#it's just interesting is all im trying to say

[ot3]

isn't it interesting how infrequently covid comes up in discussions about the current generation of college students' work habits? pretty much everyone in the current crop of undergraduates was in high school during the quarantine and i can think of few things that would be as academically disillusioning in your formative years and set you up worse to continue your education.

you get ripped out of school at a critical point in your life because hundreds of thousands of people are dying all over the planet, are then left to try and tread water in your studies with the absolute bare minimum structural support, and are then subsequently forced to return with almost nothing to bridge that gap and the underlying knowledge that it actually may not even be safe for you to be attending class. and yet you're expected to just proceed as normal! and thats on top of all of the ways being a high schooler is already brutal and miserable. it is hard to imagine that would not have a significant

the post that prompted me to make this was going on an absolute tirade calling these kids stupid and lazy and accusing them of rotting their own brains with tiktok. they said one kid should be beaten with a bat. obviously i don't think that's an actionable threat im not trying to say theyre genuinely advocating violence against chatgpt users. but what they were genuinely advocating for was a return to analog schooling; no computers are phones in classes, all assignments handwritten. i'm against this for a myriad of accessibility reasons, but moreso than that, i just can not take any proposed solutions in good faith from people who are writing about the people they purportedly want to help with that much spite. i don't believe you actually want to empower people to learn i think you want to punish people for not learning and those are two completely different things.

man. school is fucking hard and like it or not a lot of people ARE there because they need to become employable, not because they want to be doing this. and it's not their fault things are set up in a way that often necessitates taking this path for even a modicum of financial security. i'm not really interested in any discussions of higher ed that are not even capable of extending an ounce of sympathy to those students too.

[erwinsvow]

jack abbot sugar baby!reader, im clawing at the cage of my enclosure, this is so good!!! please i need more

thank you!!!! for some reason that’s what I was thinking about at my sisters graduation all day lmfao. welllll i think this deserves a real fic and after my exams I will write it but i think he realizes that he just really needs a purpose outside of work and when he starts doing all the things he does to help your life move a little smoother and take care of you because there’s no one else to do it and you neglect yourself almost as much as he neglects himself—so it’s kind of like. idk a soothing sort of routine for him. to take care of you and it comes very naturally to him. you have loans and don’t eat as much as you should because you don’t grocery shop as often as you should and you spend all your time studying. so he likes making you meals and sending you money for coffee (he sends $50 and says it’s for your breakfast and you go ? for the whole week?) and then it kind of goes a little further. your shitty laptop stops working after using it non stop for the last eight years or so and one day he just shows up with a new one. there’s squeaky door hinges and your shower pressure is terrible and your window won’t open all the way and then those things are just.. fixed! none of your clothes seem right for this interview you really want to do good at and he just… gives you a card and says to pick out something nice. then maybe a little bit further—rent is paid each month and there’s payments to your loans (the balance, not just the interest) that take you a while to catch onto. when you confront him about it and get kind of weepy because of how nice it is he just brings you in for a hug and kisses your forehead and tilts your chin (MANGO) and says don’t worry about it kid.

the kind of student is up to the reader to decide obvi ill bite & project and say she’s a second year medical student but she can be anything at all. and what he likes about you is that you’re funny just like him, once you stop being nervous. but you never stop being nervous around him (and he likes that a lot too. thinks about bringing you out of your shell and what he can do to make you comfortable around him. and none of those thoughts are in the bible.) likes when you text him throughout his shift of the leftovers from last night that you ate for dinner and what time you go to bed. you’re always up working when he gets home and those two hours before he falls asleep are some of his favorite of the day (maybe because he doesn’t feel like going to the roof when he’s got you waiting for him at home.) he says he’ll help you study after his shift but at 8am you two end up tangled in sheets or fucking on the couch or against the door and then fall asleep right after for a bit. when he wakes up you’re always working or studying but you put your laptop away when he wakes up and he really, really likes that. it’s supposed to be no strings tied, let me take care of you and make you cum so I forget all my own problems type of a thing, and it works for a while. until it doesn’t. surprise surprise you’ve been in love this whole time trying to awkwardly figure out how to tell him and he’s trying to explain himself going i pay for two rents even though you’re always over at my place because i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable and-

[kirietown]

Rag Doll Dance

Pairing: robert “bob” reynolds x f!reader

Summary: the thunderbolts never came; and instead earth’s mightiest hero is entered into a rag doll dance with a psychologist who’d do anything to see valentina squirm.

Content: manipulative reader, seriously reader is a bad person, smut, cream pie, vaginal fingering, unethical reader, thunderbolts spoilers sorta? this is an AU, very minor mention of past drug use

18+

Word Count: 3.4K

a/n: im considering a part two if people show interest!

Valentina’s instructions were clear; do not make physical contact, and do not give him your name. As far as he knew, you were the psychologist, and that was all you would ever be. 

You didn’t anticipate that you’d break rule one by the end of this session, and rule two soon after that.

”Hello Sentry,” you said after you walked into his room and shut the door behind you. The space was warmly lit, under your own suggestion as it would provide him with a sense of calm. Early scans prior during his trial phase suggested that cooler colours tended to act as stressors. The room, his room, although plain in its features provided security with the thought put into its simplistic design. 

He sat up straight upon your greeting, unmasked curiosity graced his features. You took a moment to assess him; plain face, messy brown hair, yet a sense of wonderment that seemed to elevate him. He was nothing special, yet something about him softened you, though only a bit. 

“You can call me Bob,” he said quietly. “Sentry… I don’t think it quite fits yet. What’s your name?” 

You ignore his question. 

“Why do you say that?” You move closer, and took a seat across from him. He stiffened and moved his back more firmly against the headboard of his bed. You noticed the tremor in his fingers, and relaxed your own posture, hoping to ease his nerves. 

You knew his name already, you knew everything about him. You had watched his pre-screening tapes, and followed along with his trial updates. However, to Bob, you were someone new sent to speak to him. 

“Well,” he chuckled and tilted his head sheepishly. “Hearing it sometimes, it feels like someone’s trying to put me into a suit that’s just a little too big around the shoulders.” He spoke softly, though firmly as though you couldn’t convince him otherwise.

You don’t try to.

”Only sometimes?” 

“Other times… I feel on top of the world, and it fits me just right. But right now, I think I’m just… Bob. Who are you?” The question at the end came quickly, and you barely had time to process it before his apologies came out in a flurry. “Or you don’t have to if you don’t want to, I— I’m sorry, I really don’t want to be pushy… I’m no good at these sort of things.” 

You smile tenderly before you reply, “you can just call me the psychologist. It’s what I prefer; it’s like my own superhero title, don’t you think? I can call you Bob if that’s what makes you comfortable. But just know that Sentry fits you just right, at least in my opinion.” 

He blushes, and once again tilted his head at that awkward angle like a child in an old painting. You do your best to hide your satisfaction. 

“So you’re like my shrink?” 

“Psychologist,” you replied.

”Sorry, sorry,” he said. “I told you I’m no good at this.” 

