#i just think it doesn't come up in the game at all

[woso-dreamzzz]

If You Were My Little Girl II

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Things are looking up

Alexia watches from the stands.

They're mostly empty, like almost all Barcelona B matches.

Women's football has only really started picking up steam recently but only at the top flight. The lower level leagues are still having a bit of a popularity issue.

But Alexia, for once, finds that she doesn't mind.

Because it means she can sit practically alone in the stands as she watches the home match.

A notepad sits on her lap, a pen tapping against the pages thoughtfully as she watches.

Barcelona B are good and Alexia has never expected anything different. She's seen the system at work many times as La Masia churns out players like Aitana and Pina and Jana, and more recently Vicky and Martina.

There's a reason so many clubs wants La Masia products.

They're all good players but even now, Alexia can tell a great player when she sees one.

You rise up among the crowd in the box and slam the ball into the goal, the net rippling with the force of the shot.

The best part, Alexia thinks, is that you didn't even need a moment to control the ball, hitting it in on the volley and grinning as your teammates practically dogpile you.

A hattrick in ten minutes is impressive in any league and Alexia makes another note in her notebook, humming softly to herself.

She rises out of her seat at the end of the match, disappearing into the building and out the doors.

It takes another half an hour for you to appear again, hair damp and an old crew neck sweater that Alexia's pretty sure is Alba's being tugged over your head.

You slip into the passenger seat, throwing your bag into the backseat and Alexia pulls your head down to press a kiss against the side of it.

You smile shyly at her as she offers up the fries she'd bought for a job well done.

"You did good, kid," She says," Very impressive."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. But I think we're going to work on evading slide tackles next," Alexia says as she drives off," We're trying to keep those ankles of yours intact, alright? I'm going to need them this season."

You roll your eyes and Alexia clicks her tongue.

"Don't roll your eyes at me," She says," I've got a good feeling about that meeting later in the week. A great feeling, actually. You should have one too."

"I'm managing expectations."

Alexia looks at you fondly. "Well, we'll see which one of us is right in a few days."

She lets you choose the music in the car, like she always does when you've scored a goal and you pull up to the apartment a lot quicker than you want to seeing as you're in the middle of singing along to your favourite song but, still, you drag yourself out of the car and up the stairs.

"How was the match?" Olga asks as she greets Alexia with a kiss on the lips.

"She did very well," Alexia brags," A hattrick within the first ten minutes and another goal in injury time."

"Exciting," Olga says indulgently as Alexia grins, already giving her running commentary of everything that happened during the match.

You escape though, hurrying to raid the cupboards before Alexia finally comes to her senses and tries to stop you 'spoiling' your dinner.

You don't know if there's any way to thank Alexia for what she's done for you.

Just three months ago, you were convinced that you were going to quit. You had no passion for the game, no hope of what your future was going to be but now all of that had changed.

You had direction. You had a manager. You had new boots and a place to live that wasn't a group home and support and love and everything seemed to be coming together for you.

A toe pokes you in the leg.

"Move."

"Alexia says that if you're trying to nap on her sofa again then I don't have to move," You tell Alba, who huffs and pokes you with her toe again," She also says that you have your own apartment and should stop mooching of us."

"But Olga's a better cook than me," Alba complains and you roll your eyes.

"Aren't you an adult? Even I can cook."

"Yeah but it's not like you could mooch off your sist-"

Alba falls silent quickly and you pretend to not notice what she was going to say for both hers and your own sakes.

The topic of your sister is kind of off limits when you're in the room. It's not completely banned because Alexia's still Jenni's national teammate but she's not really spoken about if you're in the room.

Alba's face flashes with terror for a moment so you pretend you don't notice her slip up ever though it sends a bolt of lightning into your stomach, a deep pit forming there.

It works for the most part, everyone in the house pretending Jenni isn't who she is to you, pretending that she's just Alexia's teammate and not her friend and ex, pretending that Alexia fostering you isn't her walking on a tight rope because Jenni doesn't know.

All Jenni knows is that you didn't quit when she told you to.

Jenni doesn't know that you live with Alexia. Jenni doesn't know anything. You doubt she even thinks about you when she's got a life far away in Mexico.

She lives there, far away from you and your life here in Barcelona.

She lives there and her presence is hardly ever mentioned around you.

Life is good at Alexia and Olga's house. Life is even good at training, though you could do without the smug little smirk Alexia has on her face when she picks you up.

"You already knew!" You accuse her, waving a finger in her face.

"Knew?" She asks, lips curl up in what can only be described as pure smugness," Knew what?"

"Right, who told you? Go on. Who was it?"

Alexia grins. "You do realise I am the captain? Any time they're looking to bring someone in, they ask me my opinion."

You roll your eyes. "Yeah and I'm sure you gave it."

"You're a good player. A great player," Alexia says," All I did was tell them what they already know."

You look down at your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. You want to be mad at her, to yell at her for keeping this from you. Maybe even yell at her for promising to the staff something you're not but you know she hasn't done that.

If she thought you weren't ready, she would have told them that.

But Alexia didn't. She didn't tell them to let you have a bit more time with the B team. She didn't tell them that you don't quite have what it takes.

"Thanks."

Alexia smiles at you as she drives home, a comfortable silence enveloping you both until your hand is on the door handle.

You stop.

"When I open this door, there's going to be a party, isn't there?"

"I may have told Olga...who told Mami...who told Alba...who told the rest of the family..."

"Is that a yes?"

"Possibly..."

"And there's no getting out of this?"

Alexia ruffles your hair, a soft kiss being pressed to the side of your head. "They're here to celebrate you."

You suck in a breath, just ready to turn the handle when the sound of the lift doors opening chimes down the corridor.

Both you and Alexia turn your heads towards.

It's just a fleeting second.

Just a moment.

But your good mood plummets as the door opens.

Alexia's hand tightens on your shoulder, pushing you slightly behind her and putting herself between you and the elevator.

Between you and Jenni.

[peppermintquartz]

Buck volunteers for the Thanksgiving shift. When Maddie asks, he apologizes, saying, "I don't really feel festive right now. But keep some leftovers for me?"

On the day, firehouses around the country all have similar calls to deal with: kitchen grease fires from frying turkeys, sprains in backyard games of football, people injuring one another because "did you hear what she said about our Emma/Francis/Kailey?". Buck is kept too busy to think, and it's nice having the time to catch up with Ravi, who's thinking of going to school to study law.

Their brothers and sisters in uniform also drop off dishes at the station, so between calls, they get pretty good food. Captain Graham gives them an hour offline after four consecutive calls. Buck collapses into a chair and serves himself pasta salad and a delicious honey baked ham, while his dinner rolls warm up in the oven.

He's scrolling through his phone, diligently avoiding the messaging apps, when a message preview pops up.

Tommy.

Buck almost drops his fork. He scrambles away from the dinner table, even though no one on C shift will try to take his phone from him, and finds a spot in the stairwell to read it.

Tommy: hope you have a good & safe Thanksgiving

As he's reading, another bubble appears and Buck's heart skips several beats, but this time it doesn't disappear. A second message arrives, followed by a third.

Tommy: don't know why I texted that

Tommy: guess I just wanted to say something to you

Tommy: you don't have to reply

Tommy: anyway. Happy holidays

Buck feels a slight loosening of the vice around his heart that has been there since that night. With a smile on his face, he types, deletes, types again.

Buck: happy Thanksgiving to you too

Buck: how many kitchen grease fires you got this year? We had 3

Tommy: you're working today?

Tommy: 4, but one of it was in the backyard

They're having a conversation. They're having an actual casual conversation, as easy as they used to on calmer shifts. Buck wants to cry. But he has to answer Tommy's question or have this conversation end too soon. Thinking about his options, he decides that he has nothing to lose anyway.

Buck: I didn't wanna sit around and smile and pretend I'm thankful for everything

Buck: it's better to keep busy

Tommy: I know that feeling

Tommy: I'm sorry

Buck: I'm sorry too

Buck: I wish we could've celebrated together

Buck: I would've said that I'm thankful for you

Tommy: I would have said that too

Tommy: I'm still thankful for you jsyk. I'll always be grateful to have got to know you

Does Tommy think he can't stay in Buck's life just because they broke up?

Buck: I don't think you know me well enough

Tommy: sorry

Buck wishes he'd run after Tommy that night, or done something since to show that he wants Tommy. Well, here's your chance, his brain reminds him. Do something.

He takes a deep breath. Then he types.

Buck: I want to meet. If I come over after Thanksgiving shift, will you please be home?

Tommy: is that a good idea

Buck: idk. But I can't stop thinking about you, and I miss you, and I wanna know what I did wrong. I wanna meet.

Tommy: I miss you too. You didn't do anything wrong, I just didn't want to... Idk. I didn't want to get my hopes up too much.

Buck: we need to talk in person. Texting is not good enough.

It isn't. He needs to see Tommy again. Tommy with his storm blue eyes and tender smile and broad shoulders and soft clothes. Tommy whose crinkly smile drives Buck a little (a lot) insane. Tommy whose lips he now knows the shape of by touch alone, whose body he has mapped out in detail, who knows how it feels to be inside Buck in the most intimate of ways.

