#except dead author says it is bc

[vaugarde]

finished “yellowface”. goddamn that was a ride… highly highly recommend if you like villain protagonists

[royalberryriku]

Finished reading The Witcher Lady of the Lake and I'm crying screaming throwing up

[chxrryhansen]

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍

Pairing; Dark!Rafe Cameron x Innocent!Reader

Warnings; CNC!!!! DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. smut, extremely dark themes, unprotected sex, public sex, choking, drugging? (rafe manipulates reader into snorting a line) degrading terms (slut, whore) loss of virginity, tiny bit of blood, breeding kink, size difference, daddy kink, dumbification, dacryphillia, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!

Summary; Based on x.

authors note; i really thought about never finishing this because i just haven’t had the motivation or wanted to write in quite a while. but i’ve been neglecting you guys! so i tried my best to finish it, however i literally hate this fic so much so please don’t come at me bc i know its shit😛 its around like 1.3k words so… take it or leave it ig.

“Hey, so uh, you come here often?” The boy says, rubbing his nose with his right finger while motioning with his beer filled hand to the party further down the beach.

Your friend had dragged you to one of the weekend bonfires at the beach, kooks only of course. Which is exactly what you were, a sheltered, spoilt, kook. Right down to the core.

Your family had given you everything you ever wanted growing up, paying for homeschooling from the best private tutor on the island, buying you whatever the new pair of heels on the market was, but that never deterred your sweet heart.

You weren’t a prude and even though you were, you didn’t act spoilt, you appreciated everything your family did for you. You didn’t have many friends considering the private life you lived. Your best friend was your neighbour, both of you having grown up together, your father and hers both being in the same business really tied the strings in your friendship.

She was quite the opposite of you, partying every weekend, hanging out with boys and drinking to the point she was incapable of walking. Long story short, she had begged you to come, a promise of a sleepover and movie night afterwards.

Except that wasn’t the case. Within 15 minutes she had found a new man to latch onto, leaving you sitting by yourself on a wooden log infront of a small campfire someone must’ve ditched.

You looked up, a tall muscular boy with a backwards cap staring down at you, his pretty blues lighting up in the reflection of the fire. You didn’t answer him, being too caught up in the flare of his strong presence. His aura was engulfing, your body instantly being drawn to him.

You didn’t know it of course, but Rafe did.

One look at your pretty face and the sweet scent of your purity and he just knew he had to have it. A smirk appeared on the boys face as he took a seat on the log next to you, his eyes never leaving your own.

“Gonna’ answer me, sweetheart?”

“Uhm, n-no not really, it’s my first. My friends around here somewhere… not sure where she went.” You murmured.

Rafes smirk widened, how blessed he was to have stumbled upon a sweet, innocent, little bunny like you.

“S’okay. I can keep you company. Name’s Rafe.”

The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a little white baggie filled with a powdery substance. Noticing your stare he asks “You want some?”

“What is that stuff?” you mumble, knitting your eyebrows together in confusion.

“This shits the good stuff, s’ like powdered sugar. Gets you feelin’ real good, one line of this and you’ll feel on top of the world, sweetheart.” he smirks moving closer to the point your knees touch, yet his eyes still don’t leave your own.

“C’mere, lay back a little.” and do you do.

Without question.

Which of course stirs Rafe’s dominant instinct, he just cant stop thinking about shoving you onto your knees and fucking your throat til you choke on his fat cock.

But he’ll save that for later.

Rafe proceeds to pour a little powder onto your chest, sitting perfectly above your perky tits. He then reaches into his pocket and picks out a bank card, then using it to create a smooth line on your chest.

He moves in. Snorting the line right off your tits. A tingly feeling appeared in between your thighs. The sensation of his hot breath on your chest making your own increase.

He leans back and looks towards the sky, his curtains framing his face as he does so, lifting a finger and closing a nostril he sniffs deeply, sighing in relief afterwards. “See, easy as that. Your turn, beautiful.”

“M’kay” you shrug.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Rafe shifts on the log, lying down on his back and spreading his lets wide. He repeats the process on his abs, pouring the coke, creating the line and then ushering you forwards.

“Remember. All you gotta’ do is cover one of your nostrils, and use the other to sniff it right up. You got that?”

“Mhm” You nod excitedly.

“Ah ah ah. Use your words.”

“Yes Rafe. I got it.” You whisper, your pretty doe eyes staring up at him.

“Good girl.” He groans as you begin to snort the coke from his abs. His cock is painfully hard which obviously you didn’t notice, his pre cum leaking from his swollen tip, desperate to have your soppy cunt wrapped around it.

Within 5 minutes the drugs had hit you.

Your head was spinning and your control of your own body wavy, your movements restricted.

“I-i feel kinda fuzzy. Don’t like it…think i’m gonna’ go home now.” Rafe debates begging you to stay, but a better plan crosses his mind.

An eery smirk appears across his handsome features. “How about i walk you, s’ not safe for a pretty girl like you to be out in the dark all by yourself.”

The second you’re out of sight from the beach a hand wraps around your mouth, Rafe’s body pressing your own against a tall tree, blocking any escape. Your eyes go wide in fear, tears beginning to well up as you attempt to scream.

Your tears should make him irritated, angry even. But it doesn’t. It only turns him on more. His dick growing harder by the second.

“Shut the fuck up or i-i swear to god i’ll slit your throat. Can’t believe you kept this innocent act up. I can practically smell how soaked you are you fuckin’ slut.”

Before you can even think of screaming you’re cut off by your own wail as Rafe’s cock disappears between your folds. He bottoms out in one harsh thrust, your legs become slack as he grips your hips, holding you upright on his length.

“So fuckin’ tight. Gonna’ fuck you so good you’ll forget your own god damn name.” He growls.

The sound of clapping skin begins to echo, the skin of your ass turning raw due to his brutal thrusts. The tears don’t stop, only beginning to mix with the drool and sweat leaking down your face. Your wails and whimpers turn to moans as your cunt soaks his length.

Rafe knew you were perfect, that’s why he picked you. But this just proved him right.

“Fuckkk. You like that? Who knew you’d be such a dirty whore f’ me.” He chuckles, throwing his head back in ecstasy, yet his thrusts don’t slow. His pace almost animalistic.

The sensation of your pussy clenching tells Rafe what he wanted to know.

Rafe lets out a loud groan. “Jesus. You’re gonna’ fuckin’ cum aren’t you? Getting off on your rapists cock. Ask me. Ask daddy if you can cum.”

His hand wraps around your throat, squeezing tightly as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Please can i cum daddy? I need it s-so bad.” You whine, shifting your hips back and forth, fucking yourself on his shaft, your back still pinned against the tree.

“Cum. Cum for daddy. Holy shitttt, pussys grippin’ me like a fuckin’ vice.”

Your cream coats his cock as you scream, biting your lip harshly to try and muffle your pleasure.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if the whole beach heard that from here you dumb slut.” He groans, lifting a hand to fist your hair, tugging harshly.

His thick cock continues to pummel your insides, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.

As Rafe looks down he notices a glint of red at the base of his shaft. The sight of your cream and blood alone brings him closer to the edge.

“Gonna’ cum in this pretty cunt, can’t wait to fill you up, baby. Daddy’s gonna’ cum.”

His release is met with a loud growl, his balls throbbing as his load fills you, thick ropes of his hot cum shoot into your pussy.

“That’s ittttt. fuck. Taking my cum like such a good girl.”

Rafe is slow to pull out, inching you off his cock as he pants trying to catch his breath. His hold however never leaves you, ensuring you don’t fall due to the brutal fucking you just received.

His attention is grabbed at the sound of your sobs, his thumb swiping over your cheek and collecting your tears. His pretty blues stare into your own, almost waiting for you to run.

But you don’t.

“Shh Shh Shh. No more tears. Daddy’s gonna’ take care of you from now on.”

[wtfsteveharrington]

after midnight pt 2 | carmen berzatto x reader

summary: you leave a surprise for carmen at work that lets him know he's been caught watching your content & the aftermath that follows. she/her pronouns used!

contents: perv!carmy, mentions of anxiety, mentions of filming sex tapes, dirty talk, fingering, hand job, oral f receiving, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, doesn't pull out (sorry he's possessive idk what to say). he also has this lil god complex over your other subscribers

word count: 4,587k

author notes: i had to cut a lil out bc otherwise this was getting lllooonngg. thank you for all the love on part one & i hope you enjoy this one too!! <33

part one

Carmen wonders what you think of this mysterious new account that keeps donating to you. Sending you small gifts. It's nothing too large - He's not trying to put himself into debt by any means. But it is his way of cosmically balancing the scale of viewing your content without you knowing.

Sometimes he lets his mind wonder and entertains the idea of filming with you. Letting all these losers who sit alone at night watching you get a glimpse of how good he could treat you. Your knees over his shoulders as he folds you in half, harsh and rough strokes pounding in and out of you. Sometimes you get smart with him - It's the nature of the kitchen. He thinks about you in that position whenever you pop off with some snarky remark. Pinned under him, two fingers in your mouth. "Put that pretty mouth to use for me. There you go, Baby." His fingers sliding in further, causing you to gag around them but you reach up to hold his wrist in place to let you know you're good. 

He’d fuck you until you can’t think straight, a moaning mess against his fingers as you’re reduced to coming around his cock with no warning. Orgasm shaking through your body and Carmen would just keep fucking into your sensitive body until he can’t take it anymore.

This becomes his new morning routine. Waking up 20 minutes earlier than he really needs to because he just knows he’ll be hard from dreams of you. It’s a bit of an obsession at this point in all honesty but he can’t help himself. He pictures you laid out against his bed sheets, sleepy and grabbing at any inch of him that you can. You’d just be able to relax and get fucked well to start the morning, he’d do all the work for the two of you. 

Any mental space not occupied by the restaurant is fully dedicated to you. 

———★–————————–

Carmen’s barely awake when he walks into the restaurant. His eyes still feel so heavy and there's a level of exhaustion that he just can't seem to shake in his bones. He's grunting acknowledgment at the team, doing a double take as he catches you grinning wickedly at the board in front of you. There’s a familiar pang of jealousy - What’s got you so entertained this year? He scoffs at his imaginary man he’s made up that’s vying for your attention as he heads into the office to work on this week’s orders. 

Except he’s stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of lingerie he just sent you last week folded neatly in the center of the desk. His heart drops to the bottom pit of his stomach as he steps closer and sees a packing order next to the set - His name and address under the billing information circled in a bright neon pink Sharpie. Carmen knows for a fact that he double, triple checked that this was supposed to be a gift and for his information to be excluded so what the fuck happened? 

He’s throwing his jacket over the desk just in case someone walks in before he can take care of this situation but he’s got to get a handle on you first. He’s embarrassed at getting caught. Imagining you must think the worst of him. Trying to justify it by at least he was sending you stuff, right? Cotton boy shorts he thought you’d look so delicate in and lacy pieces of barely there bodysuits he wanted to rip apart and leave stained with his cum. 

He's storming over to you now, ignoring the way Richie called out his name to join him for a smoke break. You hear him mutter out a "Okay then, Cousin. I'll just go fuck myself." That Carmen doesn't even acknowledge. All his attention fully focused on you. His words are coming off harsh as his body tries to process all the different emotions coursing through his veins.

"We gotta fuckin' talk."

The words hang heavy in the air and you find yourself entertained with how assertive he’s being. 

“Why’s that?” You’re looking up at him doe-eyed and innocent. There’s anxiety practically rolling off of Carmy’s body and you’re gonna get to soothing him in a minute but you’re letting him sweat it out first. You didn’t mind that he saw your videos but you were a little pissed he didn’t bring it up. Half because you could have been putting him knowing to use, half because it did feel a little taboo for your boss to be trying to anonymously send you lingerie. 

“Nah, don’t play that shit right now. You know why.” His voice is harsh but you know he’s not angry with you. You can smell the combination of cigarettes and spearmint gum on his tongue with how close he is. His cologne comes into the mix and it’s heavenly in all honesty. He’s embarrassed for getting caught, worried he’s gonna lose one of his best chefs, and worried he’s upset you. Someone’s yelling that they need Carmen to sign for a delivery and your time with him is coming to an end for now. 

Normally your hand never dips below his shoulders or the top of his chest. Always friendly, light touches. This time your hand comes up to rest flat against his heart and you can feel it quickly beating. “Carmy - Breathe.” Your eyes don’t leave his as your hand slides down his chest, fingers trailing along the soft cotton of his shirt. Stopping only once you can feel the dip of his hip. “We’re okay. Go handle your restaurant, I’ll talk with you tonight.” 

You pat the back of your hand against his hip he’s being called for again, feeling a little dizzy under the intensity of his stare. He’s still nervous, knuckles turning white as he keeps a death grip on the line. “Carmen Berzatto, you’re fine. We’re fine. I promise you, okay?” Finally taking pity on him you give a warm smile, stepping back and breaking eye contact. “Go sign for the clams before we have to change tonight’s special and Sydney kills us.”

———————–★–———

Everyone’s long gone by this point of the night. Tina tried to convince Carmen to go home and get some sleep about twenty minutes ago but he made some excuse about wanting to reorganize the walk-in before tomorrow’s service. Really he’s just counting down the minutes until the two of you are alone. You haven’t been able to talk today - Too many listening ears around for Carmen’s comfort. In your defense, you just minded your business and kept on top of your station. 

But God he can’t stop admiring you from across the room. There’s less shame to it now that you know. Still anxiety, yes. But your comforting earlier has him… Hopeful? Hopeful for what he’s not sure. 

You catch him staring at one point during dinner service, risking a glance around the kitchen and throwing him a wink before turning back to work and deliberately giving him a small shake of your ass. To anyone else it would probably look like you were just swaying mindlessly. Not to Carmen though. You’re teasing him and it’s working.