“What is it you’re not good at, Bob?” You said his name carefully, and noticed the shiver it sent down his spine. He was truly an open book, it was endearing in a way, though it didn’t charm you. You were interested in him the way you were interested in playing with rag dolls as a child. Could you force him to dance? Could he learn to make himself uncomfortable for you?

“People,” he said. “I guess I’ve never been too good with that. It’s hard, no one ever really talked to each other in my house growing up. It was always yelling. But I’m guessing you already knew that, didn’t you?” You barely noticed that he moved closer. You held your breath as you realized he now sat at the edge of his bed. His wavy hair obscured the corners of his eyes as he lowered his head down. You knew if you looked down, his feet would be nearly touching yours now. 

You remained still. 

“I did know,” you make sure not to deny the truth. “But I think it’s better to hear it from you than from a file. After all, I’m here to help you.”

”I don’t think I can be helped… I think I’m a lost cause, I’m no good.” He said this with certainty, as though he knew the truth. You pretended you couldn’t see the lights flickering. You pretended you can’t see his hand on his thigh, twitching, fumbling against his pants as though begging to be held. 

“You talk as if you know that to be certain,” you replied. “I don’t think you’re a lost cause; lost, yes, but I think you’ll find your way. You just have to open up, we can figure out who you are together.” You spoke softly, and noted his heavy breathing. He stilled, as though deep in thought before he replied. 

“I’ve hurt people,” he said. “I’m scared it’ll happen again, and I won’t remember any of it.” He wrapped his arms around himself, as if in need of protection. “I don’t know you, but I feel like if I hurt you I wouldn’t be able to live with it.” 

You decide on a new approach, it’s reckless, and you’re thankful Valentina listened to your request to remove any audio or cameras from this room (you double checked with your guy in IT to confirm this). 

“You may just hurt me,” you said. He turned his head up in shock and met your gaze. “But I know what I signed up for. I won’t give up on you out of fear, nor do I care to make false promises about my safety when it’ll be your choice in the end. I’m not here to lie to you Bob, I’m here to support you.” 

His baby blues continued to stare into your own eyes, his pupils impossibly small and it felt as though you were staring into the ocean. Could eyes really be that deep? Was it a result of the trials? Regardless, you chose to go against your own better judgement, and take his hand in yours. 

As the author, I cannot tell you what the void showed you in those brief moments, but I can tell you that you felt a familiar pain, heard a voice from your past, and relived an experience that was most frightening. 

When you were back in the room, you still gripped onto Bob’s hand. Tightly, securely, and rubbed your thumb onto the back of his palm. 

“Like I said,” you spoke calmly, and it was a wonder how you didn’t spill your lunch onto the floor. Your stomach was queasy, your brain a mess from the void. “I’m not going anywhere.” He looked at you, really looked at you for a few moments, as though in shock that you didn’t pull away in disgust or anger. He squeezed your hand as though to make sure you were still there and it wasn’t all in his imagination. 

“You name,” he said. “I heard it.” He whispered it— sounding out the syllables, as though it were a blessing. It left you stunned for a moment, realizing he had seen your worst fear; the deepest part of you. He said your name again, softly, before he collapsed into your arms. His knees hit against the floor, though you suspected he felt no pain. 

You caressed his locks as he wept into your lap, his arms encircled around your waist reminding you of a shackle chaining you to the floor. 

…

Valentina appeared to be quite impressed by the improvements to Bob’s mood since your first session. Over time, as you continued to visit, she noted more focus during his endurance training amongst other aspects related to his powers. She encouraged the sessions turn into a daily occurrence, and you obliged. 

You walked in, only to be smothered in a hug as soon as the door shut behind you. You were taken aback, though unsurprised as you noted his affections had increased over the course of your time with him. It had started as merely reaching out his hand to grasp yours, which you typically didn’t entertain but after a talk with Valentina after you confessed the events of the first session, she encouraged that you explore his limits together. It was strange of her, though at the time you could only nod your head as she was in charge. It infuriated you,— you had the suspicions from the very beginning that this was all some sort of puppet show to her where she could string you along however she liked.

You snapped out of your thoughts as he breathed in the scent of your hair, and held you close to him. “I missed you,” he said. His warm breath fanned across your cheek and sent a shiver down your spine, and much to your shock he held you even tighter. 

You pushed his chest away softly. “I apologize,” you said. “I realized I had to take some of my PTO, so that was why I missed these last three days. I wasn’t able to warn you in advance.” Your words were true, though you had plenty of time to warn him, you chose not to because you wanted to test the level of co-dependency he’d built up.

It was Valentina’s suggestion, unfortunately; upon reading your sessional notes, she realized he harboured some sort of deep attachment to you personally much to your bemusement. What he lacked was control, an anchor able to tie him down and have him committed to Valentina.

It had been the plan all along, and you were young, attractive, and seemingly loyal enough to Valentina to be selected. 

Valentina of course did not share this with you, rather your own sleuthing skills led you to this conclusion. Her plan would backfire eventually, but for now you’d entertain her— as well as yourself. 

“I thought you left me,” he said softly. “I was worried I scared you.” You furrowed your brows in confusion for a moment, until you recalled that your last session with him had ended abruptly. Bob had been in a poor mood, his finger tips had been blackening. You couldn’t be bothered to deal with a potential Void outbreak, not when you were so close to clocking out. You had made some sort of excuse, and left quickly, hoping that no one would have to die that night. 

Luckily— for the world, it seemed Bob had sunk into a state of worry rather than depression in your absence. You mentally cursed yourself for your own selfishness at the realization you could have almost caused a potential apocalypse because you didn’t want to miss the new seasonal premier of your favourite show. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. “My mother… She’s been sick lately.” Your mother was fine, however you knew the concept of a mother in need would trigger his forgiveness far better than any other excuse.

”Is she okay?” He asked worriedly. You felt a twinge of guilt at your own deception, but it quickly disappeared once you realized he’d taken the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist, tenderly, as though you were a couple. 

It annoyed some deep part of you, though you weren’t too sure why. Was it your code of ethics? It wasn’t as though you lived by the rules, in fact your lack of morals was likely why Valentina was so fond of you. 

“She’s fine now,” you finally replied. “I spent most of my time off taking care of her; she’s always been a real fighter.” The lies came out so naturally, you hardly even realized. The truth was you spent your PTO watching re-runs of your favourite shows, and trying to make dinner plans with some of your friends (which kept falling through). 

“You’re amazing,” he said. His hands moved to cup your cheek. You’re stunned, as once again, this was quite a new development. You chose to lean into his touch anyway. 

“You flatter me,” you replied softly. You make sure your lips brush against his palm and you feel him shiver again. He truly was an open book, it was marvellous. 

He stepped back for a moment as though suddenly aware of himself. You feel cold where his hands had been holding you, and you make effort to show sadness on your face at his sudden lack of contact. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes refused to look at you. Instead they’re trained on the floor, his fingers grasped onto the bottom of his pyjama shirt. “I shouldn’t touch you like that… It’s not right, I- I don’t wanna take advantage of you…” 

For a moment you freeze, as it took every cell in your body not to laugh at his words. To you, he was the bird in the cage; vulnerable, and perhaps injured in a sense. Did he not realize? You ignored the way his tone made your heart shrink in itself. You buried the feeling deep inside you as you didn’t want to dwell on the fact that perhaps his continuous insecurities bothered you. He softened you, though you would never admit to that. 

