#but that like wasn't even my first choice

[wroetominter]

Three Peaks - George Clarke

Warnings: none, some swearing

Thank you for the request! I have some serious writers block right now so bear with as the time between posts may be a little longer. I appreciate you!

———

"I don't know how I got roped into this one" I adjusted the microphone I was securing to Chris' t-shirt. He chuckled, patting my shoulder as I finished.

"Well, there aren't many of you fit enough to actually climb three mountains so it was quite the easy choice." Chris said. I sighed, shaking my head. Mentally slapping myself for telling Chris casually that I enjoyed a good hike.

Chris had the thought for a video that honestly, I couldn't even make fun of. It was a really well thought out idea. A group of his friends and crew tackling the three peaks challenge. Which is essentially just climbing three mountains in 24 hours. Seems damn near impossible, especially considering the group he had.

I had been part of Chris' camera crew for almost a year now, and I felt like I had really found a good group of friends in this job. Outside of filming I had been hanging out with Chris and his core group frequently. Many nights spent out at different pubs, or simply hanging out at their flat.

"Let's get going shall we?" Chris began to lead the group. I stuck towards the middle, filming the boys who had taken the lead.

Reev, Chris, and George led the pack as we began the ascent to the top of our first mountain.

"I can already tell this is going to be fucking awful." I heard from behind me. I turned my head to see Arthur Hill beginning the days complaints.

"George you owe me a tenner!" Television shouted from beside him.

"What?" I asked in confusion.

"I placed a bet that Hill would be the first to complain." Television explained. I threw my head back laughing, panning the camera to catch Hills reaction. He deadpanned and just stared at the camera.

"Don't worry Arthur, I'm not looking forward to this either."

Each boy had been given their own special challenge for the video, and I was really enjoying watching Reev attempt to put rocks in the boys shoes.

"What's your challenge?" I asked Chris as I caught up to him.

"I need to get someone to believe a fake fact about each mountain." He whispered to the camera.

"That feels alarmingly easy considering the group we're with." I said. He agreed and told me he was already scheming up his first lie to tell Arthur.

We had been climbing for close to two hours by this point, and we were nearing the peak.

"Enjoying yourself love?" George asked me as he took a seat on the rock next to me.

"It's not nearly as bad as I expected it to be, I'll be honest." I snacked on the apple slices I packed, offering one out to George.

We sat in a comfortable silence, watching the others as they bantered back and forth with each other.

I sat and admired George as he laughed, not being able to help myself from laughing along. He had an infectious laugh. Chris caught me staring at George and raised an eyebrow at me. He was the only one of the group who knew I had somewhat of a crush on George. I had unfortunately admitted it to him accidentally after one drink too many during a pub crawl.

We had all gotten up again to keep our pace going up the mountain. The terrain upwards wasn't too bad. The most annoying part by far was having to continue to film while simultaneously making sure I didn't fall down.

"I never thought this would end!" Arthur Hill screamed as we reached the peak.

"I'm sure you're used to hearing that in bed." Harry joked with him patting him on the back.

We all shared a laugh and took in the nice view. It wasn't long before we realized that 'huh, guess we just go down now' and begin to descend the mountain.

I trailed behind Chris and ArthurTV, catching some of their conversation as Chris tried to convince Arthur that some celebrity had been the first person to complete this challenge. I had to actively hold in a giggle as I knew Chris was having him on with his challenge.

During my distracted state, I felt myself slide to the side as my foot hit a loose rock that sent me falling down. Instinctively deciding to protect my camera, I took the full brunt of the fall to my hip and legs.

"Shit, are you alright?" George asked jogging to catch up to me.

Catching my breath after scaring myself with the fall, I nodded towards him. I turned my camera off and stuck it in its carrying bag beside me, examining my ankle.

It was fairly scraped up, and was slightly throbbing. Nothing that felt it would be too crazy but painful nonetheless.

A few of the others called out to see if I was okay. I gave them a thumbs up.

"I'll stay with her and help her down, you guys can go ahead we'll just be a few minutes." George called back to them.

"Does it hurt?" He asked me, grazing his fingertips over my ankle to assess.

"Not a ton, I think I was more shocked by the fall than anything. I'll be fine George, thank you for staying behind with me." I smiled at him, noting his features contorted with uncertainty at my words.

He stood up, holding his hands out for me to help me up. I happily grabbed them and put pressure on my ankle, feeling a tinge of pain but it was bearable.

I stood upright, George still holding onto my hands to make sure I was steady. He never took his eyes off of mine, scanning my face for any sign of pain.

"I'm good George, I promise." He smiled at me, squeezing my hands.

"I think it's time to reveal my challenge to you." His words took me by surprise as I had no idea where this topic had come from.

He let go of my hands, fishing around in his pocket and pulling out a cue card similar to the other boys. He unfolded it and turned it towards me.

In small, easily recognizable handwriting I read off 'tell Y/n you have feelings for her you dumb twat'. Chris. Of course Chris would write that.

I looked back up to him, his face flushed from either embarrassment or anxiety, I couldn't tell.

"I assume what's written there is true?" I asked George, looking to him for confirmation. He nodded, sliding the paper back into his pocket.

We both stood there a little awkwardly for a moment, neither of us being particularly good at the whole admitting feelings thing.

"Your feelings are mutual." I said, cutting the silence. His eyes widened at me, a smile breaking on his features.

He put an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer for a hug.

"How about we talk more about this over dinner once we’re done with the next two mountains?” He propositioned.

I groaned, “I forgot we still have two fucking mountains to go.” He laughed as I pouted.

He slid his hand up to my cheek, bringing his face closer to mine and connecting our lips in a short, sweet kiss.

“This should give you something to look forward to” he said as he pulled away. It was my turn for my cheeks to turn pink. Despite how tired and sweaty we already were, he still looked absolutely perfect.

“I suppose I can make it through as long as you promise not to let me fall again.” He laughed.

“I’ll do my best.”

We walked downwards, eventually catching up with the others who had stopped for a water break.

“Finally you two made it! Began to think you two were shacking up up there!” ArthurTV exclaimed.

I rolled my eyes at him, laughing.

“Not quite shacking up, but my challenge is complete.” George bragged, Chris’ head shot towards us at these words.

“No way.” He said, looking to me for confirmation.

“Yes way” I replied, George put his arm over my shoulder once again and we watched as the mental cogs turned in the other boys heads.

“Oh my god he finally got the balls to tell her!” Arthur Hill screamed, jumping around like a fangirl.

I looked to George who just shook his head in embarrassment. “Did everyone know except me?” I asked only loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

I knew then that the next two mountains would likely be sex jokes and embarrassing stories, and I was weirdly looking forward to it.

[okaysonny]

okkkayy, what if jake got his gf pregnant before marriage what would his mom’s reaction be + other big deal members 😶😶?? (love your fics btww!!!)

ACCIDENTAL PREGNANCY 😧 ╏ jake kim

a/n: unserious. and thanks anon!

you always use protection. plus, the pill is 99% effective at preventing this. and yet...

"...i'm pregnant"

★ jake stands there with a stupid look on his face because he's stupid.

★ to be honest, he doesn't want to bring a child into the world when he's leading big deal. jake wants to retire before even thinking about it. he loves you, but this isn't something he planned for.

★ has a serious discussion about the risks, making sure you understand the weight of the situation. still, he knows it's your choice in the end. once it's clear you want to keep the baby, jake respects your decision. he's the type to step up no matter what.

★ watches parenting videos at night while rubbing his temples.

★ tells minseon first 😬 this is the part that scares him the most.

★ his mom: pissed as hell 🤣

★ the second jake tells her, she puts out her cigarette with tight lips. he's already sweating.

"jake kim" "...yes, mother?" "are you telling me you got a girl pregnant before putting a ring on her finger?" "t-the thing is..." "like father, like son"

★ she’d ask all the hard questions: how are you going to raise a baby in this life? do you think this is fair to the child? are you ready for this kind of responsibility?

★ anddd i have a feeling that if you're from a 'normal' family, she'd have more reservations. not that minseon is classist, but y'know...

★ jake explains that you always did it safely, so the pregnancy wasn't from recklessness. he's aware of the risks, but it's your decision to keep the baby. he wants to step up and support you.

★ ...that does get her eyes to soften.

"well...in any case, i know you'll do a better job than your own father"

★ i think in canon right now, jake and his mother have a strained relationship. as far as we know, he only visits minseon when he needs something! 😅 + she resents that he supposedly hates his father...yet became a gangster like him and left her on her own...just like gapryong.

★ but minseon also knows that jake didn't inherit his womanizing side. she knows that he'll be a great father, even if he doesn't think so.

★ she may be tough, but deep down, she’s happy about a grandchild...even subtly offers to mind the baby if jake is too busy and you need a break.

★ she ends up cooking for you. the baby needs to be healthy.

now...he needs to tell big deal...

★ sinu would be so happy for jake. he cares about him like a younger brother, so once the initial shock settles, he’d smile and congratulate him properly.

but then it would hit him.

jake, who never seemed to care about relationships in the first place, is having a kid before him.

"god...yeonhui is gonna have a field day with this. you better start saving man. kids are expensive"

★ would yeonhui scare him as a joke? absolutely.

"sinu, what if i accidentally got pregnant? would you step up like jake?" "h-hold on..."

