in his voice; it's a bit higher than usual. You don’t know how he learned you’d gotten yourself into the care of the maester, but he’s here now… 

You shake your head as the maester explains how the cut on your forehead was superficial; he ‘tsk,’ rolling his eyes and dismissing the man before he can finish his sentence. 

Whilst his help is quick to leave the room, the maester takes his time leaving, and recommends a thousand things for you to do before finally closing the door behind him, leaving you alone with Aegon. 

The scale adorning his neck now extends to his jaw, his eyes more lizard-y than human. He asks again. “What’s.  happened?” This time, panic left its place to anger. It’s your turn to roll your eyes. 

“Nothing, truly.” 

Was your annoyance justified? Yes. Was it wise to use a tone on Aegon at the current time? Probably not. You watched as a stream of smoke left his mouth, eyes shining and talons sharpening at the tip of his fingers. “Issa prumia…” It sounded both like a threat and a caress. Somehow, that made you shiver; you didn’t know what kind of emotion that reaction came from.

It was not often that Aegon’s temper escaped him; the sight of blood must truly have disturbed him for him to let Sunfyre take control of the situation. You sighed a little, both to control the shake in your limbs and to regain (even just a little bit) some patience, which you were lacking awfully. 

“I peeled an apple with a blunt knife.” You let out, softly. The heat of embarrassment flamed through your veins as the words got past your lips. 

When all Aegon (Sunfyre?) did was raise an eyebrow, not adding anything, you sighed again. Must you truly embarrass yourself further? 

He just stayed silent, eyes locked on you, sometimes going to the bandage on your forehead. Shoulders sinking, you capitulated.

“I guess I made to hard a movement whilst peeling the fruit, and I cut myself with the knife.” You explained further, eyes stubbornly kept over Aegon’s head, on the wall. 

Aegon huffed, voice rougher than usual. “You guess?” He chided. 

“It wasn’t my intention.” You bite back before taking a breath. All of this wasn’t worth a dragon’s anger. “I won’t do it ag—“

Before you could finish your sentence, Aegon was climbing over your knees, opening your arms from the hug you had self-imposed on your body to tuck himself beneath your chin. A soft, acute purring escaping him. 

“So you're fine. I’ll have someone cut your fruit from now on. Hold me now. I’ve missed you.” He orders.

Brat. 

Aemond: 

You, hurt? Good joke. No, but seriously, it won’t ever happen because he’ll bust that person’s face before they can even think about hurting you. He’ll destroy the walls, the stairs, and eradicate the bees for you. 

And if (when) he can’t, he’ll panic. 

“What are you doing?” Comes the snarling question from your lover, the previously locked door nearly taken out of its joints as he opened it. You look up from your kneeling position on the ground. 

“Cutting through the wood.” You answer truthfully, showing him the knife you were using before he’d rudely taken away said door. The world was fuzzy on the edge of your sight, and you wanted fresh air; that wasn't too much to ask, was it? 

“May I ask why?” Aemond’s tone is not less venomous than when he first spoke, but you’ve dealt with him before. Honesty is your best way out of his wrath. 

“I was bored, and I’m feeling a lot better.” 

Aemond grunts, not convinced by your words (maybe because of the paleness you exhibited or the numerous escape maneuvers you’d pulled throughout the week.) He helped you to stand, even going as far as to pat the dirt out of your clothes before leading you back again to the plush chair near the fire (drats!). 

“A fever and a cold don’t just go away within three days, Qelos.” He chided you coldly, puffing out the cushion of the chair before helping you sit down. 

“Maybe it was a small fever? A baby cold?” you tried to convince him again. Humour was your best ally in conditions such as this. It was lies. A cold? Please. The only cold you’ve caught was by being exposed to a botched poisoning (a bad fish) and were forced to ludicrous experiments by the maester to make your illness go quicker (sleeping three nights in a hammock for fresh air in winter.)

Rewarding your tries to humour, however, Aemond’s face lost its edge; a small smile curved his lips, if only for a moment. 

“I promise to make up for your lack of entertainment, Qelos. Shall I call for music and refreshments?” He teased, covering your legs with a blanket, and kneeling next to you. His good eye had lost the coldness it usually shined with. 

Baela: 

Poor baby, you’re hurt? Don’t worry; Baela will take care of you. She’s not one to panic, or, at least, to let it show too much. 

“How does it feel?” She’d ask, for the thousandth time (or so it seemed) in the last hour, looking at the bump on your forehead. 

She was holding a small bag of ice over it and knew as much as you did that your condition had not changed since you’d ungracefully fallen flat on your face and came back up on your feet with a disoriented spring to your movements. Yet you answered all the same. 

“It’s cold, but it seems like my heart has gone back to my chest, as my brain isn’t beating as hard now.”