“Are you forgetting I’m the psychologist here?” You said as you took a step forward and placed your palm over his chest. You could feel the hardness of his muscles, and felt your thighs tighten a bit at that sensation. Instead, you focused on the drumming of his heart, it beat so loud you could visibly see your hand quake on his chest. 

“I could hurt you,” he replied. You know he can. You sense the way he held back, his hands pressed into fists at his sides. But you have always been curious, and perhaps that was your worst trait (though you had many). 

“What if I want you to?” Your other hand trailed up his shoulder, finding its way curled into his locks as you gently brought him closer to you. 

Suddenly you were once in the middle of the room, and now against a wall. You hardly had time to react due to the speed and because of the fact his lips were pressed against yours hungrily. Slowly, you regained your senses and kissed back, your tongue snaking into his mouth and swirling against his. Moans escaped your mouth as his hands moved against your body, squeezing your hips and ripping your coat off without any regard. 

In another moment, you found your back pressed against his bed. Your legs dangling over the side, with Bob pressed firmly in between them. You wrapped them tightly around his hips and felt an unmistakable hardness digging into your thighs. 

His lips were still against yours, barely giving you any room to breathe until you felt the cold air of the room reach your chest. He had torn off your bra and shirt completely and moved his mouth to latch onto your nipple. 

You breathed shallowly, gulping as much air as you could. You moved your arm to caress his hair as he continued to toy with your breasts, his mouth on one and his hand on the other. Your senses were distorted, it felt as though he was everywhere and yet nowhere. He moved so quickly, you barely had any time to register that his other hand had found its way under your skirt. He toyed with your clit to which you cried before he plunged into you. His fingers jerking rapidly, sending another cry out of your throat.

”You’re so fucking wet,” he said after he’d removed his mouth from your nipple with a pop. “Fuck,” he continued, laying his head against your chest as he inserted another finger into you. “You’re so tight… How are you so tight?” He asked as though curious, he took his other hand and wrapped it around your chin and forced you to look into his eyes. Your own eyes widened in return, noting the gold accents that obscured the once baby blues. 

You barely had time to acknowledge the change, when he hit a spot deep in you that it caused you to screech embarrassingly loud. You determined that no one outside the room entered because they likely assumed you were being brutally murdered. 

“Please,” you mumbled. His fingers tightened around your chin, staring into your eyes as he hitched his fingers again, hitting that spot repeatedly. More moans tumbled out of your mouth, though it was hard because his hand forced your lips into a pout. You weren’t sure when the tears came, but you could feel the wetness trail down your cheeks. Regardless he didn’t stop he brutalization of your pussy, nor did he look away from you for a moment. 

“I want you to look me in the eyes when you cum,” he said— and you did. You cried silently as you felt the build up in your tummy subside, as the pressure exploded and left a mess all over the sheets. It was only then that he pulled his fingers out, and you watched as he brought them to his lips and sucked. 

You shut your eyes, opening them again at the feeling of rustling fabric. Bob ungracefully removed his shirt and tossed it toward some far corner of the room. You admired the contours of his chest, gliding your fingers over his abs in wonderment at how such a physique could exist. 

He shut his eyes for a moment, taking in the sensation of your hands before he loosened the ties of his pyjama pants and pushed the fabric down alongside his boxers to reveal his cock. You felt your hole clench at the size, unsure if you could take it after his fingers had left you sore. 

Regardless, on instinct your body pushed closer to the edge of the bed. Your legs wrapped tighter as he pushed his cockhead into you. It stung for a moment, and you hissed softly— he paused, and leaned over you. His lips caught yours in a gentle kiss, so very unlike the one before, and slowly shoved himself into you inch by inch. 

“You’re taking me so well,” he said. He propped himself on his elbow to see you. His hair curtained his face, and you leaned up to push it back, the sweat allowing it to stay in place. He pressed his forehead against yours, as he continued to rock into you. Soft moans filled the room from you both as his hips continued to pound into you. 

“I dreamt about this,” he whispered. His speed hurried, and you could tell he was chasing his end. “I swear I’m not a pervert,” he choked. “But I knew I wanted to be inside you since the moment I met you,” you gasped at his words— not at the sentiments, but at the filth of it. It caused you to tighten around his cock, a shudder went through him as he continued to fuck into you faster. 

“Fuck,” he said. “You’re practically sucking me in. You wanted this too, didn’t you? Wanted me to mmm— fill you up like this?” You only moan in reply, feeling that familiar build up in your gut, your end soon approaching once more. 

He quickened his thrusts. “I love you,” he choked out, whimpering against your cheek. You ignore these words, you tell yourself they mean nothing to you. You tell yourself the fuzzy feeling in your chest is from the orgasm fast approaching you. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he babbled continuously. He repeated your name softly, like a prayer before he shifted to grip your hips and lifted your right leg up. The new angle allowed him to plunge deeper into you and you let out a soft moan as you felt your stomach burst. He fucked you through your orgasm aggressively and likely as hard as he could without killing you. 

His own soon approached, you felt his hips still as a sudden flood of liquid filled inside you. Warm, and impossibly full. He laid on top of you for a moment, and you swear he mumbled: “… way better than meth.” 

As you laid underneath his body, his cock still snug inside you, you felt a sense of dread crush your spirit. It was ironic that inside the room he couldn’t leave, that you felt trapped in his arms. Especially as you focused on the ceiling, and noted the black spiralling shadows that danced across the once warm orange accents. 

I’ve made a terrible mistake, you thought to yourself, and as if somehow sensing your hesitancy, you felt Bob pull you impossibly closer. 

[eph3merall]

Okay okay hear me out. I soooo badly need a dealer!chris x reader where he gets jealous and/or possessive. It can be smutty if you’d like but I’d think it’s be funny (and hot who said thatttt) to see a reader who doesn’t like parties and she starts talking to some guy, not realizing he’s flirting with her, and Chris is fumingggg (I tried to leave this kinda vague so you could have more creative control, sorry kinda new at the whole tumblr thing too)

anon i love u. i think i maybe wrote something similar to this b4 but i literally dont know

the ice in your cup clinks with each shake of your hand as you laugh at your friends' words. you've abandoned chris for the night to be with your own friends and group of people, and chris had some stuff do with his clients anyways. you'd rather drop dead than sit through more drug deals and boring conversations, so you wandered off to entertain yourself.

the bright, colorful lights are honestly blinding you a little, and you hate the way everything and everyone is so loud. people are yelling and laughing, and the music feels like it's shaking the deepest parts of you inside your body. you have to strain your ears to hear the words people say to you half the time, and the whole party crowd never interested you.

it was always too rowdy, too much. you remember old friends used to coax you to a random house party to try and warm you up to them, only at the end of the night you're found standing anxiously in a corner and said friends are nowhere to be found.

you tolerate these types of environments after meeting the right people and hanging around the right friend group, and after meeting chris it got easier to come to functions like these without groaning or rolling your eyes just at the word 'party'. it doesn't mean you necessarily like them, but it's not like you'd rather burn alive than attend one for the night.