Tina’s finally shouting out goodbyes and Carmen’s eyes are trained on watching as you walk towards the office. Any pretend task he was doing is quickly forgotten as he intently follows you. He’s played this situation over in his head a dozen times, even burned himself on the cigarette he forgot he was holding earlier.

He finds you standing by the desk, running your fingers along the edge of it and grinning. “What happened to my present, Carmen?” 

“Chucked it in my locker. Couldn’t risk someone findin’ them, you know?” It’s embarrassing enough having to answer to you, he couldn’t imagine trying to explain to the staff (or God forbid his sister) why there’s lingerie with his name on the desk. Carmen’s face is overheated and his heart is pounding. For all the hours he’s spent fantasizing about you, he’s never really considered this conversation until today. Typically he skips right towards fucking you however you’ll let him. But now he’s stuck face to face and trying to figure out how to acknowledge his actions. 

"You know I, uh -..." He's sputtering out, trying to figure out just how to defend himself, "You're very, very pretty if that means anything. Fuckin' gorgeous, honestly."

"Did you get off watching me?"

There's no going back now.

"Yeah, I did."

You're grinning at him now, stepping closer and Carmen swears the temperature in the room just went up by ten degrees. He's got his eyes trained on your face for the second time tonight. Hunting out exactly how you're feeling. What he doesn't expect is to feel a feather light touch along the waistband of his pants, nails scratching along his skin as you slide two fingers under the fabric. "Did you think about fucking me? Or did you think about me getting on my knees for you more?"

Carmy's starting to wonder if this is real. Maybe another daydream? For the time being he decides to stay with it though. Trying with all his might to sound as confident as he's mentally done so many times having this part of conversation with you in his head before. "Fucking you. Always thought how much better I'd feel for you than those little toys you use. Sometimes -" He takes a deep breath, straightening his shoulders and trying to build up the confidence to keep this going. He's still not convinced he isn't in some sort of trouble with you. "Sometimes I'd watch you play with your clit. Watch you whine and just knew how badly you needed me to be there."

Your hand slides lower now, fingers pushing through the patch of hair at the base of his cock. Carmen's breathing stops at the touch and you can feel him getting hard under your touch. "Really?" You hum, flattening your hand out and running it down his length. His hips twitch involuntarily as you cup your hand over him, middle finger dragging along his tip. "I've thought about you too, you know? Sometimes you get so fucking pissed off during a rush. I think to myself 'God, he needs to take that anger out' and wonder if fucking me out back would help calm you down. Letting you use me. Sometimes I think you'd walk away after you finish but I know you'd never leave me there all needy and not taken care of, right Carmy?"

He's shaking his head, his heart pounding and he's pretty sure he has never breathed his hard in his life. Labored and uneven while his cock keeps getting hard under your hand. He wants to kiss you, drop to his knees and lick you until you forgive him or decide to take pity and let him fuck you. But instead he settles for showing his need by rocking his hips up against your hand, letting out a broken little groan. "Never would just leave you back there. All I wanna do is - fuck - treat you right. Every night I think about how pretty you must sound begging for me."

You wrap your hand around the base of Carmen's cock, giving him a pleased grin when he fucks himself into your dry fist instantly.

"Do you think you deserve my pussy, Carmy?"

Another jolt of his hips. "No, no I fucking don't."

You lean in, just barely ghosting your lips against his. Carmen has given up all control and allows himself to be fully at your mercy. Your hand pulls back from his cock, sliding out of his pants and he's whining. Shamelessly whining. You're kissing the corner of his mouth, lips traveling down his jaw while you make quick work of unbuttoning your jeans. You grab ahold of his hand, sliding it down the front of your pants and into your underwear. Keeping his hand flat along yours, you use your fingers to navigate his. Rewarding him with a quiet moan right in his ear as the two of you press down against your clit. "I'm so wet for you, Carmy. Been thinking about what you must feel like ever since I caught you watching me." Your hips are rolling down against your hands as you come back up to face him again, bumping your noses together and rewarding him with another moan when Carmen's hand starts to move on its own. Two rough fingers sliding down from your clit to between your folds.

"C'mon, Chef. Want you to fuck me just like you've been dreaming about. Can you be a good boy and do that for me, hmm?"

Something deep in Camren finally snaps and he’s ready to fully earn your praise. One hand comes up to cup the back of your neck and pull you into a deep kiss while the other hand focuses on teasing your clit. His tongue is licking into your mouth at the same time one of his fingers begins to push into you and the combination of sensations is heavenly. You’re moaning into the kiss, both of your hands coming to wrap around his chest so you can begin pressing your fingers into the muscles of his toned back.

He doesn’t let up - Tongue sliding along yours and his fingers messaging the back of your neck while his other hand pulls out of you. You’re whining at the loss as Carmy pulls back, his fingers coming up to lips as he licks you off of them. “Been dreaming about what you taste like.” He looks sinful - Blue eyes staring into your soul as he follows his early fantasy and pops his fingers out of his mouth. Index finger tracing over your bottom lip until you take the hint and let your jaw fall open. Carmen’s fingers slipping in and weighing heavy against your tongue. “Dream about you begging me to come all over this pretty face.”

You start to rub your thighs together as the heat builds in your core, finding yourself getting more desperate as time goes on. Carmen drops to his knees, making quick work of pulling down your jeans and helping you step out of them. He’s making sure you're balanced once again before looking up to realize you’re wearing a pair of the underwear he sent you. Carmy smirks to himself, realizing he’s played right into your little game.

You want to make some cocky remark but suddenly his face is between your thighs and you lose all train of thought. His nose bumps along your covered clit before he licks a strip up the soaked fabric. “Can’t believe how fuckin’ wet you are.” Carmy reaches up to slide the panties down your thighs, taking his time and keeping his eyes looking up at you while he does. You watch as the pair is stuffed into his back pocket and he begins to place open mouth kisses along your inner thigh. Lips exploring closer and closer but always just far enough away from where you need him.

Your hand comes down to lace in his hair, the other one reaching over to try and steady your shaky legs by gripping onto the desk. “Carmy please.” You give his hair a little tug, unsure of his pain tolerance but you’re rewarded with a guttural groan coming from below you.

“Fuck - Pull my hair again.”

So you do, getting a better grip at the base and giving his hair a good pull. You direct his head closer to your center and Carmen lets you until he finds himself buried into your pussy. His tongue lapping over your folds and completing a circuit around your clit before going back down to the base of your hole. He’s moaning your name into you, his hands coming up to grab ahold of your ass. Helping you stay balanced while making sure you can’t get too far away from him.

He’s pretty sure if you say his name again he’s going to come in his pants so he’s putting in as much effort as he can to keep you distracted. Delivered a sharp smack to your ass at the same time he sucks onto your clit. He brings his other hand back between your thighs, tongue still working against your clit while he traces you with his bare fingers. 

There’s a finger being pushed into you and you tug on Carmen’s hair once again as he quickly pushes another in, dragging them both along your walls and all he can think is how good you’re going to feel wrapped around his cock. “S’good, Carmy. So fucking good. Jesus Christ.”

Your thighs are clamping around Carmy's head and both of your hands fly to grab a hold of his hair as you feel your orgasm start to build up in your stomach. “Shit! Carmen please!” He doesn’t let up, sucking at your clit while his fingers continue to curl inside of you. No one has been able to make you finish like this before and you’re a mess of gasps and moans and hips jerking involuntarily. 

It only takes another minute of him stretching you out and licking you up for your orgasm to hit. A mess of curses and cries falling from your lips as the sensation falls over you. Your legs instantly go weak and Carmen’s quick to grab a hold of your hips to keep you upright. 

He’s helping you hop onto the ledge of the desk with a reassuring little “Relax, I got you.” Your thighs are shaking, whole body vibrating and you’re keeping your thighs apart to avoid any pressure on your overstimulated clit. Carmen’s so proud of himself at the sight of you trying to recover. He’s between your knees, pressing down his work pants and his boxers before haphazardly kicking them across the floor. Your eyes drag along his chest, over his tattoos, along the length of him that’s thick and beautiful and ready to be buried inside of you. 

His hands find the bottom hem of your shirt, grabbing ahold and pulling it over your head. Your bra follows suit next. Both of your clothing is covering the floor of the office and you can't help but giggle at the mess made in Carmen's otherwise prestigious space. He's letting out a hum of appreciation at the sight of your breasts. Cupping one in each hand and letting his thumb drag across your nipples. "Fuckin' gorgeous. Been wanting to do this for so long."

There's a mouth wrapped around your nipple now, Carmen making quick work of sucking at it. Flicking his tongue across the hard nub. He pulls back, blowing a stream of cool air against your wet skin before switching to your other breast and repeating the process. You get to sit there and savor the feeling, playing with his hair while Carmen takes his time exploring your breasts. When he thinks you're just blissed out enough, he kisses a path up to leave a small hickey onto your soft skin.

You notice, of course you do.

But you don't complain.

Carmen wonders if you'll let him mark you up before you film anymore content. Wonders how many men will realize they don't stand a chance with you anymore and that you belong to him already.

There's another nip being delivered to the skin of your breasts before he comes back up to give you a warm smile.

Carmen’s leaning in to grab ahold of your jaw, kissing you gently while you reach out to grab ahold of him and get rewarded with a moan. Rubbing your thumb across his tip to collect a bit of moisture and lazily jerk him off.  He’d be fine with this and nothing else for the rest of the night. Getting you off and finishing wherever you ask him to but he knows that won’t be enough for you. For now he enjoys exploring your mouth. Getting to taste you and he wonders if you’re tasting yourself on his tongue. 

You scoot towards the edge of the desk and wrap your free arm around Carmen’s neck. You’re both so hot to the touch. Hearts beating fast, breathing uneven. Needy and unashamed how obsessed with the other you both are. His hands start rubbing up and down your thighs as he gives you a second to recover from your orgasm. He’s got you smiling against his lips as you kiss him, giving a playful nip to his bottom lip. You can’t decide if you want him to use you while you’re still riding the aftershocks or obsessed with how he’s letting you savor the moment. 

Once your thighs stop shaking you wrap them around Carmen’s waist, dragging his body closer to yours. He’s chuckling at you, firm hands sliding down to grab at your hips and your ass, whatever he can get a hold of first. “Wanna watch you put me in. You do so good at fucking yourself in your videos, Baby. Wanna see you tease yourself with me instead of those fucking toys.” 

You drag the tip of him through your folds, teasing the both of you. Carmy’s giving up every ounce of control in this moment, all given to you. “So big. You’re gonna make me feel so good, Chef.” There’s a sound coming from deep in his chest, “Use my name.” Oh. You nod the best you can while being so close to him, giving a chaste kiss to his lips. “I’m so wet for you, Carmy.” 

You’re sliding the length of him between your folds again, tapping his head at your own clit before bringing him to settle right against your hole. Your hand comes around to press on his ass, directing him to push in. It’s hard to tell which sound is coming from who but soon the small office is filled with broken moans as he starts to stretch you out. 

His first stroke is slow, both of you adjusting to the sensation. He’s sinking in inch by inch, thinking of whatever bullshit nonsense he can to keep himself from instantly busting when he’s barely even inside of you. His brain is glitching, trying to hold onto this one time he walked in on Fak taking a bubble bath to keep his orgasm at bay but at the same time you’re moaning his name and playing with the hair on the nape of his neck and his balls feel so heavy and heavenly resting against you as he bottoms out and - 

“Carmen please, please.” Right, focus. 

He’s kissing you once again before rolling his hips. There’s his strong arms wrapping around your torso to keep you in place and you feel so warm and safe and full. You decide maybe Carmy deserves a little more shit soon for not burying himself inside of you the second he found your channel. “Gonna take care of you, Honey. Feel’s so good huh? Been dreaming of you wrapped around my cock and it’s so much better than I could have imagined.”

You nod and feel your body going limp, leaning your head down to rest your forehead on his shoulder while he starts to fuck into you. Each time you press a warm, open mouth kiss to his neck his speed picks up. The lewd slapping sound of his cock sliding into your wet pussy combined with his balls slapping against your ass filling the room. He’s bumping his shoulder up against your head, “Look at me? I wanna see your pretty face.” 

It takes all the strength left in your body to pick your head back up, “So much better than when I do it myself, Carm. Needed you so bad, so fucking bad.” He grunts, rewarding your praise with a sharp jerk of his hips as he brings his hand down to toy with your still sensitive clit. Your head falls back at the sensation so Carmen brings his free hand to grab your jaw, tilting your head back to look at him. “Eyes on me.” He wants to make some empty threat that he’ll stop fucking you if you look away again but he can’t even pretend to want to step away from this.

His thumb stays on your clit while we keeps fucking into you at a steady pace. His lips ghosting over yours as you both get closer to falling apart. “You can give me another, Baby. Wanna feel you come around me. You can do that for me, yeah? Wanna be good for me don’t you?” Your nails drag along his back and something about the hiss it draws from his lips and the way his pace sputters at the feeling. 

You’re a blubbering mess in all honesty. Any facade from your videos of being cool and collected is long gone as Carmen chases your orgasm. Just whimpering out his name and pleas to the best of your ability until there’s one fateful stroke combined with your clit being brushed against that has you coming undone. Nails dragging into his back and he keeps your head in place to watch as your orgasm plays over your features. 

Within seconds you feel him start to pull out of you, presumably for his own release. “Please, Carmy. Wanna feel you fill me up.” Remember how Carmen’s become more religious since he started falling for you? In this moment he truly thinks God made you special just for him. 

