#i can explain why if anyone wants to know
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askerror87 · 3 days ago
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Okay I know this is pedantic but Ramb isn’t British just for the sake of it- there’s a really important reason for that that actually says a lot about him as a character and why he ended up like this. I was going to write this out in the replies but I realized that this was going to need a visual aid.
Most of the Plugboys we see in Chapter 2 are not only visibly supposed to remind you of a cat, but they are distinctly designed off of the Type B outlet that most Americans would be familiar with.
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(Obviously, we see a variety of expressions from them throughout the game, which seem to primarily take inspiration from Type A, B, G, and possibly I outlets)
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Ramb, however, is designed to be Like the Chapter Two Plugboys But Different BECAUSE he isn’t an American Outlet.
He’s a Type K power strip that Kris and Azzy stole from the Library.
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Type Ks are distinct because of the roundness of their first two prongs and the semi-circle curvature of the third, giving them that signature ‘smile’ that Type Bs inherently lack because of how their plugs are shaped. They are also, as you may have guessed, very much European.
Ramb isn’t British and a Dog just for the sake of it- he’s Designed Like That because while Type Bs and Type Ks are visually very similar, they are inherently incompatible. You can’t put a European plug into an American outlet and vice versa for a variety of reasons, primarily because you will probably fry the thing you’re trying to plug in. To explain this as simply as possible, British plugs are created in such a way where they include their own fuse (which is why the head is so big). Inherently, they are simply a more powerful and superior device because of how they are made. He’s also very portable because of this- power strips are supposed to allow you to Put More Things In Them.
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As you can imagine, though… this is only the case if there’s actually something FOR THEM TO PLUG INTO. Whoever ordered Ramb (possibly Miss Boom) accidentally bought the wrong type of power strip. That’s also probably why no one from the Cyber World ever said anything about him- why he was never missed by anyone.
We see this foreshadowed by the Spamton Sweepstakes and its 2025 update. What’s the URL allowing us to access the greenroom page? /ramb. And yet, all traces of him are missing in it… beyond the door that Ramb guards for Kris stating plainly that ‘No one will shed a tear for him.’
Almost like he no longer served a purpose, no? Almost like he vanished without a trace???
He's supposed to be a shopkeeper but that job was delegated to a vending machine because Tenna didn’t want him handling POINTs. He's supposed to work the green room but he quit. He's supposed to be in the computer lab but no one noticed or cared that he went missing- nobody mentioned him in Chapter 2, nobody mentions him after you go to your Castle Town in Chapter 4. He has all the markings of a secret boss, talking about freedom, chaos, and remarking about big shots, and facilitates play via a game (games are supposed to be fun, don't let it feel like a job, okay?). AND YET-
He doesn’t give you a shadow crystal. No, that’s for the REAL secret boss. He doesn’t give you an item. That’s for the other REAL secret boss.
Something, SOMEONE, meant to be extremely helpful deprived of a use.
Jesus Christ is Toby good at making characters.
Deltarune is great because I never thought we'd get a character even more confusing than like Spamton and Seam and shit and yet even above all the baffling things happening in chapters 3 and 4 This fucking guy still takes the crown for me
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batsybat91 · 1 day ago
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What if... and hear me out... reader doesn't want to get married but each member of 141 wants to respectfully convince reader to let them put a ring on it?
Bonus points if you also include poly!141 arguing over who gets to be legally married to reader since a lot of countries don't allow polygamous marriages
Hello, my darling Vex!! This ask has me rubbing my hands together like a dubious fly, not gonna lie. Hunching over my screen like a creature as I write this.
NSFW - MINORS DNI
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"First of all," Johnny begins, flicking a finger out. "Who was it that picked our girl up? Hmm? Need I remind you that it was me? So, if we do manage to convince 'er that we should get married - legally - it should be tae me!"
"That's not how this works, Johnny," grumbles Price.
"If she's going to say yes, which I doubt, by the way, I think it would be to me," Kyle says.
Johnny shoots him a glare that could break glass. Kyle returns with an equally mean stare, crossing his arms over his chest. "I do not agree," Johnny scoffs.
"What do you have that I don't?" Kyle wrinkles his nose at Johnny.
"A good accent an' a good cock," Johnny replies confidently.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Price laughs. "Johnny, I'm not saying you don't have a nice cock. But you do not know that woman if you think she's going to marry you for your prick, you're dead wrong. Besides, if that was one of her deciding factors, she'd marry me."
"Sorry, Cap." Simon shakes his head. "Gonna have to refute you there. Since we brought dicks into this - ahem, Johnny - our little lady would marry me."
"Are we really bringing dick size into this?" Kyle rolls his eyes. "I don't think the size-"
"The size definitely matters," Johnny interrupts.
"Aren't we talking about who's going to marry her?" Kyle huffs.
"Yes, and the size of yer prick is a likely factor in deciding marriage!" Johnny exclaims, as if everyone else here is stupid.
"I don't think so," Simon says. "I think she'll choose who's the most logical man to marry in her mind. She might choose Price because of his maturity. Might choose Johnny because of his humor. Might choose Kyle because of his kind nature. It's up in the air."
"Well, why don't we try to convince her to actually get married first, then we can squabble over the legalities?" Price offers.
"That's the easy part," Johnny sighs like a man scorned. "The hard part is going to be convincing her which one o' us tae marry."
When you come home to your boys, they are all waiting for you in the living room. Usually, when you get off work, they're all off doing their own thing. It's rare to see them all lined up on the sofa and armchair.
"Hello, love," Simon greets.
"We'd like to talk to you," Price says.
"Jesus," you chuckle nervously. "Am I in trouble?"
"Nae, not at all!" Johnny exclaims. "We just wanted to talk to ye, as a family."
You narrow your eyes at him, but proceed to the living room. You sit on the coffee table so you can face all four of your boyfriends. God, that's such a bizarre statement, you think, scrubbing a hand over your face. Some girls don't even get one boyfriend. And here I am with bloody four!
"We want to marry you," Price says, calm and collected as ever.
Your brows shoot up. "I don't want to get married. And isn't that illegal? For people like- like us, anyway?"
"We were thinkin' that you'd get married to one of us," Simon explains, his voice like gravel covered in honey. "But still call the other three your husbands, if you will."
You scratch your chin, trying to wrap your mind around the logistics of that. "But then... you'd all be jealous of the one I married. And there would be fighting."
"We love you," Kyle says earnestly. "We love each other. I don't think there'll be problems."
"Whoever you choose to marry also recognizes that we're all equals in the relationship," Price adds. "Listen, love, it's been a year and a half. We want to put a ring on that finger."
You hum thoughtfully. "But I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings..."
"You wouldn't be," Simon assures you.
"We discussed it." Kyle nods sagely.
You think about it. If they don't like the results, it'll be their fault and not yours. Usually, your boys are pretty good at understanding that. And you'd get the honor of calling all four of them your husband. God, it seems like the beginning of a TLC reality show. You pinch the bridge of your nose, weighing your options.
"Well, I'll marry whoever buys me the ring first!" you declare. "I want it to be a nice one, too! It doesn't have to be three months of your damn salary, but I also don't want a shitty one from a thrift store."
And that? That is when the race begins. You just made this whole marriage much easier on their hearts - and if you know anything about those boys, the competition will be heated
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vanillaxbambi · 2 days ago
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+*#behind the camera — ch. 2 || lee heeseung
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+*pairing: childhood crush-> idol!heeseung x make-up artist!femreader
+* wc: 6k
+*contains: phone sex(? more like a very suggestive and dominant!heeseung talking hot and bothered while reader is a flustered mess), praise, degradation if you squint, and guided orgasm. mature language. mdni.
synopsis: forget the NDA, heeseung's reaching out. blatantly, flirting and offering more than just simple fan-service. your childhood crush isnt just calling you to catch up. he's international enhypen all star idol, lee heeseung— ready to show you, famous youtube mua, that he's no longer the little 13 year old boy you rejected on a field trip.
m i k a 🌷: when i tell u how much this man suits this scenario, i might explode. in my mind, i will always see him dating a fan irl. like bsfr, i need to see him with someone famous or an engene.
🎀taglist: No pressure to you beautiful flowers to read at all! I love youuuu🌷💝 @heegyukeluv @fatherwound @str8ykids @twancingyunhao @nctrenjunie @allygator-98 @jay-scenarios @hansungie01 @jadedxfemme @sagegreenhairclip @lveegsoi @srhnyx @simj4ke @jiyeons-closet @hxonieverse
couldnt tag :( @ninistranaut
chapter 1 << chapter 2 >> chapter 3 soon...
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chapter 2.
your phone blares loudly with the facetime ringer you’ve specifically set for him. although you've preemptively prepared yourself by setting a very distinctive ringtone for his contact… it still makes you want to jump out of your skin.
you realize that he isn’t allowed to date and this is probably the only form of communication with the opposite sex that he is allowed to have.
no one in the company was going to ever know that you have heeseung’s private number. especially when he’s entrusted you to keeping this a secret.
on top of violating the NDA, by having his personal number, you were genuinely bargaining more consequences than your careers could handle.
The ringing jars you back into the moment, with your finger accepting the call. Immediately you can recognize that he’s in a single recording room. The one that he is usually seen talking to engene on Weverse.
His eyes dart around the screen, seemingly adjusting something before landing his full attention on you. “Hi, y/n.”
It’s nearly as jarring as the first time you heard his voice in your studio. His voice sounded even better coming through the speakers of your phone.
“Wow.” You start with a smile. “I feel like I just won a fancall.”
“Yeah?” Oh. God. “What should oppa do for you?”
Your face twists as you cringe. “I will never ever call you that. We’re literally the same age.”
”I’m a few months older than you. That counts.” He begins to lean forward and adjust the lighting on his desk.
“No, actually though,” You catch your thought before you forget to ask him later. “Do you actually like doing fancalls?” You fiddle with the corner of your phone’s case. ”You seem to flirt with every single fan that you interact with.”
“I have to.” He sets the phone up in a very familiar position to how he does his Weverse lives. “I’m engene’s boyfriend. I play to everyone’s fantasies and little requests.”
“Oh.” You’re not sure why but that doesn’t quite sit well with you. “Is that why you were so blatantly flirting with me after I told you that I was a fan?”
“Hmm,” He actually considers before answering. “Yes, and no.”
”It can’t be both.”
“Well, It’s more of a force of habit. Occupational.” He explains the first part. “But I can’t lie when I say that I wanted to mess with you in case you recognized me at all.”
”Anyone would recognize you.” You also prop your phone up against something. “I didn’t think that you recognized me at all.”
”A man never forgets a woman who rejected him.” Heeseung’s voice drops into a slightly serious tone. “Do you not like eye contact?”
This again.
You realize the whole time that you haven’t once looked directly at your phone. Mainly just around the room and at your hands.
”I think it’s cute how shy you get around me when around others you're so confident and charming.” He points out while seemingly typing on his pc.
Music begins to play; he finally sits back after finding the right song for the background.
“Be honest,” he says suddenly. “You’re used to being flirted with.”
“I’m not–”
“I saw the episode of Wooyoung from Ateez complimenting your eyes while you were applying his foundation.” Heeseung levels his eyes with what seems to be your line of sight. Searching for your reaction. “You seemed to like it.”
“It’s not that I liked it… I was being engaging and polite.” You fixate on your finger tips and what they could be touching to keep yourself distracted. “Lets not forget that you’re a professional boyfriend, and you’re just an occupational flirt. I deal with men like you regularly.”
“Oh, Yeah? You still answered a facetime call from a man like me anyway.” Heeseung crosses his arms, clearly amused.
If he was just going to make you feel like your head was going to explode, you thought it would probably be smart to cut the conversation short. “Why did you facetime me, heeseung?”
“I missed you. It’s been a whole week since I last saw you.” Heeseung pulls out a samsung phone from his pocket. “We’re viral, you know?”
“I saw.” You smile, warmth spreading over your cheeks. “Apparently engenes are shipping us with each other. The edits on tiktok are pretty good. Speaking of flirting, I was hoping that my team cut out a few parts. Like you mentioning our past…” Until now, you haven’t sat and read through the comment section of your video together. The very reason being that you wished you could entirely ignore all the negative feedback and death threats sent by sasaengs.
“Yeah, but now they know what I look like when I’m showing interest in someone.” Heeseung lifts a knowing brow. “Feeds a lot of fantasies.”
”Oh trust. They have plenty of those videos way before you and I interacted.”
“You keep up with my content like that, y/n?” His brow flicks up in amusement.
“Oh please, I’m a k-beauty makeup artist. Anyone who's keeping up with kpop is bound to get all of your trends and viral videos in their feed.”
Heeseung just grins, not even pretending to deny it. “Regret rejecting me now that I’m famous?”
You scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself. I almost declined.”
“Almost,” he echoes, that same smug glint flickering in his eyes. “But you didn’t.”
There’s a pause. The kind of silence that isn’t awkward—just heavy. Familiar. You can hear him exhale, the faint shift of his hoodie when he leans back in the studio chair. His mic must still be on, because the low hum of audio equipment buzzes faintly beneath the slow r&b song playing in the background.
“I didn’t tell you this when we saw each other last,” Heeseung clears his throat a bit before continuing. “but while you were touching my face with your soft little hands, I was trying so hard not to keep staring at your lips. You’ve got such pretty shaped ones…”
You make a sound between a laugh and a groan, pressing your face into your hands. “Heeseung.”
“What? I’m just saying.” You can hear the smile in his voice, and it sends heat straight to your ears. “You were concentrating so hard enough to start pouting. It was cute.”
“I was working.”
“I could see that And I was trying to behave.”
You finally glance at the screen. He’s watching you again—of course he is. Arms crossed, mouth tilted just slightly at the corner, like he’s waiting to see what expression you’ll make next.
“That’s funny, because it felt like the opposite,” you say, sitting up straighter. “You turned my makeup video into your own version of a dating show.”
His brow lifts, tongue slightly poking his cheek with a faint smile. “You didn’t seem to mind.”
You pause. You really, really shouldn’t engage. But the pull is magnetic, and you’re tired of pretending you’re not curious too.
“I didn’t mind,” you admit quietly. “I just didn’t know how to respond.”
Heeseung tilts his head at that. “Why not?”
“Because…” You trail off, fingers toying with the hem of your sweatshirt. “You’re not supposed to talk to me like that. Not on camera. Not when we have a hundred people waiting for either of us to mess up.”
His smile fades just slightly—not gone, just thinner. “But we’re not on camera now.”
Your chest tightens a little at that. He’s right. This isn’t staged. There are no lights, no cameras, no mics hidden in lapels. Just your phone screen and the boy you once lied to because the truth would’ve hurt too much to carry with you across the ocean.
“I didn’t think we’d ever talk again after I left Korea,” you say, surprising even yourself with the softness in your voice.
Heeseung leans forward now, elbows resting on the desk in front of him. “I thought about messaging you for years,” he says simply. “But I figured if you wanted to talk, you would’ve at least messaged me through kakao.”
“I did remember you,” you say instantly. Then, quieter: “I just wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”
He lets that hang in the air.