★ you already know jerry would do the absolute most 😭

★ immediately places a loyalty hand on jake's shoulder.

"boss…you’re going to be a father?" his voice is trembling, like jake just told him he's DYING. "i will lay down my life for this child. it is my duty as number 2" "jerry...i didn't even ask you to- are you crying?"

★ jerry starts researching baby vitamins + recommending parenting books. already thinking about making the child wear a tiny big deal jacket.

★ jason and brad feel like the same characters to me. i'm sorry. i guess jason is portrayed as more blunt and serious?

"jake...don't take this the wrong way, but i don't think you know anything about babies" "you don't think i know that, jason?"

★ the girls knit a baby blanket together :') and make one of those "we're so excited to meet you" videos.

★ jake would not half ass being a dad. he’d try his hardest to balance big deal and fatherhood, even though it won’t be easy. but the baby will be loved. from the parents, the girls and big deal.

bonus!

lineman leans back in his chair, surveying the small pile of cash on the table. "alright, i’m locking in my bet — it’s a boy"

lua scoffs. "nah, you’re wrong. it’s definitely a girl. and she’s gonna have him wrapped around her finger before she can talk"

lineman shakes his head. "a girl? we’d have to protect her from all the freaks in this city. a boy would be easier"

"a boy would be just as much trouble!" she rolls her eyes. "but imagine boss jake with a daughter. he’d be like, the ultimate girl dad"

"tch, we’ll see about that. alright, bets are at 50/50. let's see if anyone else wants to-"

"...guys" an all too familiar voice booms behind them.

lineman and lua turn to look at jerry like children caught with the cookie jar.

"you’re betting on boss jake’s child? his future offspring?" he shakes his head in disappointment. "this is incredibly inappropriate"

lineman and lua exchange a guilty glance.

lua has the courage to speak. "i mean…yeah, but—"

"shame on you two" jerry crosses his arms. "both of them deserve respect, not this gambling on their unborn child’s gender"

lineman suddenly has an idea. "so jerry...you must think it's a girl, right?"

jerry nods. "obviously. can't you see it? imagine her holding jake's pinkie with her tiny little hands"

lua smirks, catching lineman's drift as he discreetly slides a notepad to her. "so hypothetically...you'd place a bet on girl?"

he closes his eyes, lost in thought. "exactly. she’d teach him patience, unconditional love—"

lua nods, cutting him off as she jots notes down. "mhm. yeah. and how much are you putting down?"

jerry strokes his chin. "i'd say...30,000 won, easy-"

he blinks. "wait..."

jerry's jaw drops, the betrayal evident on his face. "you tricked me"

lineman grins, holding his hands up. "of course not. you just wanna see boss jake become a girl dad. that’s passion"

jerry opens his mouth to argue — then closes it. he shamefully places cash on the table.

"this stays between us" he whispers, glancing from side to side.

lua nods in satisfaction. "of course"

jason walks by, looking at the money on the table. "you guys are still on this? fine, put me down for a boy. 75,000 won"

˚⊱🪷⊰˚

jake blinks in disbelief when the truth gets exposed. "...you guys are betting? on my child?"

lineman, lua, and jason whistle, staring at the wall in fascination.

jake looks at jerry, expecting some shame.

jerry looks down, fiddling with his fingers. "...i was tricked"

divider: @thecutestgrotto

[rainbow-neko-artblog]

What was the biggest disappointment about the chapter in your opinion?

There was a lot of things- things I called from day one and said I would be disappointed with if they did. The list from most disappointing to least. Beware of spoilers:

-Ollie being the prototype: stupid stupid stupid stupid i hate it its such a blatant rip off of the mimic i hate it so fucking much no wonder chapter 4 was buggy to all hell when mob entertainment is stealing all its ideas from steal wool -The Doctor being the first ever straight up EVIL character in Poppy playtime, and yet somehow, the most disappointing. He had no reason to do the things he did- he was just bitter towards Ludwig for removing him from a program for his own good and was an asshole who tried to sabotage his whole company after his death, and continued to do so even when he was turned into a giant super computer. Despite all his boasting about the omni-hand giving him /god mode i feel like mommy long legs did a better job at rigging things against us while the doctor barely makes an attempt. Its like he doesn't even want to live anymore. Hell I'm not even convinced half of what we do to him was necessary- he didn't need the meaty bits to continue talking- so why did he have them anyways? STUPID. STUPID. STUPID. I'm going to shove him into a Tamagotchi. -The omni hand is a copout. why the FUCK does it have a set number of charges- what if an administrator got stuck in a room with no charges left. DUMB. dumb. so dumb. -Poppy getting mad at us for killing doey as if we wanted to, as if we werent all tricked, thats always broken my immersion in games- when characters get mad at you for the plot. It's like- I WOULDNT HAVE CHOSEN TO DO IT MYSELF!!! -It would have been EASY to get Doey back to his senses, because the tape to do so was literally like 3 rooms from where we killed him- and the doctor had given us choices before. so why didn't we get choices to save Doey here? -One of the tapes shows a reflection of our character, revealing that we are infact 100% human- unless there's a toy stuffed into that hazmat suit we got on. -Mob entertainment has a habit of giving us cutouts for characters with absolutely no screentime and it pisses me off. The nightmare critters were obviously a money grab because of the success of the smiling critters, there wasn't a single section that included them that I didn't think could have easily been replaced with the Smiling critters. YET THEY DIDN'T EVEN GIVE US CUTOUTS. I continue to hate the nightmare critters.

THE ONLY GOOD THING that came from this chapter is that people will stop yelling at me about Dogday being Dr. White because they share the same voice actor- because its been officially debunked that Poppy isn't Stella Graybur even though they share a voice actor. Voice actor connections have no sway in which humans end up in which toys in lore, and MAN does that make me feel so vindicated.

[hitorim106]

"A Wolf At My Window"

synopsis: Childhood friend Caleb pays you a visit in the middle of the night. word count: 1.8k notes: This is the first fic I've posted in a long long time (so nervous!!), but I want to post more Love and Deepspace Vocaloid song fics so.... I was listening to Romeo and Cinderella by Doriko and could not stop thinking about Caleb to this song so... Enjoy your food freaks. warnings: Forbidden love, friends to lovers, Juliet complex, childhoodfriend!Caleb, naive reader, love and obsession, coming of age, rebellion, not beta read we die like granny?

ロミオとシンデレラ

0:58 ──♡───── 4:41

Caleb had always been there. In the morning when the sky bled with pink and gold hues, waiting for you outside the door. At school, where his laughter was a shield, making sure no one saw how you shrunk under the attention. In the evening, when the soft glow of the lamp on your bedside was often shared with his silhouette, leaning against the frame while he teases you for reading romance novels instead of studying.

For years, he had been your constant. Your safe place. And maybe that's why you haven't questioned why his presence felt heavier than normal lately. Or why his gaze lingered too long. Why, when you met his eyes, you felt something tightening in your chest that had nothing to do with comfort.

Tonight, he wasn't waiting by the door. He wasn't teasing you about your choice of fiction, or ruffling your hair as he walked past. Tonight, Caleb was at the window.

You swallowed, gripping the edge of the blanket, staring at his silhouette through the glass. Your heart pounded. The rational part of you knew you should be started, maybe even a little scared. But you weren't.

With shaky fingers, you open the window.

"You know," you whispered, your voice barely above the wind, "normal people use the front door."

Caleb's lips curved as he pushed the window up further. His hands—big, sturdy—gripping the frame as he hoisted himself inside, "And normal people don't let in wolves after dark," he murmured, his voice lower than usual. Softer.

The air in the room changed.

He didn't step back. Didn't put any space between you two. Instead, he reached up, fingertips brushing against your cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. It was a simple touch. Barely anything. And yet, it felt like everything.

"Caleb—"

"Shh," he whispered. You froze as his thumb traced your jaw, tilting your chin up. "You always look away when I get too close."

You swallowed, "Well maybe you shouldn't get so close, then."

His smile deepened, but there was something unreadable in his expression. Something that sent a slow heat curling down your spine.

"That's the thing," he murmured, leaning down, his forehead nearly brushing against yours, "I don't think I can stop."

Your breath caught.

His other hand found your waist, fingers curling slightly—possessive, firm, like he wanted to make sure you didn't step away. But you weren't going to.

"How far can we venture tonight?" You whispered before you could stop myself.

Caleb stilled. His grip on your waist tightened just enough for you to feel the heat of his palm through the lace of your pink pajama top. Then, slowly, he smiled again. This time without amusement, without teasing.

"You tell me," he said, voice low, "but I'll warn you, I don't like being told to stop."

A soft shiver ran through you.

Your fingers curled against his chest, not pushing him away, but grounding yourself, "Be gentle," you murmured, looking up at him through your lashes, "I still don't like bitter tastes."

He exhaled, something like frustration flickered through his eyes. "Then don't tempt me."

You bit your lip.

And then his restraint snapped.

His lips found the corner of your mouth first, brushing, teasing, like he was waiting for you to push away. When you don't, he takes more. A slow, drawn-out kiss, his hands slide up, fingers pressing into the back of your back, pulling you closer. You barely had time to breathe before he kissed you again, hungrier this time, like he was trying to make up for all the times he held himself back.

When you break apart, you were breathless. Your head was spinning.