His lips are crashing into yours, sloppy kisses meant for nothing more than to convey need being shared until you feel his body go stiff. Hips jerking on instinct as he fills you deep with cum. One of the thrusts causes some of the liquid, a combination of the both of you, to push out around the base of his cock and he stores that feeling for later. “Fuck you feel so good like this.” 

Carmen’s sensitive and getting soft but he can’t help a few more thrusts into your sloppy pussy. Savoring the way he’s been able to claim you as his. There’s a stray thought that he really does want to film with you one night, keep the camera steady on your pretty body as he defiled it.

He stays buried in you, not quite ready to pull out. Carmen’s analyzing your features from this close - The curve of your nose, how well your lashes frame your eyes, the sleepy little content smile on your lips. He’s fascinated by you. The feeling is mutual as you trace over his tattoos, rolling your shoulders back to help relax your body. 

The two of you stay like that for a while, both just soaking the other in. You finally look up from his chest to give him a sheepish girl, leaning in to press a kiss against his lips. “So - Better than what you imagined?” 

Carmen’s laughing, the sound rumbling through his chest and warming up your heart. He looks lighter than he did when he confronted you this morning, a sparkle in his eye even. “Holy fuck, so much better.” You get another kiss from him after the admission, his hands coming down to grip at your ass. “Let's get you cleaned up and I’m bringing you back to my place for the night, yeah?” 

It’s your turn to grin, nodding enthusiastically and giving his bicep a squeeze. “Yes, Chef.”

[rmadridcore]

Wild Day In

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader

Summary: You and Jude babysit your friend’s hyperactive 5 year old, battling snack mishaps, a bubble-filled bath explosion, and a mini tornado of energy.

Word Count: 3.9K

Masterlist

Author’s note: Heyyy 🤍 I was in the mood for fluff overload bc this week was a fever dream and soo much happened and none of it was good 😭 sooo here is a cutesy fic I wrote very quickly. Hope you’ll like it & don’t forget to tell me your thoughts! 🌸

——————————————————————————

Jude is, without a doubt, one of the most considerate people you’ve ever met. He doesn’t just listen — he hears you. He’s thoughtful, always taking your perspective into account, and when it comes to making decisions, your opinion carries an almost sacred value for him. But, and this is a big but, sometimes the man is as stubborn as a remote control that refuses to work until you smack it just right.

Enter today’s situation.

Your friend called you in desperation, asking for a huge favor. She and her partner were off to a wedding, and their regular babysitter had fallen through. Would you and Jude be able to babysit her 5 year old son, Ollie, for the entire day and night?

Now, Ollie is an adorable little boy, the kind who can charm anyone in seconds. You and Jude had spent plenty of time with him before, and you both adored him, but an entire day and night? That was an entirely different ballgame.

You couldn’t say no. How could you? Ruining your friend’s plans wasn’t an option, and besides, how bad could it be?

When you told Jude about the arrangement, he seemed oddly enthusiastic, flashing his trademark grin. Jude loved kids, and Ollie was no exception. But that’s where his stubborn streak kicked in.

Ollie, bless his heart, was a handful. Hyperactive, tireless, loud, and joyful in a way that only 5 year olds can be. A sweet little menace, in other words.

You had begged Jude to ask his mom or your mom to help out, just in case things got overwhelming. But Jude? Absolutely not. He flat-out refused.

“We’ve got this,” he said, as if the two of you were seasoned parents. “It’s one kid. How hard can it be?”

No matter how many times you tried to change his mind, he was dead set on the idea of having Ollie all to yourselves. And, eventually, you caved. It’s just one day, you reminded yourself. What could possibly go wrong?

As you rearranged the cushions on the couch for the hundredth time, anxiously waiting for Ollie to arrive, you threw out one last Hail Mary.

“We can still call your mom, you know? Her experience would be pretty useful right about now.”

Jude, cool as a cucumber, flashed you a grin. “Y/N, you’re worrying too much. We’re going to be fine.”

Fine, you thought, eyeing him like he’d lost his mind. Sure, taking care of a hyperactive five year old for 24 hours was no big deal — if you were, say, a superhero. But realizing you weren’t going to win this battle, you let out a resigned sigh and went back to fluffing pillows.

The doorbell rang, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Hi there!” you greeted Ollie once you opened the door with a wide smile as he launched himself at your knees, hugging them tight like you were his long-lost best friend. Your friend followed, looking both relieved and grateful as she set Ollie’s overnight bag on the floor.

“You guys are lifesavers. Seriously, thank you so much for watching him.” She placed a hand over her heart like she might cry with gratitude.

“No worries,” you said, giving Ollie’s fluffy hair a quick ruffle. “We’re going to have so much fun, right Ollie?”

Jude, standing tall behind you, added with a confident nod, “We promise he’ll still be in one piece when you get back.” You shot him a quick, anxious glance as your friend let out a nervous laugh.

“Just... try to keep him away from sugar before bed. He’ll get... well, crazier than usual.” She gave you instructions.

With a final hug for Ollie and another round of heartfelt thank-yous, your friend headed out the door, promising to keep her phone on 24/7, “just in case.”

You shut the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment, steeling yourself for what was to come.

When you returned to the living room, Jude and Ollie were already on the couch, flipping through kids' channels. Jude turned to you with a deadpan expression.

“Can a 5 year old watch Goodfellas?”

You burst out laughing but quickly realized from his face that he was, in fact, being serious. “No, Jude. Absolutely not. 90s movie about mobsters is not suitable for a kindergartener!”

Jude shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

The afternoon, thankfully, went off without too much drama — at first. Jude and Ollie settled on watching PAW Patrol for a solid 20 minutes before Jude, ever the athlete, decided to take Ollie outside to teach him a few football tricks.

It started off perfectly. They passed the ball back and forth, Ollie giggling with every kick. But then, ten minutes in, disaster struck. Ollie, in a burst of over-enthusiasm, kicked the ball with every ounce of strength his tiny body could muster... right into Jude’s crotch.

Jude dropped to the ground in agony, his face contorted in pain as he clutched himself. “I’m fine,” he managed to croak out, though you weren’t so sure.

Meanwhile, Ollie, oblivious to the catastrophe he’d just caused, ran around the backyard, laughing like a mini maniac. Football wasn’t distracting him — it was fueling him.

And that’s when you realized: this kid loved to run.

Like, really run.

He was a blur of energy, darting around the yard with Jude in hot pursuit, though Jude was limping slightly from the earlier injury.

You, on the other hand, could barely keep up. At some point, you dropped down onto the grass, panting for breath, your sides aching.

“How is he still going?” you wheezed, watching as Ollie raced around Jude, who had finally caught up and scooped the boy into his arms.

Ollie hung upside down, laughing hysterically as Jude spun him in circles. Despite the chaos, the sight of Jude with Ollie, both of them laughing and carefree, made your heart swell. Exhausted as you were, you couldn’t help but smile as you watched them. Jude, for all his stubbornness, was in his element, and seeing him like this, with a kid who adored him, was enough to make your heart race for a completely different reason.

After a solid hour of chasing the little whirlwind around the backyard, you finally managed to corral him back into the kitchen.

“Okay, buddy,” you said, leaning down to Ollie’s eye level, your tone hopeful. “How about a snack now?” Surely, after all the running he’d done, he’d be exhausted and ready to wind down.

“Yeah! Snack time!” he cheered, still bursting with energy as his little arms flailed in excitement. He darted into the kitchen like his life depended on it. You exchanged a look with Jude, who simply shook his head, a mix of admiration and disbelief on his face.

“How does he have this much energy?” you whispered, half to yourself. Ollie’s endless stamina was slightly terrifying but also ridiculously adorable. Jude, ever the optimist, scooped Ollie up and sat him on the kitchen counter.

“Alright, little man. What’s it gonna be? Cookies, fruit, or a sandwich?” Ollie tapped his chin in exaggerated thought, his face scrunching up like he was about to make the most critical decision of his young life.

“I want a peanut butter sandwich!” His eyes lit up, and just as you were about to reach for the bread, he added with the utmost seriousness, “But I want to make it myself.”

You and Jude exchanged another look, the same thought crossing your minds. This could either be the cutest bonding moment, or a disaster of epic proportions. Given Ollie’s track record for chaos, you were leaning toward the latter.

You hesitated, trying to find the words to suggest otherwise. “Are you sure we should—” Before you could finish, Ollie hopped off the counter and dragged a chair over, determined to prove his culinary genius.

His little legs struggled to climb up, but he managed with the confidence only a 5 year old could have. You and Jude watched in amusement as he grabbed the loaf of bread with two hands and tossed it onto the counter, a few slices falling to the floor in the process.

Jude discreetly reached for the peanut butter jar, loosening the lid before handing it to Ollie, so that he wouldn’t struggle with opening it.

“Alright, chef,” Jude said with a smirk, glancing at you.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.” Ollie stacked the slices of bread in a crooked pile, beaming like he’d just created a masterpiece.

“First, you need bread,” he said, his little voice full of authority. Jude chuckled, trying to stifle his laughter. “Looks… great.” Ollie then opened the jar of peanut butter with ease, thanks to Jude’s secret assistance, and proudly held up a butter knife that was far too big for his tiny hands.

With the precision of a wrecking ball, he began smearing peanut butter onto the bread — or rather, onto the counter, with a few globs landing on the bread by accident.

“It’s perfect!” Ollie announced, a glob of peanut butter now stuck to his cheek, completely unaware of the mess he was making.

Jude bent down to inspect the "masterpiece" with exaggerated seriousness.

“Wow, this looks like a real chef’s special. What do you think, babe? Should we open a restaurant?”

You snorted, crossing your arms. “Oh, absolutely.”

But Ollie wasn’t done yet.

“Wait! We need juice!” He hopped off the chair and sprinted to the fridge with the speed of a mini Olympic sprinter.

In his excitement, he grabbed a juice box, squeezing it so hard that juice sprayed everywhere — his shirt, the counter, and even Jude’s face.

“Whoops!” Ollie giggled, looking completely unfazed by the chaos.

“Whoops is right,” you muttered, grabbing a towel to clean up the sticky mess while Jude stood there, wiping juice from his face with a defeated look.

He shook his head, now fully laughing. “This is going great.” You tossed the towel at him, grinning.

“You’re cleaning this up, by the way.” You took Ollie’s sticky hand and led him off to change his shirt.

When you came back, the little boy proudly sat on the counter with his lopsided, half-smeared sandwich in hand.

“Here! Try it!” he demanded, shoving the sandwich toward Jude. “I made it special for you!”

He glanced at you with mock horror in his eyes, clearly torn between supporting Ollie’s culinary adventure and protecting his taste buds.

“Special, huh? Well, I’m honored,” Jude said, taking the smallest, most hesitant bite he could manage.

You watched, thoroughly amused.

“Go on,” you teased, eyes twinkling. “It’s a chef’s special.” Jude struggled to chew the sticky mess, his voice strained as he forced out, “Mmm... delicious.”

Ollie beamed with pride. “Told you! I’m a chef!” You burst out laughing, patting Jude on the back as he finally swallowed.

“You’re a brave man.”

“Anything for you, chef,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek, only for you to wipe a smudge of peanut butter from the corner of his lips.

The little boy, satisfied with his work, hopped off the counter and ran off to the living room, leaving the kitchen a sticky, peanut-butter-coated disaster.

You both stood there for a moment, surveying the damage. The counter was smeared with peanut butter, the floor stained with juice, and somehow, there was still a glob of peanut butter in Jude’s hair.

“This might’ve been a bad idea,” Jude sighed, tossing the towel over his shoulder, but the fond smile on his face told you otherwise. You nudged him playfully, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Admit it, you’re having fun.”

He looked down at you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “With you? Always.”

By the time bath time rolled around, you and Jude were already feeling the effects of a full day of babysitting. Ollie had run circles around the both of you, literally, and now it was time to tackle what could be the most unpredictable part of the night. You knew one thing for sure: getting a hyperactive five year old into a bath was going to be anything but peaceful.

Jude clapped his hands together. “Alright, little man, bath time!” he announced, flashing Ollie a wide smile. Ollie’s eyes widened like you’d just suggested the most absurd thing in the world.

“But I don’t need a bath! I’m not even dirty!” he protested, looking down at his dirt-streaked knees and peanut butter-stained shirt with a completely straight face.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, really? Because I’m pretty sure that peanut butter in your hair says otherwise.”

“No way,” Ollie argued, puffing out his chest. “Peanut butter is for eating, not for washing off!”

Jude knelt down to his level, trying his best to reason with the kid. “Come on, buddy, how about we make it fun? You can bring your toys, and we’ll have bubbles!”

“BUBBLES?!” Ollie’s eyes lit up like Christmas morning. “Okay! But I want a lot of bubbles!”

You grinned, grabbing the bubble bath solution from the cupboard. “Oh, don’t worry. We’ll give you more bubbles than you’ve ever seen.”

With that promise, Ollie finally agreed to the bath, darting up the stairs with the same boundless energy he’d had all day. You and Jude followed close behind, exchanging amused glances.

Once you reached the bathroom, Ollie was already busy picking out which toys were worthy of accompanying him into the tub. Jude turned on the water, adding a generous amount of bubble bath until the tub was practically overflowing with fluffy white bubbles. Ollie clapped his hands in glee, bouncing on his toes as he watched the bubbles multiply.

“It’s like a cloud!” Ollie exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

“More like a bubble avalanche,” you said, watching the bubbles cascade over the edge of the tub.

Ollie started stripping off his clothes — his shirt getting stuck over his head, turning him into a giggling mess as he tried to wriggle free. Jude stepped in to help.

“Alright, into the tub you go,” Jude said, lifting Ollie up and plopping him into the sea of bubbles.

Within seconds, Ollie was completely submerged, only his head and a mountain of bubbles visible above the surface. He giggled as he started splashing around, sending bubbles and water flying in every direction.

