#i really think we're just scratching the surface

[heinousactszx]

heres a really broad video game ask: whats your approach to assessing the artistic merit of a game? do you have a specific set of aesthetic criteria? is "fun" an important factor for you in artistic merit? sorry if these are sort of academic question but i get the impression you think about this sort of thing

i really look foremost at the gameplay. music, graphics, story, other features can definitely influence a game, but to me a game is primarily something you play, so how you play it has to be most important.

i think some people don't understand that it's the gameplay that drives how you feel about a game. a game like doom 2016 can have all the heavy metal and glory kill animations in the world, but if it wasn't backed up by gameplay that made you powerful and skilled, it wouldn't have the impact it's trying to have.

2 examples from recent games i've played. new super mario bros wii has nothing all that special from a story, music, or visual perspective. it's "just another mario game" in that way. but the gameplay was so tight and the stage design so varied i just couldn't put it down. even when i was dying to a hard stage over and over, i knew it was just a matter of me mastering the movement to break through. meanwhile majora's mask, a game widely renowned for its story and surreal art direction, has been frustrating me with its terrible controls to the point it's absolutely detracting my opinion of the game. i can't really appreciate the boss fight with the freaky fish monster if i keep dying because the game won't let me get out of the water

obviously this is all subjective. gameplay that i love might be gameplay someone else despises, and vice versa. and if the story/music/graphics/other is good enough, i'll put up with lesser gameplay to get through it. but at the end of the day, you play a game to play a game, you know? so that's the primary vector through which i judge it. fun is absolutely an important factor, probably the most important

[kissenturine]

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐀 boothill x m!reader — 3.3k words, not proofread, minors do not interact

TO NOTE: mechanic!reader, sub!reader, reader gives boothill a dick, reader takes away his censorship, mean dom!boothill, maybe ooc!boothill, fingering, heavy heavy dirty talk, boothill calls reader a whore & slut, boothill steps on reader's dick, blowjobs (boothill receiving), degradation. lmk if i missed anything!!

KAI SAYS: boy am i down bad for this little space cowboy

As a hardworking mechanic, you often pride yourself on your accomplishments. You—like any decent one—had many. From what you worked with to what you managed to fix, there were many things that could be considered impressive to a crowd.

None of them, however, were as impressive as the time you managed to remove Boothill’s censorship and give him back what he called: “a missing piece of his heart.”

Your dimly lit mechanic shop is cluttered with tools amongst other sharp things. Scattered about every flat surface usable is a screw, nail, wire, metal board—anything you could make use of. In the centre of the workshop is the only real space you kept clean.

Sitting in the middle of the room is a large, metallic workbench. It’s impressive, to say the least. Hooked up to an uncountable number of wires, switches and knobs decorating the sides, tools hanging from hooks, everything about it is a sight to behold.

What’s more impressive—even more magnificent—is the man sitting on top of it.

With his legs sprawled out and his head idly lolling from side to side, Boothill himself is a man to bless the eyes. The way his body worked, how each wire and sensor inside his cyborg body worked in tandem with each other to create the masterpiece that was him.

Of course, you only think like that because you’re a mechanic. You know how hard it is to put together a synesthetic body part, let alone a whole human being.

To people who don’t know the complexities of machinery, they might just think he’s a handsome cyborg. And really, they weren’t wrong. Whoever created his body, whether it was Boothill himself or another person, was quite the artist with the way they’d managed to create Boothill as a cyborg and still leave in his human charm.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Boothill grumbles, pulling you very quickly out of your thoughts. “Ya gonna continue starin’ or ya gonna actually help a guy out?” He waved at the dent in his hip, a noticeable cave to the metal plate.

“Yes, yes.” You huff. While you did find the cyborg part of Boothill impressive, his personality… not so much. He was endearing at times, but mostly he could be a pain in the ass.

A lot of the time, he’d get himself scratched and broken just to come back to you only when he’s on the brink of shutting down. Or, he’d either only come to you with the smallest, most irrelevant and easy-to-fix problems known to man.

His current state being the latter.

You make your way carefully over to Boothill, dropping to your knees beside the workbench to inspect the minimal damage done to his hip. “It’s… not even that bad.” You murmur, eyes darting up to his. “You could probably play it off as a hip dip or something.”

“Nope!” Boothill grunts, moving his metallic hand to tap against the metal of his hip. “Not happenin’ cutie. Need this body o’ mine to be in tip-top condition for my next bounty.” He grins widely, stretching his legs in front of him as he rests his arms back behind his head.

You only roll your eyes in response, already pulling out your screwdriver to replace Boothill’s so-called “broken” hip. “Whatever you say then…” You grumble, working away at the screws on the plate.

“Thanks, sweet cheeks.” Boothill hums, absentmindedly picking at the metal of his shoulder.

You wince at the nickname, your eyes shifting from where you’re working to Boothill’s face. “What’s with the nicknames…?” You say, voicing your curiosity. “We’ve known each other for what, six months now?” You raise an eyebrow at him before you continue. “Six months, and we're not even dating yet you always seem to use some form of a nickname.”

“Well,” Boothill hums, “the guy that made this good ol’ body of mine decided I would benefit from losing a thing or two. Those bein’ my ability to swear and of course my clock.”

“Your… clock?” You give him a confused look as you screw the metal back into place, finishing off his new hip.

“No, no, cutie, not an actual clock.” Boothill rolls his eyes. “My, uh, manhood, ya know?”

“Your…” You trail off. “Oh.”

He grins at you, opening his legs widely on the table. “Look if ya want, I got nothin’ to hide down there.” He gives you a wink before leaning further into your workbench.

You glance down at his crotch and see that it is, indeed, very flat. I guess what he said is true then…

You’re about to pick up your tools when you hear Boothill call for you, his name dropping from his lips. “Hey, uh, you don’t happen to have any o’ those synesthetic clocks, do ya?”

You give Boothill a blank look. While you did have a few lying around, as per a customer who was willing to pay a hefty price of seven million credits for one, you didn’t think Boothill would want one.

“Yeah…” You eventually respond. “I do.”

Boothill’s eyes widen as if he wasn’t expecting you to actually say yes. “Oh, mother fudgin’!” He says before eagerly jumping off the workbench. “Please,” he begs, “ya gotta hook me up with one! Haven’t felt it in so long, ‘s like a piece of my heart’s been missing!”

You cringe at his choice of terminology before looking up at the pleading man. “Well, they cost a hefty price—”

“I’m willin’ t’pay!” Boothill cries, the same pleading tone still present in his voice. “Please, anythin’ for my clock back!”

“I—y’know what, fine.” You grumble, not having the energy to think up an argument. You wave your hand at your workbench. “Sit on the edge while I grab one. I’m just gonna assume you want the biggest size.”

You hear the faint rumble of Boothills laugh. “Oh, darlin’ you know me so well!”

You roll your eyes, pulling out a key to unlock a drawer where you kept your synesthetic… manhoods. You eye them all, cautiously taking one on the very left end before closing the drawer and going back up to Boothill.

“So.” You say, holding the synesthetic member awkwardly in front of Boothill. “Eight inches, pretty thick, the colour an’ design of the metal goes pretty well with your cyborg parts, I think it matches you.”

“Oh-ho-ho!” Boothill grins, his sharp teeth shining under the light. “Now that's what I’m talking about. Can’t wait to have my fudgin’ shift back.”

You roll your eyes at the censorship before tapping Boothill’s knee. “Spread your legs, gotta get to you if you want me to actually put this on.”

Boothill gives you a teasing look and you already know what he’s about to comment on. “If you wanted to see my new duck in action, ya could’ve jus’ asked.” He grins and you roll your eyes again. Just what you predicted.

“Shut up and spread your legs.” You say, a harsh tone evident in your voice. This time Boothill complies, his knees spreading as you once again take your place, kneeling on the floor—this time between his legs.

Slowly, you unscrew the metal panel on Boohill’s crotch area.

Once it’s fully out, you take a peek into the hole you just opened, trying to grasp what you’re working with. You puff out your cheeks, sighing as you peer into the hole between Boothill’s legs.

There’s an assortment of jumbled wires, a few switches, and—is that a remote control? With two fingers, you manage to pry your way into the cavity in Boothill’s crotch. Lithly and carefully, you pull the remote from the little clasp it was stuck in before sliding it out.

You inspect it cautiosly, taking note of how there’s only one singular switch on the flat of it. You contemplate flipping it, but then it crosses your mind that touching random things that came from inside Boothill’s body wasn’t the best idea.

Setting the remote to the side for later, you continue your work with Boothill’s new member.

Carefully, very, very carefully, you attach each wire to the base of Boothill’s new appendage, making sure everything is kept neat and tidy. With a quick glance up at Boothill, you can instantly tell he’s at least somewhat relaxed.

“Boothill.” You call, tapping the inside of his metal thigh. “I’m gonna connect the synesthesia now, so you might get a bit…” You cough awkwardly. “Aroused… But just ignore it and try not to like—y’know, cum all over my face.”

Boothill grins down at you, once again flashing you his sharp teeth. “Don’t worry, pretty boy, I’ve got some self-control.”

You nod your head, cautiously pushing the two wires together. The instant you twist them into place, you hear Boothill let out a loud groan. “Fudge, I missed this.” He murmurs, his dick twitching to life right in front of your face.

The sight, being able to watch as the new tip of his metal cock twitches and lifts, sends a shiver down your spine—one you chose to ignore as much as possible. Your hands go back to his shaft, gently pressing a screw in and Boothill lets out a loud hiss, his dick twitching in your hand.

“Darlin’ you’re teasin’ me.” He grunts before peering down at you through half-lidded eyes.

You don’t say anything, making sure to work carefully at his dick, making sure everything is functioning. As you trail your hand along the underside of his shaft, Boothill’s thigh twitches, pushing against your head and forcing your face closer to his cock.

You let out a squeal of surprise, eyes darting up to Boothill, whose face is flushed a warm pink with his teeth pulled between his lips. “Didn’t know this would affect you this much.” You murmur, a playful edge in your voice. You hate to admit it, but you’re already half-hard from being so close to Boothill and working on him in such an… intimate way.

“Shut it, darling.’” The cyborg grunts, and you laugh at the way his hands curl into fists beside him. “Haven’t felt like this in a while.”

“I can tell.” You hum, tapping his tip a few times and smirking at the loud groan that leaves his lips.

“Fudging—” Boothill grunts, his hand grabbing tightly at your shoulder as you stand up. “Such a fudgin’ tease, aren’t ya, sweetie?”

“Dunno what you're talking about Boothill.” You say, feigning innocence. Sitting up from your kneeling position you grab the remote. “Any idea what this is?” You question, showing it to Boothill.

He eyes it carefully before shrugging. “Nah, got no clue.”

“Well, that’s a shame.” You huff. “Cause I found it inside you.”

Boothill gapes at you, his jaw going slack. “Inside me!?” He roars. “And you just—just took it out!? What if I need that to live?!”