"Caleb," you whispered.

He studied you, something unreadable in his expression. Then, slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out. A silver chain. A delicate charm at the end.

You frowned. "What's that?"

"A promise," he murmured, lifting it, carefully fastening it around your wrist. "That I won't let anyone take you away."

You swallowed. "That sounds more like a collar than a promise."

His lips twitched, but his grip on your wrist was steady. "Same thing, isn't it?"

You should've been alarmed. You should've questioned him.

But as you looked at him—the boy who had always been there, who had always protected you, who had always wanted more but never dared to ask—you realised something.

You didn't want to run.

Not from him.

Not tonight.

Maybe not ever.

The thought should've scared you. Should've made you take a step back, regain some distance. But you didn't move. Instead, you let your fingers brush around your wrist. The metal was cool against your skin, delicate, but firm. A promise, he had said. A collar, you had called it.

Maybe it was both.

You looked up at him, at the way his purple eyes burned in the dim glow of your bedside lamp. You had never thought of him as dangerous before. But now, standing here in the silence, the window still cracked open, letting in the cold night air, you realised—

He was the wolf if your story.

Not the prince.

Not the hero.

But the one who came I through the window instead of the door.

And you weren't stopping him.

His fingers traced the inside of your wrist, right where your pulse fluttered. He hadn't let go since he put the chain on you.

“You’re quiet,” Caleb murmured, watching you too closely.

You wet your lips. “I’m thinking.”

A slow, knowing smile. “About what?”

You hesitated. “About how my dad doesn’t like you.”

Caleb exhaled through his nose, like he expected that answer. “That’s nothing new.”

"He's going to notice if I start wearing this." you held up your wrist, the chain glinting in the low light.

His fingers curled around your wrist. "So don't take it off."

"Caleb—"

"I mean it." He pulled you closer, voice soft but firm, "It suits you."

You swallowed. "That's not the point. You know what he's like. If he founds out—"

"I don't care."

His voice wasn't sharp. Wasn't loud. But it cut through the air between you all the same. You felt your stomach twist, my breath catch. "You're not the one who has to deal with him."

His jaw tensed, "No. But I could take you away from it all."

You froze.

He wasn't teasing.

He wasn't being playful.

He meant it.

And for a single, wild moment—you wanted to say yes.

You wanted to be like those girls in the stories, the ones who ran away with their prince charming, who let themselves be carried off before the clock struck twelve. The ones who didn't have the think about their father's disappointment, or their mother's worried sighs, or the way everyone expected them to be good, obedient, reasonable

But this wasn't a fairy tale. Real life wasn't a fairy tale.

You stepped back. Just a little. Just enough for your back to hit the edge of your desk. "You're talking I'm some princess locked in a tower."

"Arent you?"

You glared. "I have a life here. A family. You can't just take me away."

Caleb studied you for a moment. Then, finally, he exhaled and let go of your wrist, his touch leaving behind the phantom warmth of his touch. "Fine," he said, too easily. "Then let me be the one who stays."

You frowned. "What?"

"You heard me." His expression softened, but there was something dangerous under the surface. "I won't take you anywhere. But I'll make sure no one else does either."

Yet another shiver runs down your spine. "That's not how this works."

He tilted his head. "Then how does it work?"

You hesitated.

Because deep down.. you knew.

If you told him to stop, if you told him to leave, he would.

But you didn't want him to.

You just didn't know if you could handle what it would mean if he stayed.

"I don't want to be someone's Juliet." You muttered, not looking at him.

Caleb let out a low chuckle. "I know. I'm not asking you to be."

My stomach twisted again. "Then what are you asking?"

Silence.

And then—

His fingers brushed under your chin, tilting your face up.

"Stay with me." He murmured, voice low, steady. "That's all."

Stay with me.

Not run away with me.

Not be mine.

Just stay.

Your pulse pounded in your ears.

Because if you said yes. I knew this wouldn't be some fleeting thing. Caleb wasn't someone who let go. He wasn't someone who would let you change your mind later.

If you stayed—truly stayed—then you were his.

And the worst part?

You wanted to be.

Caleb's hands were warm, steady. His presence wrapped around me like a vice, unyielding, inescapable. But even as your breath caught in your throat, as his fingers dug into your waist just enough to make you aware of his weight, your mind drifted, pulled back by the ghosts of childhood, by something so simple, so innocent.

Caramels.

Your mother used to make them from scratch, stirring the golden syrup over the stove, the scent of butter and sugar thick in the air. She would hum while she worked, the same old tune she'd sung to you as a child, and when the caramel had cooled just enough, she'd cut them into little squares, wrapping each one in wax paper.

They were soft, sweet, melting on your tongue in an instant. A taste that lingered, that filled my mouth with warmth and comfort.

Caleb used to steal them when we were kids. He'd wait until Mom wasn't looking, grab one from the counter, and flash you a smug little grin. "Don't tell," he'd whisper, voice thick with mischief.

You never did.

You still remembered the way he'd look at you after taking a bite—chewing slow, savouring the flavour—before offering you the other half.

Sweet things should be shared, right?

But that was the thing about caramel, wasn't it? It was easy to choke on if you weren't careful. Too rich, too thick, too overwhelming.

And now, with Caleb pressing you against the desk, his body so close, his hands so firm, you felt like you were choking again—on something just as intoxicating, just as dangerous.

He wasn't offering something soft this time.

He wasn't giving you the last half.

He was taking.

And you still weren't stopping him.

"Tell me you don't want this." His voice was low, rough against your ear. "Tell me to leave and I will."

You swallowed hard, your fingers curling into his shirt. "Caleb..."

He waited. Patient, like he always was. But you could feel the tension in him, the way his grip tightened, like he already knew you wouldn't say it.

Because he knew you.

He had always known you.

And maybe that's why you had never been afraid of him.

Even now, when you knew—knew—that this wasn't something you could undo, that crossing this invisible boundary meant there was no going back, you still weren't afraid.

Because Caleb had always been there.

At every birthday. At every graduation. Through every stupid heartbreak, through every moment you'd felt alone.

He had been there, waiting.

And now, as your heart pounded in your chest, as his fingers traced slow, deliberate circles against your hip, you realised something terrifying.

You'd been waiting too.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[re-termination]

We may regret it one day

Twisted! Sprout x Reader

Part: Prologue

Note: Hiyyyaa Mirage here with a new interest! This is just a preview for my first series while I'm still on hiatus. Each future part will come with warnings and more notes from me with progress, so stay tuned!

He has nothing left to lose. It's over. Since the day he was subjected to his new form, a twisted, it was over. You didn't look at him with your usual eyes that were once filled with adoration. Instead, it was fear. Hell, even his best friend was at a loss of words and took off with you hesitantly.

His memories are fuzzy. He didn't remember how it all started or any other details pertaining to the disaster. So it was quite painful when the toon he loved dear, instead of staying by his side, ran off with other toons who were spared from the ichor outbreak.

Nothing left to lose, he had to get you back. To feel your embrace and warmth. No matter the price.

---

You failed to save your beloved. His once adorable and protective self was diminished to nothing but a vicious twisted. He grew taller in stature and was even able to summon tendrils at his command now. There was no staying by his side safe and sound. So, with a heavy heart, you ran like a coward with Cosmo after seeing other toons who were still normal running to safety.

You failed to save Sprout, but you now have others to protect. It hurt to leave him for the others' sake, but you weren't given any other choice that was safe.

Despite the failure, all hope wasn't lost yet. You still had the others to protect. You still had a purpose, after all. You won't fail the other toons like you failed Sprout.

Oh, how hopeful you are for the situation you are about to find yourself in.

[gub-bins]

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO PAY ANY MONEY TO SEE SPACE BABY.

YOU HAVE TO PAY MONEY IF YOU WANT TO SEE IT EARLY, ALL AT ONCE, WITH THE CREATOR TALKBACK. THIS IS A STARKID BUSINESS MODEL THAT HAS EXISTED SINCE 2014, IT IS NOT "BEHIND A SECOND PAYWALL", IT IS A WAY TO GIVE A LITTLE EXTRA MONEY TO THE ARTISTS WHO WORKED ON THE SHOW KNOWING FULL WELL THAT IT IS AN EXPERIMENTAL PILOT AND COULD FLOP.

anyways. hi this is my rant blog so here's the rant

tldr: starkid needs a social media manager, they don't make the youtube residuals or ticket sales profit you think they do, chicago and la are great places to do theatre due to the audiences they draw but they are SO FUCKING EXPENSIVE, capitalism is rotting this country from the inside out and starkid knows this better than anyone

first and foremost:

curt mega is not a legal representative of starkid and he is entirely within his rights to defend misconceptions about the art he makes. he is so respectful to the fandom on here, even apologizing to the confessions blog after accidentally following them because he wants fans to have a safe space where they don't feel like they're being monitored by someone from the company. there is nothing wrong with him trying to assuage people's fears about the show. debunk whatever you want my dude (including if i say anything wrong in this post!)