He waits for a response. Hopes there will be one. It comes several minutes after, like Tommy had to really think about it.

Tommy: maybe not immediately after Thanksgiving shift

Tommy: are you off on Monday

The relief that crashes into Buck feels almost as overwhelming as the tsunami he was caught in years ago.

Buck: yes

Buck: your place this time

Buck: I'll bring cake

Tommy: you don't have to bribe me to open the door

Buck: no I just baked too much stuff is all. I'll explain when we meet

Buck: I'm really thankful you texted

Tommy: I'm thankful you replied

Tommy: have a good rest of the shift, Evan

It's Evan again. Buck can't hide his smile at all. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he goes back to dinner. Monday can't be here fast enough.

[jeshala]

Please understand though, or at least put in mind not to forgive but just to understand, nobody would agree with you harder than all the ex soldiers I know. Recruiters and the military have been preying on people for so long. It's not college education they're after in a lot of cases, it's freedom from abuse or poverty. These are children who have been and continue to be indoctrinated.

Consider Twitch. I've seen countless ads for military recruiters that act like it's just like video games and super easy and you get to fly a drone! These aren't aimed at adults. It's propaganda, and there's reasons why it's effective, especially on young people. This doesn't even get into the part where the recruiters deliberately set up shop around lower class neighborhoods and offer you the chance to get out and be something.

We've been bit by bit fed this awful message of patriotism and being heroic in horrible, subtle ways. Football games. Military choirs performing on variety shows. Spots on the news about how respected veterans are instead of the after effects of the lie they were told where so many live in hell for the rest of their lives, being denied care. But that won't make the ten o'clock and the station manager doesn't want to make the military look bad, so you don't hear about the halfway houses and substance abuse and decades of nightmares beyond belief. This is because they hate what they've done and who they became.

It's all horrible. Just... think about it, okay? Don't condone the war machine, god please rail against that with every fiber of your being. Consider, though, the part where children are brainwashed (I hate that word but I cannot think of a better one) and shoved into a cult, essentially.

You'll have to excuse me. My parents saw what happened after WWII to their parents (whose parents were in WWI), then grew up with McCarthyism and the subsequent Korea and Vietnam atrocities. They were lower class, as were their peers.

Then their age group had kids, and they still lived in poverty, so I watched as my peers and namely my cousin went off to Iraq and Afghanistan.

He emancipated himself at 17 to get away from an abusive, substance addicted family and I PROMISE did not come away thinking they should have been there.

He's 10 years sober now. But he was a horrible drunk... whose son ran off to the air force because he saw no other way.

So just give that a consideration and also burn this mother down.

[a1ecmcdowell]

dean winchester x angel!reader — take a shot or six.

or, dean's feeling it five in, but he's not going to let you win. or, dove beats dean at his own game.

cw, drinking, alcohol, tipsy dean sjkefdh, sexual tension SORRY

word count:

notes, by @depressionbarbie2023's suggestion... except i make it more tension riddled because i like my cute stuff with a dash of spice hehehe HOPE U LIKE IT STILL

★ ˚⋆

how were you supposed to know that the glass decanter on the accent table next to dean's chair was whiskey? he's staring at you now, like you just killed his entire family with your bare hands, as you hold a crystal glass full of it in between your nimble fingers.

you blink. his eye twitches.

"do you know how long that whiskey aged before it got to me?" he asks you slowly, like any of those words or processes are meant to ring any sort of bell in your head.

you shake your head. "why... do you let a drink age?"

another eye twitch. "enrichens the flavor." he nods toward the glass in your hand, nearly spilling over the brim. quickly, you raise the glass to try and alleviate the problem, sipping on the overflowing top loudly. "tastes good, doesn't it?"

your shoulders lift in a mindless shrug. it burns in your throat for a split second, but other than that, it tastes like caramelized oak, like wind through a nighttime forest, as sweet and secretive.

"what do you mean by—" his shoulders lift now, in a mockery of your shrug, which does nothing but make your head tilt in confusion. dean's quirks were something you were used to, at this point, but never before had you not been able to clue together why he was behaving like he was. "that's a 15-year old whiskey you're drinking like water. gimme that."

his boots echo on the solid floor as he stomps up to you, snatching the crystal glass from your fingers, letting the liquid slosh over the top and onto the both of your hands. dean gestures with his head again, his lips pursed in that look that you think, honestly, is reserved solely for you. "c'mon. lick it up. no wasting this shit."

being bossed around, and being bossed around by dean, is something you don't often let fly. his eyes stay on you as he lifts the glass to his lips, taking his own mindful sip, slow and deliberate like he's working it around his tongue before he swallows. much to the opposite of how you'd been throwing back the entirety of the decanter.

"oh, jesus christ," he grumbles when you actually do start to lick it off of your skin, the salt and the sweet burn making a surprisingly decent flavor, to his clear chagrin.

like always, it seems you do the wrong thing. since he'd shown you how to drive baby, arms around your body as he held you steady, dean had been pulling back. he was already a bit distant, but now? it felt like you were strangers all over again, and he wouldn't tell you what you'd done wrong.

it didn't stop you from coming around, though; your duty was to help the winchesters, and unfortunately for dean, helping him through his disdain for you was a part of that.

his lips stay pushed together in that signature irritated dean look, wrinkles embedded in the corners of his mouth, eyes betraying nothing of the thoughts in his head.

"i'm sorr—"

"don't even start," dean shoots back sternly, turning to weave out of the pillars of the living space and toward the kitchen area. naturally, you're inclined to follow him, your lips already downturned into a frown that could only be described as insistent. why couldn't he see or accept that you were sorry? "don't even know what you're apologizin' for."

he's opening cabinets too tall for you to reach with his free hand, eyes narrowing as he searches for something. "yes i do," you say fiercely, hurt flashing across your face at the accusation. "i upset you, and for that i'm sorry."

"oh, no, dove," he says with a little laugh, setting the crystal decanter on the countertop, using that hand to hold his weight as he reached deep into the cluttered cabinet. "you did not upset me. well," another tip of his lips into that unreadable expression, "i was, but not genuinely."

you blink at him, confusion melting into the hurt look on your face. "that does not make any sense."

"you see everything in black and white, dove," he says, a bottle of deep caramel liquid in his grip. his free hand goes to the crystal tumbler, a frown gracing his pretty expression, "two things can be true at once. i can be upset and not upset at the same time."

your mouth opens to answer him, but closes. his eyebrows flick up in amusement. "you should know that, with how often you give me that look. confused but not confused." he lets out a deep sigh through his nostrils. "christ, this is like, minimum five fingers of whiskey. whole damn hand's worth."

"there are no fingers in that." you watch as he lifts the glass to his mouth, his eyes locked and intense on yours the entire time. he downs half of it at once. "and it is inappropriate to say that."

"oh, piss off," he murmurs into the open mouth of the glass, though his eyes glimmer now, while they stay locked on yours.

your deep frown becomes a hesitant smile. no, maybe he is not-not mad anymore, actually.

he finishes the glass off with a groan that is entirely too sinful to be able to be created by one human man, albeit one that's been to hell and back. "see, this is why m'not pissed at you," dean says, voice thick and raspy as he tips the glass in your direction. "because i've got a helluva tolerance, and that burns. you... you drank that entire decanter like it was fuckin' kool-aid."

a pause and a blink. "juice. like juice. m'not explainin' kool-aid to you today. not in the mood."

his nails tap lightly on the countertop, drawing your attention there. "m'gonna guinea pig the shit outta you real quick."

"guinea pig?" your voice is a soft mutter of confusion. "you cannot—"

the sound of something popping open makes you blink in surprise, caught off guard by the sound of the cork popping free from the bottle on the countertop. "we're gonna play a game, dove. s'all you need to worry that pretty, confused little head about."

"oh."

dean pours a sip's worth into the crystal glass, before he pauses with the bottle in the air, and pours another of the same amount in. then, he passes the glass to you. "bottoms up."

"you are not getting me to show you my bottom, dean," you say sternly, with so much more authority than anyone could expect from an angel with a glass of whiskey in your fingers.

dean actually laughs. it's such a nice sound, hearty and rare these days. you wish you could bottle it up and cork it instead of what's already in there. surely, whatever it was wasn't as good as the sound of cackling. "means drink up, dove."

if only he'd actually just said that. you fluster, but you attempt to hide it behind the glass as you raise it to your mouth and sip it down in one gulp.

he tips his head in a small nod, eyebrows to his hairline, watching you with a look you can't explain in his eyes. impress? shock? affection? they're all things he rarely shows you, especially anymore. "what?"

dean raises his hands in mock surrender. "you just tossed back at least an eight hundred dollar double shot like juice, dove. let a man be impressed."

you choke belatedly. that little amount was eight hundred dollars? no wonder he'd been so angry, when he'd stumbled into you finishing off the bottle in the living space.

"nuh uh, pretty thing," he wags his finger, before the motion becomes a snap until you hand him back the glass, "no gettin' shy now. i wanna see you off your ass."

you bristle at that. "you have an obsession with my... my ass."

dean's grin becomes downright wicked. "yeah, i do."

the words take a second to register, and by the time they do, he's turned back and pouring another two shots worth into the glass. thankfully, too, because the last thing you want is for him to see the flush of pink on your cheeks.