It stretches between you—ten years of what-ifs, buried under makeup brushes, video thumbnails, and late-night music recordings. you want to say something else to not make it sound as pathetic as it came out but you cant.
“You think I would forget my first one sided crush?”
That’s the thing. It was far from that.
“It wasn’t.”
“What wasn’t?”
“Your crush.” You clarify, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “I didn’t reject you because you weren’t my type.”
Heeseung blinks before a slow smile spreads across his face. “I figured. You left not too long after the trip.” His teeth catch his bottom lip as if to contain his thoughts.
“I still remember everything.” Heeseung says. “You were the first person who didn’t care that i was just … really good at things. You know, before enhypen. There was a time that I didn’t have enough money for the vending machine outside of the practice rooms and you ended up handing me some change while walking by with your friends.” Heeseung chuckles to himself as if he replayed it in his mind. “You were so sweet to everyone.”
You swallow, the words catching somewhere in your chest. There’s a pinch in your throat that feels suspiciously like nostalgia trying to become something else.
He continues, but gentler this time. “I didn’t call to freak you out. I just… wanted to see you without everyone else around.”
“This feels a bit too… vulnerable.” You confess.
“I know,” he murmurs. “ I like it.”
The silence returns.
But this time, it doesn’t feel so heavy.
Just a little too comfortable. A little too warm for something that’s supposed to be professional.
“I should go,” you say, but you don’t move to end the call.
“I know,” he echoes again, eyes still on you. “But you won’t.”
Your thumb hovers over the red end button for a second too long. And then finally, you say:
“Goodnight, Heeseung.”
He tilts his head like he’s memorizing how you look—like he wants to pause this exact moment and tuck it somewhere safe. “Goodnight, y/n.”
The call ends.
And your apartment is suddenly too quiet.
Your fingers still curl around the phone like he’s still on the other end.
And that stupid ringtone?
You don’t even consider changing it.
a week slips through like sand. you arent sure why but whenever olive or rose begin to mention the new shift your career will be taking from this point forward… you hate to think that the time you’ll spend with heeseung will be temporary.
the sting doesn’t exactly register with you as much when the work and planning begins to pile up and you have to force yourself to compartmentalize your emotions away from this job.
Hybe sends you more information about the tour dates, concept meetings, and more non-disclosure contracts that legally bind you to shutting the fuck up about anything that will ever happen between you and any of the enhypen members.
it’s been a week since your forbidden facetime with international idol lee heeseung. most of your interactions are limited to brushing shoulders in the busy halls during promotions, 3 second long eye contact in the office floor, and brief greetings when leaving from signing a few final disclosures.
today was different.
heeseung manages to catch your eye in the cafeteria before mouthing, “I’ll call you.”
you hate to hold him to his word but the butterflies in your stomach can’t tell a difference.
lee heeseung wanted to call you.
you nod with a blank look on your face. something stuck between surprise and panic. this, makes him chuckle— biting his stupid lip again as he scans you up and down before leaving the cafeteria.
your thighs instinctively press together from the rush of anticipation that flushes through your body.
god, he hasn’t done anything. fucking get it together.
that night you’re trying hard not to stare at the time.
6pm. nothing.
7pm. silence.
8pm… a promotional advertisement from olive young and a message from Olive asking if you were free this weekend to get drinks.
you figured you needed a distraction. so you call Olive to bide time.
it’s not long until you’re laughing and getting unready with her. she’s cracking jokes about what might happen on the tour and what the other make up artists will say while she’s gone.
frankly, olive is the only person in the world who would understand what you’re going through and exactly what you’re risking if you keep allowing this boundary line to fade into the background with heeseung.
olive was never one to care about rules and regulations anyway. “You only have one life, girl.” olive squirts micellular water onto a cotton round. “If you’re out here getting cozy with a childhood friend; who just happens to be Enhypen’s Lee Heeseung, that’s your business.”
her nonchalant seriousness makes you laugh as you apply toner to your clean, bare face. “it’s a bit embarrassing liv,” You sigh, patting the toner onto your cheeks. “my fucking pussy clenched just from him looking me up and down today.”
“Your what?!” olive’s mouth hangs open.
”I’m deadass.”
“He did what?!?!” she starts giggling. “i love this man for you.”
“oh stop, he’s probably just flirting with me because he feeds off of the attention.”
“Oh shut up, bitch. You keep giving it to him too.” She deadpans.
“I can’t ever live around you, can i?”
olive pouts at the screen with a little kiss. “not when you’re acting like you don’t want to have this man fuck you against—“
your phone rings.
his contact name pops up.
FaceTime Video Lee Heeseung...
“oh shit. that’s him isn’t it?” you can hear the smile in olives voice as you stare at the incoming call.
“fuck!” you panic, taking a look at yourself in the mirror. you’ve taken off your make up, your skincare routine is almost done, and you’ve got on this ridiculously huge Sanrio character headband to keep your hair from getting wet. “I look busted right now!”
“I’m hanging up now, girl! good luck! love you!” Olive squeals before hanging up.
The call ends and you’re scrambling to get out of your restroom.
it’s still ringing.
you take a glance at yourself in your wall mirror in your room.
shit.
you’re in your bra, head band still on top of your head, you looked bare. stripped down. not a touch of make up on your face.
the ringing stops.
then your phone pings.
Lee Heeseung you always shower this late or are you actually sleeping?
Lee Heeseung got home from practice. call me back if you’re up, y/n.
you throw on a large tee, gripping your phone as you go back and forth on actually hitting the facetime icon.
Lee Heeseung you looked so fucking good today by the way.
you hit the icon right as the message banner shows on your screen.
oh my god.
heeseung’s face appears on your screen and he looks as if he just freshly showered. hair slightly wet, face clean, yet his eyes seem tired.
“there she is.” Heeseung’s voice fills your ears with the huskiness of his busy day. “you look cute.”
you see yourself on the screen. you look out of sorts. caught off guard and entirely not in your element.
“you just take off your make-up, y/n?”
you were still wearing your sanrio headband.
he chuckles lowly and from what you can make out, he seems to be sat at a desk. if you weren’t still flustered from his text, you would immediately start going on about how he really needs to get actual furniture and decorate like someone actually lives in his room.
all that comes out is: “yeah.”
“you okay?” heeseung is mildly amused but you can’t help but notice that his eyes blink slow and heavy.
“just didn’t expect you to call so late.” you slip the headband from your head and ruffle your hair a bit. ”you look tired.”
“i said i would call.” he ruffles his hair as well. “i’m usually pretty tired after long practice days— insomnia still keeps me up most of the time though, no matter how exhausted i am.”
“you didn’t have to call me.” you feel your heart tug a little. the same way that it did the first time when he fell asleep in your make up chair. “you need to relax and rest if you want any sleep tonight.”
”i’m relaxing just fine being on the phone with you, y/n.” heeseung leans back in his computer chair. face glowing from his monitor screen and what’s playing on it. “i missed you since our last conversation.”
“woah,” you lift a brow. “i would stop right there, heeseung, you sound like you’re using your professional boyfriend skills on me.”
“if thats what you want me to be for you sweetheart, then i can be whatever you want.”
the nickname drops like a bomb and you hate that your face feels warmer by the rising second of him staring at you as if he didn’t just rock your world.
“heeseung…”
“what? you answered the phone looking so cute with your sanrio headband on, huge shirt, bare face, and don't expect me to say something about it?”
“you just can’t stop, can you?” you try to deflect, knowing that you’re looking a mess.
“i like seeing how flustered you get.”
you feel like a simple minded fangirl.
the shy, talented but popular boy he once was is long gone. replaced with this suave, confident and flirtatious man. the difference jarred you. you wanted to be the type who bounces back from cute little flirty jabs but coming from him was a different level.
you get the fantasy.
why fans purchase hundreds of albums to get the opportunity to have a mere 2 minute long phone call.
and yet, here he was offering his time to you for free.
his eyes blink slower and his smile doesn’t necessarily meet his eyes.
the butterflies in your stomach stop once you realize that you don’t actually want this version of him.
this was something he always does. something he has to do.
flirting with engenes and appealing to every request. never actually being himself and constantly bending to the will of the fans.
”hey so…” you find yourself starting to say something that you might regret. but the greater the risk the bigger reward. “you really don’t have to do that with me, heeseung.”
he pauses and you can see that he adjusts in his seat. “am i making you uncomfortable?”
“no, its actually very flattering and sweet,” you admit. “but you’re off the clock. you don’t need to give me fan service.”
heeseung’s brows shoot up before a slow smile spreads to his face, this time it meets his eyes. “its more natural for me to talk to fans like this.”
“im not just a fan." you frown.
heeseungs eyes soften and he leans back into his chair. "i know...you're right." he bites his lip slowly before taking a sharp breath. "sorry im tired and im just doing what i've practiced. occupationa—"
"occupational habit." you complete. musing his sentence with a sense of understanding. " I get it."
"how should we talk to each other then y/n?"
"like im not looking for an interaction. like im just a friend who enjoys your company and not your fame." you suggest.
heeseung tilts his head and nods. "i'd like that actually."
"have you ever wanted to just exist and not have to charm anyone?"
"sometimes, yeah." heeseung presses his pink lips into a flatline.
"you dont need to play idol." you turn off your main light and adjust your lamp on your desk. "we're old classmates. it must be nice for you to be normal."
"alright," you visibly see his entire body relaxing and he no longer holds the tension that he did when you called back. "its lame. the first real interaction i have with my old crush is me trying to give her fan service vice." he humors.
"technically, our third ."
"i was also giving you fan service the last time as well, soo not very impressive on my part." he chuckles, moving to type on his computer.
two more clicks and soft music plays.
"im not gonna complain, like i said; its flattering and sweet." You bring your legs up into the chair to get more comfortable. "what do you do to wind down after a long day?"
"you want the real answer or the broadcast answer?"
your eyes widen. "depends..." your mouth slowly running dry. "do you go for a run? long shower? game?"
the corner of his lips twitch. "sure. those answers work."
his tone of voice shifts to something suggestive. playful. deep.
this was taking a turn. fast.
“oh.” you nod slowly, a bit awkwardly before he bursts out laughing.
“god, you’re so fucking cute.” heeseungs eyes crease and this is instantly your favorite expression on his face. “i just scroll on my phone and game, y/n. I’m a very simple man.”
with your cheeks warm and hands fidgeting, you manage a calm expression. “same here. just more scrolling than gaming.”
a silence creeps in and you try to think of something to ask, say, or even occupy yourself with. heeseung’s undivided attention sort of makes you uneasy and his habit of searching for direct eye contact isnt exactly grounding.
he breaks the silence first. “It’s getting late, y/n… i don’t want to keep you up.”
“you’re not, i dont have to be at the company until 8am.”
“my show time is 7.”
you looks over at the digital clock on your night stand. “oh shit, you need to be in bed right now. its almost midnight.”
“insomnia, remember?” he brushes a loose lock of hair from his brow. “couldnt fall asleep even if I wanted to.”
“well, i would feel better if you laid in bed at least.”
“Already trying to see me in the sheets, y/n? damn, i didn’t know you were so forward.” he jokes before his monitor light flickers with a pink light. “I kind of don’t want to yet. i hate being told what to do.”
you realize he’s finally teasing you the way he used to with his friends back in the day. “don’t blame me then when you’re exhausted and tired while i work on your face tomorrow.”
“you’re already working with us so soon before the tour?” he smoothly changes the topic.
“yeah, sort of need to immerse myself and understand all of your faces before i assign people to all the members.”
“you assigned to me?” his smug little expression flashes on his features.
“you wish.” you smirk.
heeseung looks you up and down through the screen, the same way he did in the cafeteria. “why don’t we both lay in bed, hmm?”
“like right now?”
“yeah, cmon.” Heeseung grabs his phone, shuts off his pc, and takes you to prop his phone on the night stand. “get in bed.”
he was calling the shots now?
“oh. i still need to finish my skincare…” your eyes dart around your room.
“let me watch.”
why did that sound so hot?
“go on. i’ll wait.”
you’re moving on his word. fuck, you hated that you folded so fast. just one simple change in tone is already enough to subtly show him that you liked taking orders.
“Mmh.” he quietly hums in approval as he watches you set him down somewhere on your sink. “you listen well.”
you turn away as you grab a bottle of your serum and facial mist. hoping that you could hide your reaction. “this your way of being petty after being told what to do all day?”
“no,” he calmly responds. holding his phone with one hand now and the other propped behind his head as he lays down to watch you. “just finally able to be me.”
“and what’s being you like?”
“in charge.”
oh. fuck.
he doesn’t wait for you to be speechless about it and turns his head. “take your time, y/n. i’m right here.”
after 5 excruciating minutes of you rushing through the final steps of your routine. you shut off the bathroom light and pad over to your bedroom.
“you know,” heeseungs eyes blink slowly. “i’m actually starting to get a little sleepy… something about watching you get ready for bed is so cozy.”
“you said something similar when you fell asleep in my chair.” you point out as you shuffle into your sheets.
heeseung lazily smiles before his eyes dart down. “i’ve never done that before… i was actually a little embarrassed about it.”
“i just figured you were tired.”
“I was… just your fingers were so gentle and soft… fuck, sorry.” now a strange expression reaches his eyes when you finally lay down in bed.
“about?”
“its getting late, i should hang up.” heeseung sounds uncomfortable.
oh.
“you.. okay?” you bring the comforter up higher on your torso.
he offers you a pained smile before nodding. “i’m good… just—“ he reconsiders before sighing. “i’m so fucking turned on.”
oh.
“uh—“
“your bare face, your flushed cheeks, then you climbing into bed—god, you’re killing me. it’s pathetic how deprived i am…”
“do you not have like… women for that?”
heeseung looks at you like you just said the most ridiculous thing. “with what time? dispatch follows me everywhere. my fans are insanely para-socially attached to me that even the mention of me next to another woman makes them send death threats. you think i’d be able to talk with a woman freely knowing that they’d have to go through that?”
he has a point. but also, “you’re talking with me…”
he opens his mouth before closing it again.
“what’s the difference between any other woman and me?” you ask curiously before biting on the inside of your cheek.
“our past.” heeseung blinks a few times. “and the way the public majority is actually enjoying our relationship.”
“oh? i didn’t know we had a relationship.” for some reason this conversation isn’t turning out the way you intended it to.
“well, its the closest one i have to an actual girlfriend.” heeseung makes another valid point. “what else would you call this then,y/n? you could’ve left me on read.”
“being on facetime with you doesn’t mean we’re dating.”
“no, it doesn’t,” heeseung nods contemplatively. “but it must mean something that you listened to me, finished your night routine, then got in bed with me like a good girl..”
your phone gets blurry for a second and you realize that your eye is twitching.
“you were so obedient for me, i thought maybe you were starting to enjoy me being myself.” his voice melts around your ears like spiced honey. “or should i go back to fan service heeseung and do as you say?”
“heeseung.” you try to grab hold of reality. a dream. you must be drifting off to sleep.