“Relax, cowboy,” you groan, his loud voice getting on your nerves slightly, “it wasn’t connected to anything, and you seem pretty fine now.”

Boothill glares at you seemingly having forgotten about his rock-hard erection standing tall against his metal abs. “Give it here.” He says, making a ‘give’ motion with his fingers. He practically snatches it from your hand the instant you’re within arm's reach, his hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer as he grabs at the remote. “Hmm…” He hums, inspecting it in his hands. Slowly, he slides the panel down, revealing two short words that make the two of you gasp.

“Censorship… Control.” Boothill reads, and you instantly snatch the remote into your hands.

“Hey!” Boothill yells! “Wait a darn minute—I need that!”

“No,” you respond flatly, “you don’t. Whoever built in that censorship must’ve done it for a reason—”

“Yeah!” Boothill grunts. “To annoy the fudge outa me!” He growls again, desperately trying to reach for the remote again. “Oh, fudgin’ give it! What’ll it take for you to give me the darn thing?!”

You grin.

Finally, he asked.

“I think a good enough payment would be to test out this new dick of yours.”

Boothill’s expression turns from anger and annoyance to a smirk in the blink of an eye. His hands are no longer grabbing at the remote, and instead resting on your waist. “Oh?” He coos. “Didn’t know you liked me that much.” He smirks, leaning closer to whisper in your ear. “But a test drive would be so much more fun if I had my swearin’ back. Think of all the dirty lil’ things I could say to you, hm?”

Your face flushes as you feel Boothill’s cool breath fan over your ear. “I bet you'd really like if I turned it off, be able to swear to your heart’s content” You do your best to stand your ground, ignoring the blood that rushes to your cock and the way your pants grow tight. “But I think I can think of a better way to put your mouth to use.”

Boothill growls lowly, his grip moving from your waist to your ass to give it a harsh squeeze. “Turn it off and I might just show you what this mouth of mine is capable of.”

“Hmph.” You grunt. “Fine. Let's see how dirty this mouth of yours can get, Boothill." You whisper, your warm breath fanning over his chest. With that, you’re flicking his censorship off, once again leaving Boothill free to say whatever he wants.

“Atta boy.” He growls.

Boothill’s eyes narrow as you flick the remote, effectively ending his censorship. Your face flushes, watching his lips pull into a wide grin as he grips your ass, tugging down your pants and leaving them dropped at your ankles. “Don’t worry whore, I’ll show you just how good I am.” Boothill growls, his voice dropping an octave. “I’ll have you screaming my name while you’re wrapped ‘round my cock.”

You don’t say anything, only moving to press your face further into his neck.

“I’ll tell you every dirty word, every filthy thought that crosses my mind while I pound into your tight fuckin’ hole.” Boothill groans, starting to tug down your boxers too.

And suddenly, like he only now could process the extent that he could speak, Boothill is tugging you away from him only to press his lips harshly into you, murmuring into the kiss as he does. “You little slut, I’m gonna fuck you till you’re stuffed fuckin’ full of my dick. You’ll be drenched in your own cum, worshiping my cock, begging for more.” He lets out a loud groan, pulling away. “And don’t think you can fuckin’ hide, ‘cause I’ll take you right here an’ now, on your stupid workbench.”

A wicked grin spreads across his face, watching the sight of your absolute arousal dripping down your dick.

“Look at you, so fuckin’ hard.” He wraps his palm around your cock, giving it a sharp tug before pulling his hand away only to return with a sharp slap against your tip. “Bet you’d pull your pants down for anyone on the street, like a common whore.”

You whine, knees buckling at the slap. You collapse onto Boothill’s chest, letting out a plethora of pathetic sounds as you do.

“Aww.” Boothill coos, lifting your chin to face him. “This weak already?”

He grips your body, getting off your workbench only to lay you on top of it. You lay flat on your tummy, with you face pressed into the thin padding of the workbench.

“You’re gonna be a good boy now, an’ take what I give you, ‘kay?” Boothil says, bending your knees to push your ass into the air. His finger teases your puckered hole, tracing your rim, but never pushing anything in,

“Boothill.” You whine. “Put it in already!”

“What’d I say?” Boothill growls, bringing down a hand against your ass in a harsh spank. “That you’re gonna take what?”

“T-Take what you give me!” You whine, pressing your face into the cushion in embarrassment.

You can’t believe what’s currently happening. Here you are, face down and your ass in the air as Boothill eases a finger into your tight hole, occasionally giving mean spanks against your balls and ass.

Eventually, Boothill presses his first finger in. The feeling makes you gasp out, your back arching against the workbench. His fingers are so thick. You whine out, instinctively rocking your hips against his fingers.

“That’s it.” Boothill praises, bringing a hand to rub your back gently. “Fuck yourself on my fingers, like a good lil’ slut.” He presses in another finger, beginning to match the pace of your hips as he curls them.

He thrusts them in and out, and in and out until you’re seeing stars. Your eyes are rolled back, drool slipping from your lips as you moan and writhe against Boothill’s hand. He curls his fingers, easily finding your prostate and laughing cruelly when your dick twitches.

“Fuck, you’re so easy.” He moans, watching you fuck against his fingers. Slowly, he grabs his new metal dick, dragging the cool tip across the crack of your ass. You whine, your eyes squeezing shut at the cold sensation.

“Boothill!” You moan out. “D-Don’t stop, I—I’m so close!”

“Oh?” He questions. “And who told you that you had any right to tell me what to do?”

Just like that, he’s pulling his fingers away from you. You’re a whining, crying mess at that. Sobbing about how you needed his fingers, his dick, his anything to make you come. “Please!” You beg. “Need t’cum so badly!”

“Really?” Boothill smirks. “If that’s really what you want…” He tugs you off the workbench, watching you fall to the floor into a pathetic heap. “Then beg me for it.”

You nod eagerly, instantly getting on your knees and kissing against Boothill’s hard cock. The rough concrete of the floor is painful against your bare knees, but you can make due.

You’re quick to take his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the cool metal before pressing your lips slightly lower. Your tongue presses down, forced to drag along his underside the more you take him in.

You blink up at Boothill, tears welling in your eyes as you plead with him to help you. Help you. Use you. It didn’t matter.

Boothill lets out a tsk before grabbing your hair harshly. “What happened to my smart mechanic I knew so well? When’d he get replaced by this cock-hungry bitch who can’t even suck dick to save his life?”

At that, Boothill’s pressing your face all the way down. Your nose pokes at the cold metal of his pelvis before he’s pulling you back and thrusting his dick deep down your throat. He sets a quick pace, fucking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a fleshlight for him to use and throw away at his disposal.

Your jaw hangs slack, tongue forcefully dragging along the metal of his cock. Drool slips from your lips but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when your mouth is being stuffed so full. Boothill’s pace quickens and you moan weakly around his cock, feeling something poke at your own.

From what you manage to see through the corner of your eye, Boothill is stepping on your dick, rubbing the sole of his dirty shoe against your tip as it leaks precum all over the rough concrete. The feeling of his shoe on your dick, his cock stuffing your mouth—it’s all enough to send you over the edge.

Your eyes squeeze shut, your cock twitching pathetically under Boothill’s shoe as you shoot ropes of cum from your tip. Some of it sticks to the bottom of his shoe, and some squirts farther. Boothill laughs, rubbing his shoe harder into your dick, watching you whine around his cock.

“C’mon slut, you can take it. This is the payment you wanted, so don’t go crying on me now.”

© KISSENTURINE. do not translate, plagiarize, edit, or repost

[archangeldyke-all]

hi Angel!! Hope you are doing well (I know you are with the Sevika content)

I was thinking of Sevika w a girlfriend who LOVES to bite her like just “nom” any time they can (I suggest this because of the Caitlyn and Sevika moment yes)

heehhehehehhehehe micron i love u

men and minors dni

it's a good thing sevika likes being bit, because you just can't help yourself.

it's how you show affection, sometimes! or, even, if you're pissed you'll nip her to let her know. and fuck, how could you not wanna gnaw on her, when her muscles are so big and chew-able.

the only problem is, most of the time you end up turning sevika on, even if you don't really mean to.

she reaches across the table on your dinner date to wipe your mouth clean for you, and you'll nip her fingers in thanks; sevika ends up throwing a handful of coins on the table and dragging you out of the restaurant to get home.

she's being unreasonably bitchy to theiram after a bad day and you'll nip her earlobe to calm her down. it does more than calm her down though, and you guys end up making out at the bar.

if you ever need sevika to say yes to something, you just gotta give her a hickey. by the time you've sucked the bruise into her skin, sevika's putty in your hands, smiling drunkenly up at you andready to agree to anything you say.

"sevika, baby..." you coo, your thumb rubbing the hickey blossoming on her skin. "please come to the opera with me. when 're we ever gonna get the chance again? we can dress up nice, smoke a big joint on the way up, and pig out on all the nice appetizers and wine..."

"yeah, alright." sevika agrees happily, smiling up at you. "we're gonna find some dark corner to make out in though." she says. you grin and swoop down to kiss her again.

if you ever need her to relax, you pin her to the closest flat surface and start nibbling on her collarbones. she'll melt under your touch, and you'll start scratching at her scalp. when she finally lets out a gusty sigh, you can talk to her.

"what's goin' on, baby? you're all stressed."

"just... silco." she mumbles. you chuckle, nipping the tip of her nose. she smiles.

"dunno if you know this but... silco's not here." you tease her, gesturing out to you apartment. "he doesn't even have a key. you're safe here, baby." sevika rolls her eyes and bites your cheek, pulling you in for a hug.

and, best of all, if you need her desperate and begging for you all you have to do is really sink your teeth into her.