"god, and he was the cutest," your friend is practically gushing, droning on about how her recent hookup was some cute guy interested in photography. he had the "sweetest smile, loudest laugh, and biggest dick ever". you stared blankly at her, because you did not really need to know the last part.

"some things are good to keep to ourselves, y'know?"

"sure.. you just say that cause you dont get dick."

you roll your eyes and punch her arm, feigning offense. really though, a blush creeps up your face and makes you feel hot in the cheeks and all over your body, scorching coals seemingly getting thrown all over you and making you feel burning hot to the touch.

you don't say anything, because you do get dick. just, from the one person she probably wouldn't expect it from.

"okay, sure. you, you know i don't go around... with guys every night like you," what follows is your friends just scoffing and waving her hand at your face.

"oh, please! im not that bad. god, you should see how many men have rochelle hanging off their shoulder in the span of a day."

you don't need to hear it, honestly. rochelle, or, ro, is a frequent buyer from chris as well. you've seen a fair share of her character and personality, and how much cash she carries in her pockets. she's bitchy and rude, but you feel immediately guilty even thinking that way afterwards. using the word 'bitchy' sounds wrong too, she was just.. incredibly confident.

getting pulled from your thoughts by a tap on your shoulder, a cute guy with black curls is grinning at you. your eyebrows raise and confusion overtakes your features, because no one ever really walks up to you like that, no less a guy. if chris isnt scaring them off, there aren't many special, outstanding physical qualities you have.

before you know it, you're roped into a conversation. whether or not you even wanted to talk to this guy in the first place, he didn't give you much of a choice. he insisted on sharing his name, smooth talking his way into your little bubble with a mention of the necklace adorned around your neck, glimmering gently in the lighting.

you don't see your friend eyeing you a little, rolling her eyes around to search out some people to take shots with. and, not long after you start talking, enthusiastic grins are sent the guy's way. you learn that his name is mason, he's studying law and he has great taste in bands and music in general.

you notice the little things immediately, how his hands keep fidgeting, one shoving inside his pocket or scratching at the back of his neck, occasionally running a hand through his long hair—the action subtly reminding you of chris. what you don't notice, is chris eyeing you down like a hawk from across the room. his eyes are peering over the rim of a beer bottle at you, not at you, but at the guy you're talking to.

he knows that social cues aren't exactly your strong suit. it's like if a stranger were to hug you, you would just brush it off and say they were 'being nice'. it's ridiculous, because the guy in front of you was so obviously into you. who wouldn't be? you're a ball of sunshine, sweet and all smiles. hell, he found himself drawn to you the first time he met you. even after repeatedly telling himself he wouldn't be good for you, it was hard to stay away.

your moods were infectious, just like your laughs. sometimes chris doesn't understand why he has the urge to grin at just your giggle. he hates you a little for it, actually.

his fingers tighten around the neck of the glass bottle, rubbing his thumb around the bumps and indents in the glass to try and calm himself down. his jaw was tight, and every loud sound seemed to fade into a calm background hum.

chris knows that going over there wouldn't really be logical. it's not like the guy's doing anything to you worth fighting him for. you two are just talking. you'll lecture him later if he does, all confused and scolding. why'd you do that? are you like, kidding, chris?

he doesn't recognize the surge of possessiveness in him, lighting up his veins and making him feel wound up—like a jack in the box toy ready to burst open. it's not like he had a right to feel this way, because you two weren't anything more than best friends. his eyes scan the two of you up and down, surprisingly finding himself ignoring the bills that are trying to get shoved into his hand.

you're having a good time talking to this guy. mason is nice, and he enjoys the same things you do. he has great arguments, and even better ideas—not afraid to share them with you either. you think he's just being friendly, missing the brief way his eyes looked you up and down for a second and how his fingers twitched to reach out and touch you.

and then he did, a careful graze against your back that had you freezing up, tense. his hand slot behind your back, gentle on your body yet missing the way you seemed uncomfortable.

and, that's when chris was tumbling through people. shoving bodies aside and missing the swears thrown his way, his only goal right now to reach you. make sure you're okay, and then make sure he doesn't ever touch you again, because with the way your body was wound up like a tight coil he was sure you didn't want him to touch you. he felt hot with anger, rage filling him up—practically fuming.

then, chris' knuckles meets the guys face.

—

hai do we like do we hate im trying to write more ( this req was from like. multiple months ago .... )

@conspiracy-ash @sturniolosfavkayleigh @lvrsturniolo @st7rnioioss @meatballlover10 @ashlishes @ferdzom @55sturn @chriseatingmeoutin4k @unknvhx @mattslolita @chaossturns @slut4brunettes @starclinexo @slvtf0rchr1s @itsmaddielouis @slut4chris888

©eph3merall 2025

[strwberri-milk]

Good morning, Berri. I'm back with another LADS request. You can consider this request a continuation of this: https://www.tumblr.com/strwberri-milk/780182378558767104/good-morning-berri-im-back-with-another-lads May I request: You bring the LADS men to your family's Christmas reunion party held annually at your grandparent's place for the first time. It didn't take long for that one flirtatious cousin to hit on your boyfriend. What happens?

i dont think ive done this before but also, just a heads up these are going to be shorter bc of the fact that youre asking for all of them - please remember that if you want more detailed requests to cap it at three as my rules state.

He won't take it at all. He doesn't respond to any sort of flirtatious comment that is being directed at him, no matter how subtle or overt the comment may be. He makes it very clear that he's only interested in you and nobody else, and just because it's family doesn't mean he's going to be nice. He wants to set down clear boundaries and make sure that nobody thinks he's going to do anything behind your back.

Zayne is the most polite of the group at least. He rebukes any sort of affection with a firm nod and a gentle push in the right direction - physically too, if he must. If they try to touch him or get too close he'll redirect by moving their hand by the wrist or gently pushing against their arm and putting his own around your waist.

At some point it'll just become very awkward for them when Zayne decides to just start giving them a cold stare. They'll say something, call him funny and try to touch his bicep again and everyone's watching because they've been seeing this rejection over and over again. He'll simply tell them that if they try to touch him one more time he'll be leaving because he feels like they're acting highly inappropriate with him. He'll level them with a pointed look and now they're forced to acknowledge their actions.

If they try to deny it then he'll drop it but if they try again then he'll simply ask to leave, the two of you slipping away as Zayne doesn't want to put up with it anymore. If they finally apologise then Zayne is going to make it clear that the apology hasn't made things "okay", avoiding them for the rest of the night in a more pointed manner and making everybody gossip and whisper.