“yeah, baby?” fuck, he was still talking. “tell me to stop…i promise i will, if you just say the word.”
you should behave.
you should tell him no.
you should say the word and have him do the behaved, well-mannered thing.
but fuck, you weren’t going to lie to yourself and say that you aren’t just as fucking heated from the way he’s sweet talking to you.
your silence tells him everything.
“you warm, sweetheart?”
“so fucking warm….”
“yeah?” he shifts in the sheets and you can hear him bring the phone closer, the low light enough to show you the angular curves in his face. “we should fix that…”
“mhm…” you bite your lip, already getting a sense where this was going.
“aww, you look so cute all bothered because of me…” he chuckles. “just from the sound of my voice?”
“heeseung.” you gasp his name purely from the stimulation of his voice but your legs start rubbing together helplessly.
your slick slowly coating the fabric of your underwear.
“oh, fuck.” he groans. “... Needy little thing.”
your face burns but you’re passed the point of caring. the room is getting spiny… your thoughts are merely wisps of echos of his voice.
”you’re getting awfully quiet… is this too much? should i stop here?”
“no!”
heeseung’s low chuckle reverbs through your speakers. “so pathetic for me… my little makeup artist can’t lay still while she listens to my voice?”
you make a sound. something between a whimper and a whine. you hand slipping down your naval and underneath the waistband of your underwear.
when you touch the wetness leaking from you, the gasp that leaves your lips causes heeseung's brow to flick up. "oh? are you touching yourself, y/n?"
you flush, fingers slipping out and gripping your loose t-shirt.
"answer me," heeseungs voice asserts calmly. "are you touching yourself to my voice?"
you hate how breathless you sound when you reply. "yes..."
”keep going, sweetheart.”
"what?"
"i said, keep going." heeseung sits up against his bed frame. biting his lip attentively and watching your facial expressions. "i'll keep talking, you enjoy yourself."
"but, you're tired—"
"this shit turns me on, no way im leaving you hanging, y/n." heeseung breathing finally sounds labored. "now, touch your pussy for me."
youve abandoned all restraint. " do you want to see?"
"no." his reply surprises you. "i want to watch your pretty face fall apart. you take care of that needy pussy for me. i want to watch your eyes roll back when you cum."
oh. my. god.
you set up the phone where he can have full view of your torso. just enough to show him your arms reaching down to slide down your panties.
"thats it, baby... get comfortable for me."
this is when it begins. his words start leading your hands. with every flow and rise in his voice as he watches your face contort and scrunch from pleasure.
"god, you dont know how long ive been watching your youtube channel, y/n. you're so fucking beautiful... i saw one of the members watching it one day... i immediately recognized you. isnt it fate that we met again 10 years later? 10 years after you broke my 13 year old heart on that stupid field trip? " heeseung groans when you start rolling into your hand. "now look at you. fucking touching your leaking pussy to my voice. letting the boy you rejected edge you into your orgasm. fuck— i can hear how wet you are from here, baby..."
his breathing is jagged and from your peripheral vision you can see how hooded his eyes have gotten from watching you crumble.
"thats it, sweetheart. bring yourself to the edge... you look so fucking good with your eyes rolled back like that into that pretty head of yours... cmon, make a fucking mess... be my messy little cam girl, baby... give me something to get addicted to..."
you whimper loudly. gasping for air as your orgasm tips right on the edge of your tummy.
"aw... you gonna cum so soon? i didnt take you as such a sensitive baby...thats alright, pretty girl. just a little more yeah?" heeseungs smile is heard even while your eyes are rolled back. "fuck, i'd love to stretch you open while holding you down against the bed... your moans are prettier than i imagined."
"heeseung..." you whine—so, so close.
"yeah? you better fucking ask for permission before you cum, y/n."
your core flexes and your thighs begin to shake. youve never reacted this way from barely touching yourself. you need release. bad. "heeseung! please! i- i'm so close! i need to cum! please, may i cum?"
heeseung lets out a low groan before he comes closer to the speaker. "good girl...fucking cum for me. make a fucking mess all over yourself."
you squeal, hips thrusting forward in rapid succession as your orgasm barrels through.
stars flash your vision and a sheet of white blinds you as your eyes roll and twitch.
you're on another planet.
* * *
heeseung is here watching you ascend.
the satisfaction that blooms through his chest and abdomen is immense.
fuck. he gets off on watching you fall apart.
he knows he's already addicted.
he wont be able to get enough of you falling apart to his voice. "good fucking girl."
and like that, your secret relationship begins.
* * *
ch. 1 << ch.2 >> ch.3 coming soon.
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m i k a 🌷: AHHHH! LET ME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK! if there's any typos or errors… be kind, i was excited!😵‍💫🤪🌝
let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! i will try to update every 3-5 days! depending on how much work I can get done during the week! leave a comment, like, or reblog for me, love!
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lov3lycosmos · 8 hours ago
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Rumors Are True - P.S
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genre: smut
pairings: virgin nerd!seonghwa x fem!reader
synopsis: after hearing what people always sex about nerds your get a bit curious, they always say nerds have big dicks and they fuck you good and rough from the academic stress...but it's that really true?
word count: 1.6k (wish I could've made it longer but meh)
warnings: big dick mentions, oral (m), nipple sucking, clit rubbing, kissing ofc, unprotected sex (don't do it please!), creampie...lmk if I missed any
my library!
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You were supposed to be studying.
That was the whole point of today—meeting up with Seonghwa in the quiet corner of the campus library, spreading your notebooks across the desk between you, and drilling each other on derivatives and integrals before midterms fried your brains.
But the longer you sat across from him, the harder it got to concentrate.
And not because the material was hard—no, you were more than capable of focusing on vector fields and partial derivatives on a regular day. Hell, not even because Seonghwa was explaining anything wrong. If anything, he was painfully good at it. Always precise, always gentle, patient with every formula like it was a fragile thing in his hands.
No… it was because of how pretty he looked while talking about calculus like it was goddamn poetry.
His plush lips moved slowly around every term, like he tasted them before he spoke. His voice was soft but rich, laced with the quiet nervousness of someone who was both unsure and endlessly competent. He tapped his pen against the desk every few seconds while he thought—tap, tap, pause, soft breath through his nose—and it made your mind spin.
And today? Today he’d pushed the sleeves of his oversized beige sweater up to his elbows, revealing his pale forearms, long and elegant and lined with faint veins that flexed every time he moved his fingers.
You’d almost drooled.
The thick-rimmed round glasses perched on his nose weren’t helping. Nor were the jeans—fitted, faded just enough—that clung to his thighs like they were molded for them. His hair was perfectly tousled, tucked back behind his ears on one side, exposing the curve of his jaw and the gentle flutter of his lashes as he looked down to scribble notes.
The rumors were getting to you.
Nerds are hung. Nerds fuck hard. Nerds are all pent-up tension and overstimulation and animalistic thrusts behind closed doors.
And Seonghwa… Seonghwa, who was shy, who always got the highest scores, who blushed when you complimented him, who was probably a virgin and the sweetest boy you’d ever met?
You had to know.
Your voice broke the silence, laced with curiosity and teasing affection. “Seonghwa?”
He looked up quickly, blinking, his glasses slipping just slightly down his nose. “Yeah?”
You leaned your cheek against your hand, tilting your head. “Have you ever kissed anyone?”
His pen stilled in his grip.
You watched the subtle twitch in his throat as he swallowed, nervousness blooming across his face. “No,” he said quietly.
Your lips curled into a slow, deliberate smile. “Have you ever wanted to?”
His brows knit in the middle, confusion flickering across his features. “W-Why?”
You leaned across the desk just slightly, voice dropping into something silkier. “Because I want to kiss you.”
He looked like his entire brain had short-circuited. His ears went bright red first, and you heard the way his breath hitched—caught somewhere between disbelief and wild hope. His body shifted minutely in his chair, like he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“You… do?”
You nodded, standing up with calm, slow intention and circling the desk. His eyes followed you the whole way, dazed, until you stood between his knees.
“Can I?” you asked softly.
He gave a tiny, trembling nod, breath escaping him like he was exhaling a prayer. “Please.”
You straddled his lap without waiting, hands reaching up to cup his cheeks, the warmth of his skin spreading through your fingers.
The first kiss was tentative, a gentle press of lips that had no idea how electric they could be. He tasted faintly of spearmint gum and something warm—maybe cinnamon, maybe vanilla—and the way he kissed was how he did everything: cautious, intentional, like he was learning you.
And when your tongue slipped past his lips to tease at his, he moaned.
A soft, breathless sound, half-drowned in the kiss but unmistakably desperate. His hips jerked beneath you, entirely involuntary, and the hard bulge pressing against your core made your breath stutter.
You rolled your hips instinctively, dragging yourself across the hardness in his jeans, and Seonghwa gasped into your mouth.
“Oh,” he whimpered. “W-Wait—”
You stilled instantly, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “Did I hurt you?”
His hands shot up in protest, fingers brushing your waist like he didn’t want you to move an inch. “No! No, I just—I’ve never done this. With anyone.”
You blinked, lips parting. “You’re a virgin?”
He nodded, cheeks a furious red, eyes fluttering down like he was ashamed.
All you could do was smile.
“Can I show you what it feels like?”
His breath caught audibly. “You’d do that for me?”
You leaned in, brushing your lips against the shell of his ear. “Baby,” you whispered, “I’ve been thinking about what’s under those jeans for weeks. Let me find out if the rumors are true.”
You felt him twitch beneath you, his cock pulsing under the denim, and suddenly his hands were gripping your thighs, nodding like he couldn’t say yes fast enough.
You undressed him with reverence.
He deserved it—every second of soft touches and slow kisses, every whispered word of reassurance. His fingers trembled when he helped peel off his sweater, and you kissed your way up his chest as he struggled to breathe.
His skin was unreal—pale, smooth, dotted with beauty marks and freckles that you worshiped with your lips. Lean muscle traced his torso, subtle ridges of abs flexing as your nails dragged down his stomach, teasing, until you reached the waistband of his jeans.
“Do you want me to stop?” you asked again, voice barely a breath.
“No,” he whispered. “Please don’t.”
You undid his jeans with deliberate slowness, kissed along the skin just above the waistband—and then pulled his boxers down.
Your jaw dropped.
Because the rumors were true.
His cock sprang free, flushed red and already leaking, slapping up against his stomach with an audible thud. Thick. Long. Girthy enough to make your mouth go dry, with a pretty pink tip that looked nearly angry with need. A subtle upward curve that made your pussy clench in anticipation.
Your fingers wrapped around it almost instinctively.
“You’re huge,” you whispered, honestly stunned. “Is that why you’re always so tense?”
“I-I don’t know,” he stammered, voice pitching high. “I’ve never…”
“You ever jerk off?”
His face burned crimson. “Sometimes. But it—it doesn’t feel this good already.”
You smiled and kissed the inside of his thigh. “Then let me ruin you a little.”
You licked a stripe up the length of his cock, and Seonghwa choked on air. His hips bucked violently, fingers digging into the edge of the desk, knuckles going white.
When you took him fully in your mouth, slow and messy, he whimpered.
A high, airy sound that cracked in the middle, his body arching like he was being electrocuted.
“I-I can’t,” he gasped. “I’m gonna—!”
You pulled off with a wet pop, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. “Not yet,” you cooed. “Wanna feel you inside me first.”
“W-Wait—really?”
“Unless you want me to stop?”
He looked at you like you’d just threatened to end his whole existence. “No! No, I want—fuck, I want you so bad.”
You tugged your shirt over your head and tossed it aside, climbing back into his lap.
His eyes widened, locking onto your chest like he was witnessing divinity.
“Can I… can I touch?”
You guided his trembling hands to your breasts, let him explore the softness with awe on his face. When you rolled your hips over his cock again, he let out a moan that sounded downright addicted.
“I think I’m addicted,” he murmured.
You cradled the back of his head and guided his mouth down to your nipple. He sucked gently at first, then groaned against your skin when you whimpered, clearly encouraged.
You rubbed the head of his cock between your soaked folds, coating him with your arousal, and he shuddered violently.
“Please,” he whispered. “I don’t know how long I’ll last, but please let me feel you…”
You lined him up, teased the head against your entrance—and slowly, carefully, sank down.
The stretch was intense.
Your breath caught. “Shit,” you gasped. “So big—fuck, Seonghwa—”
He was panting, forehead pressed against yours, his body visibly shaking. “Y-You’re so warm. I can’t think—I—I can’t—”
You kissed him quiet, holding his face in your hands.
You stayed seated fully on him, walls fluttering around his cock, both of you shaking from the intensity.
“Stay still,” you whispered. “Just for a second. Let’s breathe.”
He nodded, squeezing his eyes shut, and you felt every twitch, every attempt to behave.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” you whispered.
That’s when he snapped.
His hands clutched your hips, and he thrust up hard.
You screamed.
“S-Seonghwa!”
“I’m sorry—I can’t—I can’t stop—!”
He fucked into you with desperate strength, like something primal had been unlocked. His hips pounded upward, the desk squeaking under you both, the sound of skin slapping and moans echoing through the room.
“You feel so good,” he whined. “I wanna stay inside you forever—oh my god—”
You clung to him, legs trembling, walls clenching uncontrollably.
“You’re gonna make me cum already,” you gasped.
His thumb found your clit, and he rubbed it fast and sloppy, his mouth pressed to your throat.
“Cum for me,” he begged. “Wanna feel you fall apart on my cock.”
You came with a scream, orgasm crashing over you so hard you saw stars.
And he followed—crying out, thrusting deep, his release hot and endless, flooding your cunt with thick spurts of cum as he collapsed against you.
But he wasn’t done.
He stayed inside you, trembling, breath shaky, until he pulled back just enough to kiss you.
“Can we do it again?” he whispered.
You blinked. “Already?”
“I don’t think I’m done,” he said, voice shaking with want. “I want to see how many times I can make you cum.”
And from the look in his eyes… you knew he meant it.
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lizardho · 1 day ago
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This is a thing I have noticed in my clinical training - I learned at my first practicum placement that when I’m nervous I put on what I call “The Liz Show” to entertain supervisors. In reality, it just hid certain needs I had from my supervisors, and those needs were never met at that site. I noticed me putting on The Liz Show again sometimes during internship (my equivalent of residency) and it was definitely impeding my ability to benefit from supervision. Fortunately, this time I was able to catch it, and this time it was happening with a supervisor who is an expert at working with neurodiverse people, so she was able to adapt REALLY quickly once I told her what was going on. The result was that I learned SO much more - about myself as a therapist, about how to implement specific skills, and about how to begin unmasking around others (especially those who have seen me masked previously). It’s REALLY hard to do, and I would never fault anyone for not doing it, but unmasking and being my full freak self made me a better therapist and a better wife and friend if nothing else.
As part oft brand, I feel compelled to share a story. I know it’s not an actual expectation, but I feel it amyways, and I’m gonna share it regardless. Learning how to unmask, I am reminded of a time on my mission when we were waiting to cross one of the many many many many many many many busy streets in Mexico City. It was hot as hell, we were late for a lesson, I was sweating, my garments were new and itchy and I hated them, and I just wanted to Cross The God Damned Street but I couldn’t because there were ALL these fucking cars, and then suddenly a kind bus driver saw me and my companion and took pity on us. He pulled into the middle of the two lanes on that street and stopped his bus, allowing us to cross.