"'s cute how easy you are for me." sevika teases from above you.

you scowl and pout, and then smirk a bit when you remember your superpower. "c'mere." you demand, pulling sevika down.

when you sink your teeth into her shoulder, sevika collapses on top of you, her confidence and bravado evaporating with your teeth in her throat. she whimpers and whines, wiggling against you. "y-you're evil." she whines.

you giggle. "thought i was easy."

sevika just pouts, before shooting forward to kiss you again.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz

[heartdesire]

     star   athlete   begins   to   grow   bored   as   seconds   drift   to   minutes,   women   attempt   to   approach   like   sirens   traversing   through   saltwater.   promises   of   a   night   he   would   be   unable   to   forget   heavy   on   their   tongues   and,   really,   if   he   had   been   anyone   else   one   would   allow   himself   to   be   pulled   under   tumultuous   currents   without   a   fight.   however,   chance   hayashi   is   particularly   fastidious   in   his   choice   of   women.   news   outlets   and   zealots   in   internet   forums   take   their   time   to   meticulously   piece   together   attributes   of   every   women   athlete   is   identified   with   no   matter   how   obscure   photographs   may   be.   a   woman   of   shorter   stature   is   nothing   atypical   to   him   yet   deems   it   a   necessary   quality   nonetheless;   quadruplet   brother   once   commenting   it   could   tie   into   athlete's   constant   need   to   be   venerated.   women   that   would   place   him   on   the   highest   of   pedestals   before   singing   him   his   praises   (   .   .   .   )   a   behavior   akin   to   religious   worshippers   falling   to   their   knees   upon   holy   ground   for   higher   beings   with   rumored   ability   to   cleanse   mankind   of   their   sins.   prefers   a   woman   beauteous   enough   for   men   to   look   at   him   with   utter   disdain   knowing   anyone   on   his   arm   would   never   dream   of   going   for   lesser   than   him.   however,   no   one   possesses   enough   gravitational   pull   to   captivate   him,   shooing   them   away   to   pick   apart   at   his   teammates   with   a   dismissive   wave   of   his   hand.   he   sits   atop   chesterfield   like   sovereign   sitting   on   a   throne,   ennui   clearly   present   on   countenance   while   eyes   flicker   around   cabaret   in   disinterest.   lip   of   cognac   grande   champagne   rests   on   lower   brim,   bottle   nearing   its   end   before   he   realizes.   ❝   'm   gonna   head   to   the   bar.   ❞   states   to   companion   on   his   right,   unsure   of   why   he   does   so   to   begin   with   —   would   not   be   bringing   the   other   back   anything   for   his   efforts   and   entertainment   swirling   her   hips   in   his   lap   has   him   fairly   enthralled.   homme   rises   to   feet   without   even   a   sway   to   his   step,   years   of   sneaking   alcohol   consumption   into   daily   adolescent   life   preparing   him   for   moments   such   as   these,   manuevering   languidly   through   the   groups   of   people   conversing   or   throwing   their   finances   on   stage.   though,   if   he   were   moving   any   faster,   he   surely   would   have   missed   cherub   seemingly   making   a   beeline   for   the   section   he   left   behind   mere   seconds   ago.   blush   -   colored   ensemble   emits   a   fetching   gleam,   pulling   him   in   similarly   to   a   lighthouse   beckoning   a   naval   vessel   to   harbor.   chance   doesn't   have   to   think   about   his   next   course   of   action,   long   limbs   closing   the   distance   between   them   and   successfully   intercepting   her   path,   a   steady   hand   coming   up   to   perch   on   her   shoulder   to   avoid   collision.      ❝   you   do   private   shows,   right?   ❞   question   doesn't   precisely   need   an   answer,   albeit   he   allows   it   to   sit   between   them   for   a   moment.   ❝   you'd   have   a   way   better   night   with   me   than   with   anyone   else   here.   ❞      cannot   help   the   way   eyes   oogle   prize   delievered   to   him   on   a   silver   platter,   immediately   checking   off   boxes   on   mental   checklist.   this   was   an   opportunity   of   a   lifetime   for   her   and   one   thinks   she'd   be   a   fool   to   deny   him   of   what   he   wants.

˚   ₊   ‧   𓈒   ❀   spotted,   the   upcoming   season's   incomparable,   nestled   in   some   hole   -   in   -   the   -   wall   nightclub,   humming   a   melody   plucked   straight   from   dark   matter.   it   is   like   all   of   the   ones   that   have   come   before   it,   nameless   and   teetering   between   simply   inexpressible,   as   lithe   figure   reposes   against   a   folding   canvas   chair,   a   doe   -   foot   applicator   dipped   in   a   crystallized   gloss   skimming   across   heart   -   shaped   petals   when   it   happens   ———   cabaret's   makeshift   dressing   room   descending   into   pure   anarchy   as   women   her   age   and   older   shuffle   in   and   out   with   nothing   but   malachai   on   the   tip   of   their   tongues.   and   while   it   takes   femme   a   heartbeat   too   long   to   notice   that,   yes,   that   is   her   name   (   however,   she   has   told   them   an   uncountable   amount   of   times   that   she   is   far   more   impartial   to   kai   .   .   .   )   she   knows   exactly   what   is   expected   of   her   before   it   is   even   uttered.   ❛   let   me   guess   (   .   .   .   )   she   struck   out   with   some   golden   state   warrior   and   now   you're   sending   me   out   there   even   though   i   told   all   of   you   i   have   a   client   tonight   and   don't   have   time   to   entertain   some   has   been   ?   ❜   manicured   digits   are   able   to   grasp   at   seat   when   she   turns   and   faces   them,   cranium   tilting   to   the   side   in   a   way   that   resembles   a   cat   who   has   yet   to   figure   something   out,   deep   -   brown   orbs   undulating   at   scattered  ��responses.   ❛   you   better   decide   which   one   of   you   is   forking   over   your   tips.   i   don't   even   have   time   to   change.   ❜   last   sentence   is   murmured   to   self   as   kitten   heels   meet   flooring   beneath   her,   unable   to   overlook   the   vexation   she   feels   when   she   takes   a   final   glimpse   at   the   mirror.   tonights   costume   is   everything   that   her   client   likes   ———   and   while   it   cannot   be   further   from   what   she   dons   in   her   day   -   to   -   day,   all   dollette   can   hear   is   managers   antagonistic   (   the   client   is   always   right   )   tirade.   an   obvious   downside   of   her   occupation,   but   malachai   ishihara   is   twenty   years   old,   and   has   only   lived   the   sort   of   life   where   she   can   do   nothing   but   she   has   been   directed   to   do.   it   is   not   something   she   can   dwell   upon,   especially   when   she   steps   out   of   discotheque's   wardrobe.   fluorescent   lights   are   unable   to   capture   every   feature,   such   as   the   rosiness   of   her   cheeks   or   her   wispy   eyelashes,   and   yet,   there   she   stands,   an   ethereal   beauty   amongst   them   all.   

[banggyu0308]

01:21AM // Choi Yeonjun

choi yeonjun x fem!reader

summary: sneaking out to the hotel pool after it's closed is probably the highlight of you staying with your boyfriend while his band is on tour

genre: smut

warnings: pool sex, nipple play, dacryphilia, slight scratching kink, creampie, yeonjun talks about himself in third person a couple times, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, exhibitionism, yeonjun calls reader 'baby', i wouldn't want to swim in this pool afterwards

word count: 2k

a/n: read the rest of my 'like our summer' fics here!!

taglist: @sunnibearr @dido-of-the-endless @tyunkus @boba-beom

"C'mon, no one's gonna see us, and even if they do, it's not like we're gonna get in trouble!" Yeonjun grins at you in the semi-darkness. His hand is wrapped loosely around your wrist, tugging you closer to him. Before you can protest, he continues. "The hotel can't kick us out, we're probably the most famous people that have ever stayed here. And it's so late that no one is gonna even be awake right now!"

You're still not sure. Someone COULD be awake, someone COULD see you, and if they can't prove you're Yeonjun's friend, they're only gonna guess that you're dating.

But... The wide smile on his face makes you roll your eyes and give in, slipping your hand so instead of his hand around your wrist, his fingers are linked with yours. Yeonjun pumps his fist in the air once and hisses a small excited "yes!" before dragging you outside.

The air is hot and it's more than a little humid, as expected. You pull your t-shirt over your head to expose your bathing suit, then tug off your shorts as well. You slip into the pool as quietly as you can, stifling a shocked yelp when Yeonjun cannonballs into the water next to you.

You grab his arm when he surfaces with a stupid grin plastered on his face. He pulls away easily from you, water making his arms slick, and you grab his shoulders instead. "I thought we were supposed to be quiet!!"

He submerges himself completely under the water and swims away, the water lapping at the edges of the pool from his movements. "But quiet is no fun."

You glare at him and he purses his lips, rolling his eyes at you this time. "Fine. No more cannonballs. But-" Yeonjun swims closer to you, then wraps his arms around your waist, trapping you against his chest. "You have to promise to lighten up. It's supposed to be fun!"

You rest your head against his chest and close your eyes, exhaling softly. He's warm and you can hear his heartbeat, the sound making a small smile tilt the corners of your lips. "Can we just stay like this though? This is comfy..."

You're whining a little, which is NOT usually your look, but Yeonjun rests his cheek on the top of your head so... You guess it works. "Just for a little bit, since it's late and we should be sleeping, but then you have to swim!! What's the point of doing this in the first place if you're not going to swim?"

"Let me remind you, this was your idea," you mumble, only half listening to him.

"Yes, and it's a great one."

You scoff lightly and press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "Sure."

The both of you are quiet for a moment, the only sound the pool pump draining more water into the pool, and the grates on the edge of the pool taking the old water out.

Yeonjun lowers his lips to your ear and for a second, your breath catches like it did whenever he got this close when you just had a crush on him. He can 100% feel the way your heart races at the proximity, and the idea makes your cheeks grow hot, but you wait for his words.

"You look really pretty in this lighting..."

Your face gets even warmer before you realize something that makes you sputter out a laugh, water getting in your mouth and making you choke momentarily. Yeonjun looks so confused and you wave him away while you recover. "In the dark, Jjunie?? You think I look pretty when you can't see me???"

His eyes widen and his cheeks go pink in the almost pitch-black night. "N-no, I meant, I can see you just fine, the sky, and the- I..."

The flustered look on his face is worth everything, and you leave a reassuring kiss on his shoulder. "It's alright, I'm just messing with you..."

You're quiet again, eyes focused on him for a moment before you kiss him gently, hands on either side of his face.

You can feel Yeonjun's heartbeat speed up when he kisses you back, lips chasing yours when you break the kiss. His hands find your thighs and you let out a slight yelp when he tugs you farther onto his lap. You recover quickly, a slow smirk finding its way across your features when your hips roll down against his.

Yeonjun's eyes go wide again and his jaw goes slack. "Yn..."

His tone is more breathless than warning. You can't help your amused expression, instead trying to cover it by leaving a small line of hickeys up the side of his neck.

Your name falling from Yeonjun's lips again makes you look up, and you're met with Yeonjun looking down at you with more than a little lust in his eyes. That surprises you, but when he shakes his head to stop you from continuing, you smile. That's a little more in character for this situation.

"But Jjunie..." You pull your lips in a pout, thumb brushing over the corner of his lips. "Weren't you the one who said no one would see us~?"

"W-well, yes, but swimming in the pool is one thing, this is another..."

You silence him with another kiss, prepared to take the lead this time, but Yeonjun's grip tightens on your hips. Wordlessly, he slips one hand between your legs, lips practically battering yours. He tugs your bathing suit to the side, fingers finding your slick clit under the water and making one smooth circle.

You're incapable of anything other than stuttering when his pace picks up, a small whimper slipping from your trapped lips.

Yeonjun tsks, free hand moving to tilt your chin up. "Thought you said we had to be quiet... Can't have them finding us, now can we? It'd be so humiliating for you for them to see how fucked out my pretty baby gets on my cock..~"

The tone of his voice catches you off guard first, and by the time you comprehend his words, your mind is unable to think anything clearly. You can only tug at the waistband of his swim trunks, a small noise of amusement coming from his throat.