i am not, under any circumstances, a blind defender of starkid. they've made choices that i do not enjoy in the 15 years that i've been watching them. like i say in this post, i think fans need more notice than a week if there is going to be a livestream we have* to pay money for. i would like a musical that is composed by someone other than jeff or clark. i wish the black friday deluxe download had the digital ticket in it. i wish jangle ball could've come to the actual southeast rather than claiming to be coming to the east coast then hanging out in new york (but as you'll see, that would've cost MONEYYYY). you will notice that these are nitpicky personal grievances. that's the point. im not gonna shell out completely for a group of white guys in LA, no matter how autistic i am about the musicals they make.

as someone who also donated to starkid returns and has also been disappointed to see how long it's taken for this stuff to get off the ground (I absolutely loved cinderella's castle but i would not have minded waiting for it if it meant we got space baby sooner or sissy/ttip. i want to see/read Sissy SO FUCKING BAD)

but think about it. starkid returns made $386,000. a weeklong rental of the El Portal Theatre costs $12,000. so for two weeks of tech thats $24,000. the two weekends of performances were $6,000-7,500 each. it's $7500 per shoot day for a film production. already, that's almost $50,000. Now think about renting film equipment, making costumes, sets, props, paying the cast, crew, theatre technicians, house management, REHEARSAL SPACE RENTAL, we don't know if any of the actors had to be housed in LA while they were working on the show, not to mention getting merch made (FUCKING EXPENSIVE). And that's just on Nerdy Prudes. They also had an entire fucking national tour to fund. i ain't doin the math on every theatre they rented for that tho.

while the 10iversary kickstarter made about $547,000, considerably more than SK Returns, that money went into funding the travel and stay of the fuck ton of people who came to LA for the show, renting the Ace Hotel Theatre, funding Black Friday, and of course the unfathomably expensive Wiggly plushes, which were very kindly restocked what, three or four times? because the FANS kept begging for them. and then after all of that was said and done, the company took a huge hit with the pandemic. Some of the SK returns money probably went into making Workin' Boys too! That's what happens when a global pandemic shuts down all your plans for two years!

i was also surprised to hear that space baby wasn't going straight to youtube. I had it in my mind that it was going to be something similar to Movies, Musicals, and Me. I see now that I was incorrect. It's experimental. It involves SO MANY ACTORS. and not to mention starkid has been doing the digital ticket prior to youtube release thing for YEARS. my main thing is that i would be totally totally fine with having to buy another ticket for space baby (which is only $10 by the way, less than all of their other digital tickets. not to mention it includes the talkback afterwards) if they had only clarified it just a little bit earlier. Nightmare Time 2 was announced on October 8th, 2021 and the first ticketed livestream wasn't until the 23rd. that's two weeks, a whole week longer than we got for space baby. however, im willing to understand that there probably wasn't as much time to announce things/people have been a little bit scrambled lately due to, i dunno, having to evacuate due to the raging wildfire.

unfortunately, people aren't always going to understand that making art is fucking expensive in this day and age. i hate that starkid has to keep reiterating that but it might be smoother if they had a media trained person running the socials who had a prewritten explanation of "making stuff costs money" for the people who don't get it. and then when starkid DOES do stuff for cheap they get taken advantage of. i'm still not over those fuckwads who bought meredith's beautiful handmade coasters at VHSCC and upsold them for three times as much money. the people who bootlegged the black friday digital ticket and posted it online just cause they didn't want to wait the measly 3 months it took for the show to get posted online.

being angry when the person who made the show is looking at the tumblr tag for the show because he wants to see what people are saying about the show he made comes thru to clarify some misconceptions when the tumblr tag is full of people not understanding the starkid business model that's been around since 2014 is not the move. not the move!!!

[negrowhat]

I mean...

The yearning. The tender kiss. The restraint. The forehead kiss that lingers. (The acting here...) Perky denim-clad bum straddling. (A solid outfit choice). Their hands. (They are so good at natural marking, how they touch and hold each other in these scenes). The way Cir held his eyes (with that expression of barely restrained want) and swung his legs up onto his shoulder before pulling his pants off in one motion. I had to pause and exhale and laugh out loud. Because WHAT.

But also...all the licking. Sir. Here we are again, with you licking every inch of that young man. But is it just me or is this a more grown and sexy version? Licking up his neck and lingering at the adam's apple. The lips across the nipple. The little bite of the inner thigh. Yes, thank you.

And that was just the foreplay (Again, top marks boys).

Anon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You are so right about everything! This scene gave us a lot to work with! Like a full-on visual buffet. Let's go back and even talk about Phu asking Cir to kiss him again, staring up and Cir with his big soft boy eyes. And when Cir climbed on top of Phu the first time I was like Dang when did Boss start arching his back like that???

That forehead kiss was sweet and I did enjoy seeing Cir's restraint kick back in, you could see him forcing himself to pull away. Phu was sick and though they have been acting like boyfriends, they were not in fact boyfriends. BUT I'm sure he saw what a lot of us saw. Phu's disappointment. Phu didn't say anything but his expression said it all, he was disappointed that Cir pulled away from him. He wanted more. And I love that we got such a telling expression from Noeul because it reads across so well.

Also not Cir offering to help...calm down Phu's raging hard-on TWICE! After all it was Cir's fault that Phu was like that. I love that MAME makes sure we all know that these main characters are in fact men because the boners Cir and Phu have been popping for each other over the past few eps have been a highlight.

I did love the licking of Phu's Adam's Apple and his chin and his chest. Loved the swift unbuttoning Cir did, it was so smooth and seamless. LOVED seeing Cir's big ole hand on Phu's chest and side. Loved the constant eye contact from Cir to Phu. I'm sure it was to make sure that Phu was fine with everything he was doing, but Boss does lusty, horny eyes so well. Love seeing Phu's hand buried in Cir's hair for most of the scene. You could really see him sinking his fingers in.

I wasn't expecting a blowjob scene though. A ton of BLs just jump right into the sex and we don't get a lot of forms of sexual intimacy outside of that (Not saying we don't get them at all, just not as often as one would like).

Also Cir allowing Phu to have control of that situation. I wasn't expecting so much hair gripping and Phu pushing Cir's head down. He set the pace and Cir just followed. Love that we got to see such pretty expressions from Phu too but I hate that Cir didn't get to enjoy his facial expressions.

This scene did give me serious PayuRain nostalgia with Phu being sick and Cir still kissing him. And also the inner thigh kissing.

Cir's brief bathroom scene seemed to imply that he might have jerked off in there (or maybe it was said in the novel) and I'm sure he probably rinsed out his mouth, like I was telling my friend, I'm sure Cir swallowed after giving Phu the best head of his life. And I just love that they go back to being cute and soft and sweet. I love that Phu is once again shy and Cir is back to being concerned about Phu being sick and alone.

[vettelsvee]

MY TORTURED DRIVERS DEPARTMENT VOL. XI ⸻ THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT A Formula 1 fics compilation based on Taylor Swift's songs from The Tortured Poets Department

This compilation will include short stories about all Formula 1 drivers (current of retired) of your choice. To request one, just send me a message on my Tumblr inbox with the driver you want me to write about alongside the song that will inspire the fic. The ones in bold are already chosen and will be written as soon as possible <3

These works will be driver x reader and will be, mostly, written fics and SMAU.

Taglist is open for all of you who want to join me in my very own tortured drivers department! Just let me know in the comments!

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

1. MY BOY ONLY BREAKS HIS FAVORITE TOYS Driver of your choice x Reader You just want him to be like your friends' boyfriends: nice, romantic, pulling up the question and start building a family together. To your not so surprise, all he answers is no, breaking your dreams in a thousand pieces and making you realize you're just a toy to have fun with

2. BUT DADDY, I LOVE HIM Prince!Mick Schumacher x Princess!Reader ⋆ Modern royalty AU You were the heir of your kingdom and all expectations were in you. Your future is already built up by your parents, including a husband that you, definitely, do't want to marry because you're in love with other prince that it's not a piece of cake for your parents and, moreover, your kingdom

3. FLORIDA!!! Driver of your choice x Reader Not knowing what to do with you live after finishing university, you decide to go to Florida to start over again and trying to find out what's the next step you need to take in your life. Bumping into your favorite Formula 1 driver while panicking because you lost your phone wasn't exactly part of that trip

4. loml Singer!Sebastian Vettel x Actress!Reader ⋆ La La Land AU Your careers were an absolute mess, but you found each other in the perfect time to help each other making your dreams come true... even when you didn't know that you wouldn't be part of the other's future

5. I CAN DO IT WITH A BROKEN HEART Boyfriend!Driver of your choice x Singer!Reader Paparazzis post pictures of him kissing a girl and, before you go to stage with him in the backstage, you just have to fake everything till the very end of your first show of your worldwide tour

6. SO HIGH SCHOOL University student!Driver of your choice x University student!Reader ⋆ University AU One of your projects in your Journalism degree is interviewing someone from the Sciences field. You can't find anyone until he sees you struggling in the library and he offers to be interviewed by you. In that moment, you feel like back in high school since that Engineering student is way too nice with you

[seiishindraws]

Hii, I saw your latest post and your art style is so pretty?? What?? I have a question though. How do you do the paint one? Or rendering in general. Like genuinely, I have a problem with rendering and I can't seem to quite understand it on my own. Do you just start with flat colors? Do you do lineart or colors right after the sketch? Is the "lineart" just added later? Painted over? Erased to give thinner and thicker lines?? I'm really curious!!