“Ollie! Gentle with the splashing!” you warned, dodging a particularly large splash that just narrowly missed your face. Ollie grinned mischievously. He threw a handful of bubbles at Jude, who was standing just a bit too close. Jude wiped the bubbles off his face, grinning.

“Oh, you want to play it that way, huh?” He grabbed a cup from the counter and scooped up some of the bathwater, threatening to pour it on Ollie’s head. Ollie shrieked in delight, ducking beneath the bubbles as Jude pretended to chase him with the cup.

“You two are going to flood the bathroom!” you said, laughing as you grabbed a towel to try and catch some of the water splashing over the edge of the tub. It was no use — by now, half the bathroom floor was soaked.

“Gotcha!” Jude finally managed to pour the water over Ollie’s head, earning another round of giggles from the little boy.

But then Ollie went quiet, his eyes narrowing as he smirked up at you. “Y/N, now it’s your turn!”

Before you could react, Ollie launched a fistful of bubbles right at you, hitting you square in the chest. You gasped, trying to look stern, but you couldn’t hold back the laughter.

“Alright, that’s it. You’re in trouble now!” You scooped up a huge pile of bubbles and gently tossed them at Ollie, who squealed in delight as the fluffy foam covered his face. Jude watched with a grin, clearly enjoying every second of the chaos.

“I think we’ve lost control of the situation,” he joked, shaking his head as more water sloshed onto the floor.

“Oh, we definitely have,” you agreed, but honestly, you didn’t mind one bit. Ollie’s laughter was contagious, and seeing Jude play along, completely carefree and happy, made your heart swell.

After what felt like an hour of splashing, giggles, and what could only be described as a bubble war, you finally managed to get Ollie cleaned up. He sat in the tub, looking at you with wide, innocent eyes as if the last hour hadn’t been complete chaos.

“Okay, time to get out now,” you said, reaching for a towel.

“But I don’t wanna get out! The bubbles are still here!” Ollie protested, scooping up another handful of bubbles. Jude knelt down beside the tub, giving Ollie a smile.

“We can have more bubbles next time, buddy. But if you don’t get out now, we won’t have time for a bedtime story.” Ollie’s eyes widened again at the mention of a bedtime story.

“A story?! Okay, okay, I’m getting out!” he said, quickly standing up and letting you wrap him in the towel. As you dried him off, Jude stood back, admiring the aftermath of what could only be described as a hurricane of bubbles and water. He grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You smiled up at him, leaning into his embrace as Ollie, wrapped in his dinosaur towel, skipped out of the bathroom, still buzzing with excitement.

“You sure you’re still up for that story?” you called after him, watching as he practically ran toward the living room. Jude looked down at you, raising an eyebrow.

“What do you think? You ready for round two?” You sighed dramatically but couldn’t help the grin spreading across your face. “I’m always ready if you are.”

With Ollie freshly bathed and wrapped in his cozy pajamas, you and Jude settled him onto the couch for what was promised, a bedtime story. His boundless energy had finally started to fade, though his excitement for the story was still evident in his wide eyes and toothy grin.

“Alright, buddy. What story are we reading tonight?” you asked, sitting down on one side of the couch as Jude took the other. Ollie squirmed in the middle, his little legs kicking restlessly as he looked up at you both, clearly relishing the attention.

“The dragon one! The one with the big, scary dragon!” Ollie announced, bouncing a little as he said it. Jude grabbed the book from the table, flipping through the pages dramatically.

“Ah, the one with the scary dragon. I see you like living dangerously.”

Ollie’s eyes grew wide, and he giggled. “I’m not scared of anything! I’m a superhero, remember?” He flexed his tiny arms, making you and Jude chuckle, referring to the superhero game he had made you play with him earlier.

“Of course,” you said with a grin. “Now let’s see how you handle dragons.”

Jude opened the book and began reading in an exaggerated voice, using different accents for the characters, making Ollie giggle uncontrollably. Every time Jude mimicked the dragon’s deep, growly voice, Ollie would cover his mouth in awe, eyes wide, but clearly loving every second of it.

You couldn’t help but watch Jude in admiration. He was amazing with kids, and it made your heart swell seeing him like this; so gentle, so fun, so effortlessly caring.

You caught yourself thinking about what he’d be like as a dad, the thought sneaking into your mind and making you smile to yourself.

“And then,” Jude continued, building up to the story’s climax, “the brave knight faced the dragon, sword in hand, ready to protect his kingdom!” His voice was filled with drama, causing Ollie to sit up straighter, his eyes glued to Jude.

“Did the knight win?” Ollie whispered, completely engrossed in the story.

Jude winked at him, lowering his voice. “What do you think, champ? Do you think the knight was brave enough to win?” Ollie nodded vigorously.

“Yeah! He’s brave, just like me!” Jude smiled, continuing the story with a heroic flair.

“The knight swung his sword and with one mighty swoop, the dragon was defeated!” Ollie clapped his hands, grinning from ear to ear.

“I knew it! The knight is the best!”

As the story reached its happy conclusion, you noticed Ollie’s eyes starting to droop, his earlier excitement finally giving way to sleepiness. His little body leaned against Jude, snuggling into his side as his breathing slowed.

“Looks like the knight’s biggest battle is staying awake,” you whispered, chuckling softly.

Jude smiled down at Ollie, gently closing the book. “Yeah, I think our superhero’s finally ready to call it a night.”

With Ollie half asleep, Jude carefully lifted him in his arms, cradling him with the ease of someone who had done this a hundred times before.

You followed them to the guest room, watching as Jude tucked Ollie into the little bed, pulling the blanket up to his chin. The little boy stirred for a moment, mumbling something about dragons before he drifted off completely.

You stood at the door, your heart practically melting at the sight. Jude leaned down, brushing a gentle hand over Ollie’s head before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

As you tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind you, the silence of the house settled in. For a moment, neither of you said anything, both still caught up in the sweetness of the scene you’d just left behind.

Finally, Jude broke the silence, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You know, I could get used to this.” You looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat.

“Used to what?” He shrugged casually, but there was something deeper in his eyes.

“This. You, me, taking care of a little one. It feels... nice.” Your chest tightened, warmth flooding through you at his words.

You leaned against the wall, trying to act nonchalant even though your heart was pounding. “You think?”

Jude nodded, his gaze soft and full of affection. “Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Ollie’s a handful, but... I don’t know. When it’s us, it doesn’t feel hard. It feels like... like we could do this one day. For real.” You felt a lump form in your throat, not from nerves, but from the overwhelming sweetness of the moment.

He wasn’t just talking about babysitting — he was talking about a future. A real future. And that thought made your heart feel so full it could burst.

You smiled up at him, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’d make a pretty great dad, you know.” He reached out, gently pulling you into his arms, wrapping you in a warm embrace.

“Only if I get to do it with you.” Your heart swelled, the simplicity and sincerity of his words filling you with a quiet kind of happiness.

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you.

In that moment, as the two of you stood there in the quiet, everything just felt right. You could see it so clearly. The future you’d both only ever hinted at, the one you were both starting to realize you wanted. And as you stood there in each other’s arms, you knew without a doubt that this was exactly where you were meant to be.

[aislebewithshu]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 loveit?

x gender neutral reader.

wc: 468

cw: yandere, mentions of cannibalism (in a metaphorical sense), character death, dismemberment (but not too graphic), vomit/throwing up, dark content basically. DIRECT references to the song loveit? and love eat and also based on the revenge theory bcs ppl have different interpretations towards this song lmao (and it made a dent in my brain forever. thank u to that one that came up w the theory).

dead dove, do not eat.

author notes: hi it's been a while since i last wrote anything.. i mean anything at all.. this (obviously) might not be the accurate representation to the songs HNFF pls i tried considering other theories... thank u for reading!! scroll away if uncomfy <3

red. It is the color he could only see.

how putrid, he thinks. seeing so many people surrounding you, it irks him. how could you talk to these… lowly creatures undeserving of your presence? he eyes you like a predator, watching your possible next move. oh, how he loves that horrified look you have for a second the moment you laid your eyes on him.

“come on, eat it, darling."

he urges you as you hesitantly look at the ‘food’ served to you, then back at the male. what could he put here that he insists that you eat the meal he prepared? you take a bite, and he smiles.

it was the meat of the person you last talked to, he whispered. the moment he said that to you, you immediately threw up, not letting said human meat inside your system. disgusting, vile, even uncanny.

he was pleased, after all, you wouldn't let anyone in your life except for him, would you? the first question in your mind was, why? why, would he go lengths, as to butcher one's body just because you talked with them? he hates that you're giving all your attention and affection to that insignificant pest.

he also has to stake claims to you - a mark that you are his. that's why he proceeded to gouge out your right eye. it was excruciating, but what mattered to him is that he put a mark on you forever, and he plans to do more.

after all, love makes everyone blind, even to those who think they've seen what true love looks like.

"i'm going to eat you, sexually unrestrained."

oh, why can't you say anything? you're not fighting him back, so you must like the pain he's inflicting from you? poor thing, but he loves you too much to let you go. he promises to eat you up, deep into the marrow, flesh and blood.

that is, until you snap.

cupping his cheeks with your stained hands, you gaze into his eyes. it is uncharacteristically loving, to the point that it freezes him on the spot. what are you going to do next? he thinks.

bringing your lips to his, he indulges in the sick, yet passionate kiss, as you bring your hand to take his knife. you wrap your arms around him as he does the same, tracing lines at his back with the knife you're holding, bringing your beloved to his beautiful demise.

"you're loveit in human form."

surely you haven't lost your mind? of course, love does make everyone blind, even him. your ultimate intentions— on why you had to indulge in his twisted whims, why you didn't fight back, it all made sense to him now. after all, he fell into the fake love you presented before him, a punishment you endowed on him for killing your actual beloved.

enstars - shiina niki, tenshouin eichi (hear me out), fushimi yuzuru, saegusa ibara, shino hajime, sakuma ritsu (honestly i cld put the whole niki's kitchen circle here)

twst - trey clover, jade leech, jamil viper

bllk - mikage reo, kaiser michael, bachira meguru (hear me out pt. 2)

hsr - jiaoqiu

+ your faves.

©AISLEBEWITHSHU on tumblr. do not repost / feed to AI.

[retributory]

Thank you for the post saying Binghe wouldn't care if he found out Shen Yuan replaced Shen Jiu, I saw a post on that danmei confessions blog that was something like "Shen Yuan being compared to Helen of Troy is accurate bc they both bring ruin to those around them, since if people found out about Shen Yuan then Cang Diong would want Shen Jiu's body back for a burial (so they would basically exorcise Shen Yuan out of it I guess and he'd die again) and Luo Binghe would break up with him for not being able to trust him anymore" and that pissed me off so much bc like. Worstie how can you read the novel and be this wrong about everything in it. Personally I don't think people know Shen Yuan replaced Shen Jiu (except maybe Binghe) but if they found out about how he was forced to due to the System, like he was a hostage and cursed by some entity, they certainly wouldn't blame him or force him to leave. I mean literally the only person who would mourn Shen Jiu is Yue Qingyuan, and he likes the current Shen Yuan too! He wouldn't want him dead either. Idk how some people can misinterpret a novel's point this bad but I wish they'd stop talking about it as if they're facts

yeah idk the average user on that blog appears to be reading entirely different novels and you go in the notes and people are nodding sagely as if the posts make sense. like if the actual text of the novel disagrees with you i think you're just wrong lol.

and yeah they . . . pretty much have already guessed it isn't shen jiu anyways. like they don't know who it IS, or what exactly the truth of the situation is, because the system and such are out of their scope of knowledge, but they're quite confident in running theories like "qi deviation-induced amnesia and personality change," so they don't consider him the same guy anyways. they were actively shocked it WASN'T possession (though the possession theory is kind of correct. lol). it's also so weird to think that cqms would (for lack of nicer terms) give a fuck at all if sy DID maliciously possess sj. in the original timeline it's made pretty clear no one comes to sj's defense except yqy, because sj specifically desires that outcome. sj isn't some helpless baby at the whims of everyone around him - he specifically and intentionally seeks to ruin his own life and the lives of everyone around him, or at the very least make them as miserable around him as possible. thus, no one else likes or misses him at all, and in fact every peak lord at that meeting was jumping for joy that they got Other Guy instead of sj, which is a contributing factor to why they just decide to simply not call him out on it.

i also think (says guy who posts about svsss 3 times a day) people are like. taking it too serious. you're not supposed to be seriously considering lines of thought like that because svsss is a transmigration parody novel of xianxia power fantasies - whatever exists in the background exists purely to support the world of this satire. and while that certainly is a fun topic for meta - i enjoy reading posts like that! - it becomes irritating when the meta is framed as if somehow you are in the wrong for enjoying a novel the way it was intended to be enjoyed by the author, and that the only True way to enjoy it is through enlightened meta-contextual analysis that assumes all the characters are actually different people.

someone on that blog was like "why doesn't svsss expand on the lore and fights and characters!!!" because they don't matter to the story my friend. not every novel is lord of the rings. this is xianxia transmigration parody novel my friend. just read . . . an actual stallion novel. actually really do that because then you'll form a connection with sy because these things are written SO bad and then you'll understand him LMFAO

[bloogers-boogers]

Forbidden Power AU. This AU focuses on Michael, it's the end of all Creation, all thanks to Lucifer's Spawn. Michael's final attempt to fix everything is to Disturb their father Only To Discover that his father is dead and has been dead for what looks like years there is still hope his father may be dead but his Authority can still be used... All angels authorities are held in Halos and God is no exception... Michael has a halo So he can go back and fix everything... The issue is the darkness in his heart, his Desire for the First man... Originally he was going to leave Almost everything unchanged...but this is an Opportunity he never did get or never should have had...can he stay on the noble path...ya No Michael has bin the good boy all his Existence and he will continue to be the good boy But he will be so when it comes to Adam and make Adam Exactly how he wants him to be

Hopefully this ask is for me and not mistaken for another blog shsiwbdjiwe do not get me wrong I love the guitarhero ship but I haven't posted anything about them aside from the drawing I made for @/ironbatpaperturtle (and my adamsapple fic) so I have a feeling that maybe this ask wasn't for me 😭

I should tho... like write more of them cause ngl I really like them together but my whole view on those two is far different than @/ironbatpaperturtle's Michael and Adam ahdjendiw

BUT if this anon is for me then I appreciate you for sharing me your au whdjwkdjdwoek 💖 now, with all that said let me proceed on actually answering you.