"c'mon. one more." dean turns, holding the glass out for you. his eyes are a little glazed, and he seems lighter on his feet. not so tense around you as he'd been for weeks. you suck your lip between your teeth as you debate it, a little nervous, admittedly, to know what it's like to be off your ass. "nope. none of that."

his free hand cups your cheek suddenly, thumb dragging your bottom lip out of your mouth. "what?" you say, blinking your confusion. "none of what?"

"that," he answers, waving his hand in a broad gesture in front of your face. "m'feelin' too warm and buzzy to watch you bite your lip like a little temptress right now."

temptress. you? just because you'd— "oh." you feel your heart skip in your chest, and the feel of it nearly makes you jump. too close. he's too close. did you always feel like this when he was near, or was this one of those new feelings you stumbled across sometimes, that left you a bit breathless in your confusion?

the glass in his hand presses to your puffed bottom lip, the coolness of it dragging it open further, until it's in a little open o-shape. dean is close enough that you can hear the shudder in his inhale. you wonder, for a second, if it's because his heart, too, is stumbling over itself in his chest.

he begins to tip it back, pouring it in a slow stream between your parted lips. "yeah, that's a good girl," he mumbles, his voice rougher than you've heard it before. the praises always make you feel headier than usual, warm all over like the whiskey felt in your throat. "little more, c'mon. i know you can take it. yeah, just like that."

your eyes are locked on his the entire time, and you watch in real time as his pupils double in size, the green of his irises disappearing into a thin ring. once the glass is empty, he holds it to your lips a blink longer than necessary, his own mouth parted with words he didn't yet say.

another blink, and the glass is away from your mouth, and he's at the sink, back turned to you. "feel it yet?"

your hands do feel warm, like static runs through your veins, like each of your movements is more fluid. "i feel... something."

dean turns on the stream of the faucet, rinsing the glass out in silence. but softer than a breath, you hear him say, "yeah. so am i, dove."

tags,

@figthoughts, @jasvtsc, @titsout4nicholas, @deanswidow, @whyyouegg,

@bombarda-babe, @whisperingwillowxox, @underground-secret,

@bitchykittenconnoisseur, @jensenacklesantidote,

@keira-kaz2y5

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about how despite being Pete's sussy guy friend, he still very much IS his friend. Wade is the type of bro to joke about dicks all the time but when the time comes, he is genuinely one of Peter's friend.

Sure, Wade tells Logan about the sparing, he tells him about patrol, and he tells him about Vinnies pizzaria even where they have their meet ups without the masks.

What Wade doesn't tell him is how tight he holds him when theye both bloody or bruised from their fights, whether against one another or a common enemy.

He doesn't tell him how they've made it a game where they can be talking on a building, and if Wade 'falls off,' Peter webs him back up and scolds him to knock it off.

He doesn't tell him that he can't believe how much Peter genuienly believes in him. He can't understand why someone so good and someone so smart would ever want to be friends with him.

He doesn't tell Logan that being around Peter makes him feel like a way better person, and how being apart from him for long emphasizes their differences, making him feel worse about himself.

He doesn't tell Logan that each time there's a little angel on his shoulder? It's Peter.

Do you know why he doesn't tell Logan? He already knows. It doesn't take telepathy to see this, and with how hyper aware Logan is, he learned all of this within a month- probably less.

Logan just comes back to the apartment to see both Wade and Peter with their suits ripped up and Peter, specifically with a bloody nose and a bruise on his abdomen. They're just.. sitting there. Holding each other so gently yet so tight that Peter is bassically in his lap, dead weighted against him, They're silent.

"Hey.."

"Hey... rough day." Is all Wade mutters, looking like he needs a nap.

"Heh.. what, kid? You fail a math test or something?" Logan tries to joke but Peter just kind of looks at him confused.

".....I'm 28..."

"And a Biochemist." Wade adds in, letting his body rest fully against the couch with a big sigh.

"Oh.." Logan says. "Well... Does the Biochemist want a tissue? He's bleeding all over you.."

Wade's hand just comes up to point at himself. "Red suit.. meant for bleeding..."

"Right.. you guys want a beer?"

"Yeeess... god, see? I told you he was the best." Wade mutters under his breath and Peter just scoffs. "You told me a billion things about him, whats your point?"

"My point- Is....." there's a long pause. "That we got our asses handed to us today...By robots. Still don't know why we couldn't just shoot'em."

Peter then groans as if he's already explained this 60 times, sitting up just long enough to take the beer. "Thanks-"

"No problem, Now scoot over."

"-but anyway, if we shot them, they would explode and put tons of lives in danger because of the automatic protocol system."

"So?"

"Wade-"

"Yeah yeah... save it for my next lecture.." he waves his hand, taking a sip of his and then reached out to clink his bottle with Logans.

"To saving the city... one god damn robot at a time..fuck this would be so much easier if Stark was alive.."

#hero-ingishard

[foone]

honestly it would be funny to make an analog horror and include hints to all the normal tropes but then none of them end up being actually the case.

there's a kid acting weird, they weren't abused, murdered, or possessed. they've got ADHD and having trouble at school, but with some medication they're doing better now.

there's a company making a video game and it doesn't come out, and there's mysterious stories about the developers... the game is found on a CD-R at goodwill, and it's a decent if incomplete platformer-RPG.

the developer disappeared because he got kicked out of the country due to an expired work visa. He's actually just fine off in a different country doing work on other things. (fun fact: this happened to the main programmer of Final Fantasy I-III & Secret of Mana halfway through making II & III: His Japanese work visa expired, and they had to finish programming the game by moving all the other (Japanese) developers to Sacramento)

The company is experimenting with weird physics, and they have tons of security with it. There's no portal, no backrooms... but their new capacitor chemistry is significantly cheaper but with similar longevity. The security was to keep their competitors from stealing their millions of dollars of research.

There's a religious sect which has weird rituals and it turns out... they're a bunch of christians who have minor issues with the similar christians they split off from. They are very passionate about 1 Corinthians 3:16 and they refuse to eat avocados or other large berries, at pain of expulsion. What? No? No one got abused or sacrificed. I mean, Tanya sacrificed her weekends for 5 years to cook for the preschool, but she's still alive and happy.

There's a serial killer stalking the city. He leaves cryptic clues to his next target. The police capture him easily with a illegal DNA test after his daughter got cancer.

There's a spooky entity sometimes seen in analog media, and corrupting digital ones... after additional shielding is added to the main turbine of the Long Shoals Power Plant, the audio/visual disturbances in the area vanish.

That spooky tall person haunting the woods turns out to be a trans woman in a hoodie (it's cold in november!) foraging for mushrooms. She talks your ear off about how to tell the difference between Spring kings (Boletus rex-veris) and the deadly brown roll-rim (Paxillus involutus).

The abandoned house has a dark secret: the floorboards on the second floor are not up to code. why do you think it got condemned in the first place? Don't go up there, you might die! not from a ghost, from falling through the floor and getting super-tetanus.

The toy company closed down, all to hide their dark secret: those toys were made in sweatshop! the paint on the dolls has unsafe amounts of lead! The producer for the cartoon resigned in disgrace... no he just got a DUI and spent 9 months in jail for it. no kids were involved and no one died.

there's an alternate history about the US where it turns out all kinds of secret massacres and evil architecture and deals with pure evil and super weapons... but it's just the same ones we did in this reality. you know, the Black Hawk War, the MOVE bombing, the various mining wars, Robert Moses's racist & classist city planning, Project Paperclip, and ICBMs. No need for magic glass or hidden structures inside monuments: we've got Trinity Glass and the Cheyenne Mountain Complex.

You get strange notes left by your door, and it turns out they were all left by that nice lady who helped you with the groceries the other day. Her english isn't so good, and usually her grandson stops by and helps, but he's been away for school and her broken words didn't get across how she had some spare eggs from her chickens if you'd like some, it instead read more like she was going to "take your eggs"?

You can't believe that urban legend about an evil barren woman preying on pregnant women. that was just some bullshit made up by that christian group who was protesting abortion on your campus. It never happened (insert frakes gif here)

The guy stuck in a submarine at the bottom of the ocean is just there because he's an idiot techbro, not because he's a criminal condemned to one final mission at the bottom of a sea of blood in a universe where the stars are all dead. He just thought he was smarter than the people who actually build submarines, and made his out of expired tin foil.

I'm gonna make a analog horror

hard mode: there will be no "anomalies".

[secriden]

Not to be a Style apologist, but I feel like some viewers haven't quite picked up that Style's brand of wooing Fadel is quite likely intentionally designed (by both the writers and the character) to be as annoying and frustrating as possible.

Lets consider:

Style thinks his bff is in love for the first time in his life. He thinks Kant is genuinely down bad for Bison: let’s not forget his clear surprise when Kant agreed to give up the car. As far as Style is concerned, Kant is acting really out of character and it's because Kant desperately wants to be with Bison.

He also thinks the only thing standing in the way of True Love™ is Fadel, who according to Kant is being unreasonably difficult about Kant and Bison dating. He doesn't know that Kant has a secondary motivation, nor does he know about the mind games that Bison is playing with Kant. Worse, he has no frame of reference or context to make any of Fadel's animosity towards Kant reasonable.