She hummed softly as the only answer, running her finger through your hair. Baela let her gaze run over your face, lost in her own mind now. You were making it seem as if you hadn’t seen her scramble out of her dragon form when you fell from your seat on her back, and she didn’t comment on the unseemly manner in which you’d fallen. Both parties were happy that way. (Ego : bruised, forehead : bumped, knees scraped, but on equal ground.)

Daemon: 

To Daemon, it depends. Did it draw blood? Did you do this to yourself? If you didn’t bleed, walk it off. If someone did this to you?? Blood or not, there’s gonna be hell to pay! 

It wasn’t a big deal. Seriously. Some drunk lord was talking smack and waving his knife around, a bit too close to your face. It might have been covert threats; you weren’t really listening. You’d gotten cut. Next thing you know, Daemon is cradling your face in his hands, examining the cut under all it’s angles (it literally just has one!!!), a scowl very present on his face. 

You try to whisper comforting words to him. “It’s okay; I’m okay. It’s not deep.” But it seems to only anger him more. A deep, cavernous sound echos in the chamber, shaking you to your core, and making the usually warm atmosphere (colder by the sudden shift of Daemon’s mood) freezing now. 

The lord was scrambling, apologies spurting out of his mouth faster than he could breathe; the man was already half up when Daemon spoke. His gaze was still locked on the bleeding cut on your cheek. 

“Making such a pretty thing bleed. Tis a distasteful hobby.” He said, growled, at the man. The lord only agreed, probably hoping that it would help his cause. 

“It’s nothing.” You tried to soothe your lover again, but Daemon’s gaze snapped to your eyes, his hands once gently cradling your face now becoming more tense, squishing your cheeks a tad to silence you. Not your battle to fight anymore. 

Caraxes’ fire burnt in his eyes. 

Helaena: 

She’ll soothe you to the best of her abilities, but she’s not a maester and thus is no good at healing, except to press something over the blood. That she knows. She might be a bit panicked due to her lack of knowledge. 

“I’m fine, my lady.” You laugh quietly, moving your head away from Helaena’s grip. 

She was holding her carefully embroidered project to your bloody nose. “How can you be? You’re bleeding!” She told you in a small, huffy voice that she kept for the sleeping children near yourselves. 

“This tends to happen when someone opens a door on your nose.” You teased softly, taking her hands in yours to steady her movements. 

“I didn’t know you were behind it!” She claims (again) exasperation dripping into her tone, eyes wide. You chuckled, letting one of her hands go to push back a strand of her hair from her face. 

“I never said you were to blame, my lady.” You kissed the hand remaining in your, a smirk plastered on your lips, the taste of iron prominent on your tongue. 

“Come, let’s get you properly cleaned up; you’ve bled all over your clothes.”

Jacaerys: 

As Jace rarely spends time away from you (or has you alone), you don’t often get hurt by accident. Or, if someone hurts you with the intention to do it, that’s another story, and Jace will search for retribution (wait— that’s probably more Vermax, but who knows…) 

Head held low, sitting like a child being sermoned as Jace paces around your shared chambers quietly. The maester had only just left, and you had dreaded that situation in which you were now trusted. Objectively, due to the wings that were nervously (angrily) fluttering behind Jace at every step, you knew that he was probably having a heated conversation with Vermax. 

Your injury was not bad, per se. It wasn’t good either, and your arm would be in a sling for months to come, but you hadn’t been in any mortal danger. Sure, young Joffrey and little Aegon were playing roughly, but it wasn’t that dramatic!

“Jace…” You spoke softly, deciding to address the elephant in the room quicker so the tension would melt. 

“You could’ve hurt yourself worst. How could you think it was a good idea to let the toss you around?” He spat, his eyes burning with a worried fire inside of them. His tone was strained—not entirely Jace, but not wholly Vermax either. 

“It’s healthy for young boys to play fighting!” You defended calmly, raising from your seat to approach your lover, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“I should like you to remain whole instead.” He scoffed, wrapping his arms around your middle to bring you closer to his chest. He presses a kiss to your forehead, minding not to place your broken arm in way of more hurt. His body is warmer than usual; the wave of emotions is probably the cause for it. 

“I promise to you that I’ll be more careful and mindful,” you added when Jace’s brows furrowed, “of my non-dragon self.” 

A churtle escaped the man’s throat, and his arms tightened around you. “Don’t joke around; I’m mad at you.” He huffed, making you smile. 

Laenor:

Laenor is more diplomatic than most. He finds that some injuries are good for the built of characters, and so he is not too alarmed when you come back with scraped knees and such. He will spend some time tending to you and comforting you, too. But in no way, shape, or form will it be something that gives him anxiety. 

“Are you hurt?” Laenor called down the mat of the (rather large) fishing boat he’d brought you for a small trip as another angry wave crashed on the bow and over the deck. Staggering, you held on to whatever was nearer (and stable enough to help you keep your footing). 