Omygod. Okay first, I think the God being dead for the longest period is such an interesting concept I read something similar like this before in a fic (adamsapple) called 'the devil you know /by anglotron' so I like it, kinda explains why angels would be put in so much work (do drastic choices) if God isn't there to guide them and solve things for them or just get involved but I also love the concept of him not giving a f*ck shjsiahdwiwbs after Lucifer's fall/betrayal he was just left hopeless for anything; his most "perfect creation" (Adam) corrupted by evil and then his most "perfect angel" turned out to have been the one to bring said corruption. (he may still care for Michael and Jesus tho but like it's hard for him to care about the rest) and letting all his children figure it out themselves (poor Sera), like, I can picture him just as depressed like Lucifer in the show issisofksos but unlike him who copes with making ducks, God just lays in the couch mopping about how disappointed in humanity he is and how "perfect" everything was before he planted the damn apple on earth, while he bosses Michael and maybe Metatron too (tho with him he's a lot more harsher bc he was previously human and he's kinda just bitter about them in general, but he's proven his worth enough) around to bring him shit like ice cream or junk food (tho he could easily just summoned all those things he subconsciously just wants company and Michael is there to bring it to him the only angel that has not yet disappointed/maintain loyal to him). So yeah.

Anyways — I still like the concept of God actually being dead. Like when you say Michael has a halo do you meant like he holds on to God's halo? Cause that's kinda cool af, imagine him just holding on to the halo of God (maybe even pitifully hopeful their father would return 'saving it for him') so he just has the halo on him and everyone just "oh shit this motherfucker really could just end it all if he wanted to" but Michael just doesn't cause 'with great power holds big responsibility' type of mentality and I think it'd be funny if Lucifer confronts heaven and is in a determined search for Michael to provoke him and remind him he's still the most perfect of all God's creation (mosty just salty as hell bc Michael cast him to hell lmao) and then when he finds Michael he like comes up with a taunting comment about how bad heaven turned out to be Yada Yada that neither realm is perfect or better than the other, and BAM suddenly his eyes drifted to Michael's head and recognizes the halo.

"Is that—...!"

"Yeah," Michael simply states defeated in his chair, unfazed by his brother arrival, from all the chaos going on, his people being murder, just, done, "father's gone, Lucifer."

So they just stare at eochother in silence, Lucifer with a stunned almost hurt expression and Michael with a nonchalant one. After the realization hitting him like a truck Lucifer realizes there was no end to the chaos released to all realms after Charlie unintentionally brought it to them if God wasn't there to fix it all...

Fear overwhelming him now cause he was kinda chilled out about the whole thing knowingly God would have to intervene soon because heaven was also being attacked by evil- but now realizing he's dead, it like hits him hard, mostly worried for his daughter's fate more than anything else.

Then, another thing hits him, "wait! What aren't you doing anything?! You can fix this, Michael! You have father's power, we can-"

Michael lifts his hand to signal him to stop, "I'm not planning to do anything."

"WHAT?!! Do you realize your people are also being attacked!"

"Your daughter brought this among ourselves, now, she must find her way to solve it."

"But she won't be-"

"Silence. If she was able to bring it to us then she's more than capable of putting it back. If not, that's no longer my problem"

"YOU-!"

"No, Lucifer," he stands up, the power of God emitting through his aura, the millions of eyes on him, big six graceful wings extended to show their full on glory, eyes bright like the intensity of a star. His voice was much more deeper and cold, distant, detached, "I lost everything because of your silly dream of free will, and now redemption. Look at where it lead us, prove me wrong this time, if it doesn't succeed then it was meant to be that way. Accept your fate.

I would create something new, something different. Something that won't betray its kind. No longer you existing. It will be perfect."

Lucifer felt so tiny now. That was no longer the brother he once knew. Not the caring, gentle, protective fiercely warrior that he once was.

Only filled with rage, grief and pain.

Michael... is dead too.

But anyways with all that, somehow lets say both Charlie and Lucifer mange to remind Michael of his love for the countless souls left at his hands to care and protect. And I dunno maybe a song too ahdhdiqgsjahsia and what gets the cake is Michael seeing Adam alive, behind the two, who somewhat stumble across their intervention in a 'bad timing'.

"Hey bitch you forgot your tampon— oh shit! Wrong room," Adam (now sinner) appears at the door oblivious of the whole deal.

"Adam!" Charlie shouted annoyed as they were already, almost, having a heartfelt moment between her father and Michael.

Michael eyes watered, "ADAM!" He pushes past Charlie and Lucifer who are now just confused as fuck seeing how Michael (filled with new growing hope) crushes Adam in a big hug with all the intensity of his power and somehow it was till so gentle and careful that it didn't kill Adam.

And the first man just there struggling to get loose while also suffocating.

Idk I just like Michael still having to be the hero even in circumstances where he doesn't want to. So the universe just grants him a purpose for he to keep following up God's title for him. If he wasn't gonna do shit because he lost Adam? Then BAM! Sinner Adam is now a thing so keep your ass moving Michael!

Michael now wants to fix things up to keep Adam safe; his new purpose (reason) on protecting heaven, his people and the countless souls God left him in charge with.

[hellofastudysession]

am i rlly going to write a death note literary analysis when i could be doing other things

about the discourse going on in the tag abt "death note is acab and thats why the characters couldnt better the world with the note (/written in somewhat jokey matter)" vs "death note is trying to say we all have potential for evil, especially if you get a chance to insta-hurt ppl without repercussions, and it doesnt matter if youre a cop or not", i personally feel like it ignores the things that i like abt death note, which is "both of these things are true", and simultaneously "both of these things do not matter". the first part of this is dedicated to the first point, the latter to the last.

first point. i think its an important part of the message and themes (unintentional or not, and i lean on the former because... come on, can you really say the author intended you to not think of the cops as good people, at least compared to light and l) that light is a cops son, and that almost everyone who gets the death note is cop adjacent/thinks like a cop and is already corrupt/powerful when they get it (mello raised to think hed be just like l, yotsuba group is self explanatory; you cannot look me in the eyes and tell me teru "churchill" mikami, who was hand selected by light out of a bunch of rabid kira supporters, is a normal citizen). i appreciated the cop post bc its rlly important to not gloss over that aspect.

all of this would be an argument for "only someone like them would do something like this, and i am not like them, so im above them and immune to thinking about what id do with it", but... misa is the MOST important outlier in all of this bc her murders are solely selfish in nature and shes not doing any of this for "the greater good"!!! her nature of being an exception and still a very very bad person is really really important...

or it would be if death note gave a shit about her character at all!!! im not talking about her tragic side, im talking about exploring the ramifications of her killing people the way lights murders are (somewhat) explored. that would strengthen the message greatly! but shes dismissed and that weakens it overall. firstly, she's dismissed by the characters when l only sees her as a way to get to kira and basically shelves her the rest of the time. secondly, shes dismissed by the narrative when her character is gradually ground down to a stump and (not to sound perilously close to the bad takes ppl meme about) she never faces repercussions for her actions. every other character using the death note is treated relatively seriously, but misa just dies bc her love is dead. im not saying this isnt a... fitting punishment or that it isnt in character, but it doesnt fit snugly into the theme other people are talking about of "you reap what you sow" at all.

we do have something of an equivalent to misa's grayscale motives. surprise surprise, its light yagami. first is light's characterization in the musical (i will also note that misa never kills anyone in the musical). light's thinking is coplike, yes — he literally starts his first song by talking about "throw[ing] away the key" — but also, oddly enough, could be read as progressive and therefore sympathetic to tumblr ("let the corporations make the regulations / and hold no one accountable when everything gets wrong / let the rich and famous get away with murder / every time a high-priced mouthpiece starts to talk, his client gets to walk"). compare to the anime and manga, where his bigotry and pride and disgust come from a place of lukewarm dissatisfaction and boredom. the musical has much less time to play around with lights character, so it gives the audience something to immediately hook on. more on how that actually plays out later.

in the animanga, none of this is justified from the start. animanga light could say he was just killing people to make humanity way, way worse, and that wouldnt matter, because at the root of it, it was always his boredom that made him pick up the note. of course he actually believes in justice and believes hes doing the right thing (no, he believes he's doing the wrong thing, for the sake of the world... the right thing, because he is god...), but it was boredom at the start. all animanga light says about justice and righteousness and the law is a front in the end, bc he is exactly like l and misa — amoral. selfish. searching for entertainment. hedonistic. we know this. he kills naomi misora*. he kills lind l. turner. everything hes saying deserves to be dismissed from the beginning.

"but doesnt that mean you agree with the discourse post you wrote this post to argue against?" like i said, i agree with both of them! but i... still think its not right to reduce death note to the message of "the power to kill people is bad". because that is not exactly what the story is saying, even though that's literally its whole plot and therefore reaching that conclusion is self explanatory (lmao). let's look at the concept of mu. nothingness. "there's no heaven or hell". The Real Slay The Princess (Death Note Essay) Starts Here.

in light's final moments in the death note manga, while screaming about not wanting to die, he remembers that the first day they met, ryuk told light that "there's no heaven or hell. no matter what they do in life, all people go to the same place. all humans are equal in death". it is retroactively revealed that light knew this the whole time, operated under this knowledge for all the years we watched him — the knowledge that nothing he does is actually bad, that nothing any human does is actually bad, that shinigami are not "evil", that the universe does not care. that no one cares except humans. this oblivion absolutely terrifies him more than anything anyone could ever do to him. its what he thinks of before anything else as he flails there, screaming, dying. one could say everything he does after that day is him trying to escape that fact, or wrest control over it. but it doesnt work.

here are the lyrics of requiem, the musical's final song, sung over the bodies of l and musical light, a light who was at least somewhat good-intentioned at first: "sleep now, here among your choices / then fade away / hear how the world rejoices / shades of gray / gone who was right or wrong / who was weak or strong / nothing left to learn". this is the final message the death note musical and the manga chose to leave us with. there is no judgement. even after all that acknowledged hurt, after all the damage done, there is no judgement.

in the manga and anime alike, the world is just as fucked when light picks up the death note as when he dies. sure, we as readers can guess otherwise logically (and be optimistic, believing the world was never fucked regardless), but that's not what death note wants you to think. it ends with matsuda and another member of the task force noting how the world is worse again even though they killed kira (matsuda is clearly much worse for wear, but still determined), we see the shitty motorcycle band again, it ends with misa and a whole kira cult on a mountain even though kira died a long time ago...

its extremely important that light is never killed by any human or any aspect of the law. he is always killed by ryuk: a chaotic force completely detached from human sensibilities, one that does not care about good and evil. same with l; in the anime, manga, and musical, he is always killed by rems senseless, morally gray love (and you could argue in the kdrama that hes killed by love there too lol). justice is just a set dressing.

this is not just because death note is a tragedy, because good and evil can still matter in a tragedy. the theme of "nothingness" and "good and evil doesnt matter here" is also shown in a situation relatively unrelated to light winning or losing, or being good or bad. and its in fucking lawlight of all things. we all know ls not a good person. we know lights not a good person. this is tip of the iceberg death note knowledge. but the moment they start to interact, none of that starts to matter. textually, their relationship becomes more important than the people theyve killed and hurt. and the thing is? the thing is? THAT WORKS STORY-WISE. THAT'S ENTERTAINING. AND IT'S NEVER TEXTUALLY CALLED OUT IN A LASTING WAY. l and lights relationship, no matter how much i meme it, is genuinely important to the themes and "mu" because it makes it clear that despite all the pretensions, despite everything, this was never about good and evil. and it still works in the story. this is why death note is simultaneously a comedy — isn't the battle of good and evil supposed to matter more? well, fine, i'll keep watching this anyway. that suspension of disbelief comes crashing down the moment l dies, though, and a relationship built on nothingness (the "mu" sort, meaninglessness, not "character development" nothingness, theres plenty of character development) gives way to just nothingness (again, "mu", not light's post-l depression nothingness), forever.