"Even more humiliating when she's whining at just my fingers..." He raises his eyebrows, moving you off of his lap and hooking his thumbs under his swim trunks. He makes a show of tugging them lower on his hips and tugging loosely at his cock once. Yeonjun pulls you into his lap once more with a grin, red tip of his dick pressing against your leaking entrance.

He doesn't make a further move, instead busying himself with running his pointer finger over your clothed nipple once, twice, and again. Your back arches into his touch, inadvertently taking him further into you, and Yeonjun lets a shadow of a disappointed emotion flicker across his face before one of pity takes its spot. "Baby's so greedy... when did you get so selfish? Let Jjunie take his time, hm?"

You bite your lip briefly before nodding, letting him lick and pinch at your nipples while your head rocks back at the pleasure.

Minutes go by and he makes no sign of wanting to stop anytime soon, enjoying your whines and moans and how tears of frustration well up in your eyes at the teasing. Your hands claw at his hair, whimpering out a small, "Jjun, please, need more..."

He smirks lightly, letting his hips fit just a half-inch closer to yours. "Better~?"

You cling to him, face in his neck, breathing ragged. "N-no, please, please, 've let you have fun, need..."

Yeonjun lets out a huff of impatience before suddenly pinning your hips to his pelvis, his pace slowed by the water, but still brutal enough that your nails dig into his back from the sudden stimulation. A choked sob wrenches itself from its place in your throat when he does, the tears that had previously built up in your lash line finally spilling down your cheeks.

Your rapacious walls are eager for everything you can get, tightening around him the second he's fully inside you, and Yeonjun hisses through his teeth. Obviously, he expected you to be tight once he finally had his way with you, but not like this, nothing like this. Gummy walls clamping down around him so tight he can't breathe, nails scratching red down his back, he's sure they'll be visible to the members tomorrow, but right now, he couldn't care less.

"So fuckin' good for me, taking me so well, fuck baby..." His face is in the crook of your neck, shaky exhales heating your skin.

The water sloshing around you splashes you in the face briefly and you spit it out, a whimper leaving your swollen lips when his speed never ceases. "Jjunie, Jjunie, gon' cum, please please please..."

Usually, Yeonjun'd mess with you a bit more, but he can't resist seeing you like this. Hair dripping with chlorinated water, face blotchy and streaked with tears... he can't help giving in. "Go ahead, baby, your Jjunie's right there with you, alright?"

You nod quickly, swallowing another watery moan when your walls convulse around him, your whole body shaking in absolution. Yeonjun lets himself get lost in the feeling of you around him for just a moment, bottom lip caught between his teeth, hips stuttering and bucking into yours before he paints your insides.

You hold onto each other for a few moments before collapsing into giggles, Yeonjun holding onto your hand to help you out of the pool.

Your combined elated mumbles as you walk back into the hotel, dripping with more than just the water, include, "so much for being quiet..." "says YOU, you were the loud one, you get such a mess so fast 🙄" "..." "..." "I hope they clean the pool before tomorrow morning... soobin said he wants to swim..."

[thydungeongal]

hi!! i’m just starting to get into game theory and design and was wondering if you had any essays or anything you would recommend. i’m breaking out of the dndsphere (to the shock and dismay of many friends lol) and your blog has been really interesting to read i appreciate your perspective <3

Hi, and thank you for the kind words! :) anyway, I sadly don't have, like, a bibliography of online articles that I tend to come back to, but instead have mostly developed my perspectives on RPGs by subconsciously tapping into the thoughtform of the weird transfeminine overmind and just reading a lot of games and partaking in this discussions.

And that would be my first piece of advice: read lots of games! Keep your eyes peeled for bundles that feature lots of games of various kinds to broaden your horizons. Bundle of Holding is a good resource for this, as is itch.io, and the former actually has an indie cornucopia available at the moment:

Anyway, I can't think of any particularly informative specific essays, but for some other blogs, here's Traverse Fantasy (creator of 0D&D clone Fantastic Medieval Campaigns):

Um, if you can find it, go read Wisher, Theurgist, Fatalist by @jennamoran. It's a game that is also almost like a dissertation on what games are. That's the best I can describe it.

There are some really informative and opinionated people out here on Tumblr as well, not all of them always posting about TTRPGs but with very interesting perspectives on them. If you want to take a peek behind the curtain of the creation of a very crunchy, deep RPG, I recommend following @anim-ttrpgs. The asks they get and the stuff they post are very illuminating about their specific approaches to game design. Other people whose game design perspectives I find extremely valuable (they may not post about game design on Tumblr on the regular but like still): @cavegirlpoems @jdragsky @open-sketchbook @prokopetz @theresattrpgforthat and too many others for me to list right now.

Anyway, yeah, read lots of games, and don't forget about old games. This is a 50-year-old hobby and in many ways it feels like we're only scratching the surface of what these roled playing glames can even do, but many many classic games and their contributions to the medium have also been forgotten. It's all well and good to know that D&D 5e is big and smelly and that some of the cool goth kids still play V5 and that there's also some games being Powered by the Apocalypse or Forging in the Dark, but it's equally valuable to know that 1st edition Traveller kind of whips sack, RuneQuest 1st edition was much more of a dungeon game than you would imagine based on modern RuneQuest, and that Paranoia 1e was actually really well-written and funny speculative fiction.

I hope that is at least somewhat useful. :)

[fiddleyoumust]

So, the reality series The Boyfriend has eaten a large chunk of my brain recently. I'm not usually a huge reality TV person, but this show is scratching my brain so well, and I think it's mostly because it's very communication focused. So we get a lot of these men being exposed to different ideas and perspectives, different ways of communicating and problem solving, and most importantly, different ways of being in intimate relationships.

Shun is not my favorite person in the house, but I do find him the most fascinating to watch navigate these new relationships. He's extremely low energy, moody, introverted, outwardly calm, and reflective. He very obviously does not trust his own instincts about love and relationships, which is understandable given what he's revealed about past partners.

There is obviously a lot going on with Shun below the surface, and I get the feeling he is an extremely emotional person who has gotten very good at masking those emotions because he's never had anyone who cared about him enough to unmask them. We show our emotions to others because we want something in return - validation, comfort, understanding, etc. But we are able to show those emotions because we have an understanding with the people we are showing them to, that we will get something in return, that they care enough to give us something back for being open about our feelings.

Shun, an orphan who spent his entire childhood in an orphanage and who has had mostly toxic romantic relationships, hasn't had anyone he could trust enough to share his emotions with, so he is very closed off, even though he has a good understanding of his emotions and is a very good communicator when he needs to be. I think Dai (the guy Shun is most interested in) is a great fit for him, even though Shun hasn't fully realized it yet. Dai is ready to be that person for Shun, and his desire for Shun to trust him, his desire to be Shun's safe space is palpable in every move he's made to get closer to Shun.

In one of the most recent episodes, Shun passes up the opportunity to spend time with Dai simply because Shun's in a bad mood. He immediately feels bad about it because he knows his rejection hurt Dai's feelings. When Dai gets back from the daily mission, Shun makes a failed attempt to explain himself.

The conversation is so interesting because Shun is making a case for why not going with Dai was his perogative and Dai, who is just a really excellent person, and who has really tried hard to meet Shun where he is emotionally, is 100% not interested in having that conversation. Because he doesn't actually care if Shun wanted to go or not go, it's Shun's disregard for Dai's feelings that he's upset about. It's being taken for granted. They are not having the same conversation. But Dai also doesn't want to tell Shun how to fix it because he wants Shun to care about him enough to figure it out on his own.

They leave that conversation with Shun feeling worse than when he went into it. He goes off to sulk with a bottle of wine. Then Taehon, another contestant, joins him, and they have one of the best conversations I've seen on a reality show.

Shun talks about why he didn't go on the daily mission with Dai and how he doesn't feel like he had to volunteer to go, even though he likes Dai a lot. Taehon validates Shun's feelings, and here is the part that really hit me, and the part that I really hope Shun remembers later because he's revealed a bit about his past relationships and it seems like he was very much a person who got obsessed and lost himself to the whims of the men he's been interested in.

Shun tells Taehon, "I'm not obligated to go with Dai. We're not even dating yet." And Taehon replies, "Even if you were dating already, you're still not obligated to go." And MY GOD I hope those words stay with Shun for the rest of his life. That was something someone like Shun NEEDED to hear. You do not have to bend to the whims of your romantic partner. They are not entitled to drag you beyond your boundaries, and it is 100% okay to set boundaries and demand your romantic partners respect them.

Shun goes on to wonder if he wasn't wrong, why does he still feel so bad about what happened. Taehon tells him maybe focusing on right and wrong isn't what's important here, and Shun all on his own realizes what he feels bad about is hurting Dai's feelings, and even if hurting Dai wasn't intentional, and even though Shun had the right to not spend time with Dai, he should still let Dai know he's sorry that his choice caused Dai pain.

So, Shun apologizes for hurting Dai, and Dai is very happy, and the two of them get back on track. The entire show is so emotionally satisfying because you get to see in real time the ways people communicate, the intricacies of navigating new relationships, both romantic and not. If you enjoy watching people in all their odd, frustrating beauty, I highly recommend checking out The Boyfriend on Netflix. It's delightful.

[taurder]

Relax

top!dom!reader x sub!miguel o'hara.

contains: sub space, kinda? begging, praise kink, riding, implied spider-person reader, nipple play (just biting and sucking)

"that's it boss, take your frustrations out with me" miguel groans notably at the nickname but his movements don't stop, and neither does your words. "you look so good like this, working hard even if it's past office hours".

this does gets him to flash out his claws, the sound of the wall being scratched adding to the ambience of what's happening inside miguel's office. you get your hands in his waist, mostly admiring the way his abs flex with each move, the way his cock bobs up and down, shining with pre cum. his hands were still against the wall as his body towered against yours. you could barely tilt your head up into the couch to watch his concentrated state. his moans were soft and low but there. this has been going on for over half an hour now.

you saw the way he was foaming at the mouth when that meeting ended. sometimes the other spiders got in his nerves, and with last week's stressful anomalies you knew he needed something else to loosen up and forget about his mission for a moment.

the hq was mostly empty thanks to you sending out spider-people to take a day off, and so you two were almost entirely cleared out to have fun. at first miguel had been snickering about the others, even as you were prepping him, all he could muster was soft and angry recalls. "imbéciles" he had called them, but with each finger you added and when he finally sat down in your cock his focus changed to the moment. and has been like that for the past forty five minutes.

you squeezed at his waist now, small compared to the rest of his torso and chest. "fuck– i think i'm ready to cum now. can you..?" he muffled out, not really looking at you but slowing down the way he was making circles against your pelvis. "you're relaxed enough?" you asked back, an underlying you don't need more? hiding in the other question, but he pushed his ass back, getting lower to press into you more. "please?" he whined, tone wanton and needy, enough to convince you all his thoughts and needs were here.

you thrusted up while holding his waist down and his dick spilled out more pre cum as a response. you haven't spend much energy in this whole interaction, so you didn't need to try much to set a fast rhythm that had miguel keening in pleasure. he was tired, so he lowered his arms fron the wall, leaning to put his face against the cold surface, moaning more loudly when the new position allowed you to lick and suck at his nipples easily. his ass tighten and you fucked into him harder.