In Mexico City if you keep your fingers close together and raise your hand, with fingers extended (see pic below) to face level or below, it is understood to mean “thank you.” If you raise it above face level, APPARENTLY, it is the equivalent of the middle finger. I had no idea. Nobody had ever told me, because why would anyone ever teach a missionary to flip someone off? That’s just dumb. So, back to my predicament, this guy has just cut into his earning, delayed the arrival of his passengers, and stopped traffic so my dumb gabacha ass could cross the street, and I say “thank you” as emphatically as I can and BWOOOOOOOOMP he lays into his horn and I hear angry chatter from the bus’s passengers and my companion grabs me HARD like I just did something bad so I ask what his deal is and he asks why I did that and I say “I was saying thanks, he’s letting us cross dude, duh” and he actually fully facepalms and yells to the driver “SO sorry, she’s American! She thought that was ‘thank you.’”
I still didn’t know what I did wrong, but suddenly everything was hilarious and everyone who WAS yelling at me was laughing at me, not like in a mean way but in the way you laugh at a puppy who is confused by a doorstop or a baby who doesn’t know what a word means and uses it wrong. And my companion wouldn’t explain the joke until we arrived at the lesson and he tells the investigator about what happened and the investigator told me the difference in hand gestures.
And this is was being neurodiverse is like. Your brain is speaking a different language and when you do it wrong people get mad at you sometimes, and sometimes it seems like it’s for NO REASON, so we learn to mask our confusion and language barrier with humor or silence or austerity or whatever and it WORKS but then we never learn the language right AND nobody else ever learns to speak OUR language even a little bit.
By unmasking at work, I learned the language of a trainee therapist and GOT BETTER AT WHAT I LOVE DOING. By unmasking with my wife I GOT BETTER at communicating with her and she got better and understanding me. By unmasking with friends they have learned to speak to me about as well as I can speak to them, and the occasional accidental middle finger to the proverbial bus drivers in my life stopped being a source of secret shame and self-punishment and became a genuine way to learn about other people and their ways of functioning.
Just like transitioning, just like leaving the church, just like changing majors, just like most things, taking a step to be more genuine about my own experiences with neurodiversity has made me happier, and has made it easier for me to understand others and for them to understand me.
I love y’all, and I especially love @inbabylontheywept @cintailed @flowerologists and @optimisticdad-blog for showing me how to live as someone who’s brain was installed upside down and backwards or something. Be good to each other. Be curious about yourselves and each other. Be gayer. Read more Terry Pratchett. You are deserving of all the love you feel towards your special interests or hyperfixations, and you are deserving of all the understanding you give others when they misunderstand you.
i can be quite charming in short bursts, but it really tires me out. like being charming isnt quite as mentally taxing as, say, chess, but its maybe like playing very aggressive checkers with someone who cheats. so i have to pay very close attention. and while the irony of the cheating thing is not lost on me, this is still my post, goddamnit, and if the universe is fair against my favor it is my constitutional right to complain about it.
anyway, i can feel a little guilty sometimes because i will crank my charm up really high for strangers, because i want them to like me. but ill take it a lot easier when around people that i like because
i really cant do that all the time
they already like me. it worked. i tricked them.
okay i didnt trick them but it can feel like that sometimes and it can give me weird friend guilt
my wife, bless her, pointed out that i was actually reversing on this: that i was calling my parents, and really Performing Babs while pacing around the living room, and then ending the call and immediately worrying that i hadnt done a good job. and she was like, babs, they're your parents, you can relax. they already like you. and i was like yeah, they do, but they're far away and i havent seen then in a while and i cant just see them at will and i only call them once a week and i want to Perform Babs to the best of my ability every time and it upsets me when i dont.
but she told me to chill, and i called my parents this week, and it felt a lot nicer. it turns out that sometimes its easier to be a charming person by focusing more on the person thing than the charming thing. they also sent me pictures of elk eating someones flowers which i really appreciated. my parents do like me, i just miss them quite a lot.
@optimisticdad-blog hope your trip to keeps being awesome. very excited to have you and mom visit utah this summer :)
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m-robinavitch · 2 days ago
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May I have #19 with Jack!
Pairing: Jack Abbot x Reader
Trope: Love at first sight
I’ve posted a snippet of this before but this is my take on how Jack and is wife from in passing., silent., and wet. meet!
“Who is that?” Walsh had asked while walking next to Abbot- hearing the commotion going on and seeing what she assumed was a civilian on top of a patient giving compressions. She was giving an update on the MVC patient from last night when an incoming trauma was announced.
“I think that's my future wife,” Jack mumbled, watching how you took point- strong voice and calling shots. You definitely weren’t a civilian. He was enamored- in love at first fucking sight of the way you held your hand up to pause Jesse from getting the defibrillator ready after you finally found an irregular pulse.
“Who is this and why are you on my patient?” You heard someone comment- taking Jesse’s hand so he can help you off said patient. All you wanted to do after your shift was grab some pizza and sleep for the entire day you had off. But of course you saw the man sway in front of you while standing in line to grab your order- before he even hit the ground you ran up to him before he could add concussion to his list of injuries. You jumped in the ambulance with him, telling the medics to take you to PTMC where you’ve been an intern for a few months already. You explained the situation- how you were in the scene and the attending held his hand up in front of you. You knew him- some asshole that liked to throw rank around but not listen to anyone who wasn’t an attending or a man.
“I’m an intern sir- I-“
“An intern?” He sneered, “Well move aside little lady and let me work.” He physically pushed you away, grabbing his stethoscope while Jesse hooked the monitors onto the patient and gave you a look that told you to not say anything. But-
“Actually we got it from here Dr. Chase,” you turned, eyeing the man who stepped into trauma bay 2. You had seen him in passing, the lead attending on the night shift, Dr. Abbot. Strong arms with salt and pepper hair, snarky comments and a smile that made your knees weak. “That is if our intern wants to keep working on her patient?” Jack hated Chase. Misogynistic asshat who should have retired to the golf courses years ago. And maybe he was so taken by those mere seconds of seeing you but Jack wanted to know how he missed out on you. And eagerly you smiled- nodding and reaching in your backpack for your stethoscope, somehow having so much energy again after a 10 hour shift.
Turns out it was a seizure. The man had a blockage and when he seized it stopped his heart along with it. You were right to stop Jesse from shocking his heart, that would’ve caused more harm than good. And Dr. Abbot praised you for it. You listened and watched the monitors and even mentioned how when the man fell he didn’t grab his chest but jolted for a moment. It was hours later and you were exhausted but you found yourself on the roof with the attending you just met, laughing along with him about Dr. Chase and sharing the pizza he DoorDashed up to the roof- an extra $10 but worth it because you both got your fix. And- you got some time with Jack. He was funny and gorgeous and you’ve only known him a few hours but as you watch the stars light up the sky on what started out as a shit morning yesterday-
“Do you wanna go out with me?” He asks, hazel eyes twinkling with the moon. He only met you a few hours ago but dammit if Jack isn’t a man smitten with a smart, beautiful woman who talks as much shit as he does.
“Yeah- yeah I do. Lunch date?” You ask while nodding, smiling because somehow even if you’ve spent the last few hours with him you don’t want this to end.
“Fuck it- breakfast date. The sooner the better baby.”
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askerror87 · 1 day ago
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Why it's important that Ramb isn't an American plug.
I know this is pedantic but I've been seeing a lot of otherwise great posts about Ramb that don't quite get that Ramb being British isn't a simple quirky throwaway nonsense detail. He's not British just for the sake of it- there’s a really important reason for that that actually says a lot about him as a character and why he ended up like this. I originally wrote this out as a reblogged response to this post but I realized that this was going to need a visual aid.
Most of the Plugboys we see in Chapter 2 are not only visibly supposed to remind you of a cat, but they are distinctly designed off of the Type B outlet that most Americans would be familiar with. (Note that Ramb's eyes, while still rectangular, are rounder and softer thanks to the eyebrows and beauty marks/ eyelashes/ smile lines/ however you want to interpret these pixels.)
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(Obviously, we see a variety of expressions from them throughout the game, which seem to primarily take inspiration from Type A, B, G, and possibly I outlets)
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Ramb, however, is designed to be Like the Chapter Two Plugboys But Different BECAUSE he isn’t an American Outlet.
He’s a Type K power strip that Kris and Azzy stole from the Library.
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Type Ks are distinct because of the roundness of their first two prongs and the semi-circle curvature of the third, giving them that signature ‘smile’ that Type Bs inherently lack because of how their plugs are shaped. They are also, as you may have guessed, very much European. (Type Ks, as pointed out to me by my friend @strangeandinteresting, are outlets that are primarily used in Denmark, but that they "do also reckon that a Danish accent would be harder to do in written format like that, so for the intents of him seeming 'other' the British (Specifically London, cockney(?)) accent is perfect". I grew up using Type K and other circular plugs, so my working theory is Toby primarily wanted to use a plug type that was distinctly From Europe first and foremost, and had the furthest possible 'expression' from a Type B.)
Ramb isn’t British and a Dog just for the sake of it- he’s Designed Like That because while Type Bs and Type Ks are visually very similar, they are inherently incompatible. You can’t put a European plug into an American outlet and vice versa for a variety of reasons, primarily because you will probably fry the thing you’re trying to plug in. To explain this as simply as possible, British (and other European) plugs are created in such a way where they include their own fuse (which is why the head is so big). Inherently, they are simply a more powerful and superior device because of how they are made. He’s also very portable because of this- power strips are supposed to allow you to Put More Things In Them.
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As you can imagine, though… this is only the case if there’s actually something FOR THEM TO PLUG INTO. Whoever ordered Ramb (possibly Miss Boom) accidentally bought the wrong type of power strip. That’s also probably why no one from the Cyber World ever said anything about him- why he was never missed by anyone.
We see this foreshadowed by the Spamton Sweepstakes and its 2025 update. What’s the URL allowing us to access the greenroom page? /ramb. And yet, all traces of him are missing in it… beyond the door that Ramb guards for Kris stating plainly that ‘No one will shed a tear for him.’
Almost like he no longer served a purpose, no? Almost like he vanished without a trace???
This seemingly very small detail about his accent is actually one of many ways Toby gives us an indicator of him Not Belonging and to be able to cement it in this way by accent and character design alone is so good I’m going to explode-
He's supposed to be a shopkeeper but that job was delegated to a vending machine because Tenna didn’t want him handling POINTs. He's supposed to work the green room but he quit. He's supposed to be in the computer lab but no one noticed or cared that he went missing- nobody mentioned him in Chapter 2, nobody mentions him after you go to your Castle Town in Chapter 4. He has all the markings of a secret boss, talking about freedom, chaos, and remarking about big shots, and facilitates play via a game (games are supposed to be fun, don't let it feel like a job, okay?). AND YET-
He doesn’t give you a shadow crystal. No, that’s for the REAL secret boss. He doesn’t give you an item. That’s for the other REAL secret boss.
Something, SOMEONE, meant to be extremely helpful deprived of a use.
Jesus Christ is Toby good at making characters.
Bonus: if werewires are meant to be dogs-
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Does that mean if Ramb was to be plugged in his werewire design would be more catlike?
[ID: Some Deltarune screenshots and pictures of electrical plugs.
1 - Ramb's sprite, which shows him as a short human-like creature with purple floppy ears, stubble and overalls.
2 - The basic plugboy sprite, with vertical eyes and an open mouth, with the Type A and B outlets for comparison.
3 - More sprites with expressions of stress and surprise, and a whole list of outlet types for comparison.
4 - Ramb dialogue excerpts reading "Kris, you sure you're feeling… normal? … Well, you are talking to a power strip. So maybe not. Haha!" and "Oi, Kris, luv! It's me, Ramb! You and your brother took me here from the Library!"
5 - A side-by-side comparison of Ramb's sprite and a Type K outlet, which has three circular holes, one of them slightly flattend like a smile.
6 - A Type K power strip.
7 - A looping gif of a Werewire enemy, a lanky bipedal wolf-like creature with a striped pink and blue body and spindly yellow arms that wave front to back. Its long pointed ears twitch as a plug covering its face loops through pink, blue, green and yellow stripes.
/End ID] (Thank you to @gogogoat495 for the ID!)
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lizardho · 1 day ago
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In response to "The Liz Show" / unmasking: Do you have any advice on learning to unmask? Because to me it kind of feels like trying to roleplay the version of me that someone I am talking to expects / wants from me has become somewhat instinctive, since for quite a while that was the only way I found to somewhat successfully survive social interactions at all. I am now aware that this miiiight not be a reliable long term strategy, but I am not quite sure how to... start stopping it? More often than not I am not great at accessing my own emotions, which makes identifying my unmet needs difficult and communicating those needs effectively pretty much impossible.
So, any tips and tricks you can share?
(PS: despite all the above, I am aware that you are A Therapist, but not MY Therapist, so no, I am not expecting you to suddenly have a solution to all my issues, sorry for dropping them on you :D )
Thank you for sharing that at the end of the Ask, and I’ll reiterate it here just to be safe. I’m a therapist but not YOUR therapist, dear reader, so please take all of this with a grain of salt and trust your own intuition about these tips.
One tip I like to share with my patients is where I’ll start: Things like ADHD and Austism are disabilities and as such are disabling. Of course, most people have been told to “power through it, grow up, don’t let it hold you back, don’t give me those excuses” so it often doesn’t feel like you have permission to feel the weight of the knowledge that you’re disabled. So start by being twice as kind to yourself as you feel you deserve. Rest twice as long. Celebrate your wins twice as much. Be twice as patient with yourself. Because we’re starting from a deficit, and that deficit is often maintained by shame and exhaustion, and so as a result if you’re doubling up on kindness you’re probably just barely breaking even.
Some other things I like to do are look for examples of things I do in others, including non-human others. If you see a dog run past a ball, then find it when they double back, they don’t go “oh, stupid, I’m such an idiot. I’m a joke. I don’t even deserve the ball, I walked right past it and missed my opportunity,” they pick that fucker up and party about it. If you notice something you could use help on after someone asks and you said “no,” don’t treat it as a failure or a missed opportunity, see it as a present opportunity to ask for help now. Neurodiverse people often need more time to recognize and understand feelings. If you let people know that’s a part of your experience, it helps make it easier to circle back on things and say “Hey, yesterday when you asked if you could help I couldn’t think of anything, but I have some things you could help with if the offer still stands.” Do this for anything it applies to - asking for clarity, asking for help with daily tasks, asking for patience, asking for more time to rest, etc.
Another thing that is helpful is to keep in mind that YOU are the sole arbiter of your experiences. If something bugs you, it just does. You don’t need to wait until you can explain it to someone else effectively enough for them to believe you for it to be real. The same goes for joy - you don’t need to be able to justify why you love things to love them as deeply as you do. If flicking your fingers helps you calm down, do it. Nobody can really explain why anything works for them, you don’t have to be any better than them.