Moreover, while I think we all agree that Style made a terrible first impression on Fadel, the same has to be said of Fadel towards Style. Like, yes, absolutely Style was in the wrong, but Fadel came off as not only condescending and impatient, but unreasonable (and very weirdly cagey) when Style tried to immediately offer a resolution. Again, Style has no frame of reference for why Fadel would first demand that he take responsibility for his actions and then immediately after claim to have no time to entertain Style's attempt to take said responsibility.

Also, it doesn't help Style's wounded pride that Fadel keeps 'besting' him at every turn. So at this point I think a significant portion of that initial attraction (in ep 1) has shifted to annoyance when it comes to Fadel. By the time he gets his hands on Fadel's information, I think he's more than a little invested in some payback. While I think Style very much still wants to help Kant (and Bison) out, at least a part of him figures as long as he keeps Fadel busy, he kind of meets his goal. And if he gets to embarrass, frustrate and otherwise harass Fadel along the way, all the better!

You can see him start to have some fun with it. He ramps it up SO much in ep 2. He gets to lean into that wild, brash, playful personality because he doesn't really care if Fadel likes him. Style gets to be dialled up to extremes, and I love that for him because he's honestly kind of justified because he knows so fucking little about what's really going on. I think it's only fair if the other 3 are playing 4D chess while Style only has the Uno game rules in front of him, he gets to be the most Unhinged about it.

So, yeah, while I absolutely agree with all the posts out there that recognises just how reasonable and polite and tired Fadel is, I do think we need to give Style some credit here. He's absolutely SO extra, but he's also the one, arguably, that has been lied to the most and I feel that he deserves some slack for that.

I'm so glad he figures out some things in the next episode because my darling boy deserves to at least somewhat even the playing field.

[senseandaccountability]

HR department romance plots

I just… beyond the surface level of enjoying a new game with new relationship dynamics to explore, I really can’t feel much about the DAV companions or their romances.

They all just seem so disconnected from the story, from Rook (who in turn is entirely disconnected from all kinds of feelings because Rook is just Employee Of the Year), from the world, from themselves. I feel like Cole here, looking at them and saying in my gentle, fleeting voice: even the dwarves don’t really remember dwarves. It really feels like the interpersonal relationships are written by the HR person who sits with you as union rep to tell you that you should use a positive language, that "we are all simply employees here, it doesn't matter what title you have", give a little pep talk about teamwork and how to get the job done. That's what we're here for. Everyone's equal. We all want the same thing here, your boss is your friend. Have you tried talking to this person, see their side of things, mmmm? It's just... yeah, they're cute, all of them. But why do they like each other? Why do they want to be with Rook? Who are they even in relation to the world of Thedas, what do they believe in, what have they overcome, what do they hate, what sort of prejudices do they carry around? I have no idea.

And since I’m also replaying DAI again, I wanted to compare these romances to my canon romances in DAI.  With Blackwall, you immediately get a sense of attraction and a sort of flirting on his part that suggests this is something he falls into quite easily - “you know a lot about girls” to quote Cole - BUT it’s also something he really, really thinks he shouldn’t be doing now. Why? He is tied to the Warden plot, if you bring him along you get a sense of a man hiding shit but you don’t really understand what, and he still comes to see you (flying/climbing up your balcony wall idk) because he can’t step away. You get to tell him he’s a good man even though you know shit about that at this point, like with Anders in DA2 you can give your PC over to this passion/love despite knowing that there’s something off, something potentially harmful or dangerous. There is conflict, there are things that jar, that can even make you uncomfortable. 

Blackwall as a character is open and compassionate. He approves of mercy, shows mercy, he isn't judgmental of others. In sharp and delicious contrast Blackwall’s crime is vile. He isn’t bound by any sort of oath, he can back down, there is no greater good whatsoever in his actions. It’s inexcusable. And yet. YET. You can CONTINUE THE ROMANCE. He killed a wagon full of kids, THEN RAN AWAY AND LET HIS MEN TAKE THE BLAME and hates himself so much that he tries to become someone else by erasing his previous self from the face of the earth. You can still kiss him and tell him you want him to live and redeem himself. It’s fucking incredible to think about this in the light of Veilguard actually. Your LI, the child murdering coward. 

With Iron Bull you have the doubts all spread out on the table. He’s a spy, how could you ever trust him? He also doesn’t respond to your flirting, why the hell not when you hear through ambient dialogue that he’s fucking half the chantry, isn’t he supposed to be a fuckboy? But he’s fun, he’s a mystery, he’s got fascinating banter with everyone, he’s brought his found family along, he’s a Qunari who at least somewhat believes in the Qun - he’s got AMAZING conversations with Solas that characterizes Bull as deeply intelligent (and Solas as much more caring than he’d let on) and knowledgeable about surprising things like architecture. Cole, as always, gives us more insight into Bull’s mind along the way and even before the offer to ride the Bull, the idea of him has been through some adjustments. You change his idea about a lot of things and in return, Bull challenges your idea of him, your idea of the Qun, your idea of the world and possibly, depending on how you react to his romance, your idea of intimate relationships. The game’s writing allowed me to imagine a rather frumpy circle mage in her mid 30s reluctantly forming a friendship with this strange fellow, only to find herself very much attracted to him, only to find herself being cared for in a way she would never have let anyone do before simply because Bull told her that was the only way he’d be with her. This is how we’ll do it, are you in? Your LI, the service top Qunari spy who is terrified he’ll run mad without his belief system to dictate his actions. 

And Solas. I mean mythical love stories culminating in mythical endings aside, what I really fell for in this relationship was the refreshing dynamic not of enemies to lovers but of two souls just sort of connecting instantly during strange events, taking a few hard looks at each other and going oh shit it’s you, you get me HOW is it possible you get me when nobody else does? There’s so much external drama surrounding them, which is why I personally LOVE and ADORE how calm their internal connection actually is. They know, so early in the game, that this is it. You’re my home, you understand the bones of me, you ask questions no one else thinks of asking, you care about the world in a way I haven’t seen anyone else do. He is LITERALLY the only one who understands your Lavellan when they make her the herald, when she protests and they keep pushing and pulling and sing their song after Haven, and Solas is there to be sarcastic about it. If nothing else, I'd fall in love with that. And there’s this sense of impossibility from the very beginning, a sense of it being almost unreal because the first kiss is in the Fade, the second is in a frenzy where Solas goes from 0 to I LOVE YOU, MY HEART and then leaves and you know, you know how this is coded and YET - he seemed so wise and kind and sad, it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth. And even with this connection of souls, things chafe - he’s an absolute bastard about certain things, he mocks your heritage and you don’t know yet that it’s because a huge guilt blanket rests on top of him since thousands of years back, you can just argue back and receive his disapproval. He says it’s selfish of him to start anything with you yet he does - WHY DO YOU DO THAT, SAD EGG? Your LI, the ancient god of rebellion, treachery and lies, depending on the story. 

Even beyond my favourites, there are conflicts. Sera is A LOT (affectionate) if you're an elf, with Cullen you get a substance abuse story-line tied to his general dismay about his past as a really fucked up templar, Dorian has personal trauma and cultural prejudice he struggles with for the entire game, Vivienne is so complex half the fandom hates her and has very awkward and uncomfortable banters with almost everyone (save for Bull because he treats her like he would a tamassran), Cassandra is constantly challenged in her personal beliefs, very clearly reflected in her conversations with Solas and Cole has a whole personal plotline about deeply existentialist matters. What does it mean to be alive? Who is a person and who gets to decide that? He could have been a person, Varric says. Isn't he already? Does this unit have a soul? Not to mention that Cole functions chiefly as a speaker of truths, bringing a lot of complexity to the others. 

DAI is not perfect by any means but I feel like I know these bastards. I feel like my PC or even I could actively dislike some of them, because they are written to create dynamic conflicts inside and outside of their own arcs. I can write fic about them, I can imagine what they're doing during the events of DAV because I know them.

Because they are written like actual people in a world where some people have power over others and some people have been raised with a certain belief system and some people just have shitty takes on society, may they learn. 

[flightyalrighty]

…I find it lowkey weird when someone says Sonic is bit of bully or mean in your comic.

I know you have him take after Archie and Fleetway, but he feels normal to me?

Or is it because I grew up with Sonic media that had him being abrasive that I got used to it..?

This image of being this -perfectly nice- hedgehog that people get from him kinda makes me wonder constantly, do you know how he was back then?

Would you perceive him the same way if you gotten to known him a bit later excluding the older comics?

SEGA has kept a few things consistent with Sonic and one of them being he was always this dude with an attitude. for better or for worse. That didn't mean he didn't care for anyone, it's just part of who he is. Once you can see past that, you know that despite his meanness, he's a solid guy that means well.

(I got a few asks in a short span of time so I hope I'm lining up the correct follow-up with the original here)

So! Okay. So, here's the thing about Sonic and his whole "attitude" thing. These days, canonically, it's kinda non-existent? Sonic's personality got sandpapered (in the games) until it was nice and smooth for the past, uhhh, like deca -- No, not even. I think he's actually been like this since 2005.