"ah, ah, ah! más– please please, keep going, please" he begged prettily and so you hit his prostate as a reward, one that he appreciated much, you could tell with the groan that came out of his throat. a few more thrusts aimed like that and he was done. he sobbed at you, pushing his tits closer to your mouth as his dick painted both of your torsos with white lines of semen. he ride you still, happy to bring you to your own climax even as he was coming down from his. miguel swears in between moans when you bite slightly at his nipple, cumming inside of him after a well built in orgasm.

"i needed that" he whispered, satisfied and full as he laid back a little to take your face into his hands, claws retracting as he looked at you, thankful. you grabbed his ass then, sliding one of your fingers inside along with your dick, watching him shiver and smile while pushing back into you. "tired already, boss? we're not done yet".

[adrenalineaquaries]

Something I was randomly thinking of while scrolling through the 'Humans are space orcs' tag.

Aliens are perplexed about a human's physical abilities and appearance (and mental strength but that's for another time), right?

I want to know how humans react to this knowledge. I want to see a human struggling to comprehend why aliens find humans scary. Aliens. The galactic creatures that have tentacles, horns, multiple eyes, could be insanely tall, have claws, sharp teeth, yada yada. And yet humans terrify them? Humans. These short, fleshy creatures that have limited ability with their skinny legs and their small fingers. These squishy beings that can barely understand their own species and can (almost) never get along. These weird abominations that either don't die despite falling off of a mountain side or instantly destroys half of their bodily system by falling down a few flight of stairs.

Of course, humans are the one's thinking this way. Many of them don't consider themselves to be anything special or even interesting and then suddenly, aliens think that they are amongst the most vicious creatures in the universe??? They don't understand why??? And there’s just confusion on both sides.

I'm just rambling at this point but I really just wanted to write this down.

Also bonus:

---------------------------

"You...think I'm scary?" The human pointed to xemself.

Tynid nodded. How could xe not? Humans were scarily powerful. They were durable, had good endurance, fast, agile, strong, a predator, and were venomous. Xe is just scratching the surface, if xe was being honest. So why did the human look so...unsure?

"I...really don't get why you all are scared. I mean, look at you!" The human gestured to Tynid. "You're tall, have horns, has a tail that could probably snap my bones in one swing- just." The human fell silent.

"I'm...we're not that scary, we can't be that scary compared to other sentient life out there. It just doesn't make sense..."

Tynid didn't know how to feel. Why is the human so convinced that xe wasn't scary? Why is xe so convinced that they were all scarier? Was xe unaware of xes own prowess? Were all humans like this?

-cutting it off here because I don't know how to write sci-fi; also cus I don't know what I'm doing-

---------------------------

Also, what do aliens think of countries and the different languages? I'm curious what would happen if an alien met someone from the Nordic countries or from Southeastern Asia or from an African country. Just some food for thought.

[luvismenu]

Promise You - JJK

✎ 22 ready — index 〃

note: we're almost there!!!

♡ — permanent taglist: @jksctrl @ari420sstuff @blluee1128 @https-mei @jkvias @blaricee @iheartchanelle @whoa-jo @wobblewobble822 @jkslvsnella @clxssy1997 @nikkinikj @kayleesaltzmann @rrosiitas @naurnonope @lola75111 @somehowukook @redcherrykook @parkinglot-nights @deluluisdasolulu @minghaosimp @hyeon-yi @ririkookiemonster @svtrighthereworld @jmscaffeine @trinityxsope @taetaecatboy @butnotmontana @joyofbebbanburg @elinaki92 @sweetmimosa28

series taglist: @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @jksgirlhere @vrsltz @jaytheatiny

Today is the day.

You’re going to confess your feelings to Jungkook.

If you really think about it, you’ve always liked him. But you never wanted to cross the line between friendship and something more.

He’s handsome, hot, and honestly the perfect man. But none of that ever mattered to you, not until after your first breakup. That’s when you really noticed him, the way he took care of you, doing everything he could to make sure you were okay.

You even remember the moments when you wanted to kiss him.

So many times.

But you didn’t. You told yourself it wasn’t right.

Falling for your best friend just because he cared about you? It felt silly, like you were confusing kindness with something more. So, you ignored those feelings, convincing yourself that it was just your lowest point.

But this?

This is different.

Now, you like him— you love him.

You want him.

The feelings never left. They’ve always lingered, simmering under the surface. You can’t even count the times you almost took the risk, almost crossed that invisible line between friends.

And then, when you found out he was going out with a co-worker, it hit you like a punch to the chest. That was your last straw. It was all the confirmation you needed.

You like him more than you don’t want to.

“___! What are you thinking about?” Taehyung shouts from the living room, where everyone’s busy chatting away.

“Oh… uh, where's—”

“Jungkook's on his way,” Yoongi interrupts as he strolls into the kitchen and snatches the bag of chips sitting next to you on the counter. “He’s sending his mom off today.”

You grab a drink and follow Yoongi back to the living room.

“How are you feeling, baby cousin?” Jin asks, flashing a grin while trying to swipe Yoongi’s chips, only to get his hand smacked away.

“I’m finee! And don’t call me that,” you say with a glare, earning a round of chuckles from the others.

“I heard today is the confession day,” Jimin teases, raising a brow with a mischievous grin.

You gasp and whip your head toward Taehyung. “You told them!?”

He nearly chokes on the cookies he’s stuffing into his mouth, throwing his hands up in defense. “It slipped out!”

You narrow your eyes at him, but Taehyung just shrugs it off and slings an arm over your shoulder.

“It’ll be fine, ___.” He gives you a reassuring squeeze. “Jungkook’s been dying to confess, so of course—”

The room falls into stunned silence, everyone glaring at Taehyung.

“I mean—” He stammers, backing off with a nervous chuckle as the others let out collective sighs.

“Oh, come on!” Taehyung groans dramatically, tossing his head back. “I’m tired of keeping it a secret! Please don’t tell Jungkook I said that.”

“He... likes me back?” you murmur, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Surprise, surprise,” Hoseok says with a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his neck.

Your heart is racing.

This can’t be real.

“Does he really—”

The front door creaks open, and all heads turn toward it. Jungkook steps inside, holding a large box in his hands. His brows knit together in confusion as he takes in everyone’s strange expressions.

“What?” he asks, scanning the room. His gaze lands on you, and for a moment, he freezes.

Then his eyes soften, and there’s a flicker of relief on his face, like seeing you made everything better.

“What’s in the box?” Jin breaks the silence,

Jungkook glances down at the box, then back at you. “Mom’s homemade snacks,” he replies, and the room lights up with excitement.

Taehyung immediately tries to snatch the box, but Jungkook pulls it away just in time. “They’re for everyone,” he says with a playful glare, handing the box to Taehyung, who grins in triumph.

The next hour flies by in a blur of chatter and laughter, everyone enjoying the snacks and each other’s company. You and Jungkook share quick glances, the awkwardness lingering in the air between you.

“We should get going now,” Namjoon announces, standing up.

“What? But we just got here!” Taehyung whines, crossing his arms which causes Namjoon to shoot him a warning look.

“Did you forget about the important business?” Hoseok adds through gritted teeth, giving Taehyung a glare.

Taehyung freezes for a second before clapping his hands together. “Oh! Right! Haha, of course, I didn’t forget. Yeah, we should totally go.”

You suppress a smile, knowing exactly what they’re up to.

As the group starts to leave, Namjoon gives you a small nod, as if to say, Now’s your chance.

You smile back, watching them file out the door one by one, until only you and Jungkook are left behind.

“...”

“...”

“I have to tell—”

“I have to tell you—”

You both speak at the same time, then stop, exchanging small chuckles.

“I’m ready to talk, Kook,” you say, and he swears his heart skips a beat.

“___,” he begins, his voice softer now. You meet his gaze, waiting for him to continue. “I need to tell you something first.”

“But, I—”

“Please?” he interrupts. “I need to say this before whatever it is you have to tell me. If I don’t do it now...” He sighs deeply, as if trying to gather courage. “I just... need to.”

You nod, giving him the space to continue.

He takes a deep breath, shifting on his feet nervously. His hands twitch like he wants to reach for you but thinks better of it.

“I’ve liked you for a long time. Well.. I.. love you, ___” Jungkook admits, his voice almost a whisper. “I kept it to myself because I didn’t want to ruin what we have. I thought... if I told you and you didn’t feel the same, it would change everything. And I didn’t want to lose you— I don't want to lose you”

Your breath catches, and he looks at you with those soft, vulnerable eyes you’ve rarely seen.

“You mean so much to me, ___” he continues. “More than I ever let you know. And it’s okay if you don’t like me back, really. I just...”

He pauses, biting his lip, as if he’s still debating whether this was a good idea. “I’ll always be your best friend, no matter what. That won’t ever change. I just needed to be honest with you, because I’ve kept it in for too long.”

“I’m sorry I took so long,” Jungkook says softly, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before meeting yours again. “I kept waiting for you to do it first, thinking maybe... maybe that would mean you felt the same. But I was stupid.” He chuckles bitterly. “How was I ever going to know how you feel if I didn’t let you see me as anything other than a best friend? When I haven't even tried to confess?”

His hands fidget by his sides, “I thought... keeping things the way they were was safer. But in doing that, I probably made it harder for both of us.”

Jungkook glances away for a second, then looks back, eyes filled with uncertainty. “Even if you don’t feel the same, I’ll still be your best friend. I promise. I just... I couldn’t carry this any longer without you knowing.”

You lower your head, staring at the floor as your heart races uncontrollably, thudding against your chest.

“___?” Jungkook’s voice is soft, laced with concern. You can feel his gaze locked on you, as if he’s scared that he’s made a mistake by confessing.

He shifts closer, hesitating before gently calling your name again.

You want to speak, to tell him how you feel, but the words are tangled in your throat.

He panics.

“I swear I’ll always be here for you, as your best friend. That won’t change. You mean too much to me to lose you over this.”

He falls quiet, watching you closely, his heart practically in his throat.

Jungkook’s fingers brush lightly against your hand, a silent reassurance. He sighs softly. “___, It’s okay,” he whispers, his voice soothing. “You don’t have to say anything right now.”

But you do.

You have to.

You slowly lift your head, meeting his gaze with tear-filled eyes. The moment Jungkook sees them, his expression shifts from confusion to pure concern.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” he whispers, gently cupping your face

You try to speak, but the overwhelming emotions hit you all at once. A sob escapes your lips, and before you can stop yourself, you’re crying.