Xavier will just avoid their touches. It doesn't matter how awkward it might be for him to literally jump away from them but he'll do it if he has to. He's already attached to you by the hip so it's not like you're going to be too far away for him to grab at. They'll laugh awkwardly, telling him that they don't bite and that he doesn't need to run away so viscerally. He doesn't bother replying, just turning his attention back to you and keeping close to you.

If they keep trying then he'll just turn and tell them to leave him alone. He isn't interested and he won't ever be interested. That, paired with the death glare he gives them makes it clear that even if Xavier looks passive and chill, there's no way he won't act on a perceived threat to his relationship - which is what they're presenting as. He'll make the message clear by just asking you if the two of you can go home and Xavier won't show up at any future events if they're present.

Rafayel doesn't respond well at all. Similar to Xavier, he has no problem acting out. He's known as difficult for a reason and he will pull out every diva card he needs to. The first statement is flatly ignored, Rafayel looking at them like they're the dirt on his shoes as he asks them what they're trying to do. He isn't a fan of what they're insinuating and he makes it clear, rolling his eyes and treating them unkindly.

He'll maintain a cold attitude throughout the entire event, making it a point of walking away or straight up laughing at them if the statement calls for it. He finds it highly offensive that they think hitting on him in front of you would work on him even if the two of you weren't together. If he gets bored of actively belittling them then he'll start ignoring and making it clear he wants to go home. He's even clingier than usual, and nobody's going to really like him after this event but he doesn't care, citing the flirting as the main reason why he's going to be mean and he has no problem doing so.

Sylus is also quite cold. He'll only humor it once, raising a brow and asking if they think now is really an appropriate time to be making such comments about him. He'll look around pointedly, arm around your waist as he draws attention to them attempting to flirt with a man in a clearly committed relationship. Then, he'll turn to you and say something in your ear while looking at them - it doesn't matter what he said but he'll laugh and you'll smack at his chest. The way he's acting will of course make them think it's about them and have everybody else whispering about it which will definitely ruin their day.

If, somehow, they have the guts to keep flirting with him he'll just tell them to shut up and leave him alone. He doesn't want to hear them talking to him nor have them think he'd even entertain the thought for half a second. His voice is harsh and maybe even a touch cruel but they probably will finally leave him alone afterwards.

Caleb is generally a very friendly guy but any advances that are given to him are just...bounced off if it's family or someone close to you. He doesn't want to be fully rude so he'll just develop selective hearing and ignore anything that he doesn't want to hear. It doesn't matter what they say or how they try to convey it - if they're trying to flirt with him he won't respond. It'll get to a point where they look desperate for his attention, clearly trying to flirt and failing so miserably as he shows them photos of you that he loves for the nth time.

If a stranger/someone not close to you tries to flirt with him all they get in response is a firm "no." No explanation, no other conversation, just a no. He won't say anything to them at all after the fact if it's clear the only intent was to try and get his number or something, making it clear he's in a loving relationship and that he has no want to entertain their advances.

[revlw]

The way I rushed to your requests when I found out they were open😭 your writing made me giggle and kick my feet you are SO talented

Anyways! Can I please request (if it’s okay with you) a Yandere team-up with Chance and Elliot (forsaken)? They’re both head over heels for the reader and so they decide to work together..

Headcanons are fine!! Make sure to drink lots of water and take care of yourself!!

𓏵 LUCKY STRIKE

Yan! PayCheck ( Elliot X Chance ) X Reader

Warning ! : Obsessive behavior , yandere themes , manipulation , possesive dynamics , mild stalking elements , potential gaslighting

Note ! : AAAAAA TYSM !!!! this means a lot to me truly! And I think Im KINDA bad ab headcanons so so its kinda a one shot???….,,,, I HOPE U LIKE IT!!!

Chance notices you first, but not in any dramatic way. He sees the way you hesitate near the fire, uncertain. The way you laugh too quickly when someone jokes, trying to fit in.

He likes that you don’t yet know the game. People like that are interesting. Predictable in some ways—naive—but also capable of surprising him. And Chance loves surprises.

He starts approaching you slowly. Playfully. Nothing alarming.

“You know, you keep standing by that tree like you’re expecting it to save you from a killer.”

You laugh. It’s easy to laugh around him. He makes it easy.

Elliot notices too. Not your laugh, not your smile��your fear. The way your hands tremble just slightly when you hear the killer’s scream. The way you fumble with a generator. The way you linger near others for safety.

He doesn’t say anything to you. He just… starts watching.

At first, he’s near you by accident. Or at least, that’s what it looks like.

You blow a generator? Elliot’s already nearby to cover for you.

Get knocked down? He’s the first to pick you up, silent, efficient.

You thank him. He nods once.

He doesn’t ask for anything in return.

Not yet.

It’s subtle.

Chance starts treating you like a game. Not a cruel one—but a test. A series of probabilities and risks. He bets you small things:

“Want me to boost you to that ledge? Let’s flip for it. But if I win, you owe me a secret.”

“Heads, we take the long way. Tails, we sneak past the killer.”

You laugh, roll your eyes. But you play along. It becomes habit.

He always seems to win, somehow.

Elliot, meanwhile, watches who you talk to. Watches how you smile at certain survivors. Watches when you flinch. He doesn’t say anything when you start trusting Chance more—but he watches him, too.

He starts intervening. Slightly.

That one round when you and Chance are paired together? Elliot joins too. He doesn’t speak, but he’s always just there, between you and a threat. Or between you and Chance.

They begin to notice each other.

At first, Chance thinks Elliot is just… hovering. A protective type. He finds it amusing.

“Silent knight,” he jokes to you once. “Pretty sure he’d throw himself in front of a trap for you.”

You glance at Elliot. He doesn’t deny it. Just tilts his head, quiet. Still watching.

Chance narrows his eyes. It’s not funny anymore.

Elliot doesn’t like how Chance makes you laugh. He doesn’t like how close he stands to you, how his voice drops when you’re alone together.

But Elliot is patient. He doesn’t act on impulse.

He waits. Watches. Calculates.

The Shift.

It’s during a brutal round—Jason, maybe, or c00lkidd. You get separated. Alone, bleeding, hiding behind a rock.

They both find you at the same time.

Chance crouches beside you, all charm, coaxing words:

“Hey, hey, easy. You’re alright. Just a scratch. Let me help, yeah?”

Elliot is silent, but his hands are already pulling out a medkit. His expression is unreadable, his eyes locked on him—not you.

Chance smirks.

“Oh, sure. You can patch her up if you want. I’ll just hold her still.”

The way he says it makes your stomach twist. You smile, nervously. Neither of them does.

They both fix you. Carefully. Silently. But the air between them is sharp.

From that moment, something changes.

They don’t argue anymore. They start working together.

Chance engages you with warmth and wit. Elliot handles logistics—watching your back, offering tools, helping you silently.

You barely get time alone. Not because they’re obvious, but because they’re coordinated.

One distracts while the other circles in. One keeps you smiling, the other keeps you safe.

And slowly, the others fall away.

Survivors avoid you—either pushed out, subtly sabotaged, or scared off. You never notice the pattern.

But soon, it’s just you and them. Always.

Chance manipulates the social side of things. He always has an excuse to talk to you.