The last tip that comes to mind as a broad, generally applicable tip to anyone, is get curious, but don’t ask “why?” Ask “What?” “How?” “When?” or “Where?” Why is an OFFENSIVE question in a literal sense - not that it is rude but that it forces the responder to be on the DEFENSIVE. You have to justify it, and we just covered how difficult that is in the best of circumstances. By asking other questions, it helps you to reflect on things without having to justify them, which gives you more of a chance to really think about them without the pressure of defending something. Don’t ask “why am I like this?” ask “what happened to bring up this feeling?” or “where do I feel this in my body?” or “how did I get this tired so quick?”
Some other things I can recommend more specifically for recognizing emotions are; pay attention to the physical sensation that accompanies the emotion, and eventually you can learn to recognize emotions by reading your body like a map. Also note basic impulses that accompany emotions - if you don’t know what you feel but you notice you wanna stare at your shoes and hide then it might be embarrassment or excitement. If you notice the impulse to put something between you and someone else you may be feeling a little uncomfortable with them. Noticing physical and behavioral reactions to feelings can help identify them more clearly. It can also help to detach somewhat from emotions - if you feel something really strongly and it’s confusing see if you might be feeling 2+ things at once (like angry because you touched wet bread and excited because your favorite movie is starting and tired because it’s been a tough week and and and…) Noticing emotions as parts of you and not the entirety of you can sometimes help people with this. There are lots of practices from ACT, IFS, and DBT that can help people develop these skills but some of my faves are the chessboard analogy from ACT, Parts Mapping from IFS, and the STOP skill from DBT. If you don’t know what these are, you should be able to look them up and find materials to help you practice them.
Ask for help often, masking often leads us to stretch ourselves thin and wear ourselves down to the bone trying to do more than we can. And help yourself as often as you can. If you can’t go to class in an outfit but CAN go in your jammies and with sunglasses on then do that, because you need it to be yourself.
And remember that you don’t HAVE to do anything, and that includes unmask. Masking has some benefits, and can be valuable if done appropriately. Just recognize that either way there is a cost involved. Masking at a work meeting may mean you’re dead tired tonight and can’t take engage in interests, but unmasking may make other people at the meeting think you’re strange. This is not a moral failure, it’s a cost-benefit analysis. Making eye contact with your bestie at lunch may mean you appear more conversational and she feels more heard, but may mean you retain less because you’re monitoring your facial expressions and reactions more consciously. Take care of yourself, trust your intuition, be gentle with yourself, and as always, be gayer, read more Terry Pratchett, and take more naps.
I can ALSO highly recommend the Unmasking Autism books by Dr. Price @drdemonprince for learning to unmask. He has made some great worksheets that have helped me and my patients a lot.
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hexagon-club · 3 days ago
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Even that definition is extremely vague. Why was Hitler a fascist but not Joseph Stalin? Well, I know that anarchists like to call Stalinists "red fascists", but I think the consensus is that Stalin was not a fascist, even though he was authoritarian and nationalistic. Maybe you could say that it's an economics thing because he had a left wing economic program, but that still doesn't explain why someone like Kaiser Wilhelm II isn't generally considered a fascist by most people. Why is Charles de Gaulle not considered a fascist? I mean, he has the solid anti-fascist credentials of having fought against the Nazis in WW2, but he still ended up leading a right wing government that massively concentrated power in the hands of the president.
I've seen people say that America is fascist, that the founding fathers were fascist, that Manifest Destiny was a form of fascism. But I don't think that's generally agreed upon, and even if it was, I feel like at that point you are defining fascism as such a broad concept that it stops being a useful descriptor.
The closest thing to a stable definition the word has in terms of common use seems to be "authoritarian in a way that comes from bad intentions." Stalin may have been authoritarian, but it came from a place of wanting a more egalitarian society, which is an approved good motivation. The various monarchies of 19th century Europe were authoritarian, nationalistic, imperialistic, and very racist. But it came from a place of noblesse oblige, which is seen as an approved set of good intentions even when it leads to bad outcomes. So they are generally not considered fascist.
There seems to be this idea that the bad guys in WW2 were consciously choosing evil. Whereas other historical political movements were at worst only doing evil accidentally. So when leftists call their enemies fascists, I think what they are doing is saying that their enemies know that they are evil, and are deliberately choosing to do things that they know to be morally wrong. So when a TRA calls you a fascist, what they are saying is "I know that you don't actually believe that sex is immutable and humans are a sexually dimorphic species, and are just pretending to in order to make the world a worse place." Which is why they are able to put feminists in the same category as people who want a race war.
It's this lack of theory of mind thing that they have where they can't really conceive of the idea that people could have good faith objections to anything they are doing. Because in their own minds they are so self-evidently on the side of good that anyone who disagrees with them must be doing so because they are consciously trying to make the world a worse place. As much as TRAs like to frame their beliefs in the language of science and liberal humanism, their actual worldview is far closer to a millenarian Christian cult that sees itself as being in a death struggle with a fundamentally evil society.
Fascism started out as an economic thing, it was this idea of dividing society up into a bunch of independent guilds that would negotiate with each other in order to form a unified society. That's why the fasces was their symbol, it was a bunch of individual parts being consumed into a single whole with a single purpose. So the goal was to create an economy that still had private ownership, but one where it was married to a sort of common state project. It was the classic 20th century thing of trying to rein in the excesses of capitalism without embracing the egalitarian/redistributive principles of socialism.
That's probably the closest thing "fascism" has to a solid definition in a historical context. Aside from just being a catch-all for the various factions that made up the losing side of WW2. But when tumblr users call each other fascists they're not thinking about economics. It's just a catch-all term for a member of the outgroup who they dislike. Because a fascist is the worst thing you can be, so if you're bad, it must mean you are a fascist. To go back to the religion analogy, it's very similar to how people in religious cults assume that anyone who opposes them must be a puppet of Satan.
am i allowed to say that i fucking hate the “trans community”? i get why people say it’s a cult lmao.
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hood-ex · 2 days ago
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Petition to end Dick and Damian as close because Damian is, “His Robin.” Why is everyone and their mom saying Dick and Damian are super close because they were batman and robin when Tim was “his Robin” as Batman first in Prodigal. With that in their history and being the closest thing to brothers first that makes them closer than some one forcefully dropped in Dick’s lap and they didn’t like each other.
When it’s explained why their favourite pair are Damian and Dick they may as well explain it’s Tim and Dick they’re looking for. Brothers-of-all-time. Father figure and son. Supported in tough cases. Batman and Robin.
Are you a Tim stan perchance? Because I hate to say it buuut... this reeks of jealousy. And like I get it, especially as someone who adores sibling characters, I get it. I understand why Tim stans in particular would be bitter about Damian coming in and being someone Dick ends up really caring about. It feels like Tim and Dick's relationship gets left in the dark to some extent, or it feels like it's overlooked, yada yada. I get it.
But. You're diminishing one relationship in favor of another when both relationships can be celebrated instead. Probably easier for a Dick stan because Dick stans are fed either way. Again, I get it.
You say Damian was forcefully dropped in Dick's lap (even though Dick ended up choosing to stay and take responsibility for Damian), but Tim also forced his way into Dick's life. I also don't know what scenes or stories you may be thinking of to compare Dick and Tim to a father and son. Even with the YJ issue where Dick shows up at the parent-teacher conference, it's more akin to Dick being like, "Bruce couldn't make it so I'm here." AKA dad couldn't come so big brother is here to fill in.
Also, Tim originally came on the scene to be Batman's partner. I mean, he wanted Dick to take Robin back after Jason's death, but circumstances led to him being Robin instead. Not Robin to Dick's Nightwing, but Robin to Bruce's Batman. That's why Tim is always going to be strongly associated as Bruce's Robin instead of Dick's Robin (well and because of Bruce and Tim's lengthy time as partners, obviously).
Damian didn't have Bruce to partner with when he became Robin, he had Dick. Their partnership took place across multiple titles with multiple stories. That's why people are going to associate Damian as Dick's Robin. Sure, you can say Tim was Dick's Robin as well, because he was, but let's be real, he's always going to be more of Bruce's Robin than anyone's. When people hear "Batman and Robin" in relation to Tim, they're going to immediately think of Bruce and Tim. When people hear "Batman and Robin" in relation to Damian, they're most likely going to think of Dick and Damian and then think of Damian and Bruce.
It's okay to say you favor Dick and Tim's relationship over Dick and Damian's relationship, but let's not act like Dick and Damian's relationship isn't distinct from Dick and Tim's. And let's not act like Dick and Damian can't or shouldn't be considered close because of their time as partners.
The issue you seem to have is Damian being perceived as having a better or closer relationship to Dick than Tim. Again, we can celebrate both relationships. Dick and Tim are close in their own way. Dick and Damian are close in their own way. It doesn't have to be one or the other, it can be and is both.
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kandized · 1 day ago
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let me be loved like this — polytrix
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summary. zoey’s never been the most secure girl. It explained why she was so eager to please, doing everything she could to hear the words, 'good job' from someone she loved. So when Rumi unexpectedly complimented her for her hair, which she believed was long overdue for a cut, she couldn't help but blush.
warnings. smut. polyamory. zorumi. praise kink. mira and rumi show their girl some love as deserved. kitchen sex. dom!mira. dom!rumi. bottom!zoey. dubcon. miras an eater (canon). the kind of greed they talk about in the bible. fluffy ending. zoey with her hair down a/n: this was supposed to be fluff originally but I got carried away and I think zoey needs more appreciation in and out of the show. (idc if she gets enough she needs more). ao3.
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rumi sighed, tossing her pen onto the table with a soft clatter. frustration prickled up her spine—she knew what she wanted to say. the line was right there, but the words just wouldn’t land the way she needed them to.
they didn’t sound right.
she leaned back in her chair, exhaling through her nose as her eyes wandered—inevitably—to zoey.
zoey sat cross-legged on the chair at the kitchen table, creamy bare thighs on full display, a thick hoodie swallowing the rest of her. it hung low, brushing the tops of her legs, the sleeves pushed sloppily up her arms. a notebook rested on one thigh, and her pen tapped rhythmically to the beat playing through her headphones.
she looked so focused. so effortlessly pretty. her hair was down for once, the strands slightly mussed, with bangs that had grown too long and now kept slipping into her eyes.
rumi tilted her head, letting her gaze linger. something about it made her stop.
zoey just looked… soft like this. unbothered. vulnerable in a way that made rumi’s chest clench.
zoey jotted something down, biting her lip—then let out a little squeak of excitement.
but she must’ve felt the weight of rumi’s stare, because her pen slowed… then stopped completely.
she glanced up, pulling one side of her headphones off with a curious little smile. “what?” she asked, laughing quietly. “did you finally figure your lines out? or are you just gonna keep staring at me like that?”
rumi blinked, caught mid-thought, then tilted her head with a lazy half-smirk. “do you not like being stared at?” she asked, voice softer now—less teasing, more genuinely curious.
zoey’s eyes flicked away. she gave a soft shrug. “i don’t know… i guess i just don’t get why anyone would.”
that hit rumi somewhere low in her chest.
“hmm,” she said. “i can think of a few reasons.”
the room got quiet before rumi spoke again. “your hair’s getting long.”
zoey blinked back, glancing up as if just realizing the way her bangs dipped into her eyes. she blew at them with a huff of breath before taking her headphones off, setting them on the table. “ah… yeah, i’ve been so busy i haven’t had time to cut it. should i?”
rumi leaned her elbow on the table, eyes never leaving her. “no,” she said firmly. “it looks good like this. i like it like this.”
zoey looked at her again, a little unsure. “..yeah?”
“yeah,” rumi said, smiling now. she reached out and gently tucked zoey’s hair behind her ear, letting her fingers linger. “you’re so pretty, zoey.”
that caught zoey completely off guard.
zoey’s breath hitched. her heart gave a small, involuntary stutter, and her stomach fluttered with that soft, unsteady warmth that made her feel dizzy in the best way.
she didn’t know what to do with it—with the compliment, the touch, the way rumi was looking at her like she meant it.
her eyes widened just slightly, lips parting—speechless for once. the air between them grew heavier, charged, and zoey’s cheeks lit up pink.
she ducked her head, hand brushing over the spot rumi had touched, a quiet, shaky laugh escaping her. “oh my god,” she muttered. her voice was too soft, too breathy. she felt like she was floating. or melting. maybe both.
rumi watched her like she was the only thing in the room. “is zoey…” she said, tilting her head with a grin. “is zoey blushing?”
zoey groaned, hands flying up to cover her face. “no, i’m not—shut up.”
“liar,” rumi said, practically glowing now. “you’re actually blushing. that’s so cute. zoeyyy!”
“stop!” zoey said through her hands, voice muffled and clearly flustered. “i’m gonna kick you.”
“you wouldn’t,” rumi teased, scooting her chair closer until their knees brushed. she leaned in, breath warm against zoey’s ear, her hand settling confidently on her thigh. “my pretty little zoey.”
zoey froze, her breath catching in her throat. her hands slowly dropped, her face still flushed, eyes wide with that same vulnerable disbelief.
rumi didn’t give her a chance to recover.
zoey tried to lean away, overwhelmed—but rumi followed, closing the space between them with a quiet intensity.
her hand slid from zoey’s thigh to her cheek, tilting her head towards hers just slightly before pressing their mouths together.
the kiss started soft—testing—but zoey gasped, her breath hitching as she gave in, fingers twisting on the front of rumi’s hoodie like she was holding on for dear life.
that flutter in her stomach twisted into something heavier, warmer—needier.
she melted fast.
too fast.
chairs scraped loudly as rumi tugged her closer, zoey nearly falling out of her seat in the process. rumi stood, pulling zoey up with her like it was nothing, like she was weightless, and kissed her again—deeper this time.
their mouths moved together, wet and hot, tongues brushing. “rumi..!” zoey moaned softly into her, voice barely restrained, every part of her trembling from the intensity of it.
rumi backed her up until she hit the edge of the table, then pressed her in place, hips flush, hands gripping tight at her waist.
her mouth dragged down, kissing along zoey’s jaw and lower still, until she found the soft skin of her neck.
“fuck,” zoey whispered, eyes fluttering shut.
rumi didn’t stop.
“my beautiful girl,” she murmured against her skin, breath warm and ragged. she sucked lightly, then kissed again, leaving slow heat in her wake.
her fingers slipped under the hem of zoey’s large hoodie, lifting it while her thumbs brushed her hips. “no shorts? mm.” rumi spoke, pulling at the hem of zoey’s panties and letting it snap back against her skin causing zoey to yelp.
zoey’s entire body buzzed with sensation. her mind was soft static. her legs felt weak.
she didn’t hear the door.
but rumi did—just a beat too late.