Like sure, he'll make a few lame jokes at Eggman's expense in the Meta Era but like. He's a ray of sunshine to everyone else (besides that one thing they got rid of in the Sonic Gens "remaster" with Amy). He's not even GENUINELY mean to Knuckles the way he used to be. There is no actual beef there, it's really just friendly banter he's having with his friends.

Even more about this below cut vvv

The main sources of Sonic Attitude™ I ever experienced growing up was that little itty bit left within Sonic Heroes and MOSTLY just Archie Sonic (and some STC Online reading I did as a kid) and Sonic X. Make no mistake, Sonic definitely had a range of "Attitude" to "Asshole" in those works. It just wasn't present in the games. So if you were a kid growing up and only knew Sonic FROM the games, that so-called attitude was gonna be minimal if you're age 30 or under.

And any attitude he gave would be only to people he perceived to be enemies (or Jet the Hawk).

Jump forward in time to the end of the Meta era, and we've come to a point in which Sonic is very nice. He's everyone's cool big brother. He's a "friend to all children." The perfect role model. He's very nice in Sonic Prime. In IDW, some fans would even argue he's TOO nice. TOO forgiving. To this I say, it is what it is. I just don't believe Sonic's mean-ness level is all that consistent. Perhaps someday we'll see that attitude again. Perhaps.

Now, to finally address your initial comment: I am the one who says this. I am the one who says he is mean in Infested. And! That's because he's written that way.

This isn't modern nice Sonic, but this also isn't Attitude Guy from the 90s/early 2000s. This is a secret third thing. And by that I mean he's an amalgamation of STC Sonic and Archie Sonic. He's done a lot of learning and growing and he doesn't want to hurt his friends, but his first instinct is harsh, snippy commentary or outright lashing out. He has learned and has to bury that horrible little monster inside him. For Tails's sake.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hello hope you are doing well! I had a scenario question but would love any information ❤️❤️

If you suddenly woke up in Twisted Wonderland and had to face Azul, what strategies would you use to win against him? How do you think someone can manipulate or defeat him? I’m curious about how we saw it happen in Chapter 3, but I’m wondering what other weaknesses he might have.

Realistically, I feel like there's only 3 ways the average person ("average" meaning assuming average skills/talents and intelligence; no magic) could "beat" Azul at his own game:

Know smart or powerful people who can help you find loopholes and/or to lend you a hand in executing a plan. This is essentially what happened in book 3; Yuu gets advice from Malleus that helps them realize the true nature of the contracts, then recruits Savanaclaw to help them pull off their heist. Without the support of Malleus and Leona, it's highly unlikely Yuu and co. could have come out victorious or successfully manipulated Azul's actions as they did.

Don't entertain Azul or make a deal with him in the first place. This is what Leona recommends doing in book 3. It follows very simple but effective logic. If you never get involved with Azul, then he can't exactly take advantage of you, now can he?

Weaponize information against him. I don't think this would be feasible for someone who just got isekai'd to another world and is still trying to get their bearings on it. However, I do feel like Azul isn't the type of obstacle you can brute force; you'd have to take your time and gather data on what his weak points are in order to gain leverage over him. We sort of see Yuu and Jack attempt this in book 3; they follow Azul around to try and see where he struggles but he appears to be perfect in all of his classes. You'd probably have to dig even deeper than his high school career. For example, if you were somehow able to dig up dirt on Azul that he doesn't want to let out (such as his experience of being bullied as a child), you could open up the route of negotiations. As it currently stands, you don't have anything to bargain with besides Ramshackle Dorm.

If it were me in Yuu's shoes, I'd probably avoid making a deal to begin with (I'm very risk-averse www). If I do have to make the deal, I'll prioritize information warfare (blackmail is okay sometimes/j). My absolutely last resort would be to such up my pride and phone a friend for help. That's... kind of the same order Yuu goes in canon anyway, no?

[noxiatoxia]

I don't know if this is common knowledge, but Komaeda's talent in Japanese is not "Ultimate Lucky Student". It is "Ultimate Good Fortune" (or good luck).

I know the word "lucky" has connotations with being good luck, but "luck" itself seems neutral to me at least.

I think the fact Komaeda is praised for, and has his talent be centered on, his good fortune is a very important nuance. People only see the good that happens to him. People keep telling him what happens to him is "good luck". His parents dying and getting kidnapped end up being called "good luck" in the end. I think this reinforces his pattern of thought more than people just saying he has extraordinary luck (good and bad). It's a minor difference, but it adds a lot. I have been thinking about this for a little bit now.

Because of the fact it is good luck specifically, I wanted to find parts where Komaeda specifically talks about bad luck. Lines such as "my awful luck/dreadful luck..." doesn't make much sense in the context of his Japanese talent. It made me wonder if those English lines even existed or if it was a "Luke, I am your father" situation. I don't have either the English or Japanese script memorized.

I checked the Freetime Events because of this, and found an interesting thing. There's a number of mistranslations, or simply translation choices I don't really agree with.

The freetime events heavily misrepresent how often Komaeda uses the word "luck". He uses both 不幸 and 不運 an equal amount I'd say. Maybe the former more. The former means "misery" "sorrow" or "misfortune". The latter means "bad luck" or "ill-fortune".

Likewise, 幸運 means good luck, but it also means good fortune. It's the word used in his talent as I described above.

Now, that's not to say I think Komaeda's "talent" should not be referred to as luck, nor am I saying he should never use the word luck. I think good and bad luck is a perfectly apt English word to describe his experiences. I just think the English translation overuses it. It wouldn't have killed them to make him say "isn't that just awful" or "what a tragedy, right?" instead of "isn't that such bad luck?" every conceivable moment. Maybe I'm just nit picky.

Now, onto the free time events. I want to talk about them.

I'll be talking about them in order as they appear. Also, I am only going to talk about the 3rd event onward, after Komaeda's chapter 1 reveal.

Freetime event 3

A minor nitpick, but "friends" is not the word I'd use here. It's true you can translate it that way, but considering everything else about Komaeda, at this point in the game, he wouldn't readily call Hinata his friend. Especially considering the connotations that holds for him.

That's precisely likely why he, in fact, doesn't say "friend" in the Japanese text. He uses 仲間 which like I said, while can and does translate as friend when used in that way, it just means people of a common thread. Like, a group, I guess.

My TL:

Because we both share the common goal of seeking out hope!

Freetime event 4

This is a really bad translation IMO. Hope is never said once in the original dialogue. I don't know why they put it there.

My TL:

Hinata: It's pretty ironic that you got wrapped up in this shitshow considering your "Ultimate Good Luck". Komaeda: It's not ironic at all! This is no doubt just the beginning of the good things to come my way! Komaeda: Um, let's just say the "good luck" I was born with is a little less straightforward [than the name would suggest]... Komaeda: once this is all over, I'll be rewarded with good fortune of the highest caliber.

And though this next one isn't much of a "mistranslation", I want to offer an alternative translation that highlights my criticism of "overusing the words good/bad luck".

My TL:

Komaeda: The greater the misfortune I experience before hand...the greater the good that comes my way afterwards! It completely cancels out everything before it!

Freetime event 5

I sadly cannot find in-game pictures of this since it's one of the wrong dialogue choices, so here's the script file text for it instead (sorry)

I remembered this line in English specifically because I always thought it sounded weird for Komaeda to say - "It's rare to hear you give such a half-assed answer".

While not a mistranslation totally, I think the tone is a bit off.

I would write it more as, "Ah ha ha! That's quite the answer, Hinata-kun!"

It literally translates as "for Hinata-kun, that is a very suitable answer!" but it's clearly supposed to be teasing/sarcastic. So he means to say "oh, wow, Hinata-kun, you're answering with that?" but in a lighthearted tone.

Freetime event 6

Almost didn't include this because it's the mistranslation we all know and hate, but it's worth mentioning in case people don't know.

My TL:

Please, just one last thing...don't ever forget...that from the bottom of my heart, I love y...I love your hope that sleep dormant inside you.

Though he does just say "please, don't forget", he uses どうか which is a pretty polite turn of phrase for Komaeda. It also is a way to emphasize a request, as in please do this to the benefit of me.

He backtracks pretty heavily. The verb comes at the end in Japanese sentences, so giving an exact one-to-one would be hard, but I'll try to explain it.

ボクはキミを... キミの中に眠る希望を心から愛していると。

Boku wa Kimi wo... Kimi no naka ni nemuru kibou wo koko kara aishiteiru to.

の/no = possessive. Such as, "Lucy's cat" "David's car".

を/wo = verb particle. There's no real English equivalent but you use it to signify some verb is being done onto something. Such as, "I kicked the ball" ("ball wo kick") or "I pet the cat" ("cat wo pet").

は/wa = topic particle. Commonly translates as "is/am" but that is NOT what it means. It just signifies everything that comes after it relates back to what comes before it. It's most accurate to think it as "as for the topic of..." Such as, "my damaged car wa had to go into the repair shop." After wa, "had to go into the repair shop", you ask, "what had to go into the repair shop?" you can find the answer in the topic, which is before wa: my damaged car. (or... me no damaged car.)

So, with this knowledge, let's break down the sentence.

Boku = I/me.

Kimi = you.

So this would make Boku wa Kimi wo in it's most literal form: as for the topic of me (aka, speaking for me), I, onto you...