(an aside: there is no one to root for in death note, and the only things to root for are either interesting character relationships, convoluted plots, or complete and total destruction: for everything to end so no more damage is done.)

not to say that death note does not encourage its readers to consider what damage they might do with the death note (obviously.), or that its characters never do. look at matsuda, a much easier heroic figure to latch on to than soichiro because of his unique place in the cast dynamic and because he's willing to consider both sides of the situation and kill light instantly for all he's done. its just that the story's own stance on the subject is... complicated by the existence of shinigami worldviews and by its own insistence that the world cannot change for the better.

also, this is not to say that this is executed well by the death note manga at all. it is a very strong tool, artistically, to establish and then violently remove any emotional connections between characters and make your story only about the exceedingly convoluted lengths characters go to to survive and catch each other so the reader can realize how ultimately pointless all of this is, but like... is that a good story choice if that's all you do? i would say not really. add in a good dollop of misogyny that destroys the second-to-last character who might actually be an interesting contrast to the rest of the cast's dull one-track focus on winning and justice, and youve got yourself a shitty story that... honestly still achieves what it went out to do, just not in a way id ever want to replicate.

anyway, back to the parts death note's actually trying to say. no matter what any human does in their life, no matter how they try to hurt or help the world, they all die in the end. hey, light, they all die in the end. once dead, they can never come back to life. and the seasons turn. and the world rejoices. and you say "goodbye"...

that's all.

no analysis of death notes overarching theme would be complete without nears final monologue, the definitive roast of light, the "you're just a murderer" speech: "what is right from wrong? what is good from evil? nobody can truly distinguish between them. even if there is a god." if we take this as talking about the actual god in the room (ryuk) as well as light, then near admits that humans will never be able to withstand these overwhelming forces and that, using justice and happiness and selfishness, they are just scrabbling to find meaning in things they ultimately have no control over.

but of course, near does not stop there. "[...] even then i'd stop and think for myself. i'd decide for myself whether his teachings are right and wrong." nears alright with not having control over everything, because near can still control nears own actions. these forces can and do exist, but they have no sway over nears own humanity — unlike light, who caved.

one of the creators of death note said they believe its message is "life is short, so everyone should do their best". the first time i learned this, i was like, thats... nice and optimistic, but an awful reading of the story! "life is short, so everyone should be desperate and striving like light yagami", who literally cut off other ppls lives for his own life? what character in death note are we supposed to strive towards when we "do our best"? they all do awful things with their lives! honestly, maybe they shouldnt have tried their best, if this is what their best is!

but with the view of "mu"... it makes a bit more sense. just a little. maybe.

there is no good and evil. there is only what humans think, and no matter what we do, we all die in the end. it is easy to be crushed and terrified by this in the same way light is, but what is more important than justice and righteousness and finding meaning is... doing your best. not being a person that hurts others too much. not letting yourself get swallowed up by an ideal. not going too far. and simultaneously, trusting yourself.

it leaves a few questions, though... was the currently dead l even a little bit right about his blatantly amoral approach, then? was there a point to this pain, and me slogging through this dumbass manga, and all the people that have lost their lives to a selfish teenage cop's son and the whims of everyone chasing after him? was there a point to any of this...?

the manga** never answers this. it stays clinically impartial until the very end. the musical is anything but clinically impartial (and i love it so much for that), and its ryuk that has the last word.

"there's no point at all."

of course theres no point. none of this was ever supposed to happen. that is what matters more than all the hurt and the crimes and the pain.

and that's... actually okay, because it's over now.

yes, death note has many really important themes present in its story, but its viewpoint is nihilism first and foremost. thats why its so fun and easy to play around with all the other messages, because no matter what fun or torment or awful things or righteous justice or absolute nothingness or sentimentality happens in between, there is always an end.

there is always the end.

[ckret2]

Is there a reason why you didn't make triangles be near the bottom of the society hierarchy? Is it bc you didn't want Bill to have some basis for seeing himself as a "liberator"? Bc you wanted to focus on the child celebrity/cult leader angle? Something else?

Flatland was, when it was published, a commentary on the society the author lived in.

The setting Flatland is meant to be a distorted, exaggerated mirror of (what was) modern society. Bill is a mirror of the Pines' worst character traits and reflects ideas (conspiratorial, political, existential) found in their modern society.

You fail to honor both what Flatland is intended to represent and what Bill represents if you decide that Bill and his homeland mirror a society that ceased to exist over a hundred years ago.

To me, there's an absurd irrelevancy in giving Bill a rigidly Victorian backstory. It optimizes him to serve as commentary on facets of society that SIMPLY DON'T EXIST in the era of Gravity Falls. That's not to say that there aren't still remnants of Victorian-era problems in the current day, like yeah we still have inequality, we still have sexism, etc.; but we've reached a point where the majority public opinion has decided that institutionalizing or euthanizing anybody with a disability because they're allegedly inherently less law-abiding is, in fact, an extremely stupid and morally heinous idea. The entire section on banning colors is absurd if you don't know that it used to be illegal for poor people to wear certain fancy garments so they couldn't impersonate the rich. Our issues are different.

Unless it's intended PURELY to be a piece of speculative fiction worldbuilding with NO INTENT AT ALL to satirize real human society, a Flatland-derivative work ought to reflect the modern society in which it's being written—not a dead society. A fanfic about Bill Cipher interacting with humans is UNABLE to be pure speculative fiction worldbuilding because he's already tied into a work about a modern human society. Make him Victorian and you flub a billion opportunities to enhance his ties to the main cast and his ability to serve as their foils.

Just for a couple examples—you can't build strong parallels between his life and Ford and Stan's "get rich & famous or die trying" young adulthoods if he's BIOLOGICALLY FORBIDDEN from accruing wealth or socially advancing. You lose opportunities to explore the mingled specialness/ostracism of being born a "freak" if his society has NO CONCEPTION of odd physical mutations even POSSIBLY being "special."

It's very easy to look at Flatland as it is and go "oh, yes, that's a very bad place." There's no nuance to that, there's not much fresh to say about it, Flatland is a reflection of a society we moved away from BECAUSE we decided those beliefs were bad. We can't relate it to our own society except in loose senses like "well... sexism is still a thing." (Sure, but not sexism like THAT.) To maximize how much Bill's culture meaningfully interacts with Gravity Falls' culture, you have to maximize how much Bill's culture mirrors Gravity Falls' culture.

The Victorian era was 120 years ago to us. So Flatland was 120 years ago to Bill.

[willow-lark]

lark's underrated byler fic recs

i went through my bookmarks to find the gems in this fandom that need more appreciation! let's uplift our community--pls check out these fabulous fics & give the authors some love!! 💕

beneath these boughs, my devotion blooms by @perexcri (T, 1/1, 11k) - drop whatever ur doing and read this fic RIGHT NOW. i'm not joking when i say it's one of the most transformative works of the 21st century. gorgeous, heart-wrenching prose & characterization. god!will & devotee!mike--except this fic turns that entire concept on its head. this fic killed me dead. you won't regret it.

Last true mouthpiece by @miwism (G, 1/1, 2k) - in which will and hawkins are one and the same. this fic opened up my eyes to a take on will-has-powers that i had never before considered but i have not stopped thinking about since i read it. i need more of eldritch will byers in this fandom & everybody should read this fic

don't leave me here alone by @strangeswift (NR, 1/1, 3.4k) - ok this one is EVIL. this one is GOOD. essentially: mike tries to convince will to run away with him to keep will safe from vecna, but will might not be the one who needs protecting... i am a sucker for some s5-speculative angst and this fic DEFINITELY delivers!

all I know is pouring rain (and everything has changed) by @willelfanpage (T, 1/1, 3.2k) - a character study of will, particularly in relation to life moments he has in the rain. ugh, will byers my love will byers my light... this fic is so gorgeous and so beautifully done, i think everyone should check it out! i love the canon moments mixed in with non-canon ones.

take me to the lakes by @afterglowsssss (T, 1/1, 2.1k) - FANTASY BYLER EVERYONE CHEERED!!! prince will x knight mike is something that can legitimately be so personal, you guys. they have so much love and affection for one another that i'm literally throwing up (/pos). cleradin's been getting a lot of love lately and i am enjoying it but u guys need to hype this one UPPPP!!

come to me again (in the cold, cold night) by @perexcri (M, 3/3, 16k) - i've been on a vampire kick lately and this is the fic that started it for me. featuring: estranged byler, vampires, dystopia, angst, reunions, and CONSISTENTLY BANGER prose. would not expect any less from a perexcri fic. this one is a little creepy and dark and is absolutely gripping the entire way through.

there will come a poet (whose weapon is his word) by @fizzseed (T, 1/1, 3.2k) - fics that include mike as a writer are always some of my favs. and when he writes for WILL??? ahhhh my heart!! he's just so sweet and dedicated and this fic is just SUCH a gem. i think byler's relationship with each other when it comes to D&D (separate from cleradin AUs) is so interesting and i'm so glad this fic explored it!!

Every eye trained on a different star by @ohfallingdisco (G, 1/1, 2.9k) - ok so just thinking ab this fic as i'm typing this is literally making me tear up. in short: will comes out to bob. why don't we have more fics like this in this fandom??? will byers & bob newby my beloveds. r u kidding MEEEEEEE. like WHAT. all y'all take NOTES bc i want more of this shit

[luwritesomething]

read the thing you wrote abt mickey altieri 🥺🥺 i love that man so much. if i could, i was wondering if i could request something abt him? maybe something where the read has insomnia and he helps them actually sleep <33 only if you want, of course 🫶

Mickey Altieri x Reader: Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby.

Words: 1199

Warnings: mickey is a killer but reader doesn’t know that (however this is not what the fic is about). there are light mentions of anxiety, stress and pills (for headaches), i think there's swearing (bc it's me).

Summary: after a movie night with your boyfriend mickey, you don’t want to go to sleep.

Author's note: thank you so much for requesting, @altierirose!!! mickey will always have my heart, and he’s so fun to write for. i didn’t make this explicitly about insomnia, but reader does have trouble sleeping and that’s what this is about. no hate to dirty dancing, btw!!! (just a bit.) i'm giving you a follow bc there's not much people appreciating our boy... feel free to request whenever !!!! this is my attempt at not using "y/n" anymore.

Criticism is appreciated and request are open (except for the Wednesday fandom)! Hit that anon button and tell me your idea! You can see the character i write for HERE.

Every Friday night was reserved to you and Mickey since you two had started dating, some months after the beginning of your first college year. It had been agreed by the two of you, because you had soon realized that college life was messy, difficult and crowded; and a little bit of bonding time reserved for your relationship sounded like a good idea. Slowly, it escalated from cute little dates in the campus’ cafeteria to coffee shops outside the enclosure, until you two finally retreated to one plan and one plan only — movie night.

Fairly chosen, one week he was the one to choose one of his movies in between his precious collection, worthy of a Film student; and the next one you would choose, sometimes with better or worse criteria, but always having fun. Popcorn, candy and a blanket pulling you close together, his hand either around your shoulders or wrapped around your waist, letting you lean into him. It was a great plan for a Friday night.

This week it was your turn, and you had purposely chosen a movie that would piss off his movie buff extraordinare’s taste; something like Dirty Dancing. Mickey had bitched around for quite a while, not letting you hear the somewhat awful dialogues, but amusing you anyway because even if he could be annoying, Mickey was still funny and charming, in his own way.

The movie ended not too late, to Mickey’s relief, and as soon as the credits rolled in your little TV he jumped out of the bed with the empty bowl of popcorn in his hands, while he roasted the movie like it had personally offended him.

“It just makes no sense.” He said, putting the bowl in the only table you and your roommate had in your shared dorm. Your friend had always been kind and comprehensive enough to allow you to have the dorm whenever Derek, Mickey’s roommate, didn’t want to leave his. Mickey turned to you, still in bed, with a wide grin. “And seriously, Baby? It’s just so unrealistic for someone to spend a whole summer being called Baby by everyone.”

“Mickey, it’s a movie.” You laughed quietly, your head cocking to the side. 

Mickey pointed at you with his index finger. “That’s not an excuse, and you know that.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Whatever.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that sight, and you watched him do so. Mickey looked really handsome when he laughed, as his face filled with joy and beaming happiness — you liked the way he enjoyed himself around you. It was something sweet.

“I’m dead.” Mickey was able to say as soon as he stopped laughing, exhaustion washing over him after a hard week. His body felt sore, you could tell by the way he crawled to your side in bed. His body next to yours, even on top of the sheets and blanket, felt so familiar. A smile was shot your way. “Let’s go to sleep, uh?”

Something inside you crumbled suddenly as soon as you saw him getting inside the bed, without bothering to look if you were doing the same because he thought it was rather obvious. It produced you a feeling close to anxiety, thinking about sleeping while you slid by his side — this week had been hard on both of you, but what had kicked your ass the most wasn’t assignments and classes, like it had happened to him, but sleep. 

A series of all-nighters the last week had thrown you off, and now your sleep schedule was messed up. You had laid in bed every night, eyes closed, waiting for Orpheus to sweep you out of the world and into sleeping, but it hadn’t happened — as much, an hour or two before your alarm went off you would fall slightly asleep, producing you low headaches that you had successfully avoided with a few pills.

“But it’s so early.” You said, and your voice went a little higher like it used to do whenever you lied, catching Mickey’s attention.

His eyes drifted to your alarm clock behind you, head tilted. “You’re not tired?”

“I am.” You sighed, and then you stuttered a bit, before confessing. “But… I haven’t been sleeping well. It’s– It’s silly.”

Mickey’s body language changed instantly. His back straightened, so he could sit up with it against the headboard, body turned to look at you and give you his full attention. His eyes scanned you slightly, making you look away in embarrassment — you were a grown adult, and not wanting to go to sleep without a good reason was childish, you knew. 

“Is this about the murders going on?” Mickey asked quietly, like someone else apart from you could hear him talking about the matter that had been hunting everyone in your circle for the last couple of weeks. Two people had been murdered in the new, based on real events, slasher’s opening night. “Because if it’s that, I can promise you, you have nothing to worry about.”

“No, it’s not that.” You shook your head, to prove your point, then just shrugged. Mickey watched you curiously, carefully. “I think I’m just too stressed. The exams, and all… College life isn’t as good as they paint it and, I don’t know, maybe I can’t take it.”

A beat of silence, then two, before Mickey’s brows furrowed together. “That’s bullshit.” It surprised you enough to not let you speak instantly, giving him time to speak first. “I mean, I understand you being stressed, it’s natural. But if you can’t take it, then no one can.”

“That’s not true.”