“well—holy shit,” mira’s voice rang out, half-laughing, half-stunned. “i leave you guys alone for five minutes and now you’re practically fucking on top of the lyric sheets?”
zoey gasped and jolted back, shoving at rumi’s shoulders with burning cheeks and pushing her hoodie down. “oh my god—mira!”
rumi barely moved, just turned her head lazily toward mira, lips flushed, eyes half-lidded. “you were gone for thirty,” she said calmly, like she wasn’t just about to turn zoey out in the dining room.
mira dropped the bags on the counter, eyebrows raised, a grin pulling at her lips. “i was shopping, not speedrunning,” she muttered, watching them with interest.
before zoey could run, rumi dissolved into pink mist before appearing behind zoey again—effortless, predatory.
she slid her arms around zoey’s waist and pulled her backward, flush to her chest, until zoey gave a breathless squeak. “ah—rumi!”
“mira, look here,” rumi said smoothly, her voice dripping with mischief. “see how long her hair’s gotten?”
zoey whined, face burning as her hands flew up to cover herself again.
but rumi was already catching them—her fingers threading through zoey’s, gently but deliberately pulling her arms down and away from her face.
“don’t hide,” rumi whispered near her ear, lips brushing against her skin. “i want her to see how pretty you are.”
zoey’s breath hitched. her body trembled, a sharp pulse deep inside her, clenching around nothing.
it was too much—the attention, the praise, the heat in both their eyes.
and mira, still leaning casually against the counter with her arms crossed, watched it all unfold with a glint of amusement. she let out a low, appreciative whistle.
“jesus. should i leave again or grab popcorn?”
zoey tried to twist away, overwhelmed, but rumi only caught her wrists and drew them behind her back, holding her there—easily, securely.
“mira, please—don’t feed her ego,” she said, voice cracking with embarrassment.
“oh no,” mira said, stepping closer with a wicked grin, her gaze dragging slowly down zoey’s body. “look at how your hair falls down your shoulders… an absolute beauty, aren’t you?”
“stop,” zoey let out a sigh, trying to pull from rumi’s grip, but rumi kept her in place—firm and patient.
“she gets so shy when you say nice things,” rumi murmured near zoey’s ear, clearly enjoying the way her words made zoey squirm. “isn’t that sweet?”
mira tilted her head, eyes glinting as she stepped in closer. “it is, isn’t it? are you a good girl, zoey? our good, sweet girl?”
zoey let out a soft, needy whimper, her knees visibly buckling as she gave a shy nod, eyes flickering between them as rumi moved to her side.
but mira wasn’t satisfied.
she leaned in until her lips were barely an inch from zoey’s, her voice a velvet command. “nuh-uh. use your words.”
zoey’s breath caught. her lips parted like she wanted to speak—but nothing came out.
rumi chuckled low against her neck, her fingers stroking slow circles at zoey’s waist. “come on, baby,” she coaxed, voice like honey. “say it. be good for us.”
zoey’s eyes fluttered closed, her face burning. and then, barely audible:
“i’m… your good girl.”
mira smiled. “there she is.”
rumi hummed, brushing her lips along zoey’s jaw as she spoke. “you know, i think good, pretty girls deserve special attention.”
mira nodded, biting her lip as she caged zoey in, “i think you’re right, rumi.”
before zoey could even ask what that meant, mira was already moving—hands at the hem of her hoodie, lifting it just enough to expose the bare skin beneath.
“wait—” zoey gasped, but rumi was right there, soothing her with a kiss behind her ear.
“shh,” she whispered. “let us take care of you.”
zoey trembled in place, thighs brushing as she struggled to stay upright, her hoodie now bunched around her hips—exposing the curve of her waist and the sliver of pale skin above her underwear.
rumi got behind zoey once more, giving her a solid place to lean against, while mira knelt slowly in front of her like she had all the time in the world.
her hands slid down zoey’s legs, fingers trailing along the backs of her thighs, then smoothing up again—slow, deliberate. mira pressed a soft kiss just above the band of her underwear, her breath hot against sensitive skin, eyes glinting as she looked up.
zoey’s breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering. she felt raw—vulnerable and seen, a fluttering ache pulsing low in her belly.
her knees buckled slightly, only held up by rumi’s solid frame behind her.
“r-rumi—” she whispered.
“you’re doing so good,” rumi murmured, kissing just below her jaw now, her voice dripping with praise. “so perfect, we got you. let us show you how much we mean it.”
mira’s hands gripped zoey’s thighs, thumbs stroking slowly along the inside until one hand slid up and gently hooked her leg over mira’s shoulder, opening her up further.
the shift made zoey gasp—made her hoodie ride even higher, nearly baring her completely.
“look at you,” mira breathed, kissing her hipbone, her tone half-reverent, half-teasing. “shaking just from a little touch. such a sensitive thing…”
zoey whimpered, heat rolling off her in waves, one hand gripping rumi’s wrist for stability, the other tangled in the hem of her hoodie.
she couldn’t decide whether to pull it down or let it rise higher.
rumi leaned closer, her lips brushing over the shell of zoey’s ear again, voice low and intimate. “tell us if it’s too much, baby. otherwise…”
her hand slid just beneath the waistband of zoey’s underwear, barely grazing skin.
“…let us keep going.”
zoey nodded quickly, but mira tapped her thigh.
“use your words,” she said again, softly—but it was a command.
zoey bit her lip, her voice barely more than a whisper. “please… don’t stop. i don’t want you to stop.”
that was all they needed.
rumi kissed her temple, her hand gently pulling zoey’s hoodie up higher, bunching the fabric around her ribs until it was practically off. she tugged it carefully over zoey’s head, baring her slowly like she was unwrapping something precious.
zoey shivered under the attention, arms folding instinctively across her exposed chest.
“none of that,” rumi murmured from behind, gently uncrossing zoey’s arms and kissing the slope of her shoulder. “you don’t have to hide from us. you’re enough. let us see you.”
zoey breathed out shakily, nodding, trying to trust the warmth in their hands, the sincerity in rumi’s voice. the hoodie hit the floor with a soft sound, and now she stood between them in nothing but a thin pair of underwear, trembling and adored.
mira’s fingers traced the waistband again, her eyes never leaving zoey’s face.
“you’re so pretty like this,” she whispered, voice husky. “you were made for this, weren’t you? to be taken care of. this is what you need, zo zo.”
zoey’s thighs clenched, a soft noise catching in her throat as mira kissed the inside of her leg—slow, deliberate, just above the knee. then higher. higher still. until she was just breathing against her center through the thin fabric of her panties.
zoey whimpered.
rumi leaned into her ear again. “that feel good, zo?” she asked softly. “you want her mouth on you?”
zoey could barely think. she nodded quickly—desperate, dizzy.
rumi chuckled. “your words, zoey.”
her voice trembled. “i… i want it. i want mira’s mouth on me. please…”
mira grinned, fingers hooking into the sides of her underwear, dragging them down slow enough to make zoey twitch.
“that’s my good girl,” mira murmured. “beg so sweet.”
zoey stepped out of them shakily, one leg still hooked around mira’s shoulder. her entire body was open—flushed, trembling, exposed in every way.
and yet they kept looking at her like she was something sacred.
mira leaned in and kissed her—soft at first. her voice followed, low and hungry. “how pretty,” she murmured, lips brushing soaked heat. “all this just for us?”
zoey whimpered, hips jerking at the contact. it felt like her skin was too thin, too sensitive. like every nerve had been rewired just to feel them.
then mira’s tongue flicked out, slow and deliberate, dragging through her, and zoey gasped—head falling back hard against rumi’s shoulder.
pleasure pulsed through her, thick and hot, but it wasn’t just the physical. it was the unbearable ache of being seen, of being told she was beautiful—again and again—when all she ever felt was not enough.
too much. unworthy.
but they looked at her like she was the center of the world.
rumi held her like she might come apart. pressing soft kisses to her throat, chest cradled gently in one arm, her other hand stroking slow circles across zoey’s belly, grounding her in a tenderness she didn’t know how to hold onto.
“you’re okay,” rumi whispered, her voice like honey, like silk. “you’re doing so good. let her take her time with you. you taste too sweet for her to make you come so quickly—let her savor you.”
let her savor you. oh wow. is anyone else wet?
this was doing insane things to her ego.
rumi’s words only made zoey tremble harder.
mira moaned against her, the vibration sending a jolt straight through her core. her mouth moved in slow, wet strokes, unhurried, like zoey was something to savor—not rush, not use, but worship.
zoey cried out, hips bucking helplessly, one hand tangled in mira’s hair like she couldn’t bear to let her go. every brush of her tongue felt like too much—sharp, perfect, maddening.
“rumi—fuck—she’s—” zoey’s voice broke, a sob of pleasure escaping before she could stop it.
“i’ve got you,” rumi murmured into her neck. “you’re safe. you’re ours. let go.”
zoey’s chest ached with how much she wanted to believe it, wanted to believe them.
to believe she could be loved like this.
her moans grew tighter, breath high and stuttering, thighs shaking uncontrollably. she felt split open—not just by the pleasure, but by the way they touched her like she mattered.
like she was precious.
zoey’s moans grew higher, tighter, her hands flying to mira’s hair, clutching with helpless desperation as her legs began to shake.
her body bowed forward, her hands clutching mira like she was drowning in her.
and then—
she shattered.
her stomach clenched, back arching, a cry tearing from her lips that didn’t sound like anything she’d ever made before. it was raw. unfiltered.
her entire body pulsed, wave after wave crashing through her, leaving her shaking, breathless, and undone in rumi’s arms.
zoey’s body trembled as the last waves rolled through her, every muscle buzzing, her breath coming in short, shaky gasps.
she couldn’t speak—could barely think. her knees might’ve buckled if not for rumi’s steady arms still wrapped around her.
“deep breaths,” rumi whispered, brushing her lips against zoey’s temple. “you did so good, baby. so, so good.”
mira lifted her head slowly from between zoey’s thighs, lips wet, eyes soft and reverent as she looked up at her. there was no smugness now—just awe.
“my-my, zoey,” she murmured, stroking her hands gently down zoey’s trembling thighs. “you’re beautiful when you come. you looked like you were glowing.”
zoey whimpered, face turning away like she couldn’t bear the words. she didn’t know what to do with that kind of tenderness—especially when she didn’t feel like she deserved it.
“i—i’m not—” she began, voice hoarse, cracking.
“you are,” rumi said instantly, tightening her hold, pulling her closer. “you are, zoey. don’t try to argue right now, you can barely stand.”
mira stood, slowly, carefully, and moved in beside her, wrapping her arms around both of them.
she tucked her face against zoey’s cheek and whispered, “you’re not allowed to talk shit about yourself after letting us love you like that. nope. off limits.”
zoey let out a shaky, wet laugh, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes before she could stop them. “you guys are sooo mean.”
“you love it,” mira teased softly, brushing her thumb under zoey’s eye. “and we love you.”
zoey buried her face into rumi’s neck, overwhelmed in a way that felt nothing like before. not like shame. not like being too much or not enough. just… full. held. safe.
rumi rocked her gently, fingertips running along her spine. “you were so good for us,” she whispered. “so sweet. let us take care of you a little longer, okay?”
zoey nodded against her skin, small and tired and open.
“okay.”
mira kissed her cheek, then her shoulder, then the top of her head. “let’s get you in bed, pretty girl. we’ll hold you all night.”
rumi smiled into zoey’s hair. “and maybe tomorrow…” she said, voice low and promising, “…we’ll let you be the one in control.”
zoey groaned faintly, already hiding again. “oh my god.”
they both laughed—and this time, so did she.
rumi cleaned her gently, every touch slow and reverent, using warm cloths from the sink while mira whispered sweet things from the pillows, coaxing zoey to keep her eyes open just a little longer.
“mmm… i’m tired..” zoey whined, her voice muffled as she curled deeper into the sheets.
“i know, zo-zo,” mira murmured from behind her, pressing a kiss to the back of her shoulder. “just a little longer, yeah? do you want to be all sticky when you wake up?”
zoey shook her head softly and mira smiled, “good, then let rumi help you.”
rumi smiled too, brushing a warm cloth between zoey’s thighs. “almost done, i promise,” she said, voice low and soothing. “you’re being such a good girl.”
zoey whimpered at that, barely able to lift her head, but clearly still affected by the praise. her lashes fluttered, heavy with sleep before she brought her hands up to cover her face. “shuutt uppp,” she mumbled, cheeks burning even through her exhaustion.
rumi chuckled, soft and fond, and leaned forward to kiss her hip. “you’re cute when you’re shy,” she said gently, wiping down the last of the mess with practiced care.
zoey grumbled something incoherent into the pillow, but didn’t move away.
mira ran her fingers through zoey’s hair and asked quietly, “are you cold?”
“a little…”
“mm. figured.” rumi tossed the cloth to the side, grabbing a pair of zoeys boxers and sliding them up her legs while mira pulled the comforter higher over all of them. “we’ve got you.”
she moved back to the bed, crawling in behind zoey and wrapping her arms around her waist, sandwiching her between them.
zoey let out a soft sigh of relief—boneless and safe—as her body fully relaxed.
rumi kissed her temple and whispered, “you did so good for us, angel. rest now.”
mira tucked the blanket around them and nuzzled close. “tomorrow, we’ll spoil you all over again.”
zoey managed a sleepy smile, already slipping under. “tomorrow,” she echoed faintly, “you’re both in trouble…”
“mm. sure we are,” rumi chuckled, pulling her closer.
they fell asleep like that—warm, tangled, and completely wrapped in each other.
and for the first time in a long while, zoey didn’t feel like she had to earn any of it.
she just let herself be loved.
as they always would.
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zoey you greedy asfk.
thank you for reading, let me know how you liked it!
© THIS STORY BELONGS TO KANDIZED ON TUMBLR AND KODZYNKEN ON AO3. I do not allow the unauthorized copying or sharing of my work. Please be respectful!
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borngoose · 2 days ago
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WOAH i love you writing. anything jason angst x apollo reader? preferably the reader is on the argo II with the crew
𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒆
⊹ jason grace
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⊹ pairing + wc: ~2.8k Jason Grace x child of Apollo!reader ⊹ notes: set post-Son of Neptune, during Mark of Athena. Jason has a crush he doesn’t feel worthy of. You’re a little sunbeam, but even you have problems.
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JASON AVOIDS YOUR EYES when he says it.
“I think it’s better if we don’t… do this. Whatever this is.”
You blink once, then twice, like maybe the ship’s swaying got to you wrong. Like maybe you heard him wrong. But Jason Grace — golden boy, demigod, hero of Camp Jupiter — stands stiffly at the railing of the Argo II, arms folded like it’s the only way he won’t unravel. His jaw is tight.
You wait for the smile. The joke. The just kidding.
It never comes.
“Oh,” you say softly. Your voice catches in your throat like sunlight through smoke. “Right. Yeah. Sure.”
You manage a nod and excuse yourself before he can see the way your hands shake.
He doesn’t stop you. That’s what stings.
You're not sure what hurts more the rejection, or the fact that you believed him when he looked at you like you were something.
You don’t blame him. Not really. You’ve always known your brightness could be blinding. You’re Apollo’s child — sunlight, poetry, prophecy — born to stand in the light. Jason Grace, for all his glory, lives in its absence.
You sit in the Argo’s lower deck that night, fingers resting against your temple, feeling the echo of a migraine you can’t heal. Your powers flicker when your heart hurts. You could ask someone for something, but you don’t want their pity. You don’t want anyone’s.