Then he trails off. wo becomes no.

I, onto your hope sleeping inside of you...

and then we return to wo:

from the bottom of (one's) heart, love [the hope sleeping inside of you].

One could easily see it as Komaeda quickly changing the wo to no to add extra steps to not make the confession so head-on. Because if we remove everything after no and just continue where the wo leaves off, we get:

Boku wa Kimi wo koko kara aishiteiru to.

As for me, I, from the bottom of my heart, love you.

Now...one could also read it as him not backtracking, but adding. Saying I love you and the hope that lies dormant within you. Both are equally plausible. Listening to the audio it can go either way, but the way he quickly and softly drops off when he gets to the first wo makes me feel like it's a backtrack. Or maybe the background music is just too loud haha.

Well, that's all I got for now.

[strwbwrrybunny]

all mine. ellie w.

nsfw. your cute girlfriend doesn’t cut it, but your ex does. drabble!

regret courses through you like a raging river, each pulse in your sweaty palm amplifying the weight of the phone. the ring pierces through the silence, a relentless reminder of your impending doom. anxiously, you gnaw at your lip, the taste of iron mingling with your mounting fear. "i'm being ridiculous," you mutter, your thumb hovering over the end call button. but then, the line clicks open, and her voice, sharp and slightly irritated, cuts through the tension.

"hello?"

her tone is justified; after months of silence and the last encounter being a screaming match, she has every right to be annoyed. your mouth goes dry, and you scramble for words, your mind a chaotic mess. "you fuckin' prank calling me?" ellie snaps, her voice heavy with exhaustion. it's three in the morning, and she doesn't have time for games.

"no, no," you stammer, "i just wanted to talk to you." you facepalm, feeling utterly pathetic. you can hear her shifting in bed, her irritation palpable. "right, and you decided to do that on a random tuesday at three in the morning? bye, y/n." her voice is cold, dismissive.

"wait, no! el, please," you beg, your voice cracking. you don’t care how pathetic you sound. "you have two minutes," she sighs, the sound of rustling sheets indicating she’s sitting up. "i-uh, fuck. can you come over?" the words spill out, faster than you intend, a jumbled mess of desperation.

ellie’s not dumb. she knows exactly why you’re calling her. the unspoken truth hangs heavy in the air, thick with tension and unfulfilled desires. you want her, need her in a way that no one else can satisfy.

she always promised that no one could fuck you like she did, and she was right. latest example: the girl you’d been dating for a month, the shy girl from the bookstore where you worked. you felt dirty inviting ellie over right after you’d been with someone else. the girl was always awkward with the sex toys you’d provided, fumbling and unsure, her nervous laughter only adding to the discomfort. she tried her best, but it was clear she was out of her depth.

eventually, you had to fake an orgasm just to get it over with, feeling a pang of emptiness as you did. ellie was right once again, and you hated it. the regret and desire intertwine inside you, creating a potent mix that leaves you breathless, waiting for her response. the memory of ellie’s touch, her confidence, and the way she knew exactly what you needed floods back, making the wait even more unbearable.

the silence on the other end is deafening, each second stretching into an eternity. you can almost hear her thinking, weighing her options. finally, she exhales, a soft sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "you know this is a bad idea, right?" she says, her voice softer now, almost resigned.

"i know," you admit, your voice barely a whisper. "but i need to see you. please, ellie."

there's a long pause, and you can imagine her sitting there, running a hand through her hair, contemplating whether to give in to the pull that always seemed to draw you two back together. "fine," she finally says, her voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and something else—something that gives you a glimmer of hope. "i'll be there in twenty."

the call ends, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. the anticipation gnaws at you, a mix of dread and excitement bubbling in your chest. you glance around your apartment, suddenly acutely aware of the mess. you start tidying up, trying to make the place look somewhat presentable, but your mind keeps drifting to ellie.

you remember the first time you met her, how she walked into the room with that confident stride, her presence commanding attention. and then there was her bike—sleek, powerful, a perfect extension of her personality. you were drawn to her like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the allure of her confidence and the way she seemed to see right through you.

as you wait, the memories flood back—late-night rides, whispered confessions, the way her lips felt against yours. the good times, the bad times, and everything in between. you wonder if this time will be any different, if the cycle of attraction and regret will finally break, or if you're doomed to repeat the same mistakes.

“can’t believe i’m doing this,” you mutter, sinking into the plush sofa and tossing your phone aside absentmindedly. the cushions envelop you, offering a fleeting comfort that contrasts with the turmoil inside. “fuck.” you pull at the frayed strings of your old pajama pants, the fabric worn thin and soft from countless washes, and glance down at the t-shirt that’s been begging to see the trash for months. it’s a relic of better times, now faded and stretched, much like your patience.

pushing yourself off the couch, you make your way to your cozy bedroom, the familiar creak of the floorboards underfoot. the soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm, inviting light, creating a stark contrast to the chaos in your mind. sliding open the closet door, you sift through the hangers, fingers brushing against various fabrics. you’re looking for something to wear, something sexy but not too sexy. you didn’t want to seem like a try-hard.

after a moment, you pull out a sleek black nightgown, simple yet seductive, and hold it up to the light, wondering if it will strike the right balance. the soft, silky fabric feels cool against your skin. you run your fingers over the delicate lace trim, appreciating the craftsmanship and the way it catches the light. the nightgown drapes elegantly, and you know this is the one.

it was almost comical how fast ellie had your face squished into the headboard as she fucked you with the pink strap, her soft moans droned out by your fucked out babbling.

“new girl don’t make you nut? that’s a damn shame.”

you could barely understand the words through her panting and the sound of her hips slapping into yours, but you caught the message.

you couldn't get it out of your mind, though. how did she know you had a new girlfriend? and more importantly, how did she know she was shit in bed? you weren’t exactly sure, and you knew if you asked you would probably receive an answer you weren’t fond of. you tried to push the thoughts from your head, but it wasn’t easy to focus with her thrusts becoming even more erratic, her fingers digging deeper into your hips.

but she did have a point, didn't she? you'd never come that hard from any other partner.

you could feel yourself nearing your second climax as she relentlessly pounded your sweet spot. you were almost embarrassed with how much your body was shaking and spasming, but with ellie it was nothing to be ashamed of. she loved seeing you completely vulnerable for her. spread out, taking each deep thrust like the good girl you were.

"you like that baby? huh? tell me you love it," her words were more demanding than they were questioning, your eyes crossed in bliss.

"i-i lov-e it! oh god!" you choke out, she smiled at your reaction, her chest pressed against your back as she moved you down to lay flat, the new angle making her thrusts even more unforgiving as your knees shook in pleasure. you let out a pathetic squeal, a mixture of spit and tears on the hardwood.

"yeah you do baby, takin’ it like a good girl," she pulled you up so your back was against her chest, the hand that was on your hip was now rubbing fast circles around your clit. your body twitched as you moaned loudly, a familiar feeling burning in your stomach.

“tell me you’ve missed me.”

you have. fuck, you’ve missed her a lot.

"missed yo-y-mm-m g-gonna c-cum ellie-ellie!" you moaned, the feeling becoming too much for you.

"it's okay, cum for me," your hips jolted and your body went rigid, the knot inside you snapping as your vision went white, the only thing keeping you grounded was ellie's arms holding you steady. you gasped as the feeling overtook your body, ellie slowing her movements to help you ride it out.

you came for a second time that night, your eyes rolling back and tears of ecstasy staining your face. she slowed down as your body calmed down, her hand leaving your hip to gently stroke the back of your thigh. you couldn't believe this girl.

she had you crying for her.

she slowly pulled out, watching in amusement as your legs still twitched. you felt the weight shift on the bed as she got up, the pink strap hitting the floor with a thud. you stayed in the position she left you, unable to move after being so thoroughly fucked.

she returned moments later, wiping the mess from your thighs and between your legs. she helped you turn over and lie down, and you finally saw the look of complete and utter adoration on her face.

fuck. you’re in so deep.

im cummin, love my gf. as always, likes, comments and reposts are appreciated! bunny out ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

[ganglygamer]

I'M HERE I'M A PODCAST ENJOYER!!!

(tldr at the end because this is kinda long)

I should mention that there are also unused versions of the TSON cover made by the same artist (hauntedfaun) that show Noone having long black hair and a white gown. Though I think most people in the fandom (myself included) don't really like that look as it feels a bit too similar to what we've seen in previous LN designs (Six and RK for example). It's obvious though that they made her hair way shorter in the final design.

So basically, don't feel bad if your version of Noone isn't accurate to what's shown on the cover, since most of the other fanmade Noone designs that I've seen don't really follow it anyway. My version (seen below and here) is actually similar to yours in a lot of ways, except I envision her having reddish hair and freckles - but there are other interpretations, like her having brown hair or blonde hair and different styles of clothing.

As for when TSON could take place, we can only kind of guess using context clues seen in the rest of the series. In the preview for the new comic we do get a glimpse of the counties having some blend of modern skyscrapers and gothic architecture, but nothing that really pins down a time period.