“No!” Somehow, your voice went over the sound of the angry sea and angrier skies to meet Laenor’s ears, and with a solanel nod, he dropped to the deck. 

“Good.”

 

Rhaenyra: 

Another one who’ll be very zen about the whole ordeal. People get hurt; it’s life. People get attacked; it’s also life. Oh, what’s that? They got fired? They found them dead?? How sad.

“What is it, Beloved?” She called out to you, her nose buried in an important report. She heard the door of the room open and close, the usual smell of your bathing oils giving you up to her sense of smell. 

“There’s a new kitchen boy.” 

Your answer was short, to the point, accusatory, even, but it didn’t seem to matter to Rhaenyra, as she simply gazed up at you for a second, diving back down into her report afterward. 

She took a deep breath, placing the paper down and taking another one, looking utterly unbothered. The golden, shimmering scales on her forearms mired against the walls, lit up by the candles on her desk, but it didn’t bring the smile it usually did. Instead, you crossed your arms against your chest, awaiting an answer. 

“Rotation within the staff happens, my heart; it’s hardly something I can control.” 

You scoffed a little. “So, it’s not about yesterday’s incident, then?” Rhaenyra looked back at you, eyebrow raised, either quizzically or mockingly; you couldn’t decipher which. 

“Whatever do you mean?”

Your eyes narrowed, and you walked closer to her desk, leaning against it to close the distance between both of you further. “The spilled tea? Your threats have been heard loud and clear. Was it not your doing?” You accused her in a cold tone that an untrained ear could mistake for calmness. Rhaenyra only smiled. 

“I know not what you speak of, darling.” 

Taglist: @lady-dragon-rider

[nakylvr]

How do u think Sophia would react to T!masc s/o coming out to her? ^^ or do u have more general t!masc s/o x Sophia hcs you’d like to share w us ? :))

i decided to do general hcs along with reader coming out to her 🫶

warnings/tags: fluff, established relationship, transmasc!reader, reader uses he/him pronouns, mentions of dysphoria (1 hc), mentions of transphobia (1 hc), language

coming out to her

obviously sophia is a very very supportive person and girlfriend in general, so when you sit her down and say you want to talk about something, she's a little confused but she doesn't say anything and just lets you talk. once you finish she's grabbing your hands and smiling at you, telling you that it's okay, that she supports you, and that it doesn't change anything about her loving you. she's super quick to switching to whatever name you want to be called and will explain it to the kats if you don't want to deal with coming out again to them, but she won't if you want to. she just wants you to be comfortable with everyone without any worries, so she'll do whatever you want. she won't pressure you into coming out to your friends or the kats if she was the first person you told, telling you that you can take your own time and that it doesn't change anything. that's the one thing she often reiterates in the first weeks, especially when you start telling your friends. she wants you to know that it genuinely doesn't change anything or the way she loves you.

general hcs

• she will be lowkey forcing you to go shopping with her to get you new clothes and such, most likely using her brother as reference so that you don't look a total mess without style, probably maxing out a credit card but she doesn't care

• when you cut your hair she just smiles so wide when she sees it and is immediately taking pictures with you in the mirror when you get home, her hand on your head with a grin on her face and captioning it with "my pretty boy"

• she's very good at making sure you aren't uncomfortable no matter what. like quietly asking if you're okay when out with others or just giving you a look that asks it without her saying anything. if you are but say no, she can immediately tell, and she'll make up some excuse to leave and go back home

• if you start binding or use tape, she will be telling you to take it off after 8 hours, she doesn't care how much you say "its fine" or that you won't get hurt, she'll just stare at you deadpan until you do it. if you tell her that you've kept it on longer she will smack you on your head telling you to not do it again

• sophia goes all out for your birthday, she does every year, so it's not a real surprise when you come home and there's a big setup for you. she gets you so many presents you're not sure how she affords them all, but you aren't complaining. she gets you everything you wanted and more, asking her brothers and friends what else to get you cause she worries

• she will instantly be changing to more masculine petnames and such once you come out to her, they just kinda spill from her mouth before she can think about it, and the first time it happens she thinks she fucked up by your unreadable expression on your face. but the second you smile she feels a lot better, and will definitely use them a lot more just to see you smiling

• sophia is one of the best people to be with when you're feeling really dysphoric, and she can tell just by your actions and mannerisms. she's not a pusher, she first asks if you're okay, and if you tell the truth then she's suggesting that she stays with you for the day. no matter how much you try to convince her that it's fine, she will stay anyways. she does whatever you need, making your comfort food and just laying with you in bed telling you how much she loves and cares about you