You just wanted Jason.
And Jason doesn’t want you.
⋆ ˚。 ˚。 ⋆
But oh if only you knew what he was thinking.
Jason punches through the training dummy’s chest with a little too much force.
The wooden torso cracks clean in half. He curses under his breath and wipes sweat off his brow, jaw clenched so tight it aches. His heart hasn’t stopped pounding since he pushed you away.
Gods, he’s a coward.
He told himself it was to protect you. That you deserved someone softer, lighter, better. But the truth is uglier: he’s scared. Scared of being seen. Scared of needing. Scared of you, because you look at him like he’s worthy and he’s not.
So he lies. To you. To himself. Again and again and again.
⋆ ˚。 ˚。 ⋆
When the ship docks for the night near a sleepy hilltop town, most of the crew disembarks. You don’t. You say you’re tired.
Jason sees you sitting alone on the deck, legs folded, fingers weaving tiny beams of light between your hands. You’re glowing. Not just from your powers — from you.
He can’t take it.
He turns to walk away, but you catch him.
“Jason.”
He freezes.
You stand, slower than usual, like your chest is heavy. You don’t smile.
“I don’t want to make anything harder,” you say carefully, “but I need to know the truth.”
He doesn’t move.
You step closer.
“Why did you push me away?”
He hesitates. “I told you—”
“Yeah. You said it was better. But you didn’t say why.”
Jason looks down. At his hands. At his shoes. Anywhere but you. “Because I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re not hurting me by being close to me,” you say. “You’re hurting me by acting like I’m a burden.”
His breath catches.
“I know I’m not Piper,” you continue. “I know I’m… too much sometimes. Too bright. Too loud. I know I love too easily. But I thought you wanted that.”
“I do,” he says, fast, almost involuntary. His eyes shoot up. “I do. Gods, I do.”
You pause.
His shoulders shake. “You don’t get it.”
“Then explain it.”
He runs a hand through his hair, eyes burning. “You make me feel safe. Like maybe I’m allowed to want things. Like maybe I could have a future and not just a mission. And that terrifies me.”
You don’t speak.
Jason’s voice drops. “When you look at me, it’s like you see someone I don’t even recognize. Someone kind. Someone whole.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know who I am. Half the time I feel like I’m stitched together out of other people’s expectations. I was Praetor. I was a weapon. I’m supposed to be a hero. But when I’m with you, none of that works. You look at me like I’m enough. And I don’t think I am.”
There it is.
The crack in his voice. The quake under the calm. You step toward him, barely breathing.
“I didn’t fall for the hero,” you say gently. “I fell for the boy who reads by lamplight when no one’s watching. The one who brings Leo extra tools and never asks for thanks.”
Jason looks at you like he’s drowning.
“I fell for the boy who made me laugh when I thought I couldn’t anymore. You don’t have to be good for me, Jason. You just have to be you.”
You raise a hand. Slowly. Carefully. And touch his jaw.
He doesn’t pull away.
“You don’t have to earn love,” you whisper. “You just have to let it in.”
Jason trembles.
And then he breaks.
His arms are around you in seconds, burying his face into your shoulder, gripping your back like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. You hold him just as tightly. You feel him exhale like it’s the first breath he’s allowed himself in weeks.
“I’m so tired of pretending I don’t need anyone,” he whispers.
“I know,” you say, threading your fingers through his hair. “You don’t have to, not with me.”
You don’t kiss. Not right away.
You just hold each other on the deck of the Argo II, as the stars burn overhead.
But eventually, as the silence softens, Jason tilts your chin. His hands are gentler now. More sure.
“I’m still scared,” he says. “But I think I’d rather be scared with you than brave without you.”
You smile, a little watery.
“That’s the smartest thing you’ve ever said, Grace.”
He laughs quietly, and then finally he kisses you.
And you taste the truth in it.
Because light doesn’t lie.
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✧─── I hope this was what you were looking for!! Thank you so much for the request this was so fun to write.
✧─── Also just realized it’s Leo’s birthday tomorrow or is it today??
for some reason i had like a thousand problems posting this so if something's off that is why!!
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sergeantbarnessdoll · 11 hours ago
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Imagine Y/n is Bucky’s daughter and was 2 years old when he fell from the train and when Hydra got their hands on both her and her Dad. They injected her with the super serum right in front of Bucky when he first woke up after they gave him a metal arm and he wouldn’t been so angry and scared seeing Hydra have his daughter 🥺 But they then put her in cryo for years and didn’t get her out until 11-12 years before the events of CA: Winter Soldier happened, and Pierce decided he’d take Y/n out of cryo and raise her himself, and Y/n being so young would’ve believed him when he said he’s her father. But she definitely saw Bucky throughout the years, as Winter Soldier, like he’d show up at the house when Pierce wanted to speak with him, like he did in Winter Soldier, and Y/n always felt like there was something familiar about him and she brought it up to her “Dad” Pierce and he’d insist she’s just “seen him around” because he “works for him” but she always felt there was something more going on. Y/n is around 13-14 when Winter Soldier happens, and she’s up late so she sees when Bucky shows up in the dark (when Pierce is in the kitchen) and she can’t stop looking at him but Pierce tells her to go to bed early and not come out of her room while him and the Soldier “work”. She feels like something isn’t right especially after she peaks out of her room and sees her “Dad” Pierce shoot their maid. She’d hold her mouth so they don’t hear her scream when she witnesses it and immediately decides to run away. Maybe because she’s been raised knowing about spy stuff, SHEILD stuff, and the Avengers, she’s gotten really good at tech stuff like hacking/tracking, and while she’s never met the Avengers or anyone at SHEILD for that matter (as Pierce kept her a secret, especially because he wouldn’t want Steve to see her as he’d recognize his niece), she thinks the best thing to do is to find an Avenger, so she tracks down Steve and Nat and finds them at Sam’s apartment. Like imagine she knocks on the door and Steve, Nat, and Sam are all very on edge and defensive until Sam opens the door and sees it’s a little girl. She’d explain she’s “Pierce’s daughter” and that he did something bad and has a strange, but familiar man in his kitchen (Bucky, her real Dad). Maybe Steve, after looking at Y/n for a second, recognizes her as his niece that he hasn’t seen since she was 2 years old in 1945. He’d tell her that the guy she saw is her real Dad, that Pierce is not her Dad, that Hydra took her when she was little 🥺
I can imagine Bucky having a flashback of Y/N the first time he sees her when he’s the Winter Soldier, but he would be so brainwashed that he wouldn’t be sure if the girl he’s looking at is his daughter or not so he doesn’t think much of it. Y/N would be confused and curious the first time she sees the Winter Soldier in her kitchen. Even though Pierce says she’s seen him before, she would feel like there’s more to it. Like she knows him. Maybe she does research on him, but she would want more answers than what she seen in the research she did on him and that’s why she shows up to Sam’s apartment to talk to Steve, Sam, and Natasha. Steve would immediately recognize her as Bucky’s daughter and his niece and tries to get her to recognize him. Steve would take her in and take care of her after the helicarrier fight🥺🩵
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sturniolo423 · 1 day ago
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Nathan doe x reader(sls)
A/n: uhhhhh I kinda rlly like this but idk also use of y/n obviously also I just wanna say this is my second fix so it’s not the best so yeaa. Also not proof-read so might be spelling mistakes idk
You both know it’s wrong. The sneaking around, the hiding, because after all they should understand right? I mean you guys are in love, that should mean something to them? They should be happy for you guys.
You and Nate have been dating for about a month in secret because you guys wanted to take it slow before telling anyone just in case it didn’t work out. Nate loved you and you loved Nate and the only problem is that Nate’s best friends are your brothers. Nick, Matt and Chris have been friends with Nate since they started hokey when they were 10, Nick, Matt and Chris are now 19 while Nate is 17 and you are three years younger than your brothers 16.
Today was the day, you and Nate were going to tell them, you both expected them to be happy for you both but boy were you both wrong.
Morning
You just woke up and picked up your phone to scroll on TikTok. It was around 8 when you decided to get up and get ready for the day. You do your makeup, hair, and get dresses. Finally you head downstairs for breakfast. “Morning sleepy head” Nick says as you finish coming down the stairs “usually your down here at like six” Chris says teasing you. “Y’all I just wanted to sleep in” you say slightly laughing. “where’s Matt?” You ask while getting a bowl of cereal. “Oh he went to go get Nathan” Chris says. You just give Chris a small hum. About an hour later Matt arrives back home with Nate. You and Nate have been texting and decided to wait a while before telling them.
The Talk
You walk out to the living room standing in front of everyone. Nate stands up to and stands next to you. Nate clears his through which catches Nick, Matt, and Chris’s attention. They all look at the two of you very skeptical. “We have something we wanna tell you guys” you say excited. “Y/n and I are dating” the triplets freeze looking back and forth between you two. “We have been dating for a month but we decided not to say anything just in case it didn’t workout but we both agreed we should tell you guys” you and Mate are happy, smiles on both of your faces. Than it starts. Chris gets up and goes to his room slamming his door. Nate and your smiles start to disappear. Than Matt goes after Chris. Finally Nick speaks up. “What the hell y/n! There’s a million guys in the world and you chose our best friend! Ya know Chris isn’t going to talk to either of you for a long long time! You both fucked up!” Nick yells “I thought you guys would be happy for us” you say voice trembling “Why the fuck would we be happy y/n your dating our best friend!!” Nick yells as he storms off to his room slamming his door. Leaving you an Nate standing in the living room and a tear falls down your cheek. “Hey baby it’s ok, I’m sorry” Nate says pulling you closer “I-i think it would be best if you leave n-Nate” Nate nods kissing your head and leaving calling an uber.
Explaining
you sat alone on the couch for twenty minutes trying to figure out what to do. Suddenly Matt comes up the stairs from Chris’s room and stops in the living room and looks at you and says “you’re a fucked up person y/n, our best friend since we were ten. And you practically said fuck you and your friendship I’m going to be a hoe and date my brothers best friend” Matt says walking to his room. You sit there Matt’s words hurt like hell, you had thought they would be supportive but you were wrong. ‘Am I a fucked up person’ you start to wonder, I mean after all you are dating your brothers best friends. Finally you got up and walked downstairs to Chris’s room and knocked “go the ruck away Y/n” Chris hissed as you knocked “c-can I talk to you?” You ask wanting to explain yourself “what” Chris says sternly. You open Chris’s bedroom door and stand slightly in the doorway. “I thought you guys would be happy for us” you say shyly, not wanting to get screamed at again “Happy?” Chris laughs “you really thought we would be Happy that you’ve been dating our best friend? Are you actually fucking insane y/n?” Chris says raising his voice and getting fed up with you. “Chris im sorry, I didnt think it would hurt you this much, but-“ you get cut off by Chris “no buts y/n you fucked up and so did Nate and quit frankly I never want to speak to either of you ever again but I know I have to” Chris says “Chris we are happy and in love! And I know it’s wrong because he is your guys best friend but doesn’t it mean something to you that him and I are happy!” You say now raising your voice “That should mean something to me y/n? It should mean something to YOU that he is my best friend!” Chris is now yelling at you, “it does mean something to me chris! It does but you should care about our happiness!” You say and you really mean it, they should care that You and Nate are happy. “God y/n do you ever care about anyone but yourself?!” Chris says still yelling but you can tell in his voice that he is even more pissed than before. Chris’s words sting, and I tear falls down your cheek. “Oh my god y/n your so fucking dramatic, you have absolutely no reason to be fucking crying” Chris says practically laughing at the fact that your crying. You have no words, so you just turn around walking out of his room and shutting his door.
Solution
it’s been a few hours since everything happened. Nate is currently calling you so you answer. “Hey are you ok? What happened? I knew I shouldn’t have left.” Nate says frantically. “Uh im fine, I tried to talk to them but they just yelled at me and I don’t know what to do, i hate to say it but I think we should b-break up” you say voice trembling. At first Nate is silent or liking the idea of having to break up to keep your brothers happy, especially because if you guys broke up the chances of Nick, Matt, and Chris still being friends with Nate after are very slim. Nate finally speaks up “babe I love you and I always will and I don’t want to break up because of them just to make them happy…but it would be best for you so they don’t disown you.” You and Nate go quite “so..does this mean we are…d-done?” You say with tears down your face “I think so” Nate says quietly “b-bye” you mange to get out before you hang up and through your phone on the ground and cry.
To Harsh?
it’s been twenty minutes. The house is silent, Nick, Matt and Chris sitting on the couch, you silently crying in you room. “Do you guys think we were to harsh on her?” Matt says breaking the silence “Matt is that even a question? She’s dating our best friend. No I don’t think k we were to harsh” Chris says putting his phone on his lap. “Yea I know but if they are happy shouldn’t we be?” Matt asks “Matt come on are you being serious? She is literally dating our best friend the friend we have had for seven years not even caring how it would affect us”. Chris says getting mad “I hate to say it Chris, but Matt does have a point, I mean at least it’s Nate and not some jackass that’s five years older than her and abusive. Like yea we have known him for seven years but that’s kinda a good thing if she’s dating him” nick says realizing he was to harsh. “Yea I guess but like a month! They have been hiding for a month” Chris says trying to think of any reason to be upset with them, not wanting to admit they have a point. “Yea because like y/n said, they waited just in case it didn’t work out” Nick tells Chris “yea but that doesn’t make sense!” Chris claims “yea it does, think about it this way, if they told us when they first got together how would we have reacted if they broke up, we probably would hate Nate” Matt explains “y-yes I guess” Chris finally admits. “I think we should go apologize” Chris says. Matt and Nick nod in agreement.
Too late
Nick, Matt, and Chris go upstairs to your room and knock on your door. You don’t say anything so the slowly open your door. “Hey y/n” Chris says quietly. “What the fuck do you guys want” you say with a sniffle. “We wanted to apologize” Nick says “yea for yelling at you” Matt adds “yea y/n I’m really sorry, as long as your happy and he treats you right, I shouldn’t have yelled at you” Chris says “we all shouldn’t have yelled at you y/n we really are sorry” Matt adds “it’s just hard because he is our best friend and you are our sister and we didn’t want to loose Nate but we are glad your happy” Nick says. There’s silence, your still laying on her bed eyes red from crying, room dark, Nick, Matt, and, Chris standing in her room. “Please say something y/n” Chris says feeling really bad. “It’s too late.” You say. Nick, Matt, and Chris all share a glance with each other before Matt speaks up “what do you mean it’s too late.” Matt asks skeptical on what you mean. “It’s too late. We broke up.” You say explaining what you mean. They all share another glance only this time they all look really upset with themselves. “W-why would you guys break up?” Chris asks not realizing how dumb of a question it is. You scoff and slightly laugh “your joking right? Are you that much of an idiot that you have to ask that? We broke up for you guys.” You say.