hi! im not the best painter tbh! though i do have a background in painting but ill try my best to explain

diff artists have different approaches to how they paint but generally yes, you would start out with big shapes first and then go into the details - work big picture first. like, if you squint and the drawing makes sense in terms of value and colour and shape, youre on the right path.

i can kinda show this with a warmup in-class speedpaint exercise we did a couple weeks ago where we were tasked with painting an eye in about 30 minutes (i was late and only had 20 lol)

luckily ive got the layers for this. i start of with a base layer, kind of like a underpaint layer since that's how i personally learned to paint traditionally. i did have a sketch before laying down this base layer under it but i ended up using it for final rendering details lol

after that i started laying down the big blocks of colour. i wasn't necessarily aiming for complete colour accuracy here, i just wanted to match the value. i chose a pink underlayer to influence my colour choices because the underlayer will peak through the blocks of colour i paint over it

and then (forgive me if this seems like "draw the rest of the owl" in terms of progression) but this is where i started going in with finer detail. i did the rest of the render on the sketch layer i had so you can see some of the lines from the sketch here

here's the layers completely seperate from each other

even for the flat colour version of my character, i had an underpaint layer! i used yellow and orange since i wanted her colours to be warm and used a semi-opaque brush to put her colours in rather than using a completely opaque brush

when i wanted to do the painted version, i put the lineart on multiply and reduced the opacity and brushed in some some quick shadows on seperate layer on hard light mode to give me a good base to start painting with

and then i did all the rendering and details on a new layer ontop of everything. i keep the lineart light so i can paint over it easily and also colour pick from it when i want a more distinct line to seperate certain shapes. i unfortunately dont know how to explain this part because a lot of this is intuitive to me and i'm still learning. but you gotta make use of different types of "edges" in painting, and you would generally have more contrast in the focal point of your painting than in other places to draw the eye to that point. i suggest researching the use of edges in painting if you really wanna learn more - because im a terrible teacher haha

for fun here's what the rendering layer for this one looks like on its own and the finished thing for comparison

there's other things you need to learn too, like bounce light, atmospheric perspective, ambient occlusion... and colour theory is always important! i could go on for a long time. there's a lot of pieces to the puzzle and it may seem overwhelming but there's tons of resources online and it will all become second nature to you as you keep practicing

uhh hope that helps!

[willowlevulett]

I have no idea if I'll finish this but here's a little drabble that's been in my drafts for weeks.

-

The freezing air nips painfully at his bare arms as Jayce slides his balcony door closed, his lighter heavy in his hand.

"I would suggest you review and give the board alternative suppliers or materials by Monday. You would do well to remember why we all do this, Jayce"

He sighs, sinking into the frost covered cushion of a rickety lounge chair. He breathes through the ache of the cold, through the panic that still prickled up his spine even after all these years. It was a game he played. It was dumb and he kept his mouth shut about it. How long could he last in the cold before his nervous system became convinced he was freezing to death all over again. The answer everytime was not long. He slides his jacket roughly over his shoulders.

He was a weak man after all.

"I would strongly suggest you leave, Jayce"

His name has been tossed around quite frequently as of late. It felt nowadays more common than not that someone knew his name before he had a chance to say it. How odd of an existence, your own name ripped from your mouth before you have a chance to form it. This, too, was dumb. He knew that. Many people begged and pleaded for his very privileged, cushy life. Hell, when he was young and bright-eyed, he gazed up at the faces of the titans of industry and progress and hoped beyond hope that he would join them one day.

Well, here he was. The life he clawed and prayed for. And he was smoking on his balcony because of it. A shameful habit, this he also knew. Jayce could name a million other things he'd rather tell his mother than the small fact that he smoked. He'd rather look her in the eye and say he had a praise kink before he let her even got a whiff of smoke on his clothes.

The click of the lighter was a comfort. The warmth of the smoke in his mouth was like an old kiss. The cigarette balanced between his fingers was grounding. All of it was very simple. He could explain why he smoked. He knew why. The scientific and biological explanation shoved violently to the wayside. No, it wasn't the inherent addictive properties of nicotine, though he wouldn't deny that is a huge part of it. The reason he would say with a guilty, teeth barring smile is that he feels like himself when he's doing it.

So many of his choices in life have been reckless. He broke his arm at the ripe age of 9 because he figured out how to open the second story window and had always wanted to see the stars on the roof. He crashed his first car while trying to go back roading with his first boyfriend tucked in the front seat. He has a scar that snakes across the entirety of his back that he got into a bar fight when he was freshly 19 and snuck into a seedy bar with a friend he doesn't even remember the name of now.

Professionally, it has been no different. When his work at upper grad became increasingly worrying to his professors, they banned him from continuing his research into renewable energy in his school lab. Explosion risks were cited, but mostly, it was the risk of their oil grants being threatened by the continuation of the testing he was doing. Well, they weren't wrong about the explosion risks. The shrapnel that caught him in the right rib speaks to this all too well. The doctors said they couldn't remove it all and would only try in the future if it migrates too close to his lung. Jayce runs his hand over his rib cage and almost feels like he can feel it. A piece of his own invention nestled safety inside. He takes a long drag and thinks of the man who helped him bring it past that violate point and into something real. Something useful. Not just reckless.

Viktor. Sharp lines, sharp wit, sharp words, and sharp golden eyes. Viktor slid into his life with the grace and finesse of an assassin's knife. The wound he cut was clean, healed well, and could've been deadly if he so chose.

He was not reckless. He was calculating to a fault. The perfect pairing to a perpetual fuck up of an engineer that is Jayce Talis.

Jayce slips his hand under his shirt, pressing his chilled fingertips to the scars that litter his skin. He feels himself take a long shuddering breath.

No, no, let's not think about it, he begs himself. But like with all things, Jayce never listens.

Viktor, as beautiful as light shining through a shard of glass, had held his jaw in a vice grip last night. Jayce, as smooth as a train wreck, had gasped and sputtered an apology before he even registered what might be wrong. He was always making mistakes with Viktor. Drinking three too many beers at the mans apartment surely resulted in at least one.

Viktor had simply stared at him for a moment before releasing his jaw like one would release a bird back to the wild. With a flick of his fingers and a pushing forward motion that seemed to suggest to Jayce that he should flee out the window.

"I'm sorry. What was it? Am..am I too drunk? I've been drunker with you. I don't-I don't understand. Vik-"

"Jayce." His name. Always his name. Viktor always says it like it's made of honey. Jayce wants him to drip it on his tongue.

"What you just said." Oh lord, what he said. Jayce crumbles in on himself, one hand still clutching the burning cigarette, the other wrapped around his ribs.

"You just said," the specter of Viktor in his head continued, "that I am the most beautiful thing you've ever seen."

And Jayce had. They were discussing the stained glass of the cathedral they had passed on their work trip to England. It had been breathingly gorgeous when they decided it was worth the detour and went inside. The colors played like giddy children across the stonework floor. The high ceilings held the ribs of gorgeously carved wooden beams. But despite all that, Jayce found himself looking at how the light played in Viktor's hair. How his pupils dilated. How he licked his lips before he started to ramble about 18th century philosophy.

He was the most beautiful thing Jayce has ever seen. He shouldn't have said it. Viktor was not reckless. Starting a relationship between them was everything Jayce was and Viktor wasn't. He was no fool, Jayce knew enough about himself to know he was far too open with his emotions for Viktor to not at least have a guess that he habored more than work appropriate feelings for the other man. They had been working together three years now and he still couldn't figure out if Viktor returned those feelings. After last night, Jayce thinks with a bitter, painful swallow, he got his answer.

The answer was no.

No. Oh gods, it was no.

Jayce was hopelessly head over heels in love with him and Viktor's answer was no. Jayce, ever the fool, had taken one more risk and had gently set his hand on the side of the other mans neck. He had felt the rabbiting pusle of him, could feel how soft the skin was. He had touched him here before. All casual and never in this intimate manner where his palm pressed against the column of his throat. It was heaven, it was the cold depths of hell. Something in his face must've showed how much he felt for Viktor. It must've betrayed him like it always does. Too expressive, everyone always told him. And Viktor told him to leave. So, he did.

He had a painfully awkward progress report with their investment board earlier this afternoon. Viktor rarely ever showed up to those, but his absence ached worse than the hangover anyway. It went horribly. The board wasn't happy with the cost of materials and was demanding they either rework what metal they are using in the generators or bring the cost down in other ways. Jayce wasn't looking forward to bringing this all to his partner tomorrow.

He lights another cigarette, finally uncurling his fingers from where his nails have bitten half moons into the skin.

"Those will kill you."

Jayce startles, his chair clattering backwards, knocking his ash tray clear across the balcony. A string of curses tumble from his mouth as he whips to lock eyes with none other than the ghost who's been haunting him all day.

Viktor has one hand curled around the open balcony door and the other on his cane. How Jayce didn't hear the door slide open or the click of his cane, well, he'd rather be embarrassed about one thing at a time.

"Hey." It was meant to sound casual, but it comes out sounding absolutely wrecked. His throat suddenly hoarse, his voice thick. He clears it and tries again.

"Hey, buddy! I was just going shoot off a text that we'll need to meet in the morning. Lots of demands from the board. You know how it is." Too much. It was too cheery and over the top. Jayce grimaces and drops his head into his smoke wreathed hands. Hiding, a cowards move. God, could this be any worse.