“Hey, come with me. Safer in pairs, right?”

He makes you feel like choosing him is your idea.

He studies you like a strategist studies the board—tracking your fears, your preferences, even how fast your heart beats when he leans close.

If you ever question why people avoid you now, he shrugs with a smile.

“Maybe they’re jealous. I mean, you’ve got two of the best keeping you safe. Who wouldn’t be?”

Elliot doesn’t try to win you over with charm. He builds a quiet, unshakable presence in your life.

You fall, he’s there. You’re in danger, he’s already moving. You cry, he passes you a handkerchief without a word.

He starts taking things from you—not objects, but choices.

You don’t need to fix that generator. He already did it.

You don’t need to ask for help. He’s already beside you.

He never pressures you. But he’s always watching. Always waiting.

And over time, you start to rely on him. You trust him.

That’s all he ever wanted.

They talk when you’re not around. Quiet, tense meetings.

“She looked tired today.”

“I’ll handle it. You just keep her entertained.”

They don’t like each other. Not really.

But their shared obsession keeps them in orbit. And if either one of them ever steps out of line, the other is watching.

Because in the end, their goal is the same:

Keep you safe. Keep you close. Keep you theirs.

@revlw 2025

[faunandfloraas]

See on the one hand lee knows been riding hard for gucci for nearly 2 years so im like Go on boy get em, gucci give him the fuckin deal already you dogs but on the other hand I've found a solid 75% of all his gucci fits questionable to ugly so like. UHHHHHHHHH naur?

[fizzyboy]

hey i just read the blot entry for the "Goofball" and i really love the idea! (tho now im curious if other toons can use toon physics to there advantaged. [like say they have to cross a large gap to a building's roof...so they just close there eyes and just Book it to the other side ..all the while resisting the overwhelming urge to look down..and presto there on the other side] ..or if they cant quite do itat the same level as a goofball..) but then i saw this little sentence "Let me tell you, Rodger hates these types." then a thought hit me...wouldn't be funny if Rodger has a particularly persistent Goofball as a nemesis..and the Goofball isn't even harmful or dangerous (in fact it sometimes helps out Rodger's group when they run into each other). it just loves pissing of Rodger using classic gags! (like the classic pie to face or banana peel) and Rodger cant do anything about...he cant even try to strangle the annoying pest because it doesn't even have a neck!. (also while Vee will never say it out loud..she has to admit it is funny seeing this oddly friendly Goofball getting on Rodger's nerves...plus it HAS helped them in the past..so it cant be that bad...despite the fact Rodger paints it as a evil Imp for all the toon gag related torment it subjected him to......also it gives Pebbles a comically large cartoon bone as treat for the puppers..

It's all for the love of the game.

They are one of the very VERY few blots that emit and have their own magic. Said magic influences the area to follow their logic or lack thereof.

Everything adjust to their presence, for better or for worse, as long as their in the area. There is a radius and a limit. The reason Rodger hates them so much is because of said logic and how he just doesn't try to work with it. He's all about efficiency, and that's just not gonna happen with Goofballs.

It's very easy to befriend a Goofball if you just vibe with it, even for humans. They just never stick around if you don't have anything interesting going on.

[torglives]

this is in no way an official (tm) analysis post, but a ramble of my thoughts… i saw someone awhile ago say that the corruption can be a metaphor for some sort of dissociative disorder as a trauma response and i really. am just trapped in that house right now.

like pangi is the most recent and most peculiar case because he didn’t go through any full reset. and yet he experienced all of the symptoms. he did not “start over,” or go onto a second life, or become a new person, but his symptoms happened to him as he was, with all of his personal lived experiences. does what i’m trying to say make sense? and his memory loss wasn’t gradual, either. that’s something really interesting that we don’t really talk about. he more or less knew when he was going to lose his memories, but it was completely sudden. after the death of pedro, if we want to get really specific with it. it was a sudden blockage in his brain, and the memories were almost……. compartmentalized.???

they were not eaten completely, because he gained them back the other day, but just kind of… blocked from his consciousness.

the personality changes. the heightened aggression, the extreme paranoia, “regressing” to who he was “before.” does anyone understand me. acting out, unsure sense of self — in a personal case: not wanting to seem weak or vulnerable. the lingering effects of this on post-corruption pangi, who’s every version of himself he’s ever been. who’s been hit with all of these memories at once.

he had nightmares about the corruption. when he was balancing his options, cure or no cure, he was having actual, violent nightmares. he told aimsey he was scared, and it’s clear that he wasn’t only scared of the corruption but also the cure!!!!!!

one of his main hold-ups about being cured was regaining his previous memories too. can we talk about that also. the corruption was protecting him from his painful, heavy, memories. and he was scared of getting those bad ones back, even if they came with the good ones. he wasn’t sure if he wanted those memories, but knew that the people he cared about wanted him to have them. which is fair to them, because pre-corruption pangi did think that the bad and good memories were in equal parts important.

to go on a tangent: im sure everyone here already knows all of this. but i saw a lot of people be really strange about his behaviour after he was cured and it confused me, because he obviously can’t immediately go back to who he was before. not theories, but just like… frustration that he wasn’t what they wanted him to be. tr/ls pangi didn’t up and dissapear, it’s him who regained all of those memories at once. i’ve seen a couple of people say that he was a dick to lukey for heading off and speaking with pili soon after, but genuinely like. is pili not the only person who gave him a genuine option. despite having his own motives, he did not let them entirely dictate his conversations with pangi. he didn’t approach him with a “it’s what you would’ve wanted,” and i don’t think it’s crazy at all for him to really appreciate that kindness. pangi gets hit with all of these memories at once, and everyone is like "yay, you’re back to normal now!", but "normal" is months of traumatic memories that you were scared to get back. is it not okay to have a complicated relationship with that? or what?

[pukefactory]

hello! i recently got into dream bbq ena and adore all your writing with her. it scracthes my brain so nicely im shakign her around in a jar

i was wondering how you think ena would be with a reader who likes to talk a lot? maybe they like to ramble about their home, things that reminds them of ena or whatever thought that appears in their head. a certified yapper if you will (this isn't meant to be a request, just a silly curiosity if youre willing to indulge me)

•☽────✧˖°˖ OVERABUNDANT WORD VOMIT ˖°˖✧────☾•

★ Summary: A Compilation Of Headcanons Featuring Salesperson ENA X Reader Who Talks A Lot

★ Character(s): Salesperson ENA (ENA: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

☆ ENA does not interrupt you. She catalogues you. Mid-ramble, while you’re passionately explaining the significance of a weird statue back in your hometown (“and it kinda looks like you from the back, I swear!”), ENA leans in, nods once, and chirps: “Interesting. You correlate me to public art. Does this reflect societal placement or aesthetic longing? I’m flattered either way.” She doesn’t understand all of it. She wants to. Meanie, on the other hand, squints. Taps her temple like it’s full of bees. “You talk like you’re auditioning for a friendship contest and flunking the quiet round.” But she never leaves. She stays. Always.