“But it is!” He insisted, seriousness written all over his face. You had only seen him this serious once or twice before, when he was passionately defending a horror movie from Randy’s criticism, and when he had asked you out for the first time. “I think you’re taking it all too seriously. You stress too much about every single test and—”

“But it is serious, Mickey.” You interrupted softly, wrapping your arms around your knees for comfort. “I can’t slow down.”

“It shouldn’t take your sleep away.” He retorted. His hand reached out for you, comfortably squeezing once. “You’re doing great. I mean that. But you need to chill.”

Nodding slightly, your gaze fell down and away from him, processing his words. The silence settled between you, but Mickey needed to know what you were thinking — not anymore to have the upperhand, but because he was worried, and if there was something pure in him, that was his love for you. 

His hand left yours to barely graze your chin, lifting your head and gaze up. “Is that all of it?” Mickey asked softly. His eyes shone. “Nothing more on your mind?”

“That’s all.” You muttered, nodding slightly. He gave you a smile.

“Wanna go to sleep now?” 

Once again you nodded, and you two slid inside the bed. He switched off the lights and his arm surrounding your waist and pulling you closer didn’t startle you. Mickey didn’t fall asleep until you did, surrendering yourself to the calm circles Mickey rubbed onto your back and his even breathing close to you.

[xf-cases-solved]

S1E13: Beyond the Sea

Case: A young couple is kidnapped in North Carolina, and the authorities have five days to find them before they're murdered. Unfortunately, they have no leads, except for the testimony of Luther Lee Boggs—a serial killer Mulder put behind bars years ago—who is claiming to have psychic knowledge that will lead them to the missing children. In some serious turning of the tables, Mulder is skeptical of Boggs' claims, whereas Scully—whose father just died, and who is desperate for just one more message from him to know that they didn't part on bad terms—finds herself believing Boggs, much to her chagrin. After Mulder is shot, Scully is on her own to work with Boggs, leading to some sexy fucking "Silence of the Lambs" -esque scenes that make this episode not just a top tier s1 episode, but a top tier episode of all time. Mulder tears up his New York Knicks shirt (he probably has like seventeen tho, so it's okay), Scully is scared to believe, and Brad Dourif puts his entire goddamn pussy into playing Luther Boggs. A+++, fam.

Does someone die in the cold open: Yes! But it wasn't a crime. Scully gets the dreaded "middle of the night phone call" and learns that her father just died. (Even tho she just saw him sitting in her armchair across the room. Say what???) 

Does Mulder present a slideshow: No. 

Does the evidence survive the investigation: This is another where it depends on what you mean by evidence. Evidence of the actual, literal crime? Yes, that actually worked out like how normal police work is meant to go if you're good at your job. Evidence of Boggs' psychic abilities, however? Unfortunately, proof of those went with him to the gas chamber. 

Whodunit: Lucas Henry, who is either Boggs' accomplice, or somebody Boggs keeps having psychic visions of. It's up to you to decide.

Convictions: Lucas Henry would have been convicted if he hadn't crashed through several floors and fell on his face directly onto some concrete, so we'll give it to 'em.

Did they solve it: While the supernatural element remains a mystery, the crime itself is solved. This one is a resounding yes!

[how do i determine if a case is solved? check the scale here: x]

THIS EPISODE IS SPONSORED BY: Confusing and upsetting your loved ones by appearing to them after your death. Look, we all die—it's a fact of life!—but just because you're dead doesn't mean you have to be dull. When accidents strike, illnesses rage, or the clock has simply run out, keep the fun going by confusing and upsetting your loved ones by appearing to them after your death. By keeping the excitement of living alive by causing trauma to those closest to you as they mourn your loss, you're guaranteeing your time in the afterlife is off to a great start!

*Confusing and upsetting your loved ones by appearing to them after your death is especially recommended for those with loved ones who are particularly skeptical, or who are looking for answers to ambiguities left behind after your departure.

Try it today! Or, well, when you die, we mean. Which might be today!

***

General Total Stats:

(green means stat has changed since last ep; red means new stat added to list)

Total Cases *Definitively* Solved So Far: 6 (holy shit, three in a row?? unprecedented!)

Total Number of "Mulder/Scully, it's me" phone calls: 1

Total Number of Times Scully Has Conveniently Not Seen Something Crucial: 4 (Mulder was actually the one who was out of the room whenever Boggs said something that resonated with Scully)

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Been in Mortal Danger: 5 (pew pew) 

Total Number of Times Scully Has Been in Mortal Danger: 3 ½ (half point bc she should have died, but she had that warning from Boggs, so it was kind of a toss up) 

Total Number of Sexually Charged, Uncomfortably intimate, and/or Flirty Moments Between Friendly Coworkers: 8 (i changed the stat to add in "uncomfortably intimate" bc especially in these first few seasons, a lot of the MSR moments are more like... buddy, i get that you're going through it, but that is your coworker, why are you holding them so gently with so much love in your eyes? anyway, Mulder cupping her face in the beginning, and Mulder putting his hand on her gigantic 90s pant suit shoulder pad at the end are the ones i'm counting)

Total Number of Autopsies Scully Has Performed On Screen: 1

Total Number of Times Scully Plays Doctor: 1

Total Number of Times Mulder Talks to an Informant: 5 

Total Number of Times People Making Out in a Car are Hurt or Killed: 1 (new stat!)

Total Number of Nosebleeds: 4

Total Number of Times Someone Says "Trust No One": 1 

Total Number of Times Someone Says "I Want to Believe": 2 (new stat! first one was actually in that snore fest "Conduit," but i didn't want to go back and add it since i just considered making it a stat now)

Total Number of Cigarettes Cigarette Smoking Man Has Smoked: 2

Total Number of Maggie Scully sightings: 1 (new stat!)

Total Number of Alex Krycek Sightings: 0 :(

Total Number of Times I Had to Look Up What State the Episode Takes Place in Even Though I Literally Just Watched It: 3 ½

Total Number of Times I Had to Look at an Episode's Wikipedia Page to Fill This Out Because It Was Fucking Confusing and/or Too Boring for Me to Pay Attention: 2 (we stan Beyond the mother fucking Sea)

[mayhemakinguser]

Task Force 141 x Reader PART 4

Author: *watching MW2 Tiktoks*

Also Author: *REMEMBERS SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING PART 4 OF HER DAMN SERIES*

Author: *RUNS TO GET HER KEYBOARD AND ACTUALLY STARTS TYPING.*

IM SO SORRY BUT HERE IT IS OK I'LL STOP ACTING LIKE A DRONGO HERE WE GO

<story is beginning...>

"Damn," you wheeze out, pushing yourself up. "No mercy, eh?"

You're sparring with Ghost again because somehow, you defeated every one else on the Task Force. Except for the Captain, of course, you haven't had the chance to spar with him yet. You were itching for that though, on God. He could throw you around anytime...

Ghost scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Say that when you have a gun to your head. The enemies won't take kindly to you."

You hum, standing back up. You gesture at him. "One more time."

"Again?" Rudy inquires, surprised. You two have been at it for almost hours.

"I want to at least get close enough to actually beat him." You mimic Ghost's stance. "I wanna beat... Ghostie."

He gives you the most dead stare in the world. "...What the hell did you just call me?"

"Ghostie. Get it? You're a liutenant, or LT. Ghost, your call sign and you get Ghostie!" You grin. Soap and Alejandro are snickering in the background. You clearly aren't very imaginative when it comes to creating nicknames.

"You are not calling me that."

"Take it or leave it, sir. There is no other alternative. Unless..." Your eyes sparkle. "You wanna be Casper."

Soap can't hold it in anymore; unleash the Scottish tea kettle. Alejandro is laughing so obnoxiously, you thought the whole base would hear him. Gaz doubles over, hand over his mouth to contain his giggles. Rudy had that disappointed white mom look- all he needed was a sweater to wrap himself in.

Ghost narrowed his eyes at you. But was that a twinkle of mirth and amusement in his gaze? You thought so before Ghost rolls his eyes, turning away and walking to get his water bottle.

"Oi, we a'int finished yet! No breaks!" you call.

"Have Soap train with you then," he replies monotonously.

"I'd rather die than train with that man again. He sucks."

"I AM RIGHT HERE, CASANOVA." Soap strides over to you and gives you a rough shoulder shove with a grin.

You smirk. "Whatever, Handwash."

Soap complains loudly and the Captain walks in, taking in the scene. "Doing some practice, are we?"

All of you guys nod in affirmation. He smiles proudly.

"Casanova is fitting in pretty well," Gaz responds, his smile full of nice white teeth. You figured since it was Britain, everyone would got some crooked ass teeth, but nah. These fellas are the hottest guys on earth. Gaz fires a wink at you and you can't help but smirk. "She and Ghost would be a deadly duo, to be honest. Soap can't keep up."

Soap flips him off and Price chuckles.

"Good. Because we have another mission. Laswell will give you all a debriefing and then we're headed out. Are you ready, Casanova?" Price looks at you straight in the eyes, waiting for your answer.

You salute with a goofy smile. "Was born ready, Cap'n. It'll be nice to see Laswell again."

"Yeah, she thinks quite highly of you, Casanova," Price responds with a nod. "Now, let's put that potential to action. Follow me."

All of the team follows their leader with zero hesitation. You stare at the way Price walks and the urge to just grab him is almost impossible to ignore. His hips sure as hell don't lie...

-TIME SKIP BC AUTHOR ISN'T SURE HOW THE MISSION "Cartel Protection" EXACTLY GOES...-

"Been there before, Ale?" you ask, shouldering your SMG on your shoulder. The whole team was on their way to Mexico, to a village that was overun by the cartel there.

He snorts. "Of course! Mexico is my home after all, and I've already had my share with this cartel..." Alejandro scoffs in disgust.

You sniff and lean your head back. You've never been to Mexico before- honestly, you haven't to a lot of places, besides Afghanistan. And that didn't go so swell...

You shake your head again, leg bouncing up and down. You didn't want to admit it, but you were nervous. Nervous that things could go horribly wrong again. That it would be all your fault... For fuck's sake, why now? You've been able to block out the terrible memories, yet now all of sudden they came back to haunt you.

Flashes of gunfire. Explosions. Comrades screaming in pain.

"It's all up to you, Casanova! Go! Now!"

"But Liuetanent-!"

"CASANOVA, IT'S AN ORDER! LEAVE ME BEHIND!"

"NO! I CAN'T LOSE YOU TOO! PLEASE!"

Rudy nudges your shoulder and you flinch.

"Lo siento," he whispers, studying your torn expression. "But..." He trails off and a small smile appears on his face. Rudy nods reassuringly.

You inhale and slowly exhale, banishing the memories, screeching to be remembered. "Gracias, amigo."

He nods once more and leaves you alone. Rudy sensed something was churning in your mind, and that always wasn't a good thing before getting into battle. Good soldiers die that way.

And you knew that all too well.

<end of part>

IM SORRY ITS SUPER SHORT BUT I HAVE TO DO MORE RESEARCH BEFORE I WRITE A MISSION I HAVE BARELY ANY INFO ABOUT- And I have things to do, so take this for a moment im sorry again T^T

Hoped you enjoy this, im trying very hard to get you a moment with every member, so please dont mind the tiny scenes with you and another member... I want the quality time to be equal and not leaned towards just one character, because at the end, like I said, you'll be able to choose which character to be with! :D

Part 5 arriving shortly...!

[harlequinoccult]

ok well w that answer to my last ramble i hope you won't mind me coming back and rambling MORE-

the thing with Ariel "Vulpine" Fox (remember i said he has a Thing w foxes? his surname might have smth to do w that) is that, at his core, he is not a character that really fits into the vibes of slsq. and i love putting my ocs into Situations where they Do Not Really Fit In, because it forces me to think outside the box and go "ok, but what if they find themselves in that Situation anyway? how do i work with that while still keeping their character mostly intact?". and the mix of slsq and Vulpine is just * chefs kiss * especially delicious to me, bc Ariel always had a few screws loose, but he's always been a bit too level-headed to really lean into his innate madness, and slsq gives me the opportunity to really fuck with him and i love that-

Ariel's whole Thing is really that he's the perfect vigilante character. he would never make the profile of a serial killer. a killer, yes, oh he has no problem with killing you see, but it's usually done with some greater objective in mind. even in slsq im sure he's going to be extremely picky with his victims. the thing that really sets him off and makes him believe Murder Is Ok is injustice. because unfortunately for him, Ari has an unparalleled amount of empathy, which causes him to make some... contradictory decisions during his life. really, it all depends on who has earned his wrath. he will never kill poor people or people in need, in fact he usually goes out of his way to help them every single time, but put a cop in front of him and they're going to have the most slow, painful, cruel death possible.

there might be exceptions to the "no killing poor ppl/ppl in need" rule tho, if the person in question is an abuser who does nothing but inflict suffering on others and poison the local community with their toxicity. funnily enough, Carter fits the profile of Ariel's victims fucking perfectly, im honestly still thinking of a reason why he didn't kill Carter sooner other than "he didn't have enough time to do it". other people he'll definitely go after is the rich and corrupt politicians, which, not the best decisions for his anonymity or his safety, but if he's gonna get killing you bet your ass he'll try to cause some form of change while at it.