“Oh, bb,” he murmurs, his voice full of warmth and comfort. Without hesitation, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

His hand rubs soothing circles on your back as you bury your face into his chest, the familiar scent of him wrapping around you like a safety net. “Did I upset you? I’m so sorry,” he whispers

You shake your head against his chest, trying to tell him it’s not his fault, but the words get lost in your sobs.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, I swear,” he continues, his voice breaking slightly. He rests his chin on top of your head, cradling you protectively. “I hate seeing you like this.”

His presence is comforting; his arms, his words, and everything about him. And for a moment, it’s just the two of you, holding on to each other, as if the world outside doesn’t exist.

Just like that day.

“You… you really like me?” you ask, still holding him, your voice breaking with sobs.

He nods, brushing a thumb gently over your cheek. “I love you, bb. You know that.”

“I love you too, Kook. You know that,” you say, sniffling softly.

You pull back slightly, looking at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe this,” you whisper, shaking your head. “All this time...”

Jungkook lowers his head, guilt flickering in his eyes. “I’m sorr—”

“All this time, I was worried that you would never like me back!” you exclaim, your words tumbling out in a rush, like the relief has finally set in.

He freezes, his eyes wide with shock.

You can see the surprise etched across his face like he’s struggling to process what you just said. His heart races in his chest, pounding so hard it’s almost deafening.

“You… you were worried I wouldn’t like you back?” Jungkook asks, his voice barely above a whisper, like he can’t believe what he just heard.

You nod, wiping your tear-streaked face with your sleeve. “Yeah. I thought I was the only one feeling this way. I was.. scared.” you admit.

Jungkook’s eyes are teary like yours and a disbelieving laugh escapes him, almost in relief. “You were scared, too?”

“All this time,” you mutter, shaking your head at how ridiculous it all seems now. “I kept telling myself not to ruin our friendship. I thought I’d lose you if I said anything.”

Jungkook tilts your chin gently, making you look at him. “You could never lose me,” he says with conviction. “You’re my best friend, my favorite person... and now I know you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“I feel so stupid for waiting this long,” you whisper, sniffling.

Jungkook smiles, brushing a stray tear off your cheek. “Me too,” he admits.

“Why are you crying?” you ask, caught between sobs and laughter.

Jungkook lets out a shaky laugh, his own tears slipping down his face. “I’m just... I’m so in love with you.”

Your heart jumps.

You both laugh through the tears, the overwhelming emotions too much to contain. It feels surreal, like you’ve both been holding onto this moment for so long that it’s finally bursting free.

“I can’t believe this,” you whisper, wiping your face with the back of your hand.

Jungkook leans his forehead against yours, his hands cupping your face again. “Me neither. But I don’t want to go another day without telling you how much you mean to me.”

You close your eyes for a second, breathing him in. “Me neither,” you whisper back.

It’s messy, emotional, and perfect in its own way.

“Wait.”

a/n: hol' up- ✋🏻

[tleeaves]

...this was a jump-scare from my past self because for a moment there I did not realise I was the OP. And that's scary because I also don't remember writing this. I definitely agree with the sentiment and it's a fury I feel daily, but the memory of this post is simply Not There in the files of my brain. Except "fuck him lovingly" is something I would say.

WHO STARTED IT. WHICH MOTHERFUCKER IS RESPONSIBLE FOR DUMB MEN THINKING WOMEN ONLY WANT 6 FOOT TALL GUYS. MAYBE IT'S JUST CAUSE I'M SHORT AND THAT MEANS EVERYONE'S TALLER THAN ME BY DEFAULT BUT WHAT DOES IT MATTER. IF HE'S CUTE THEN HE'S CUTE, WINE AND DINE HIM, COURT HIM, BRING HIM ROSES, FUCK HIM LOVINGLY, WHY DOES HEIGHT MATTER IF HE'S CUTE??

[angelpuns]

50au Part 20

TW for blood, injury.

He was falling through space again. It wasn't like he dreamed it would happen as a kid. 

He wasn't bounding across the surface of the moon, wasn't gazing unflinching into the eye of a black hole, or gliding along the navy darkness and tracing constellations star by star. 

Because this wasn't space, not really. 

There were no stars. There were no beautiful, big planets for his eyes to trace the colors of. 

There was only a cold greyness that seemed to permeate his very being down to his soul. And dozens and dozens of broken down, destroyed alien ships. 

And of course, there was the krang. 

He was falling down, down, down, arms cradled to his chest like he was meant to be holding something there. But there was nothing. 

This is what it meant to save the world. He was going to die alone, with no one to even mourn his existence. New York probably wouldn’t even know what he'd done.

And that was okay. He didn't need anyone to remember him, just needed the world to be safe from the Krang. 

And it was, so there. 

Its just that…a hero's death was awfully lonely, wasn't it? 

Then he heard it, just on the edge of his hearing.

A screeching, a far reaching cry that seemed to pierce through his very brain. 

He turned and it was dark. Not at all like the prison dimension. 

It was pitch black. 

The terrible screeching cut off all at once and Leo twisted in the inky darkness to see where it was coming from. 

It was silent for far too long, the kind of echoing silence that made his heart beat too loud and too fast, that made him want to scratch at his brain until the oppressive, squeezing quiet was drowned out. 

“ ..Hello?” He whispered, voice rasping. It echoed back to him, the numbing silence seeming to chase the sound away aost as quickly as he emitted it. 

There was nothing for a long time. 

He floated there in still silence for ages and ages and ages, until something finally happened. A bright light filled his vision, something warm and comforting and calling for him. 

Like it was saying ‘ we're here. We remember you. We love you’ and all the sweet nothings Leo had been left without. 

He squinted against the brightness of it, a shape appearing within and growing into a silhouette. It stalked forward with an outstretched hand, and Leo obligingly leaned forward and grabbed it. 

The light dimmed instantly at the touch and Leo choked out a gasp, the fuzzy feeling he'd been reveling in extinguished like a flame. 

Krang prime chuckle, clawed grip tightening on his hand, “ I found you, pest!”

Leo tried to pull away, the claws only digging in further, Krang Prime dragging him into the portal with him. The inky darkness was replace again by the filmy grey of the prison dimension, Leo suddenly missing the overwhelming silence. This was so much worse. 

In an instant he was thrown into the ground, shell cracking against metal and rock alike, the pain splintering along his back and leaving him gasping. 

Krang Prime towered over him, laughing and flashing those sharp white teeth down at him, his silhouette blocking out the only light in the whole place. 

Breathlessly, Leo turned onto his plastron and tried to get away, desperately clawing at the dusty ground below as if it would help. 

He got several feet before the krang grabbed his leg, pain blossoming where his claws dug in. He yanked Leo back, the spot throbbing in time with his heartbeat. He didn't need to look to know there was blood, pain addled mind thinking that he needed to put pressure on it, needed to wrap it up, needed to disinfect. 

But there was none of that here. Not in thus place. 

The krang ripped it's hand away and Leo screamed into the ground, dirt and dust filling his mouth and lungs as he did. 

He turned onto his back to block the incoming blow, arms up, a bright red light shining down onto him, into his eyes, taking up all his vision and- 

Leo gasped so hard he began to choke, the air hitting the back of his throat with such force it was painful. He quickly sat up, gasping and choking for a moment before he finally managed to get another gulp of air. 

His TV flickered on and Leo huffed softly to himself. He really didn't want to deal with the sound if static right now. 

He sighed shakily, feeling lightheaded and beyond exhausted, like he’d barely even slept. 

His throat was beyond dry, Leo feeling blindly on his nightstand for a glass of water and his remote. He found the remote first and clicked the TV off, relieved at the lack of that staticky whining. 

The glass wasn’t there, though. Because he always forgot to actually grab a glass before bed. 

That was fine. He needed to calm down a little more anyway, and a brief patrol of the lair would be perfect. 

His whole body ached, still feeling the injuries from the dream. His shell almost always had a dull ache after dreams like this, so that was no surprise. He could still feel the phantom pains in his leg, too, but he was sure it'd wear off in a little bit. 

Leo swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, only to fall to his knees in pain a moment later. His leg burned white hot with pain, heartbeat throbbing in time with each pulsing sensation. It was exactly like his dream, but he was healed, so-

He unclenched his jaw and glanced down at his leg. His calf was wrapped tight in bandages, secured properly and everything. 

Okay, he didn't remember doing that. In fact, he didn't even remember getting injured. 

It made his head ache trying to remember the events of the day before, but he thinks he was on some sort of mission, so…

Leo sighed, leaning back against His bed frame. He was too tired and in too much pain to try and remember right now. The point was that he had at least bandaged himself up perfectly fine. He just needed to sleep it off. 

Leo struggled to climb back into bed, finally flopping down onto his pillow with a sigh. He would kill for some painkillers right now, but the good stuff was in the medbay, and he couldn't just drag himself all the way there. 

He rolled over to check his nightstand drawer for ibuprofen, and that's when he saw it. 

Just in the corner of his eye, a red dot. 

A red dot like a giant red eye- 

Leo didn't have time to tell himself not to panic. He sucked in a wheezing breath and turned his attention towards the dot. 

Far in the dark corners of his room, looming in the distance. Watching him. 

Panic seemed to squeeze his lungs, Leo quickly sitting up and shuffling back into the far corner of his hiding spot. 

Like if he curled into himself enough, Prime wouldn't find him.

 This was a good vantage point. Even though he couldn't breathe and his heart was pounding so loud Prime was sure to hear it, this was a good hiding spot. 

The dot didn't grow. Didn't move. 

Leo nearly choked on a sharp inhale, quickly covering his mouth to mask the sound.

 Did Prime see him? Is that why he wasn't moving? 

The red dot still didn't move, Leo squinting into the dark in an attempt to see it better. 

He was so far he couldn't see the way Prime was probably stalking towards him, playing with him like some sort of toy. 

And all Leo could do was stare, waiting for the dot to grow larger. Waiting for Prime to snatch him out of his hiding spot and kill him once and for all. 

He stared and stared and stared into the dark, the unwavering red dot the only thing he could see. 

Donnie woke with a crick in his neck and the sticky leftovers of drool on his cheek. 

“ Eughh, gross…”He murmured, sitting up and wiping at his face with a groan. He'd fallen asleep at his desk, papers and tools littering the surface.  

Right, he'd been working on a new net, just in case Leo got out again.  His monitor had gone to sleep at some point as well, Donnie quickly clicking to turn it back on.  

He yawned, waiting as it loaded up and the screen’s content faded back into view. 

It was a live feed of Leo's room, his solution to not being able to monitor him properly in the med bay. They didn't want him waking up and panicking at someone else being in the room, so this was his next best thing. 

Surprisingly, Leo was awake. And staring directly into the camera with wide eyes. Not moving. Not even blinking. 

From here, Donnie could see the TV was off, too, even though it should have turned on when Leo sat up. How long had he been awake? 

Donnie checked the time. It was 7 in the morning. Leo didn't move. 

“Is it frozen?” He muttered, zooming into Leo as much as he could. The pixelated form of his twin was moving slightly. 

Shaking, he recognized. 

How long had he been sitting there like that? 

Donnie clicked away and opened the files of recorded feed from the night before, which were being automatically updated every hour or so. 