That being said, a lot of the technology in the LN games does seem to come from the mid-late 20th century, specifically things like heart monitors, subway systems, electric fences, big blocky CCTV monitors, etc. And in TSON it's implied that Otto records everything on a modern tape recorder, while with his dream machine the noises it makes always made me think it was hooked up to some larger old-fashioned computer cabinet (think of an old NASA supercomputer).

Taking all that into account, I imagine what we see in the Counties likely takes place between the mid-1960's and early 1970's, since that would be modern enough for the buildings and tech mentioned above, but also vintage enough for the stuff we see in LN2 like black-and-white TV or the style of hair and clothing on the Viewers to still be common. Although, this is all assuming the Counties is supposed to be OUR world and not just the fictional LN equivalent of the real world.

tldr: You can pretty much draw Noone however you like since there doesn't really seem to be an "official" design for her between the official artist or the fanartists. Also TSON likely takes place in the mid-60s/early-70s based on the buildings and technology seen in the wider LN series.

Noone!

So, recently, I listened to the Sounds of Nightmares podcast (a little late, I know, but still better than never) and I have become obsessed.

(P.s. If you're wondering what the scrawls read, I was just speculating what hair-do Noone carries. In the end, I do think they're pigtails but I drew her with short hair because it's recognisable.)

Also side note, when do you guys think the podcast is set?

-The modern-day or perhaps sometime during the 1900s...

[what-have-i-unleashed]

chasing infinity

@howlsofbloodhounds for you my most enabling moot. i think this is way harder to write than anything i've written before so...

shamelessly ripping off arrival (2016) and story of your life. go watch/read it!!

(cw: suicidal ideation, abuse)

chara is about to turn their back on me as they excitedly go on and on about another game that they've thought of. i want to imprint every detail of this moment in my mind. the cadence of their cheerful speech, the unsuspecting smile on their face, the weight of my knife hidden in the sleeves of my jacket.

this is it. this is when it will all change. an end of a story, and a beginning of another one.

years from now, you'll have heard of this moment recounted by me. we will be sitting in a cafe at the corner of a small street as i finish my story. i will laugh at the gobsmacked expression on your face, and you'll splutter, your rainbow-colored flames sparkling like fireworks.

"what type of story is that?" you'll ask me.

"a tragedy," i'll say, sipping on my piping hot milk coffee. "as life is wont to be."

you'll argue that reality is not a story with a definitive end, and i'll humor you. i can't help but wonder though, what the genre of our story is. i've been wondering for a while. i know how the story will end - i've known for a while. in thousands of you's and me's out there, our story repeats itself over and over again, but i don't think i was, am, and will be tired of it. i wish i could tell you about our story some day, but we'll never have the chance.

i haven't understood how to feel about it, and i doubt i will ever do either.

i guess it is cliche to start the story at the very beginning, but maybe it is warranted. it was disorienting - the moment of birth. the softness of the golden flowers enveloped me, but it was small comfort in the face of the pain shooting across my body. everything about it felt wrong - the broken joints, the hollow face, the nakedness. and yet, it was right.

people say babies are born with limited eyesight that develop slowly after time. but i am doomed to forever be cocooned in infancy - a broken prototype of a being, just good enough to be allowed to exist with the rest of the world.

chara didn't mind me. "hello, partner," they said to me, minutes after i started to exist. i couldn't see them, only able to hear to voice so close to my head. "are you ready for the rest of your life?"

the secret is, i'm always ready. like that one time your friend delta will begrudgingly invite both of us to a hangout, i'll grab an umbrella on my way out. delta will look at me strangely.

"it's scorching today. what are you taking an umbrella for?" he'll ask.

"killer often has a sixth sense when it comes to unexpected things," you'll chime in for me. "and it doesn't hurt being prepared."

delta will squint his eyes at me, who will sport a not-so-innocent smile. "really?"

"really," you'll say before i can say anything, knowing that i'd cause a scene just outside the door just to rile the hotheaded skeleton monster up. "let's just go now, shall we?"

we'll leave our house that we'll have chosen together just three months before. the food at the bar that delta will bring us to will be just average, but you'll enjoy the atmosphere too much for me to say any disparaging comments. we'll sit together in a secluded booth - just the two of us - listening to terrible music and watching as the first snow rain fall down on the street. your hand will hold mine as i'll put my head on your shoulders, finally still.

waterfall is chara's favorite place to visit after new home. there is that one statue in the rainy corridor that they like to visit from time to time, most of the times without me. it is easy to tell that is a weakness to look into, but for some reasons i always refrained myself from doing so. too late now anyway.

like usual, chara took two umbrellas in the bin but neither of them was for me. i was ordered to leave them for an indefinite amount of time, and of course i had to be productive during that free time: finding flowey, finding the remaining survivors, finding new ways to entertain chara.

i went to the echo flower field this time. the usual scripted dialogue lines repeated themselves over and over across the field. i was trying to find anything new, anything that would indicate another change in this game, in this script, that would intrigue chara. this time, i found one.

"hey, do you think we're stuck here forever?"

"why would you think so?"

"... i don't know. it's just a feeling i have lately. everything's been too much."

"... yeah, i understand what you mean. but hey! maybe this won't be the end! maybe we'll get through this." a strained laughter followed. "come on, you're such a pessimist. it's good to practice some radical optimism once in a while, you know?"

"maybe. it's just difficult to have hope when everything is so, well, hopeless." silence. and then, "if you knew this would happen, what would you have done differently?"

"hmm i don't know-"

"-maybe i'd have tried to visit people i love more. tell them what i feel before, well, this happened."

"that's all you'd do?"

"like i said! i don't know what i'd have done. you're the one randomly asking me this!"

"mmmm sorry..."

"hey, no need to apologize. i know you're just as anxious about this as i am."

"don't want to make you feel sad, habibi."

"i'm not. being with you, it's the best thing to happen to me. i wouldn't have done anything differently."

it will be a full four years after we start to live together that you say the word. and i'll freeze. the world will stop as if waiting for what i'll say back to you.

"i love you too," i'll say, and you'll beam, arms carefully hugging my smaller body. i don't know what emotions i'll be feeling at that moment. logically, happiness. most likely, guilt.

i'll be thinking about what i think right now, and i'll laugh at it.

the medics will tell me that it is an inevitable conclusion of your condition, that they are extremely sorry for me to hear this. i'll tell them it's all fine, that i've expected this. and i'll know they won't believe me.

i know illnesses like i know my own body and soul - there's no difference between them. i remember the way the insides of my body burned for the first time, the agony, the delirium. it felt wrong, but it was so right at the same time. this was how i was supposed to be - this is how i will always be. and i've accepted that a long time ago.

chara once used my body as a flower bed. strangely, it was one of the most peaceful game they played with me. just lie there in the dirt and play dead - easy enough. the way the dirt was deposited into my skeleton frame was uncomfortable, but thankfully not painful. chara has always been interested in gardening, but they lack the patience for it. but this time, as they said, this time they would get it right.

"what do you want to grow?" i'd asked them before all of this, as i prepared to lie down in the pit i'd dug for myself with my bare fingers. it'd taken a long while, and my fingers were all sore and dirty by the time i was done.

"buttercups," chara hummed. "i miss them around here. asgore never has them anymore."

i didn't question how chara knew. i didn't question why they cared. i just accepted the answer as it was and plopped my body beneath the dirt. chara had taken care to put my soul somewhere else. somewhere safe. it was nice of them to do so, i thought.

my body, with all its needs, was nothing but a burden anyway.

i don't know if being with you will fix me. i don't know if you care about it. i don't understand you, truly. i wonder if i will.

but i don't have infinite time to think. the world doesn't stop when i languish in thoughts. i'll have infinite time later, but never now.

so i'll remember this moment - this last moment between me and a dead child who has been here for too long. i knew this would happen, that everything would come to this point. and then after this, there will be more to come. there will always be more to come. so i hold my knife above chara's head as their back is fully turned. after them, there will be another, then another, then another, then one day it will be you.

i can't wait to see you.

[naamahdarling]

Silly Game Time: The Skeleton King has asked for my hand in marriage ... Again (sigh).

How can I let him down gently enough to not make him an enemy, but firmly enough that he'll stop asking?

Listen. I know the Werewolf King is a total chad or whatever they're calling them now, and he has that pineapple farm and everything, and he has a really wonderful, supportive family who are actually very gentle.

I know he doesn't live in the "frozen wastes" which are just moors in winter, come on. I know the Werewolf King doesn't have like fifteen ex-situationships wandering around as banshees and wraiths and what-have-you, which can be a little teensy bit awkward when all you want to do is pace the castle walls, and all they want to do is scream and rend at their spectral hair.

But I need you to know the whole story.

They were friends before, I'm sure people have told you that. But no, yeah, back when the Skeleton King was just this prissy, gay little lich clattering around the dating scene, they were dating. Did you know that?They were really close. I don't know if the Werewolf King told you that. They were like boyfriend close.

They would have gotten married but the Skeleton King's dad finally disarticulated (at like the worst possible time) and he had to ascend and take the crown and that required sacrifices. It was so stupid.

Rather than claim the lives of fourteen of the Werewolf King's family and his husband the Werewolf King in order to ascend to the throne, he married that Viktor von Vampire or whatever his name was. I think we're all still forbidden from saying it even though he's dead. More dead. Whatever.