"Can I sit?" No. Yes. Always. Please leave and let me suffer alone.

"Of course."

[winters-on-the-wing]

hmm, well, you're one to talk about letting people like what they like when you're going batshit on me about a post that does not mention jegulus anywhere. do you see me saying a single word about james? the only two names i mention at all in the post are regulus and umbridge.

so what the hell does that have to do with jegulus?

answer: nothing. but YOU can't handle your precious little fascist white boy being shipped with anybody but james, so you got on my blog and chose to scroll to my post that's just talking about a ship i like, and then hating on me just for talking about kittywater, a ship i happen to like! you're the one that's shitting on me for no reason! you're the one that needs to let people like what they like!

also, let me say a few things based on what you've written.

the other two things we know about regulus in canon, the things that jegulus stans love to purposefully ignore, are that he had a voldemort shrine in his bedroom, and that he got the dark mark by choice when not even his parents had it. regulus adored voldemort. and it doesn't matter that he changed his mind. he still helped voldemort kill thousands of people out of sheer hatred for a minority group that did nothing wrong. he's still a racist and a fascist. and he didn't even die for those oppressed people. he got upset about voldemort's wrongs only when it affected HIMSELF. HIS slave. so yeah, i'm gonna go ahead and say that regulus is not a good guy. sorry? but i actually read the books.

there are so many more differences between jegulus and jily than the queerness. first of all, regulus is an active oppressor of the minority groups in this universe, while lily is a member of said minority group. second of all, regulus has no personality in the books while lily has a beautiful, complex, well-sculpted personality. your fanon little wet cat doesn't count.

and the most important one. there is NOTHING about lily and regulus' family/sibling situation that is REMOTELY similar. if anything, they have opposite situations. you are not actually comparing sirius to petunia?? let's do a little review of their situations, shall we? sirius was being abused by his parents due to his disagreeing with their blood supremacist views, and as a result, he ran away for his own safety and peace of mind. regulus could have left with sirius at any time, but regulus CHOSE to stay with his parents and become the new heir. regulus CHOSE to become a death eater even though the black family was not affiliated with voldemort whatsoever. now, lily was the favorite child of her family, and this became especially blatant when she found out she was a witch and petunia wasn't. petunia was so overwroght with jealousy that she made lily's life a living hell, to the point where lily had to completely abandon the muggle world for the wizarding world. when looking at these two stories side by side, you can see that regulus isn't similar to lily at all. regulus is similar to PETUNIA. :) so if by similar, you mean that regulus is similar to lily's abuser, then you're right there! but other than that? i think you're just delusional.

guys regulus and umbridge are so perfect for each other

they’re both evil little shits who like to pretend that they’re the heroes of the story and the victims of their situations even though every awful thing they did was a conscious choice! they’re made for each other!!

[0aurelion-sol0]

My Arcane Season 2 criticisms:

Things I actually disliked:

How the Hextech plot turned out, I though it was very badly executed especially in terms of Viktor's evolution through the whole show. Lack of proper explanation about what was actually happening, unnecessary and horribly executed twist at the end, clumsy established rules and dissapointing payoff for anyone involved in this plotline. Final battle was cool and I like the Commune's designs but dear god, was this storyline confusing...

Ekko's community plus the tree's state at the end of the show. You really couldn't put a 15 seconds shot of the community being well and tree being ok ?! Seriously I know you had to make choices given it's animation but come on now... It was like one of the main driving points to stop Hextech for him & one of the safe haven of Zaun & Piltover and it's completely shoved to the side but no, we have to see minutes of Loris, Steb and Sky being there just being a representation of our characters' inner conflicts as if them doing it and/or saying it out loud wasn't enough...

Ekko convincing Jinx to not kill herself by telling her what he experienced, Jinx rallying the undercity to protect Piltover & Zaun from Noxus & Viktor and a proper conclusion to Sevika's story regarding all of this. WHAT THE HELL ?! We needed to see this, this is so important & it's completely ignored. IN WHAT world, did anyone think cutting this was a good idea ?! We needed to get a proper closure & development about Ekko & Jinx's relationship which was already thin to begin with. We needed to see Sevika affirm what she truly thought about Jinx and a moment about Isha regarding the two of them even if Sevika wasn't super close to the kid, we needed to see Sevika get to see the Undercity finally rallied together after spending the ENTIRETY of the show trying to do that and see how that whole thing came about for them to fight with Piltover. It is ridiculous to that me that this was cut... It was so important!

Things I didn't necessarily dislike but I have mixed feelings about:

Jayce not getting a single scene with his mom. I know she was there at the end, in the crowd, mourning him but come on, not even one scene with her before the end where she could allow him a form of reflection and comfort before putting his life in danger or after, I don't know... DISSAPEARING FOR WEEKS IF NOT MONTHS! I know you could interpret it as Jayce being so lost on his mission that he forgets about her and her importance but she was one of the reasons they ended up in Piltover in the first place. It's of course not as vital to the story but it could have provided some breathing in this fast-paced season.

Vi's character arc this season. While there are some part that I like, I feel like it wasn't explored as deeply & as fully as it could have been. The foundations are there but aspects like her relationship with Vander, violence and Zaun could have been pushed far more than they were in this season.

Caitlyn's arc and how the most important bit happened off-screen, again, just like with Vi, the parts it would have been better to see or being more developped weren't as much as they could've been. I am not of the conclusion she didn't face any consequences or was let go by the narrative of the things she did. But her coming to terms with her actions happened mostly off-screen and that is a shame because it was one of the more interesting parts of Season 2.

Singed's characterization. Now I understand why he was developed the way he is, in terms of what he represents for Caitlyn and for the show, but I don't think it was as compelling to me to have him be yet another parallel for the themes of the show or being a reminder of them was completely necessary for me. We got it the other times, I understand why, it had it's purpose; I just prefer how evil Singed was in the original lore & the story he had back then. I understand humanizing antagonists & reinforcing the theme of your story but sometimes it's nice having an element that's a bit of an outlier and explore other themes to give some variety to the story.

[whoops-all-jennas]

Final Duet pt 4. - c.s.

Cairo Sweet x fem!reader

"My thoughts will follow you into your dreams."

Summary: Winnie checks in on Cairo, where she finally answers after a year of isolation.

a/n: Inspired by Omori, if you haven't played it, do. The story is beautiful. There will be no spoilers in this so don't worry about that :)

Warnings - Bullying, Homophobia, Death

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

The hot summer sun bakes my skin as I pour a watering can over my white egret orchids. I take a moment to admire the wing-shaped flowers before putting my watering can away.

It has now been over a year since we missed our recital, gardening is one of the few things I have where I feel close to you again.

This past year I've been isolative, lonely by choice. I know it isn't healthy, but discovering your premature death had a strong impact on me.

It doesn't help that, even now, my parents are never home to raise their child.

When I enter my house, I hear a knock at the front door. I see Winnie's silhouette past the glass. My eyes are lost at the door, deciding if I should answer it or lock myself away in my room once again.

I turn the knob, opening the door to reveal Winnie on the other side.

"You actually answered." Winnie looks at me, shocked. "I was, just wanting to check on you, maybe go out and do something."

Winnie has been trying to get in touch with me ever since your funeral. I've been evading her attempts, I know it's mean, but I just wanted to be alone.

"I guess." I say, in a low tone. I know I need to get over your passing, but locking myself away isn't going to help.

"I wasn't expecting you to answer, I didn't really have any plans." Winnie stands, pondering ideas, while my mind stays blank.

There is something I want to do, but it's not exactly a fun group activity. "Can we visit Y/n's resting place? I haven't been there in a long time."

While of course, your tombstone brings me closer to you, I just see it as a reminder of what I lost. I feel mean for never visiting, but I just couldn't.

"That's fine, it's a nice first step." Winnie says with a patient smile, the same type of smile you'd always give me during practice. You were always so kind and patient with me, even during what I imagine to be the tedious process of teaching someone a new instrument from scratch.

"I'll be back." I say, turning to walk to my back yard. I open the door, approaching the orchids that I've put all my love and time into that I wished I could've spent with you. I pick a few of them, making a small bouquet of your favorite flower.

Winnie and I are walking on the side of the road, the wing-shaped flowers flowing in the breeze.

"Did you grow those?" Winnie asks as I find her eyes before looking at the bouquet.

"I did, they were Y/n's favorite." I say, numbly.

She stares at the flowers. "It looks like you did a wonderful job, Y/n would be proud."

My throat closes for a moment, it has been awhile since I heard anyone utter your name. I open my mouth to speak, but no sounds come out. I opt to replying with a mere nod.

I approach your grave with Winnie staying by the cemetery entrance, white egret orchids whole and hearty surround your tombstone.

I stare at your memorial, forgetting I planted those seeds a year ago. It's a miracle that such a delicate and needy flower as been able to even sprout on its own.

I place the bouquet in front of your tombstone, the flowers flowing delicately in the wind.

"Cairo?" I hear a masculine voice behind me, causing me to turn around. I'm met with one of your two bullies, hulling a small wagon with gardening supplies.

I stare quietly, unsure what to do. He grabs a full watering can, approaching the grave before he waters the flowers.

"These were Y/n's favorite." He says, taking a moment to look at the bouquet I left. "But it seems you already knew that."