Each video he clicked through was the same. Leo, in the corner of the room, staring wide eyed into the camera. 

For five videos in total. Just staring, unmoving. For five hours. 

Somewhere around midnight Leo had woken up, turned off the TV, and found himself staring at the dot. The dot on the camera that Donnie had installed there the night before. 

Fuck, what had he done. 

---

Hopefully this part doesn't need any more warnings, but please lemme know if it does.

The dot bit is the part I've been wanting to write for a while, but it isn't exactly what I envisioned so :/ It was meant to go differently, but with Leo's injury I had to change some things. This also seemed like the perfect time for it to happen.

Uhhh that's all I got. I wish I had written it differently but since this is supposed to be just ideas on paper, this is what I got lmao

Hope you enjoy <3

Part 1 | Part 19 | Part 21

[thewertsearch]

PCG: HE REALLY SEEMS TO HATE FROGS. ?GG: yeah… ?GG: the poor froggies :(

Keep him away from the Genesis Tadpole, Jade. If I were you, I'd probably just captchalogue every frog in the building for their own protection.

Come to think of it, it’s high time the kids upgraded their Fetch Modi. Dad’s freakishly spacious wallet is proof that their basic inventories are barely scratching the surface of the Sylladex's true potential.

I wouldn’t be surprised, for example, if you could make captcha cards whose contents can be deployed at extremely distant locations, or cards that can grab an enemy's weapons out of their hands. Let's just experiment with a bunch of alchemy combinations, and see what we come up with!

PCG: WAIT, DID HE FOLLOW YOU INTO THE PALACE TOO JUST NOW? PCG: IS THAT WHO YOU WERE YELLING AT? ?GG: he was growling at echidna and i had to tell him he was being very bad

I wonder why he didn’t attack her, then?

The trolls killed plenty of Denizens, but were powerless against Jack. That implies he’s significantly stronger than a Denizen, and should have no trouble dispatching Echidna...

...assuming, I guess, that the Denizens aren't holding back against their Players. If they are, they might actually be stronger than First Guardians, which is a scary thought.

Wait, hang on – is this Echidna's lair? Because a modern transportalizer pad feels like I'd be a little out-of-place in a mystical temple. Plus, come to think of it, I don't know why Jade would be keeping all her frogs off-site.

If we're actually in Jade’s mansion, then I’m digging its new look. It’s gone from ‘eccentric billionaire’s house’ to ‘nuclearpunk water temple full of amphibians, where a lone witch dressed in midnight works tirelessly to create a frog which will birth the universe.’

That's sick as hell, right? It could be the premise of a kickass fantasy novel, all on its own.

FGA: I Recommended [Jade] Return To Her Denizen For Advice PCG: ABOUT WHAT FGA: The Location Of The Final Frog Required To Complete The Gene Sequence FGA: One Whose Song Should Remove The Last Traces Of Dissonance From The Waveform FGA: The Creature Is Quite Elusive Remember

I’ve been working under the assumption that the Players had full control over the form their universe would take. However, the fact that there's such a thing as an 'incomplete' gene sequence seems to imply that the Players can be told their universe is wrong. In other words, there are correct and incorrect universes.

Who's doing the grading, then? What makes a universe 'dissonant'? Does Sburb have an ideal, ‘harmonious’ universe that it's measuring our frog against? If so, how does it define 'harmony'?

Perhaps every universe needs a specific set of traits, in order to ensure it doesn’t cause problems in the future. Like, maybe this final frog injects Sburb into the universe, ensuring that it goes on to propagate the cycle anew.

[transingthoseformers]

So!

I really really liked Transformers One!

The visuals were gorgeous, the characters were interesting, more under the cut

I especially liked the designs of the Quintessons, and the Quintesson ships. I liked how the ships themselves seemed like living organics up close, like some sort of massive arthropods.

I'll admit that initially learning Elita's VA had worried me, but I think Scarlett did manage to capture Elita's personality in a very interesting light— so much that I mayyyy have forgotten she was Elita's VA until the credits😅

there were so many recognizable characters in the background, but since I was. Well. In a theater and not in a place where I could pause and screenshot things I'm sure I missed quite a few Easter eggs

May I return to how much I loved the visuals??? Iacon felt alive and busy, and even though you can tell the surface was ravaged by the Quintessons it was full of so many interesting details. I fucking loved the shifting rocks and mountains

oughhh Airachnid was so cool, she gave me heavy xenomorph vibes.

I may or may not have quietly called D-16/Megatron Optimus's wife several times in the theater. I don't think my Grandma heard me as she was screwing around on her phone the majority of the time.

The transformations were pretty cool

Sentinel was the utter bastard I knew he'd be

They didn't kill the Quintessons or even directly go up against them, (which I was expecting them to go against them) which makes me think they might be saving that for a sequel or something.

LOVED THE END SEQUENCE OF D-16 FINALLY BECOMING MEGATRON AND ORION PAX BECOMING OPTIMUS PRIME, visually it was so cool

Alpha Trion's altmode was cool

I didn't expect it to have been Sentinel to scratch the first decepticon badge into Megatron's armor as a mocking gesture

Didn't expect the future decepticons to be called the High Guard, and to have their ties to the Thirteen Primes

again I loved how beautiful everything was, again and again

hehehe mild swearing in a PG movie

Probably more I can't think of right now!

Things I questioned / think could've been changed:

... I'll admit, as much as I love Megs, his character and progression from miner to leader of the decepticons felt a little out of character to me. I understand this is a new continuity with its own rules but I almost felt like Orion and D-16 should've been swapped. Idk, just an opinion. It felt very weird to hear D-16 go "mnnn but maybe we're better off as just miners, we're cogless :/", and I feel like his turn to seek violence was a bit fast.

I've seen the inclusion of Bee/B-127 as part of the original four questioned since the first trailer released, and while I liked him in the movie I do agree he might've should've been another character. Though, I'm inclined to suggest he maybe should've been Dion, and died somewhere at the end of the movie.

I'm a little disappointed we didn't get to see other possible Cybertronian cities like Tarn, Kaon, Vos, or Praxus. Idk if it'd've been realistic for them to include them, but still.

.Still not sure about Chris Hemsworth as Orion/Optimus.

Idk. I liked a lot of things about the movie, but there were a few things here and there, you know?

[gaylordscooter]

i just wanted some fucking clothes why is there a parasite manning the cash register

“free food, shelter and clothes? i could get used to this…” Killer surmised as he inspected the dark gray jacket he took from the rack.

He caught sight of the meaningless price tag and sucked in air through his teeth. “sixty dollars?” he muttered. Good thing they didn't have to pay.

“do you always talk out loud to yourself?” Horror questioned, watching him from behind.

“i’m not exactly talking to myself when you and hooded-creep are here.” Deciding the jacket looked cool enough for him, he removed his current hoodie to put it on. He tossed his old hoodie into the shopping cart, adding to the dangerously high pile of clothes.

A middle finger from the other side of the rack rose up.

“but i might as well be talking to myself ‘cus of how quiet you two are. bird flipper, do you ever speak?”

The answer was silence.

“figures…hey i just realized any time we talk to each other, we're talking to ourself.”

Dust tipped over the clothes rack with a forceful shove, causing it to fall on Killer.

“ow, what the heck, man?” It didn't hurt at all and he easily got the rack upright again, but some of the clothes fell off of it and made a mess on the floor. No one here was gonna clean that.

Dust walked out from behind the rack with a few garments in hand and stacked it on the pile.

They were about done shopping anyway, he guessed. Or at least, he assumed so. They’ve been here for a few hours now, but Horror was completely empty-handed.

“hey, crater-head, where's your haul? don't tell me you're not getting anything, you need new clothes the most with your rags.”

“i didn’t see anything i wanted,” he answered simply.

“really? this is a high-end store on the surface. your current getup is from the dump at waterfall.” He pointed at Dust. “look at him, he's all decked out now! covered literally head to toe, can’t even see any bone anymore.”

Horror looked unconvinced. “let's just go. i don't want that freak getting pissy at us for taking too long.”

If he had eyelights he would've rolled them, but he conceded. Not getting any clothes was his loss, but he swore if he ends up taking some of his clothes when they get back he’ll add to his kill count.

The three of them went on their way to the exit.

However, someone—a skeleton monster like them—was at the cash register, expectantly waiting for them to come over. The store was empty the entire time they were here, Nightmare made sure of it.

And the barrier in this universe hasn't been broken.

“Heya dawgs, how’s it hangin’?” the skeleton monster asked. “Yous three gonna pay for all that, right?”

His clothes hurt to look at. They were obnoxiously bright and tacky. His sunglasses that completely obscured his eye sockets literally spelled out “YOLO”. It was like the 90s threw up all over him. What alternate universe was this nut from?

Killer slipped his hand in the pocket of his shorts and curled it around the handle of his knife. He let out a shallow laugh. “what's it to you? you're not the store owner.”

“No duh, homeslice, but stealin’ is totes not rad!”

The way he talked was getting on his nerves. Scratch that, everything about him was getting on his nerves.

It seemed the other two felt the same. At any second, Dust was going to blast that 90’s disaster into the proper century.

“it's not like they're stealing from monsters. this is a human-owned store. i don't think they’d miss a few clothes,” Horror pointed out. “but if it bothers you so much, i’ll be on my way.”

“what?!” Killer exclaimed. He looked at Horror with an exaggerated look of betrayal on his face.

Horror made his way to the door. “hey, i’m not the one stealing. i’ll wait outside.” he said with indifference.

The other skeleton didn't protest at all when he left the building.

“butthole…what the?” Killer narrowed his eyes at his slip of the tongue. That’s not what he meant to say.

“Nah, homie, that chatter don't fly here.” The skeleton shook his head and his shades now spelt “NUH-UH”.

“you censored me?” His wariness skyrocketed at such a small thing. Well it wasn't exactly small when he's able to alter their words. What else could he do?

He glanced at Dust, who looked nonchalant as always.

He sighed, preparing for a fight. “listen, bud, we don't have any money and we're not going to—”

“Aw, no cheddar? You two should probably return those clothes then.” The overly-cheerfulness of his voice dwindled ever so slightly. Almost like he was threatening them.

He stared at him in befuddlement.

Dust decided he was entirely fed-up with this guy and the familiar growl of a blaster rang out. 

“Not cool,” the colorful skeleton said before getting blasted.

But he was completely unfazed by the attack.

Killer and Dust instinctively backed up even with the current distance between them and that thing.

“That blast gots a huge kick to it, yo. You should be more careful, you could totes hurt someone with that.” The skeleton stood up—he was kneeling behind the counter the entire time.

He thought he was around the same height as he and Dust. But now it was clear he towered over both of them.

“I shoulda introduced myself, huh?” He asked as if he was talking to himself. He shrugged off his mistake. “My b, better late than never.” He adjusted his glasses as his smile widened dangerously. His golden tooth shined brightly despite there being no light for it to reflect. “The name’s Fresh. I take it that you peeps are sanses? The hooded dude packs a ri-donk-ulous punch tho.”