☆ You’ve rambled about your favourite cloud shapes for seven minutes straight. ENA, taking your words with the solemnity of a divine pact, starts pointing out clouds shaped like you. “There. That one resembles your hair curl pattern. Mark it. That’s ‘Talker Type VII.’” You laugh. ENA smiles softly and spins her sales cap backwards, like she’s about to sell you a sunbeam.

☆ Sometimes your chatter overwhelms her. Not in a bad way. Just… Too many words. Too many feelings. You’re talking about your grandma’s cooking and how the smell of burnt sugar reminds you of safety and then of death and then of her, and she gets this faraway look. Her voice lowers. “Ping me in some moments.” She walks off. Breathes. Comes back fifteen minutes later and wraps you in the world’s most complicated hug. Arms askew. Head tilted. “Repeat the part about safety. I want to write it down.”

☆ When you talk about her, ENA listens with one side while pretending not to with the other. Salesperson beams and poses: “Yes, yes, I am devastatingly cool in moonlight! Say more!” Meanie growls: “STOP MAKING ME FEEL ALL…TWINKLY! That’s a violation of workplace boundaries!” You assure her there is no workplace. There is only love. She glitches mid-scoff. Blushes in binary.

☆ You once compared her laugh to the sound of a broken music box mixed with a champagne cork pop. ENA immediately adopted it as her LinkedIn bio. “Broken music box. Champagne cork. Let’s pop off, business darling.” She starts practicing her giggle. Not to impress you—To match your poetry. To deserve it.

☆ Your voice grounds her. That’s the weird part. She expects to be annoyed. She isn’t. You’re babbling about the shapes of shadows or how this dream-sky tastes like mint and wet marble, and she—She lets go. Salesperson chuckles and says: “The ambience you provide is profitably therapeutic.” Meanie mutters: “I could nap in your sentences and forget the Boss exists.”

☆ Sometimes you talk too fast, and she can’t follow. So she starts mimicking you—word for word, tone for tone, like a glitching parrot. “AndthenIsaidnoandtheywerealllikeBOOM—BOOM—andIwas—” “BOOM! And I was! And you were!” You both collapse into giggles. You’re never embarrassed. She never wants you to be. Your joy is the only thing she doesn’t try to “optimize.”

☆ During “quiet” missions, she physically covers your mouth with her clawed hand. “Shh. Hush-hush. There are spies in this hallway. We’ll get audited by existence itself if you keep discussing lentil soup.” But she forgets to let go. You’re talking into her palm. She’s blushing through her hat brim. You whisper: “…I’m still talking about you.”

☆ You speak like your voice is trying to rebuild the world. She stares at you like she’s reading a map of a place she’s never been. Sometimes you ramble just to fill the silence. She knows. And she lets you. Always. Because silence to ENA isn’t absence. It’s danger. It’s static. But your words are anchor codes. They keep her here.

☆ Eventually, ENA starts mimicking your chatter habits. She fumbles at first—“So. Uh. My favourite chair is…also kind of about you. Because it’s broken but still very…very present. I-I don’t mean you’re broken, just—AH—STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT—“ You grin. She frowns. Then smirks. “Fine. We’re both broken. And beautiful. AND obnoxiously talkative. High-five me, noisebox.” She loves every syllable you spill. Even the ones about toothpaste brands and your neighbor’s dog. Especially those.

[dior-luxury]

i recently found your writings and IM IN LOVEEE could i request a childhood friends ace x reader? like them growing up super super close and just slowly realizing that the thoughts plaguing them at night about the other arent so platonic anymore and oh this isnt the little kid i used to play with but someone that i might really wanna go out with. if possible maybe a little suggestive but its okay if youre not comfy with it >:D

Childhood Friends

( ✧ ) ────── childhood stories . fluff - gn!reader .

- [𝐜���.] Ace Trappola

- [𝐩:𝐬] Slow Burn . Friends to Lovers . Childhood Friends . Mutual Pining . Emotional Realization . Suggestive Content (mild—touching, implied desire, kissing, etc.) . Tender Moments . Internal Monologue / Angst-Lite . Fluff with a hint of spice

Note: Hope you enjoy this story anon!! I've gotten back to writing as I usually did~ (*°▽°*). There are also very, very subtle mentions of Ace having subtle freckles (which I head-canon him on) so hopefully your not mad about that!

You and Ace had always been inseparable.

Back in your hometown—far from the twisted mirrors and strange academies—he was just Ace. The kid who used to sneak sweets from the kitchen and share half with you, grinning with sugar on his cheeks. The boy who’d tug at your sleeve, race you down dusty roads, and defend you against schoolyard bullies with that smug, reckless grin only he could pull off without getting smacked.

Your childhood was colored with the rhythm of his laughter, late afternoons sprawled in fields of swaying grass, and fireflies that lit your path home after long days of nothing and everything. You could talk about the stars with him like they belonged to the two of you alone. When you scraped your knee, he was the one who panicked first but patched it up the fastest, his hands clumsy but careful.

Back then, you never questioned the way you leaned into him without thinking. How he'd throw an arm around your shoulders and it just fit. That was just Ace.

Time, though—it plays tricks. You blink and suddenly the summers don’t stretch on forever anymore. Suddenly, he’s a little taller. His voice is deeper. His smirks hit a bit different now, curling at the edges with something heavier. His touches linger just a second longer than they used to.

The weird thing is, it’s not even just him.

Somewhere along the way, your thoughts started tangling, too. You found yourself looking at his hands—not just because they were big and familiar, but because of the way the veins traced up his arms when he stretched. You’d hear his laugh echo behind you in the hallway and feel your stomach twist, like you were on the edge of something you couldn’t name.

You’d wake up at night thinking about how his hoodie smelled after a long day—something warm, just a little like spice and smoke—and wonder what it would be like to be pressed into his chest, not like a joke or a fall, but on purpose.

Those thoughts crept in like fog. Slowly. Silently. And you kept brushing them off. After all, this was Ace. Your best friend. The idiot who once cried because a bee landed on his lunch, who still stole your fries when you weren’t looking and claimed it was “interest.”

But then came NRC. And everything cracked a little wider.

Ace was never one to hide what he was thinking, not from you. But sometimes now, you caught him watching you when he didn’t think you’d notice. Eyes tracking the curve of your smile, the shape of your mouth when you were lost in thought. He’d get quiet in those moments, for just a heartbeat. Not like him at all.

And the way he’d flirt with others? That had always been Ace’s thing—loud, playful, shallow. But lately, those jokes didn’t sit right in your chest. Especially when his eyes flicked to you right after, like he was trying to get a reaction. Like he wanted you to say something.

He leaned against your desk one evening, cocky grin in place, arms crossed like he was just waiting to be challenged. “You know, you’re kinda cute when you get all serious like that.”

You didn’t look up. “If you’re trying to flirt, you should work on your delivery.”

“Who says I’m trying?” he shot back, but the way his voice dipped on that last word, rough and low, sent heat crawling up your spine.

It wasn’t just teasing anymore. Not really.