He smiles at the small patch of flowers that decorate your tombstone. "I've managed to forgive myself for what I've done, managing to find peace with Y/n's death."

He turns, facing me. "Yet you, you have nothing to be forgiven of, but you still let the weight of her passing pull you down. Why is that?"

For the first time in a year, anger bubbles past my numb surface. "You forgave yourself? After everything you've done to her that is not your responsibility."

He looks away for a moment. "I don't mean how I treated her. I'll never be able to forgive myself for that."

I find myself lost in my emotions. "What do you mean then?"

He looks at me, shocked. "Do you really not know?"

"Not know what?" I ask, now more confused than anything else.

He goes silent for a moment, his throat restricting his voice. "Y/n didn't just trip and fall down the stairs..."

He slips through the backyard, sneaking into your house through the backdoor. His footsteps fill the empty, dark house as he navigates up the stairs.

The door to your room opens as he twists the knob, quickly searching all the bookshelves to find your book of memories. He hears the front door open as he pulls it off the shelf, leaving the room as fast as possible.

He heads towards the stairs, you halfway up them. "What're you doing in my house?!"

He took a step back, shocked to find you here. "Taking back what's ours."

You quickly ascend the stairs, anger in step. "Yours?! I made that! You abandoned me!"

"Abigail said you threw it away one night before she gave it back to your mom!" He shouts. "You don't deserve it!"

You grab the book, trying to yank it out of his hands. "You think you deserve it?! Please! As if your homophobic ass does!"

He resists, pulling back on the book. "Let go, Y/n!"

"No!" You continue pulling as sweat builds under your palms.

Your grip slips, causing you to fall backwards, your body tumbling down the stairs. The loud thunks of your body hitting the steps fill the silence of the house until you land on your head at the bottom, your neck contorting to the pressure.

He stood there shocked, looming over your body from the top of the stairs.

Suddenly, a loud knocking is heard at the front door. He pulls himself together, quickly descending the stairs, leaving through the back.

"I turned myself in a month after her funeral." He says, staring at the ground, guilt squirming through his body. "I couldn't stay silent anymore, the guilt of what I did was destroying me."

I stand there silently, feeling numb to the truth just like how I felt the past year to your passing. I turn around, taking my first few steps to leave.

"Wait, Cairo." I stop in place to his voice. "Do you think I deserve forgiveness?"

Even though he says he's forgiven himself, it's clear he hasn't. The guilt of your death eating him from the inside out.

"I don't believe I'm in the mental state to answer." I respond, truthfully.

I walk back to the entrance, thinking about his words.

'Yet you, you have nothing to be forgiven of, but you still let the weight of her passing pull you down. Why is that?'

I find Winnie by the entrance. "I know something else I'd like to do, if that's okay."

My violin case rests over my shoulder, the dust from lack of use falling onto the street with each step. For the first time in a year, I hum that familiar tune you loved so much as we approach the school.

The sun is beginning to set beyond the horizon, finding the rays of golden hour nostalgic to your presence.

We walk through the back entrance, closest to the music room. The silence of the hall deafening as we approach the forgotten room, it's as if I can still hear you playing piano, muffled through the wall.

Winnie opens the door, revealing a dark room before flipping the lights. The same fluorescent light in the corner flickering.

The room looks more abandoned than before without you maintaining it, cobwebs and dust litter the room.

"Is it okay if I'm here alone for a minute?" I ask, quietly.

Winnie nods, giving me a patient smile.

I approach a music stand, setting it up to be able to be read from standing. The zipper of my violin case tears through the silence of the room, finding the picture we took on the first snowfall of January. You have the widest, happiest smile while my face is flushed red, looking away from the camera.

For the first time in a year, a smile finds my face as I reminisce.

I take the sheet music out of the case, placing it on the music stand. I stare at the blank space where a title should be, noticing small writing in blue pen at the top of the page in your handwriting.

why don't you think of a title for me? you read a lot, you must know plenty of words

I stare at the words for a moment, seeing merely your handwriting having a clear effect on me. I grab my violin, admiring the flowers engraved in the glossy wood before I check the tuning of the strings.

I tighten the bow and apply the resin, before doing the warm up exercises you taught me.

My eyes find the sheet music, hesitating for a moment as I take a deep breath.

I close my eyes, feeling your presence behind me, sitting in front of a glossy black piano. I'm standing on a stage, facing a small audience I can't see through a spotlight being cast over me.

The beginning notes of a piano fill the stage, your fingers gliding over the keys. The notes descend from it's initial high notes until it reaches a deep, low note. You transition the notes back up an octave, finding the middle of the piano.

The last note is followed by a chord as the tempo increases slightly, creating a bright atmosphere.

I slide my bow across the strings of the violin, the note stretching across the concert hall.

As I play, I can't help but reminisce on all the times I spent with you. The hours we spent in the music room, your patient smile guiding me calmly as you teach me the instrument I'm performing now.

I remember your tears the first night we stayed at my house, staining my clothes the same way you pleasantly stain my memories. My arms lulling you to sleep as I hold you comfortingly.

I feel the cold on my hands as I roll a snowball on the ground near you, making the biggest snowman I have, or will ever make. After we had a little snowball fight we warmed up by the fire. There's hardly a better feeling than thawing out after a cold day, but doing it with you is the true experience.

My legs find the red and white quilt on the soft grass as you place a flower crown over my head. This was the day you gave me the violin I'm playing. I will never forget the excitement on your gleeful face when you revealed the recital we were performing at.

That flower crown you gave me resides above my bed, wilted, but the memories still intact.

I see the blank audience once again, the experience I'm living that never happened. I draw out the final note of the song, feeling your presence fading behind me. A bare piano lies in your place, yet still warm by the idea of you.

I open my eyes, the complete song branding into my memory for the first and last time. I'll never get to hear the complete song again, as I will follow your wish of it being our song that no one else will perform.

The abandoned music room settles around me, clashing with the clean and well-lit stage I was imagining. It feels as if a weight was lifted off my chest, even if your presence will fade, the memories will not, and I won't let my grieving tarnish my happy ones.

I find a blue pen, drawing it to the blank space. There's only one thing I can think of that suites your masterpiece, albeit a long title.

My Thoughts Will Follow You Into Your Dreams

a/n: The song that's linked in all parts is the song you made in the story.

[dragqueenstarscream]

I have a fic request: Optimus helping Starscream with his polishing.

good as new

tfone starscream x optimus prime

contains: developing relationship, secret relationship, polishing, wing kink, allusions to interface

"i like what you've done with the place."

optimus merely hummed in reply as he examined the bottles of polish sitting on the shelves in the private washrack. it seemed that sentinel prime's reputation for excess extended to his personal life as well. optimus couldn't even begin to imagine caring for his finish with cheaper polish when he was still cogless. that luxury simply didn't exist to him.

truth be told, optimus didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. this had all started when starscream somehow managed to break into iacon tower with information about an attack megatron had planned. why starscream would want to betray megatron was beyond optimus, but regardless, the two had continued to meet in secret, with starscream always providing optimus with some crucial information. eventually, the two had formed something of a relationship, though whether that was platonic, romantic, or something else entirely was unclear to optimus as of now.

tonight wasn't a night to discuss megatron's next move or where the quintessons might be heading. optimus had invited starscream to iacon tower - under the cover of night, of course, as tongues would wag if it got out that optimus was bringing a decepticon into his own home - simply to be with him. he'd thrown out the idea of offering to polish starscream, knowing that the seeker valued his appearance. starscream had latched onto the idea instantly, which led to where they were now, in the primes' private washrack. optimus told himself that this was just him trying to extend a peace offering to megatron's second in command in exchange for more information, but he knew in his spark that it wasn't the case.

"getting rid of those obnoxious statues was a nice touch," starscream said, bringing optimus back to the present. "how long did it take you to melt those down to scrap?"

"most of them were destroyed when we fought to free you guys," optimus said. "taking the rest down was just part of the renovation."

he finally settled on a bottle of polish and made his way over to the bench where starscream sat. the former high guard bot raised an eyebrow, then relaxed when he saw the polish optimus had chosen.

"good choice," he said as optimus sat behind him. "you know how to use that stuff?"

"i think so," optimus said. "i haven't done this before, but it can't be too hard."

"what do you mean, you..." starscream's voice trailed off as the realization struck him. "primus, what did sentinel do to you bots?"

starscream stood up from the bench and started to search around the washrack. "come on," he muttered, "where did that pompous aft keep his... gotcha!"

he returned to the bench with a tool in his servo. optimus felt embarrassed that he didn't know what it was at first.

"know how to use this?" starscream asked. optimus shook his head, and starscream scoffed in disbelief.

"we didn't get much time to ourselves in the mines," optimus admitted. "the most cleaning we got was a trip to the washracks."

"unbelievable," starscream grumbled, rolling his eyes. "here, gimme that."

optimus handed the bottle of polish over to starscream, who opened it up and poured some drops on what looked like a circular pad.

"here, you pour some polish on right here, then you turn it on and work it into my plating," starscream said. "just take your time with it, and don't press too hard."

optimus felt unsure of himself as starscream handed him the polish and the tool. still, he knew that he had to get this right. he wanted to prove to starscream that he could be a kinder bot than the false prime before him. this peace offering would be a good start.

and maybe starscream would actually trust him with more than just information, but optimus didn't want to think about that now.