• she's your #1 supporter and defender. if she posts you on her socials and you see some not nice comments about you, she can instantly tell you're upset about something and will ask about it. when you tell her what you saw she feels so bad, apologizing to you even though she has no control over it, and that she'll talk to her management about it if they can do anything. she knows people are assholes, and she doesn't want you to see her so-called "fans" trashing on you for being your own person. if this were to happen in person, you might have to hold her back from punching someone in the face, telling her it's fine and that you should just leave

• visiting her family in the philippines for the first time during her birthday, so nervous but she reassures you that they'll love you and you don't have to worry about anything. when you do meet them, it's like they've known you for as long as sophia has with how much she's told them about you. her father was the first one to greet you, and by the end of the trip he's already calling you his son in law which you tell sophia about in near tears and she just feels so happy that you're comfortable with them, especially if you don't have that support with your own family. her brothers get close with you as well, and her mother pulls her aside to say how good you are for her and that she shouldn't let go of you. sophia just replies with "i know, i won't."

• when you start hrt/t she is so excited for you. she literally marks it in her calendar to remember the date every year. if you ask her to do your shot for you, she's hesitant at first, but she'll do it. she's great at it which surprises both of you, and honestly she's just amazed at how much trust you have in her for her to do it for you. she'll do it whenever you ask, whether that's only a few times when you're alternating the position and have to do your arm, or every time if you're freaked out with needles. she'll doesn't mind and won't ever get upset with you when you ask, she'll do it in an instant, always giving you a chaste kiss when she's finished saying she loves you

• she will start stealing your clothes. you don't realize it at first, but when you notice hoodies and sweatpants gone you have a feeling. then you come home one day and she's wearing them and you get a warm feeling in your chest seeing her in your clothes. it doesn't bother you, and it's a little silly how whenever she goes on live and is wearing your clothes fans can immediately tell it's yours by how baggy it is on her and that she wouldn't wear those clothes otherwise

[brb-on-a-quest]

THE CHOCCY POTATOES EXPERIMENT

idk what else to call this

First off, many thanks goes to @foursixtwonineoh-pizzas-of-lego for taking one for the team and trying this first. I saw ur post, and went like hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Kudos to you for being an accurate peer review, but I wanted to try and give them proper justice. Because: hypothesis, it's essentially the same thing and wouldn't taste that bad, just maybe a bit sweeter. but also 2) mashed potatoes tastes better if u use real potatoes not the powdered, instant kind (personal preference).

So I did what any other bored human being would do an immediately conscripted the Birb Bestie(TM) to join in my cause (namely to let me desecrate her kitchen and her potatoes for food crimes and i'd supply the choccy milk).

(is this really even a food crime if we are still following the three chief guidelines of highests of chefs and bestests of traveling companions, samwise gamgee? Boil them, mash them, stick them in a stew?)

(ok so now that that's out of my system, we continue)

The very scientific process:

peel potatoes (apparently i do this wrong and was not allowed to continue to further steps, So i plan tumblr post and take pics that i can't end up using bc phone died on my way home from dropping friend off)

chop potatoes in excruciatingly smol pieces so they cook faster.

enjoy quality time with bestie and get Hyped

Bestie Remembers that You Must Add Water to Potatoes and goes to put smol amount of water in pot (she is more exact with measurements but also we only did two potatoes so didn't need a lot).

quick vibe break while things cook, also try the Drink One of the Tumblr Moots Recommended

6. Mash and add choccy milk

The Results:

looks slightly pink but also same vibe of "ITS THE GREY STUFF" from beauty and the beast (I used true moo choccy milk may have affected results)

It tastes like normal

no seriously, it tastes like normal mashed potatoes there's no real hint of chocolate

*add butter and salt* WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT TASTES LIKE NORMAL MASHED POTATOES

*adds more choccy milk* ⇾ proceeds to taste like chocolate milk with stuff in it. like orange juice with pulp kinda vibe.

kinda relieved it didn't taste bad but also kinda wished it did *something*

took one trip to grab actual lunch and one screening of the barbie movie.

Had to come home and explain to my mother why this was worth going out and spending 1.89 on chocolate milk and consider this an enjoyable way to spend the afternoon (she still doesn't get i; i think she thinks I'm an idiot, which yk, not an unreasonable conclusion.)

@cygnusdoesthings @walkthruthewords my final update on the choccy potatoes saga.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

If you were to like redesign Magneto's classic outfit in a way that both suits the character and your own tastes, how would you redesign it?

uhhhh errrmmmmm i dont know i really couldnt improve upon perfection but i have still tried for you my friend !!!

[devondespresso]

so i didn't get why archery was an obvious choice so uh i accidentally went on a tangent in the tags that i don't feel like retyping

[luck-of-the-drawings]

"I think this is the most inhuman; and human, that I've ever felt.." MUCH CAN HAPPEN IN A YEAR. IN FIVE YEARS. A DECADE. imagine how much can happen in a century. just ONE (1). How will you grow? what phases do you find? even in 5 years, you will find patterns.