Blue bones rose up and caged Fresh as a half-ring of blasters appeared and fired. The impact of the blasts created a huge cloud of smoke, obscuring their vision.

Killer drew out his knife with a groan. He swore, Dust was so dramatic. He hoped that the dust of Fresh was among the cloud of smoke, but something about his instincts screamed otherwise. He squinted as he looked around. Dust wasn't by his side anymore.

It's gone completely quiet.

“...dust?” he whispered harshly. “where the funk did you go?” Ugh, there went the censoring again.

A hand laid on his shoulder, causing him to jump, but it was only Dust. He sighed and let his head hang back for a second. “you can't just do that!”

“...my bad.”

Wait. He talked!? And to express sorrow out of all things…“uhuh. we gotta put some bells on you or something, jeez.” The hand on his shoulder remained, in fact, the grip seemed to tighten. “you can let go now,” he said, voice laced with annoyance.

He still didn't let go. Was he trembling? His other hand was locked tightly into a fist by his side.

The grip on his knife tightened.

He hasn't known Dust for long, but what he did know was that he wasn't a touchy person.

“i said let go!” He hacked his knife into Dust’s wrist, he didn't put enough force to completely sever a bone but it cut pretty deep.

Dust yanked his hand away in complete silence.

Killer heard footsteps nearby, but there were too many for it to be from just one person.

The smoke finally dissipated.

He was completely surrounded.

There were more skeletons in the store, all of them wore those obnoxious sunglasses with text on them. These weren't just any skeletons, however. He was sure all of them were Sanses. They were stark still when he caught sight of them, like mannequins on display.

“i don’t know what's gotten into you, dust, but you need to snap out of it for once.”

“Oh, I know the answer to that one, broseph,” Fresh said. He adjusted his shades, the text on them saying “IT’S ME”.

Killer put two and two together quickly. All of these Sanses were being controlled by Fresh, and he was adding Dust to the party. Shit, was he going to be next too?!

He brandished his knife wildly like a cornered animal, causing Dust to take a step back. “aw heck no! get the frick away from me!” He couldn't die here, he couldn't even swear properly! He wasn't going to let his last word be a censored f-bomb.

“Don't be like that, homeslice dawg. Join the party, it's the bomb!” Fresh insisted, stretching his arms out to gesture at the still crowd. “Your pal’s waiting for you,” he added grimly.

As if on cue, Dust tackled him to the ground, grabbing his wrist to prevent him from using his knife. He was breathing heavily in a strained fashion.

They were just getting some fucking clothes. They were just going shopping. It was supposed to be a normal excursion, for once. He doesn't even know the next chance they'll have a goddamn break or do something that isn't designed to mentally mess them up even more. Fuck this guy.

He let out a growl as he brought his knees to his chest and kicked Dust off of him. He rolled upright and blindly lunged for Fresh, swinging his knife around like an untrained toddler.

Fresh backed away from every slash. He may hardly look like a Sans but he sure dodged like one.

As the two fought, the crowd surrounded the three, caging them in. Dust hasn't gotten up yet, but random bone attacks of his flung around the makeshift arena.

The exit door flung open, interrupting their fight.

Never in his life did Killer expect to feel relief at seeing that stupid octopus. Horror followed behind him, looking shocked at the sight.

“I told you that I expected you back in three hours!” Nightmare roared. Once he actually registered what was happening, he narrowed his eye in confusion. “Who or what is that thing that assaults my vision?”

“kill it! kill it now!” he shouted with a bit too much desperation.

In an instant, everyone in the building was lifted up by his tentacles and shoved against the walls of the building as Nightmare arose.

Killer thrashed around in vain, “not me too, you idiot!”

“you’d think you'd expect this by now,” Horror, who was held up near him, muttered.

For the first time since they’ve seen him, Fresh frowned. “Bogus, dude! Interruptin’ my meal like that is not cool.”

“meal?!”

Nightmare ignored the two and paid particular attention to Dust. Something was wrong with his soul, his feelings were all muddled. In fact, the other skeletons here with sunglasses on gave off the similar muddled energy. With another tendril he wrenched Dust’s hood off, revealing a huge flower growing in his eye socket.

Killer and Horror gagged.

“what the heck is that?! has that always been there?!” Killer gawked.

“Of course not,” Nightmare grumbled. The same tendril wrapped around the flower as best as it could.

“Oh buddy, I wouldn't do that if I were you,” Fresh said, his glasses spelling “DO NOT”.

“Try me.” He yanked.

The flower snapped off with such a force that threw Dust’s head back.

Nightmare dropped him to inspect the flower, letting him fall to the floor with a loud thud.

Dust’s eyelights sparked on with a gasp that soon turned into a scream as he reached for his eye sockets as if the flower was still there, not even bothering to put his hood back on.

Killer and Horror’s eyes were wide open and their mouths were agape at the display. They’ve never expected to see Dust lose his cool like this. They weren't expecting to see many things that were happening today.

They were just trying to go shopping. How did it turn into this?!

“Shut up, Dust,” Nightmare ordered. As he inspected the flower, his grasp on Fresh tightened.

“Homeslice, I’m sure this hurts. You mind loosening up a bit?” Fresh asked.

He was answered with a smack on the head by another tendril, which knocked his glasses off. Lo and behold there was a similar flower residing inside his skull.

His glasses were like a mask, once they were off his entire facade crumbled away.

“What are you?” Nightmare asked. He tore the flower up with his hands and let the pieces litter the ground.

“That's not your business.” Fresh slipped out of the tentacle’s grasp with ease like it wasn't just strangling him.

The other glasses-wearing skeletons dug and clawed with their hands into the tentacles holding them up.

Dust scrambled upright to get away from him and closer to Nightmare.

Fresh picked up his shades and put them back on. “Now I suggest you bounce on outta here and let me do my thing. Or things are gonna get not so family friendly.”

Nightmare hardly seemed fazed by the damage done to his tentacles, but if this kept up they’ll be able to escape from his grasp. One thing was clear, he wasn't in control of this situation and Fresh did not want him taking the other three out of here.

He moved Killer and Horror closer to himself in defiance. He could leave these three to rot, find others exactly like them, but he just found these three. He didn't want to go through the hassle of wrangling more Sanses so soon. And he was not going to let someone else mooch off of his efforts.

“we're running, right? we’re not fighting this freak,” Killer whispered to him.

Dust looked up at him, almost pleadingly.

If this was any other time, he would've had them fight for his entertainment, but this was not the time, unfortunately.

He put Horror and Killer down. The three of them were absolutely terrified.

If he portaled right now, there was a high chance Fresh would be able to follow them. They had to get some distance first.

He tossed the other skeletons in his grasp across the store and broke the wall behind him.

Dust, Horror, and Killer didn't waste any time sprinting outside of the store through the broken wall.

Nightmare’s tentacles promptly snatched and threw Fresh to the back of the store for good measure before following after the three.

He opened up a portal to the castle ahead. The millisecond the four of them were through the portal snapped closed.

Killer face planted against the grass as if he was hugging the ground.

Horror brushed himself off, seemingly checking for any flowers on his clothes.

Dust had his hands clenched tightly around the edges of his hood as if he’d die if it was ever off again.

All of them felt like utter shit, and for once, Nightmare didn't particularly enjoy that.

He was…unnerved. His knowledge of the multiverse was even more limited than he thought it was. Before that encounter he assumed the only major threats were Ink, Error, and his brother.

There were so many skeletons under this “Fresh’s” control. How far could his influence spread? Could he control him?

He didn't want to think about it.

“Dust,” he said blankly, “Are you…” How did he want to phrase this? He already knew if he was okay or not, he could sense it. “You are completely free of that parasite’s influence, correct?”

Dust gave a weak nod.

At least it seemed reversible, but maybe that was only because of how quickly it was removed. Needless to say, the second they see that freak again they're out of there.

“fuck man, how’d that thing get you?” Killer asked. “you were by my side the whole time.”

Dust just shrugged. Whether he wasn't actually sure or just too tired to explain, he couldn't tell.

“...god dammit!” Killer yelled. “we forgot the clothes. ugh, whatever. at least i have a new hoodie.” He let out a weak laugh. “i survived an encounter against this parasite and all i got was this sixty dollar hoodie.”

Horror glared at Nightmare. “so you don't know about everything. you're not an all-knowing god.”

“I never said I was.”

“so how much do you know? is there anything else like that out there?”

Nightmare paused. Thinking of a thoughtful response. “I am not aware of everything that goes on in the multiverse. That threat we encountered was entirely unfamiliar to me. There may be more. Cease the image of me as an all-knowing god. I might as well know as much as you.”

“hah! you totally could’ve left us, huh?” Killer pointed out. He knows he would’ve.

“It would’ve been a hassle,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“aw, so you do care about us,” he said.

Nightmare was taken aback. He wasn't sure how true or not that was. “Define ‘care’,” he said skeptically.

Killer wasn't expecting that response. “i was joking. people who care for each other don't put them in shitty situations.”

“...I see.” In that case, Nightmare doubted he had the capacity to care for anyone. “Do any of you three care for each other?”

That made Killer burst out into laughter. He looked at Horror and Dust to check if they were as amused as he was at the question.

Horror just looked offended at the question while Dust was unreadable as he typically was.

[mollyjames]

Fascists love art. And that's something that might make you uncomfortable because it's something you probably have in common with fascists, but it's true. Fascists love art the same way they love sports. It is a quantifiable measure of betterment and superiority. They will talk quite knowledgeably about their favorite art; the history, the techniques, the themes... If they're particularly well educated, they might talk about the artist's personal life, and all the ways they exemplify the human experience. It is inspiring to them, much in the same way it might be inspiring to you. For them, art is a world with clear winners and losers. In a word, Objective.

It's also part of why I find the AI art movement fascinating. It operates on much the same parameters as the fascist and caters to their sensibilities, deliberately or not. AI art strives to create a visually pleasing objectively accurate depiction of its subject matter, with as many of the flaws removed as possible. Form and function in one. This is appealing to the fascist (who also loves computers) as it comes with the veneer of Objectivism. This machine has not only demonstrated the correct way to create art, but the art it creates looks a lot like the art they already consider to be objectively superior! How validating. (It does not necessarily occur to them that one hand washes the other.)

Of course in practice, what they are applauding is a laundering machine. And while it benefits the makers of these technologies to tout their potential, that we're only just scratching the surface of what AI is really capable of, it seems we've already hit the limit. After all, we chose the winners in Paris in 1748. If we need to, we can always choose new winners and call it progress. But it's all people.

It's only ever been people.

(I know I will likely get comments along the lines of "fascists don't REALLY love art, all they're really doing is-" etc, etc... And that's understandable and I think you could argue it. However I'm hesitant to say there is a wrong way to look at art. Rather I'd like you to consider that love of something, while wonderful, does not and never will justify evil.)