I Love You
There’s silence than the door bell rings, you all ignore it. Than you get a call from Nate so you answer it. “Please open the fucking door y/n, please” you hang up and leave your room and go to the door. Nick, Matt, and Chris follow you. You open the door and Nate hugs you immediately before you can even react. “Y/n I love you and I don’t want to be with anyone else, I don’t wanna not be together y/n. I love you so much” Nate says while hugging you tightly. “I love you to Nate” You say to him. The triplets just watch and smile but they still feel bad but they are glad you both are happy.
The End
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saveahorserideamilf · 3 days ago
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Signet Analysis
I’ve become obsessed with the empyrean series, so here is a deep dive into why I think everyone has their signets:
(ONYX STORM SPOILERS AHEAD)
Violet (Lightning): This one isn’t too difficult-she was at a disadvantage (other riders don’t have to deal with joints constantly popping out and bones breaking easily), so nature gave her raw, unfiltered power through lightning to level the playing field (and then some).
Violet (Dream Walking): Now, I know the explanation for this in the book is that Violet needed to know what Andarna was dreaming about because she missed her. Of course, I think that’s part of it, but I think it goes deeper than that. Violet wants to know people wholly and completely. Letting her in halfway isn’t enough for her. What better way to really, truly see someone than to wonder into their unconscious minds?
(I’m just going to ignore Xaden for this since his were both fully explained in the book.)
Rhiannon (Retrieval/Materializing): This one is interesting—I had definitely wondered why someone as strong or powerful as Rhi didn’t seem to have a “fighting” signet. But, it makes sense. Rhiannon is the squad leader and strategist. The battlefield is her chessboard, and she needs to be able to move and set her pieces before anyone can even blink. So, she literally moves things around in the blink of an eye.
Ridoc (Ice-Wielding): Ridoc is a bit harder since his signet is so common. I think the main thing about his ice is that it’s crazy versatile. Need to protect from fire? Ice. Need to kill a wyvern or two? Ice. Need to get the swelling down after you’ve been punched? Ice. Ridoc’s versatility allows him what he needs the most: to be useful and show up for the people he loves.
Sawyer (Metallurgy): This is even harder; we almost never see Sawyer use his signet. My connection is based off what we know about Sawyer: he is a Hard. Worker. That mf wants to earn everything he gets. He went through first year all over again. He spent months after losing his leg feeling like he needed to earn back the right to being a rider. He works for what he has and he wouldn’t have things handed to him. I think of metal work as very hands-on and labor intensive. It makes sense that he would have a signet that makes him work, because that’s what he wants to do. (This might be a reach but I feel like it’s at least in the right direction.)
Aaric (Precognition): Oh my God. This reveal was the best. I love this signet for him. It makes a lot of sense when you look at the part where Quest Squad is in Hedotis and Aaric stayed quiet for a while before speaking up because he prefers to feel out a situation and understand what’s happening fully before he makes a decision. He’s the opposite of his brother: not impulsive in the slightest, wise, and pragmatic. Of course he would manifest as a precog—it’s the best way for him to make informed decisions.
Dain (Memory-Seeing): Dain’s signet is all about empathy to me. At first, I thought it was maybe because he’s a skeptic who needs hard proof to believe something. But the more I thought about it, the more I start to think that what Dain really needed was the ability to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. He has a hard time looking outside his own perspective. To be able to go into someone else’s memories, to literally see things from their point of view, is what he needed most.
Bodhi (Signet-Countering): Oh, my love. This one is very younger sibling coded. Of course, we know Bodhi’s signet exists for balance, mostly of Xaden. But this runs so much deeper than just balance. When Bodhi and Garrick find Vi and Xaden after the assassination attempt in FW, Bodhi just says, “I guess we’re on clean up duty.” He automatically knows this because he’s been on Xaden clean up duty his entire life. This is not a dig at Xaden; mans got some serious shit going on and someone has to do the things he does. But from Bodhi’s perspective, he can only ever be mild, because they can’t have both cousins going wild. His signet isn’t the balance—he is. Every time Xaden starts a fire to save Violet or Aretia or any noble cause, Bodhi is the one left with the ashes in the aftermath. He is the one people turn to and say, “So are you going to clean this up?” And he does, every time.
Imogen (Memory Wiping): Imogen is a very guarded person. She is slow to trust and does let like to let people in. It makes sense that her signet is a sort of damage control. If her guard slips, her signet is the backup. She can protect herself and the people she holds close this way.
Imogen (?): Ok, so when I read the book, I thought her second signet was turning things to stone, kind of like a medusa thing. But I’ve seen a lot of people say they think it’s earth-wielding, so I could be wrong. Either way, I think I would have to wait for the next book to see more of her second signet before I could analyze why she has it beyond yet again, guarding herself and her loved ones.
Garrick (Air-Wielding): I think Garrick’s signet serves a similar purpose to Ridoc’s. Garrick is typically the breezy, light friend, but he can just as easily be deadly when needed. Wind could be a gentle breeze, or a violent gale that throws you off a cliff.
Garrick (Distance-Walking): This one isn’t going to be a novel analysis—not that any of them are lmao. He needs to be able to help everyone all the time. The best way to do that? Be across the continent in 3.5.
Sloane (Siphoning): Sloane has a massive problem with feeling powerless. It’s in the way that she’s constantly trying to help the older cadets with important missions, the way she puts on such an angry yet unaffected mask, and the way she grieves Liam. She tries to appear like she is the most self-sufficient, ass-kicking rider, and then we see her immediately struggle with challenges. She appears powerful as hell, but feels completely powerless. I think a lot of this idea of needing to be seen this way is because all people ever tell her is how much her brother helped them, how much they needed him. She wants to live up to that and be needed as well. She needs to be useful, damnit. Hence manifesting as a literally human battery.
Brennan (Mending): I think most of us have seen the soul-crushing theory that Brennan manifested as a mender because he just wanted to help Violet after seeing her in pain for so long. I don’t disagree with that. What I do want to emphasize is less why Brennan manifested mending and more why mending manifested him. The thing about being a mender is that there are always going to be more injuries than you can fix. If just any person were to be given mending, they’d probably burn themselves out and die day one. But Brennan is strategic. He’s able to separate his feelings from logic. We see this best when he tells Violet to pick one objective and one objective only. Violet’s hopeful mind can’t help but try to save everyone. Brennan, on the other hand, knows that saving everyone is impossible. He’s great at triage, and that’s why he is a great mender.
Mira (Shielding): This is again, not novel. Mira needs to protect people. She’s always been the strong, unbreaking one. That’s why she is a human shield. She will not crack if it means others getting hurt.
Okay, I’ll shut up for now. I just desperately needed to get this out of my brain 😭
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skrunkled · 1 day ago
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Theory Time™: "WHO IS THE KNIGHT!! WHO IS IT!!!!"
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...so we all agree its dess right? Pretty much everything about the knight, the antlers, the bat, the flavor text, points to it being december (say for the it's suspiciously papyrus shaped figure) and people have layed out the evidence time and time again.
So thats it right? Theory Time™ over? It would be, but I can't shake the feeling that's not the whole story, and every time I look back at the new information we got in chapters 3&4 I feel even more strongly that we're missing a big piece of the knight's identity
SO!!! Here's my best shot explaining why I think the Roaring Knight isnt December holiday, why it also isnt not December holiday(?), but instead why the Roaring Knight I think might maybe probably be a secret, far more concerning third thing!
First order of business,
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How does the knight take Undyne to the shelter?
I absolutely understand how the knight overpowers undyne in the dark world, she's only been in the dark world for a grand total of like 15 seconds, but how does the knight take her out of the dark world and drag her all the way through town into the shelter?
We know that Undyne, even if not formally trained in deltarune, is still crazy strong in the light world, she was literally bench pressing a car in chapter 2
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so if the knight is December, I have a hard time believing she could still physically drag Undyne into the shelter dark world all the way across town faster than kris and susie can run once they're in the light world and the knight no longer has access to all its darkness magic or dark world levels or whatever
Maybe because its nighttime the knight is able to retain some of its power and thats how december could do it? Seam does have the line "You dont want to get caught when the sun goes down..." but kris and susie dont retain anything from their dark world personas so I dont think thats the case
Either way, onto the second order of business
December is missing right?
Noelle is desperately searching online for any trace of her, we're prompted to "find her" in the spamton sweepstakes secret pages, her theme (presumably) is titled Lost Girl, and Asgore has a conspiricy corkboard in his basement which reads to me as his attempt to track her down since theres a lot implying he's connected to her dissapearence
...but the knight is right here, hopping around town making dark worlds
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what makes this incongruous to me is that Carol and Kris are both directly working with the knight, kris directly assisting the knight by making the TV World fountain and holding back when confronting them, and Carol talking with kris on the phone about the plan to "Police... sacrifice... next week..." which is presumably why the knight took Undyne to the shelter in the first place
So if Carol and Kris are both working with the knight, and the knight is December, wouldn't they tell someone that they found her? Would they at least tell Rudy or Noelle??
Carol also has a corkboard in her room that we see during the vent section where we see asgore monolouge, what would she have that for if its not implying shes also searching for dess?
My best guess is something horrible happened to her and they dont want to tell anyone, but i'll get back to that idea later once i'm done laying out all my evidence. Even if thats the case though, why all the fuss about finding her when she's got 100% more screen time than Papyrus and she appears in encounters you literally cannot miss no matter how you play the game?
In any case, on to exhibit no.3
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↑ how does the knight do that???
looking at the way the knight moves and acts during the few enounters we have with them, they dont seem to act like a physical person like the lightners do, which December probably should if this is her
it shape shifts into that little marble thingy for one, which is something we dont see any of the other lightners come close to doing
Instead, the knight seems to act a lot like some specific darkners and darkner adjacent things!
Firstly, it floats and flies around everywhere, which is something we only see Ralsei do, specifically only in scenes involving the knight
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Ralsei also poofs out of existance and becomes "a pile of fluff" when he goes down in battle, which is the closest thing to the kind of shape shifting the knight does where it becomes something much smaller than its original form
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The Knight, however, does something much more interesting when taking significant damage
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When hit with susie's rude buster or kris's solo attacks, and at the end of the fight after surviving the full screen attack, the knight glitches with this audio-wave-looking static effect, which is incredibly reminiscent of the Titan and Titan Spawn, who have a similar effect when taking damage albeit horizontally instead of vertically
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The Knight also share's its visual appearence with the Titan and it's spawn, being pitch black with white lineart and "faces"
What exactly this suggests the knight is i'll get back to later, but all this makes me really think the knight is not actually a lightner like Dess would (presumably) be
Finally, for my last bit of evidence for why I dont think the knight is dess before I get to what I do think the knight is,
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UNUSED !
I dont actually consider this "evidence" since we dont actually have any real indication of who the character speaking here is, but the best candidate that we can conceptualize is Dess, so if anything I just wanted to mention it since its another thing giving me pause on the idea that the Knight is truely December since it gives us another amazing candidate for Dess's whereabouts, even if its like the shakiest foundation to base a theory off of possible
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Alright, we're halfway through the theory! This is the second one of these long analysis posts i've made (my last one was about GALLERY) so I hope its making some sense!!
To summarize, I dont think the Roaring Knight is actually literally December Holiday because it behaves really strangely in both the light world and dark world in ways that a lightner like Dess probably shouldnt. The next bit of the theory is going to be about what I actually think the Roaring Knight might be, which is the bit of the theory that'll be much more of speculation since that question is much broader than "is the knight actually dess"
Before we get into that though, take a break if you need to! Remember to get some water, stretch a bit, whatever you need to be comfortable!!
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Alrighty!! So, if the Roaring Knight isn't December Holiday, who is? Why does literally everything about them scream December Holiday??
As established I dont think Dess is literally the knight, but I do think that the knight is in some way based off of her or created in her image! But why? how? in what way? by who?
One line that really stuck out to me when I was thinking about this is this dialogue from chapter 3's egg room,
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This alone isnt much to go off of aside from the connection that the knight is entirely monochrome, but in chapter 4's egg room we get this text from checking the bookcase
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The only other things that are described as "like glass" are shadow crystals, and we see first hand by winning beating the knight in chapter 3 and chipping it's sword that the knight is made of them. Additionally, the first thing the knight does when we confront it is sparkle and then turn around crying, which feels like an overt connection to that book in the egg room
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To give it a shot in the dark, I think that the thing that grew from the bitter water was the knight, and by extension the "fallen star" was Dess, who fell into wherever the dark place from the unused code is and accidentally created the knight. The knight looks like dess, it moves like dess, it has things dess would have, and to take it a step further it might even effectively be Dess's OC (in the same way the god of hyperdeath was asriel's) considering the monochrome handmade posters for fake bands in her room, one of which is sporting a sword extremely prominently
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I think the way Dess accidentally created the knight has to do with the character in the unused code, who i'm assuming is Dess, talking about how they're unsure if they're awake or dreaming. I think Dess, lost in the fiction of some darker than dark world, lost conception of what is or is not reality and dreamt the knight into existance without even realizing she was dreaming, thereby creating fiction that truly believes itself to be real (or something of the like). This could explain why the knight and the shadow crystals are so powerful, and also why the crystals stay the same in the light world and the dark world, because the knight is something like a lightner (fiction that believes itself to be real) made from the esoteric essence of fiction, darkness.
The knight mimics December, using her bat, having her horns, doing figure skating movements, even crying like she presumably was at the moment she created the knight because the knight was born from her subconcious. Maybe, in losing whether or not she was dreaming or awake, Dess also lost a full grip on her identity and imagined herself a new one without realizing it, resulting in the knight?
This also reminds me of this one piece of flavor text from the fight with the titan spawn that im so curious about,
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what if having these things, which are already similar to the knight, even having another line of flavor text that says "it sputtered in a voice like crushed glass" bring up the question of where your identity comes from is maybe an allusion the knight being an imagined concept of the self which is just as real as the lightners by implying all concepts of the self are essentially fiction?
I dont know, im trying my best here :<
The important thing though, reguardless of what exactly the knight is, is that the knight is some sort of fictional copy of December Holiday made of shadow crystals
This is why I think the knight can kidnap Undyne in the light world, since shadow crystals are still the same there the knight is probably still some kinda amalgamated shadow crystal beast or something in the light world, or maybe its still the knight
I think its also aluded to in chapter two when you visit the police station and talk to the dogs, who mention some kind of horrifying merciless something in the woods by the holiday manor
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....and thats about it!! Lets go over my conclusions one more time, ranked in order of what I think is most likely!
The knight isn't actually literally December Holiday, but instead something based off of her
2. The knight is lurking around hometown in the form of some terrifying shadow crystal beast
3. Dess is the character speaking in the "UNUSED" code
4. Dess is also the "fallen star" mentioned in the chapter 4 egg room, and accidentally created the knight as a fictionalized version of her identity that believes itself to be real by losing track of reality and fiction
Congrats on making it to the end!! Im trying my best to make sense of all this information and contort it into some kind of conclusion that makes sense and works with the themes of the game, but theres so much to unpack here that its hard to even know where to start (i didnt even mention the 1225 gumball machine room...)
Last time I did one of these I made a bunch of mistakes, so please do let me know in the comments if you catch anything!! Also let me know what you guys think about this, i'm so curious to know all your guys' interpretations!!!
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