another thing he hates, has always hated and always will, is abuse of authority (which is why in his mind a good cop is always a dead cop). he has a general problem w authority even without the abusing part, especially hates when he's stripped of his autonomy and forced to do smth against his will (he IMMEDIATELY hates The Host on principle, and its going to get worse from here). he's always been a brat over being ordered around, even if he HAS to do what he's being told to do he's going to do it HIS way and fuck you if you have a problem w that. what matters is that he got the job done, isnt it? (i genuinely dont know how Carter managed to put up w him, those two together is a TERRIBLE mix)

most of all this does have to do w how he grew up, really. Ari is cannonically british (by which i mean, in my head he has a rlly subtle posh british accent that gets stronger the angrier he gets, which is even funnier to me bc the angrier he gets the more he swears and it usually involves a lot of FOCK and FOCKIN' and BLOODY being thrown around. like i get why OD would enjoy riling him up i rlly do-) which doesn't rlly have that much impact into his slsq story bc im not british and ik nothing abt britain but he is an immigrant and that's a lil bit important. to me. anyway-

he grew up in a very poor, very religious community somewhere in monarchy land (england), and was an extremely difficult, some would even say demonic, child. he's always had anger issues but it was MUCH worse when he was little (growing up he learns to deal w them to the point that getting him actually, truly angry without touching on what triggers him is extremely hard. good luck OD, his reaction to your annoying ass is mostly gonna be a sigh and a twitch of his fingers). his religious trauma, unlike w OD, has nothing to do w surviving catholic school (he went to a public school, somehow managed to be a massive nerd AND a delinquent at the same time, always had the highest notes of his class and was still despised by the teachers for being "disrespectful") and more w growing up surrounded by extremely religious people and realizing quite soon that praying did nothing to help w the systematic oppression they all were being crushed by. it only got worse when he started questioning the teachings of the church, growing more frustrated as he tried to get his peers to "see reason", and finally lost all hope when he went through his second exorcism (first one happened whem he was still very small, which im sure didn't fuck him up in any way whatsoever). has never entered a church since then, still knows some prayers that were burned into his brain and he can't forget no matter how hard he tries, genuinely believes that god never existed and if he did then he's fucking dead, and has a fascination w satanic symbols to this day that will probably never go away.

he had a somewhat mixed reputation growing up. in his tween years, he used the fact that he was considered "demonic" when little to scare and fuck with people who otherwise might have caused him problems. he got into constant fights in his childhood and his teen years, both because bullies would wrongly assume he'd be an easy target and then get punched and bitten and scratched until they cried, or because he was trying to protect someone else from being bullied. soon figured out that just not engaging unless someone else threw the first punch was a good way to de-escalate situations and keep him from getting in too much trouble (since he wouldn't be the one who "started it"), which was what made him begin to develop his stoic attitude. he started learning to control his anger because the people he wanted to protect were scared of him bc of his tendency to lash out, and because he realized that being in control of his emotions meant that he would fuck up less in high stress situations and make it easier to calm the people around him as well.

he got in constant trouble w the local authorities, being continuously searched and brought into the police station for a p big list of petty crimes (vandalism, theft, underage drinking, drug use, trespassing, public indecency, etc), but noticed that he was treated much more leniently than his POC friends who did much less shit than he did. which was also when his hatred for cops solidified.

life wasn't easy on him. he did a lot of questionable shit to get by, and he knows a lot of people in the same situations as him, so his morals are extremely gray as a consequence of it. he's not going to judge you for doing a bad. everyone does what they can to survive and survival is not a noble thing. he's extremely lenient w things that most ppl find unacceptable, and has a very clear understanding in his mind that everything is situational. which is why murder can be ok, and cannibalism can be ok, and any number of horrible things humans do can be justifiable and acceptable no matter what society says.

so he's not going to judge anyone on the cast of slsq for doing the things they do if they can justify it. but i can also very clearly see him killing the ones that do it just for the sake of it. with one exception: he will never murder the one he loves.

which is why i am sooooo excited to pair him up w OD, the one that kills p much without discrimination, and watch all the loopholes he forms in his mind to try and justify to himself why he's turning a blind eye to someone killing innocent people. he might try to nudge OD into having a smidge more of a standard, but if OD threatens to leave bc of it or gets too annoyed he's dropping it in a second. who knows, maybe OD is the one who might be able to convince him to drop the good guy "act" instead. who needs morals when you have love amirite?

i wouldn't say Vulpine is a yandere (there's too much effort to make sure that he and his loved one(s) are equals in every possible way for that i think), but with the borderline unhealthy, undying, nearly desperate devotion he develops for the ppl he falls for i think it's a pretty close thing tbh. he would do anything for his lover. anything. and he expects nothing in return. he just wants them to be happy, no matter what.

anyway uuuuhh there's so much more i can say abt Vulpine, i didnt even touch on his relationship w substance abuse or when he got arrested or his family, but this is already enormous, so have some specific slsq stuff instead (all of this is p much slsq specific tbh, Ari's backstory changes a lot depending on what story i decide to put him next, but some plot beats and traumas always stay the same): his mask of choice is similar to Cold's, a blank black mask, and his weapon of choice is a hunting knife. his specialty is informant (i was very tempted to make him a jack of all trades, bc one of his main characteristics is his adaptability, but i could NEVER envision him accepting doing that much for Carter. he would rather die), as mentioned previously his personality type is going to be apathetic w a side of caustic (still dont know if that's the right name but oh well), his clothing style is punk and practical and he wore ripped jeans for this bc he didn't know what he was getting himself into and he's soooo mad he didn't wear his cargo pants instead. he's actually kinda similar to Cold when it comes to superficial personality traits (stays quiet and observant most of the time, stealth killer, has a whole thing going on w shadows and anonymity and the mask, also exudes a intimidating aura that often scares people and gives him negative charisma. another reason he's not a jack of all trades is bc he'd make for an AWFUL bait)

and when in deep romance, if OD keeps trying to annoy him, he'll just kiss them to shut them up. it might just end up encouraging that kind of behavior long therm, but it works as a short therm solution so he doesn't rlly care-

(pt 1.)

Oh there is so much I could say that would veer into major spoilers for Overdose's route and beyond.

The Caustic personality is cynical, bitter, and sarcastic. Aggressive options will be separate and compatible with every personality type (aggressive doormats have been...interesting to write. imagine the most neurotic chihuahua-)

And concerning mc and Carter....there aren't a lot of job opportunities in Newcreed that aren't y'know, soul crushing drudgery, no matter what your relationship with Carter was, it was enough to pay rent if mc lived alone, or enough to afford necessities if they lived with the bastard.

And getting into Newcreed itself, The city is rotten. Crime rate is so high and the mayor doesn't do shit, the police don't do shit and the roads are fucked, but hey, expansive public transit and rent is low as hell. A lot of people immigrate to Newcreed (Cold and Sweetheart and his family are examples of this) because its a cheap place to live and the barriers for employment are little to none.

[employee052]

ozzies long-ass TSP ramble

For context, a few days ago i was in a thinky mood when i watched this video on Valve catwalks. it mentioned death of the author, and while ive heard of it, I didnt understand what it meant until after the video explained it. So i got thinking. the following was a series of messages I sent to my friends on a discord server im in (with the exception of the last part bc i just thought of it now even tho im sick) that i compiled for yall into sections so its easier to read. these are just my thoughts and could be totally wrong, i just wanted to share aksjdh :P (plus this is my second time im posting this so there might be some inconsistencies)

(ramble under the cut so yall dont get a massive wave of text on your dash)

"smth smth death of the author smth smth reviews smth smth interpretations smth smth skip button"

like idk if this was obvious to everyone else n im just finally getting it or not, but the skip button ending being about the narrator seeing the negative reviews causing him to create the button in order to appease them, which said reviews ended up making him believe he was being preachy and obnoxious and unfunny, but as a result, he ends up believing it and trying to appease those interpretations rather than be more confident of his dialogue and what it means to him(whatever he may believe) and ending up dying at the end bc of it being a kind of literal version a death of an author of sorts

---

im just thinking about how timekeeper/settings person/432/whatever is really only interested in the player, but not stanley himself. and if the narrator ends up dying (or decaying at least in my interpretation) during the skip button, could the same be said about stanley as a character as well?

like we never see stanleys model as us, we dont see his feet when we look down, and the only time we see him in game is either as a hand during the bucket escape pod ending, the mariella endings, and the not stanley ending. and the last two are cutscenes. for all we know, stanley could have died at some point during the skip button after the narrator did and we would never know bc we cant see him

but since 432's desk being at the end of the epilogue which happens post skip button ending, i would have said that was the first time we ever see him interact with the game internally rather than asking for the time. but i do remember someone suggesting that the timekeeper was the one who removed the door in the skip button in order to kill the narrator off and get stanley/the player away from him in order to talk more

with that thought in mind, that would mean TK had to kill stanley and the narrator off in order to be able to lead the game, push beyond the barriers of a narrator and character and just talk to the player, one on one

---

it makes me wonder if what the curator said in the museum ending holds more weight

like, she talks to the player as well. both she and TK talk to the player themselves instead of stanley the character. and when she says "When every path you can walk has been created for you long in advance, death becomes meaningless, making life the same. Do you see now? Do you see that Stanley was already dead from the moment he hit start?"

stanley's function is a character in the narrators story, a literary device to propel the game forward. the narrator makes the race track, and stanley drives. without the narrator where would stanley go or do, without stanley who would move the story along?

"Can you see? Can you see how much they need one another? No, perhaps not. Sometimes these things cannot be seen."

and yet, hes dead, just like the curator said. because no matter what, he's never going to be able to truly make his own decisions. the confusion ending lays out how all the endings are scripted despite what the narrator believes and acts, its all predetermined.

and in a sense, the narrators dead too. no matter what stanley tries to do to change the story, or the narrator changes to the game in order for stanley to react to, its been planned long in advance for the eventuality. every word, every event. and with stanley's deaths, it ends up just bringing them back to the beginning again, "What exactly did the Narrator think he was going to accomplish?" if they always come back to the same preplanned paths, to the illusion of free will, it doesnt matter regardless. death doesnt become a statement, it becomes an inconvenience.

"But listen to me, you can still save these two. You can stop the program before they both fail. Push escape, and press quit. There's no other way to beat this game. As long as you move forward, you'll be walking someone else's path. Stop now, and it'll be your only true choice."

The only way to save both Stanley and The Narrator is by not letting the story play out to begin with. To beat the game, which means to let the game end after you win.

and yet,

the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is neve-

In a game where there is no ending that stops the game in its entirety, where everything will keep on happening again and again and the end is never the end, the only way to beat it is to make a choice as yourself the player, not stanley the character.

because he doesnt get a choice, the narrator doesnt get a choice. they think they do, but they dont. the only way to beat the game is to not play it. (which makes sense given that there are achievements involving not playing the game in both the 2013 HD remaster and 2022 Ultra Deluxe)

both Stanley and The Narrator are two sides of the same coin that make up The Stanley Parable, and the only way to use the coin is to give it away.

maybe thats why the true ending of the game with credits and stuff like that, is the Not Stanley Ending.

You the player have successfully broken the fourth wall from the outside in, even though that ending was planned like all the others (ie, the game allowing you to disconect the phone), you break the illusion of being stanley the character, which the game ends up booting you out of stanley as it cant handle the "narrative contradiction".

maybe thats why the escape pod ending has the sign that reads "both the player and the narrator must be present in order to leave". its not stanley, its the player, us.

maybe thats why that ending is one of the most cruel. the only way to get there is to leave the narrator trapped in the boss' office. there's no way to get him to the escape pod. the end is never the end.

---

(this part was the new idea i just had today so this might not make sense i appologize)

going back to the beginning of this ramble about the death of the author and such. perhaps there is a way to get the narrator out.

with thoughts about interpretations and with he idea of the "death of the author", all of us have our own interpretations of the TSP characters. whether its design, or relationship wise, or characterization, or what have you. The Narrator in my head is different from you reading this, and that narrator is different from another persons perspective, and definitely our narrators are different to the one that lives in Davey Wreden's head, or Kevan Brighting, or anyone who has even heard of the stanley parable.

and that's not a bad thing! there can be many similarities to the characters that our interpretations share, some more common than others and some that make no sense at all, but for the most part we all have different interpretations of the characters.

I read a book called Book Simulator (The Reader's guide to not reading) by Chris Yee on stream once. The VOD is gone now. But I discovered the book because I heard the guy writing/the narrator of sorts for the book was written like the Stanley Parable Narrator.

It didnt help that Kevan brighting voiced over the commercial for it too askjdh

but back to the book. this will contain somewhat spoilers for it since it brings up a moment at the end of the book so feel free to stop here if you dont want to be spoiled

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basically, in Book Simulator, Booksi (The book's instructional narrator on how to fake read at the start of the book) is arguing with The Narrator (no not ours, but the general narrator who speaks in the third person), however, its revealed by The Narrator that Booksi has a plan to take over the world by inhabiting more book simulators and distributing them across the world. But, the reader could kill off the booksi that they have in their hands that they are reading, to quote:

"Or was he the original Booksi? Maybe not. Maybe the original Booksi had been vanquished long ago, and the reader was now facing one of the many copies roaming the world. Both Booksi and the Narrator knew the answer to this question, but neither would reveal the truth."

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Taking from Book Simulator the concept of multiple iterations of one character existing in different copies of the media they originate from, maybe in a way that's how the Narrator may die in the stanley parable, forever stuck to repeat the same endings with the illusion of free will, but he lives on somewhat for everyone that has seen or heard of him in any capacity.

this may sound a bit preachy (oh the irony) but bare with me:

The Original Narrator from The Stanley Parable is dead, dead in the sense that he and Stanley are stuck within the game, given the illusion of free choice, and unable to leave nor do anything to try and escape, is also alive in the sense that we the players perception of The Narrator lives on in our minds.

The Narrator from the game might be stuck, but the Narrator i see in my head, the one i designed and draw and think of is perfectly fine and alive as ever.

and the same goes with you and anyone else who has heard of the narrator. their interpretation is still unique and different to them even if it all comes from the same media. he may not be exactly the same as the original, but hes still there. and in a way, hes free.

(man typing this last segment down makes me feel like a gd priest, and/or someone talking abt the barbie movie akjdhkjasdh so sorry if doesnt make sense at all :P)