"this won't be too loud, will it?" optimus asked. "we can't have anyone hearing what's going on and getting too curious.

"that thing?" starscream snorted. "if that's as pricey as i think it is, you won't have to worry about noise. now, quit worrying and get to work."

"if you're sure," optimus sighed as he got himself seated. turning the polisher on, he felt relieved as it only made a low hum, not enough to grab the attention of anyone walking by.

now that he thought about it, he didn't know where to start. he didn't want to start polishing in an awkward spot and hurt starscream by accident. after a moment's thought, he settled on starscream's wings. they were broad, flat, and made a good surface to test the polisher on. taking a deep invent, optimus leaned forward and began to polish starscream's left wing.

the reaction he got wasn't what he expected at all. starscream's whole body shuddered, and he let out a long, shameless moan that had optimus blushing. he quickly pulled the polisher back, afraid that he'd accidentally violated a major boundary.

"hey, what the-?!" starscream sputtered and turned to face optimus.

"sorry," optimus said rather quickly. "i just didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything."

"hey, no no no!" starscream scolded him. "i'll tell you if you're crossing a line, prime, but that felt good. go back to doing that!"

"alright, if you're sure," optimus said. starscream huffed and turned back around. optimus took that as his cue and returned to polishing starscream's left wing.

the smaller bot relaxed completely under optimus' touch. he leaned back towards optimus, engine purring. occasionally, he would tell optimus to lighten up on the pressure, but for the most part, he had no complaints. optimus knew by now that that was as close to a thank you as he would get out of starscream.

as optimus moved from the tip of starscream's wing inward, he noticed a shift in starscream's behavior. the closer he got to starscream's wing hinge, the louder starscream's engine revved. when optimus polished the base of starscream's wing, the smaller bot flexed his digits, clenching and unclenching his fist, and he let out an unusually soft sigh. it sounded bizarre coming out of someone with such a normally abrasive voice, but optimus found, to his embarrassment, that he wanted to hear it again.

"you know," starscream said, speaking up for the first time in a while, "it's a shame you were a miner before you became a prime. you would've made a killing doing this."

"i'll take that as a compliment," optimus said with an awkward smile.

once optimus was certain that he'd polished starscream's left wing until it sparkled, he moved to starscream's right wing, a bit more confident this time. starscream kept purring as optimus polished him, his optics closed, intake hanging open. optimus would've been lying to himself if he said that he didn't find starscream attractive like this, not angry and barking orders, but rather relaxed and at ease.

"i'll have to keep coming back to you for this," starscream said. optimus felt a flicker of hope in his spark. he quite enjoyed the prospect of seeing starscream more often.

again, optimus moved the polisher closer and closer to the base of starscream's wing. once he reached the hinge, starscream let his head roll back, eyes half lidded, looking almost delirious.

"better be careful with that, prime," he smirked. "don't go leading a mech on."

"what do you mean?" optimus asked, despite having a guess what starscream was talking about.

"you keep touching my wings like that," starscream purred, "and i might think you're coming onto me."

optimus didn't believe that he had the gumption to say what was on his mind, but he kept a straight face and simply said, "maybe i am."

this only made starscream's smirk grow into a dangerous grin. despite having never seen it before, optimus knew what that look meant.

once optimus had finished the right wing, he turned the polisher off and asked, "how do you feel?"

starscream flexed his wings, a self satisfied smile on his face. "not bad, prime," he said. "for your first time, not bad."

optimus tried to sound more sure of himself than he felt. "glad to hear it. now, where else do-"

"optimus," starscream said.

uh oh, optimus thought. full name.

"yes?" he asked. to his surprise, starscream reached one arm back, grabbed the back of optimus' helm, and pulled him in for a kiss. it was awkward at first, as optimus nearly knocked his forehelm into starscream's chin, but once he let himself lean into it, he realized just what was happening.

starscream was actually kissing him.

and optimus enjoyed it.

it only lasted for a few moments before starscream let go, but optimus wished that it had lasted longer.

"keep that up," starscream grinned, "and you might get a little more than that."

"just a little?" optimus said jokingly.

"i'm willing to negotiate," starscream chuckled as he turned around on the bench, now straddling it and facing optimus.

"now," the seeker purred, fluttering his wings enticingly. "other side."

optimus knew where the night was going, and for once, he was willing to let starscream take full control.

turning on the polisher once more, optimus leaned in and began working on starscream's left wing.

[fallendev0tionvn]

hihi, just wanted to say i loved the demo (and clive) !! the game is so intriguing i scoured your entire account for more information on him (kinda stalkerish of me, sorry ^^;;) but i'm so curious about him!! I'll try to keep things brief though lol... no.1 - i think you mentioned this either in-game or in an ask, but since clive comes from a foster home/ Italian educational center (? not sure how to word this 😭😭) does this mean the story takes place in italy/clive's canonically Italian? no.2 - does he have any comfort foods/dishes? (I'll learn them if so 🙏🙏) no.3 - will he replace the stuffed animal i cuddle at night???? (clive plz say yes i'm begging) your game is coming along so beautifully and i hope you take care of yourself !! art takes time so please don't rush yourself!! wishing you all the best 💗💗

THANK YOU SO SO MUCH!! I'm really glad you're enjoying the demo!

The story actually takes places in any country of your choice. I only included school systems I'm familiar with- mainly the italian school system and how educational communities work, since they can be pretty traumatizing if you end up with a bad team. As for where Clive is actually from(?)- I decided to leave that blank, even for him. His real parents are...pretty messed up, mostly his mom, since his dad left. I didn't want his origins to feel tied to that situation in a negative way, because I would never want to imply anything like that. But I'll admit I do like using random country flag generators for my ocs as a way to research and learn about different cultures (🤓 behavior), and the first result I got for Clive was Poland. So, he was originally meant to be Polish! if that doesn't make anyone uncomfortable, I'll leave it that way.

Clive loves sweets! especially anything strawberry flavored. Just picture this huge, intimidating guy at the gym with his pink strawberry flavored protein shake JAJSKA. If you bake him anything with strawberries, he's basically marrying you (not that he wasn't already, JK).

his honest reaction: (he's your plushie now)

[drachenkinder]

The Black Sabbath Incident

So back in the Dark Ages, aka the Seventies. I was around 15 and went to my very first rock concert. Black Sabbath. I was going with my boyfriend of the time and his friend, who had stood in line all night to buy tickets. (Aisle seats, thirteenth rows back from the stage.)

Needless to say said friend, who I will call John from now on, was a huge fan of Black Sabbath. He was also a huge guy, about 6'3" and though only 16 he had a full beard and was covered with more body hair then any man I have seen before or since.

John was determined to film part of the concert. A thing forbidden by the concert people. You weren't even allowed to take pictures. Now remember, there are no cell phones, no digital cameras and the smallest still camera was still too big to hide in your pocket. You had to open your coat or jacket and do a 360 turn as the security people checked you out, before they let you in. Any cameras found were confiscated. However John also like to build model rockets and launch them up into the atmosphere. He'd bought a motion picture camera just for the purpose of filming in flight.

This bad boy. About two inches in diameter and 8 inches long without the nose cone. True it could only take 20 seconds of slightly out of focus film, but it was better then nothing. He had this beast in his coat pocket as we entered the lobby, but on seeing the security people going though coats and jackets he slips it into the front of his whitey-tighties.

The boyfriend and I go through the quick visual search, and turn around to see if John is going to make it past the security woman or get hauled out of line.

Now remember this was the nineteen seventies and tight jeans were de rigueur for teens. John spreads open his coat to get the looking over. The previously bored woman looks down and is confronted with this massive bulge in the front of this huge bearded teenage boy's pants. As if that wasn't bad enough, the camera suddenly turns on and it starts shifting in his underwear making whirring-clicking noises like a steam punk prosthetic penis getting ready for action. She stares frozen in horror at this apparition as it wags back and forth taking what would be A very bad, 20 second X-Rated movie, if there had been any light to expose the film. John is also frozen, wearing the frantic manic grin of man whose pubic hair has been caught in very small machinery and is slowly, but inexorably being pulled out. The camera, having run its full twenty seconds shuts down. The cessation of movement and sound breaks the security woman out of her shock. "Go! Get out of here!" she squeaks, waving John through.

He hobbles painfully past and into the brightly arena arena while the boyfriend and I stagger after him, weaving down the aisle and laughing like a pair of drunken hyenas. Thirtyseven rows later we arrive at our choice seats. John valiantly attempts to fit his 6'3" frame into the narrow seat without bending at the hips, with limited success. He stays stretched out stiff legged, protected on either side by his evil compatriots who take this opportunity to congratulate him on his cinematic masterpiece, while coming up with reviews and advertising blurbs for its eminent debut.

Too shy and embarrassed to reach down his pants and free his pubes, John sits with a grimace of pain on his face until the lights finally go down for the opening band. Under the cover of his coat, it takes him two songs before he is able to extract the camera with a minimum of hair loss and shove it back in his pocket. His grandkids have been told the story by some vile and treacherous person who I will refrain from naming, and I have hopes they will pass "The Black Sabbath Incident" on to their children and grandchildren until it becomes a family legend, possibly outlasting the fame of the band itself. Ozzy Osbourne would be proud.