I know you heard there was backstabbing, and maybe that's why you're hesitating, but it was totally misrepresented. He married the vampire and then all of the vampire's petty, gross little ghouls got what they'd been deserving for four bratty, bratty centuries, and were discorporated.

I know it was like 60 years while the Skeleton King tried to kill that vampire douchebag, and it all looked really bad! It did! He killed his husband! But you know that fully half of the supernatural marriages that don't end in divorce and in some kind of permanent death or discorporation or what-have-you. It's not like nobody saw it coming, they're just being judgy.

And if he'd explained to the Werewolf King what was going on, about getting married just for the sacrifices and all, and told him that they could still totally be together afterwards, well. The werewolf King is a really great guy and would totally have committed his entire pack to the eradication of all those disgusting little vampire lackeys and their cults.

I don't need to tell you how that would have ended. I really don't. I mean, they're really just a bunch of puppies. They're just silly little puppies tumbling around that giant manor, playing all the time and hunting all the game and having music nights and dancing and barbecues, and it's all really fun. I mean, you've been immersed in it for the last 5 years. You know exactly what I'm talking about.

They're great, they're really great, they're very strong and brave and all of that, and the Werewolf King absolutely would have been up for a fight like that, that's why he's like king of all the werewolves ever, but oh my God his auntie? His cousins? Absolutely not the kind of people who could tear cultists apart. And I'm sure you know by now they wouldn't have listened if they were told to stay away. They can't keep their noses out of anything.

So it kind of had to be the way it was to prevent an absolute puppy slaughter. You don't want that, I don't want that, it's all just too awful to think about.

With all that in mind, I know there's some awkwardness about the time he made off with you in the night. The abduction. Okay! Okay, sorry. The kidnapping.

But you also know about the old curse on your family now, and why he really felt like he had to do it. I mean, your family was living on his land, and there were all these exes of his wandering around just waiting to suck your life force away if you had even one toe outside after the sun went down, or if your mirrors weren't perfectly aligned or your salt wasn't the right kind, god, who knew the really tasty flaky stuff was actually worse for that sort of thing? He kind of felt like he owed it to you. Hence the abd-- the kidnapping, sorry. And the gross blood ritual to make you immune to their bullshit. I mean, he's the one who created them, and you can't deny the fact that he absolutely stepped up to deal with the consequences.

I know it was awkward and all, but the two of you really had something together. Like, right away. Do you remember that entire summer where nobody could stop singing because some farmer broke some stone in his field and there was an ancient spirit trapped inside of it and it was just, well it was just a whole thing?

Everybody was just singing their real feelings, right out loud. It was so embarrassing. It was like the musical episode of every TV show ever, so unoriginal. But all of us saw your musical number together and it was really obvious that there is something incredible there.

I'm sorry, I don't mean to defend him, it's just been really hard for him to watch you going around with his ex, and both of you are so happy, cares about you both so much.

Okay, I can see you're not convinced. I'm not supposed to tell you this. I'm not even supposed to be able to? But I'm some kind of quasi feline creature on my dad's side and I can only be loosely bound by curses or geasa or whatnot. Everything just sort of falls off if I lose one of my lives. And don't tell anyone, but that time I saw a bird and ran full tilt into the glass window at your boyfriend's manor? I know you think I knocked myself out, but I didn't.

No, no, that's not what killed me, no, sweetie, you did fine. I actually died of embarrassment three hours later. When you heard me stop sobbing? Yeah. That was when. It was only for like 6 or 7 minutes though so, not a big deal.

Anyway, what I'm saying is that all of that crap I was supposed to swear and all of those spells that were on me, ugh disgusting, they don't apply anymore. So now I can tell you the real reason he asked again? Is that he has to ask three times before he can like, legally let you go. Skeleton rules, whatever. It's all really stupid.

So it's perfectly fine for you to refuse. Would he be sad, would his feelings be hurt? I mean, yeah, but not really any worse than they already have been with you turning him down twice already. At least then he could let it go. And then you can be with the Werewolf King.

No! I'm not being passive aggressive, I really do want to see you happy! We all want to see you happy. We all want to see the Werewolf King happy! I just feel really bad for my boss, because I love him, he's been kind of like a dad to me.

So I think that you should actually invite him down to the manor, and you can formally decline there. And at least that way he'll have some good emotional support from all of those nice puppy cousins, and he'll have a lot of food to drain of its flavor and a lot of flowers he can go wither to make himself feel better and maybe he can be just a little gay and prissy again.

And maybe you and him and the Werewolf King can sit down and talk all of this out like grown adults who love each other.

You are the protagonist in the middle of a love triangle situation, and it's going to get more and more insufferable the longer it goes on.

What I'm saying is you should all consider a throuple situation. The only way to defeat this stupid narrative that is trying to doom us all.

[seltzer-tastes-pretty-good]

So, you wanna fight a god in a grove - GGG headcanons (will include some spoilers)

Because Great God Grove is my new fixation at the moment

Some headcanons on if you approached any of the gods in Great God Grove, and also how they'd respond to you actually trying it

Gonna be spoilers below the cut, just a heads up

Mitternacht:

If you say you're gonna do it: Might laugh you off, but also reprimand you on the subject. It's already poor form to pick on your elders, after all. You will also almost definitely get that "two of every animal on a boat" line from the main game as well

If you try it: First of all, shame on you. Second off, you're gonna be lifted up by the back of your shirt collar and gently placed down somewhere where you can sit in time out and think about what you tried to do. A dedicated god fighter might as well see results...and if they try it, they better like boats

Cobigail:

If you say you're gonna do it: Definitely gonna be the most enthusiastic about your efforts. You wanna try it, better give it all you got. She outnumbers you in arms and triples you in height. She's about to find out what a blood sacrifice is like, but she's gonna get it on her own...KIDDING! Well, she assumes you were just talking tough too

If you try it: Oh? You weren't kidding? Oh well. Gonna likely try to intimidate you away, still. That's more for your state than hers, though. As mentioned, she's huge and I'm pretty sure even a light bunch from any of those arms could prove fatal. Would likely humor you until she tires of it, then would casually toss you back into the schoolhouse from where you came from. Also prepare for mean/confused looks from onlookers thinking you were trying to threaten the harvest and several large roots popping up out of places to jumpscare you

Thespius

If you say you're gonna do it: Does he look like a guy who's ready to fight anything? He's gonna try and laugh you off at first, maybe question why you wanna do this? It's not like a mortal is getting anything out of this aside...bragging rights? In which case, congrats! You just beat up an all-powerful being that people were trying to look up too. You don't really come out of this, looking good

If you try it: Not even gonna throw a play-punch. All that's gonna happen is you get escorted from his cloud and likely not gonna be welcome back soon. Very common theme among these gods; more keen on just moving you someplace where you're not a danger to yourself

Click Clack

If you say you're gonna do it: then you're gonna get a long laugh out of them, followed by coming up with a humerous narrative on the subject. Will probably be the type to bring up that 'coughing baby vs hydrogen bomb' meme around you

"And spoiler alert" says Click Clack, "You're not the bomb in that scenario"

If you try it: You get hit on the head with that typewriter of theirs. Even then, just because their the smallest of the gods doesn't mean their not gonna be able to throw hands all the same. Hey, now that I think about it, fighting a god is probably a really bad idea

Bauhuazzo:

If you say you're gonna do it:

"No you're not." - Bauhazzo

If you try it: Have you ever tried fighting something made of solid stone? It's not gonna be an easy fight. He's going to wait until you get tired out, then, you guessed it, escort you out of his premises, and leave you to the judging angry looks of those in BuzzHuzz

Huzzlemug:

If you say you're gonna do it: This question honestly large depends on it's mood. It might shadow box with you for a bit to test your 'bravastrengusto', it might find your attempts to threaten someone like it hilarious, it might just up and tell you to "Leave." Bottom line, probably not gonna get serious

If you try it: ...that is, unless you throw the first punch. Like I said, it depends. You might get the 'get off my lawn' treatment (which you should be very used too by now), or you could get knocked out of BuzzHuzz altogether or, if Huzzle is sufficiently either angry or excited enough then, congratulations! This is the first god so far whom I'd think would actually genuinely fight you!

Inspekta

If you say you're gonna do it: Well, first of all, if they hear you say that, get ready to be jumped by any Bizzyboys in the vicinity for saying that. Second off, Inspekta will take it as a silly lil joke. He's not the type to be in-timid-dated by a mortal. Might also be the shadowboxing type, maybe throw a playpunch, but that's it

If you try it: Thankfully, Inspekta's the one god we do see fight. Granted, I doubt he was really out for blood, so we don't know what his full strength is like, but from what I seen, you probably ain't leaving much a scratch on the guy. Remember when I said Cobigail outnumbered you in hands to throw? Inspekta can do that, but literally. You probably ain't winning here

King

If you say you're gonna do it: Then congrats, you got a whole bunch of other gods mad at you, and Razzmatazz to boot. This is the main case where it's not the one you're threatening you need to worry about. King is very unlikely to try and humor the idea of hurting you, especially if you're just a high-strung/overly confident mortal

If you try it: You're gonna stop trying quick. King can settle the differences between gods, she can probably handle whatever's possessing you to challenge gods to fist fights