Then came the moment that changed everything—small, stupid, simple. You had fallen asleep in his bed after a long night of studying. Ace came in late from his dorm duties, saw you curled up there, and didn’t wake you.

Instead, he slid in beside you.

It wasn’t weird at first. You’d crashed together before. But this time, the silence between you was charged. Every brush of his leg against yours felt intentional. His breath was warm on your neck.

You shifted, half-asleep, pressing your back against his chest. And when his arm came around your waist?

He didn’t pull back.

You both pretended to still be asleep when his fingers curled softly against your stomach. Pretended it didn’t mean anything when you sighed and leaned closer, fitting together like muscle memory—but deeper now. Rawer.

And the worst part?

You didn’t want to move.

You didn’t talk about it the next morning.

Ace was already gone when you woke up, and the bed was still warm where he’d been. No smug teasing. No cocky remarks. Just a folded blanket and the ghost of his arm still wrapped around your waist.

But he looked different that day—more reserved. His usual loud presence was still there, but he wasn’t throwing jokes around the same way. His eyes kept flicking to you, quick, like he was trying to solve a puzzle in your face.

You avoided the talk for days. Both of you did. Until it felt like walking around a fire you refused to admit was already burning the floor beneath you.

It wasn’t until a week later, late at night again, that it finally cracked open.

You were both in his dorm, again. Some lame excuse about studying, again. Cards and papers between you on the bed, but no one was really focused. Ace had been unusually quiet, his legs stretched beside you, leaning back on his hands. You could feel his gaze. It had weight now.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, voice low. “Can I ask you something kinda… I dunno, maybe dumb?”

You looked up at him. His eyes met yours and didn’t flinch away this time. “Yeah?”

“Do you ever think about… like, how weird this’s been getting?”

You blinked. “What’s this?”

He ran a hand through his hair and gave that little laugh—the nervous one, the one that only ever came out when he was being too honest for his own comfort.

“You. Me. That night. The way you looked at me this morning when you thought I wasn’t paying attention. It’s like—we’re not kids anymore, y’know? I look at you and it’s just… not the same.”

The words hit harder than they should have. You swallowed.

“I know,” you said quietly. “I’ve been trying not to say anything. Thought maybe I was just imagining it.”

Ace leaned in, elbows on his knees now. “You’re not.”

He let the silence stretch again, eyes dropping to your lips before darting back up. He wasn’t smiling. Not like usual. There was heat in the way he looked at you—raw and wondering and maybe a little afraid.

“I think about you too much,” he said, so quietly you almost didn’t catch it. “Like… not the way I used to. Not just the ‘we’ve-been-best-friends-forever’ kind of way. It’s worse now. Or… better. Depends how you look at it.”

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak.

His voice dipped again, just a little rougher. “You ever think about kissing me?”

Your heart skipped so hard you thought it stopped.

“…Yeah,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper.

That was all it took.

He moved slowly, like he was giving you a chance to pull away. His fingers brushed your jaw, thumb grazing the curve of your cheek as his face came close—close enough to count the freckles on his nose, to feel the warmth of his breath on your skin.

And then his lips were on yours.

It was hesitant at first, unsure—until it wasn’t. His mouth pressed against yours with more pressure, more heat. A little desperate. A little hungry. Like he’d been waiting for this longer than he was willing to admit.

You kissed him back with everything you had.

When you pulled away, breathless and a little dizzy, he rested his forehead against yours. His hand stayed on your cheek, thumb stroking soft circles.

“Well,” he breathed, “that confirms it.”

“Confirms what?” you asked, your voice shaky with leftover adrenaline and something deeper, something softer.

He gave you that grin—real this time, but laced with something sweeter than his usual smirk. “That we’re completely screwed.”

You laughed, and he kissed the sound right off your mouth.

Maybe it was reckless. Maybe it was scary.

But in that moment—with his fingers trailing down your spine and his lips brushing your neck—you knew one thing for sure:

Ace Trappola wasn’t just your childhood friend anymore. He was something else now. Something more. Something yours.

And gods help you, but you wanted all of it.

[moonilit]

I really hope people who sent me asks about Dickkory know that im basically writing my own AU, a canon divergent.

Im not really sticking to canon although i try to build off of itc but because some things about NTT 1980 are clearly of that time (like the assumption American Values are superior to everyone else, and the over exaggeration of kory’s violence, the lack of and surface level exploitation of Tamaranean culture etc) I have changed somethings a little, just a little.

Im interested in Dickkory as a interracial, intercultural couple, and i want to highlight that in my depiction of them. Im not a big fan of “kory went to earth and just stayed there like any regular civilian woman” etc i want her to be a friendly foreigner I want her to be a little out of place, i want her to love earth and for earth to love her and i mean ALL of earth (not just the USA lol) she is still royal no matter how many tragedies that title caused her, Her children are Royal too and in practice should be in the lineup for the throne. And many many things, yes im a big enjoyer of found family and eat up domestic fluff/ angst all the time but in details, i cant help myself from bringing up the politics and trying to explore all dickkory’s difference as a couple from regular couples.

thats just a long way to say, their wedding is not normal and im not doing it as Marv pictured it. So if that what you wanted pull back and Thank you lol

[miwiheroes]

Hey! Im a mileven and I'm trying to analyze byler because it's way more active than the side of the fandom Im at, so I was reading ur post responding to a mileven and you said Mike's face "dropped" when Will mentioned El but thats not actually true because he smiles after

hiiii thats alright tbh i never really saw that as evidence for him feeling disappointed that el was being mentioned ofc, i just think its him feeling really confused. because why would el ever commission a painting where only the party are included and its about dnd and el has never shown an interest?

as for mike's face, his face does seem to drop in that moment, but as you said - yes, he smiles afterwards. his face seems confused at the mention of her is all, im not saying that he's disappointed will is saying these things about her feelings. also we can't ignore that the reason mike looks so happy is because he likes what he hears and not just because he thinks its el's feelings. he wants to be needed - which i don't think is healthy in the mileven relationship. el should be allowed to not need mike - so the real reason mike looks happy is because someone needs him. but the thing is- those feelings aren't el's, they are will's.

also we just can't ignore that shot of mike looking at will in the rearview mirror, im soryr but u can't but that down to platonicness or him looking in love with EL?? hello... uh so i dont think that him dropping his face is because of a disappointment, more of a confusion, and the reason he smiles later on is because he feels needed and thats exactly how he wants to be loved. even though he thinks el feels that way atm, he'll get a shock when its revealed that will had felt that way instead

[cloudedcreams]

Can we have a yandere who fell in love with reader because she was quiet and gave off the air of some sort of elegant princess or something while also being kind (because she'd look out for the people around her without expecting anything in return, and that includes him. And him being the oily haired, awkward, friendless little freak he is couldn't help but latch onto her), but when he starts stalking her/befriends her (or both), he learns that she's actually really fucking talkative and highkey autistic? As in, stims a lot (constantly fiddling with objects, making strange noises, clapping, shaking her head or the classic, flapping her hands) or info-dumping or poor regulation of vocal volume because he finds her at a point where she's relaxed and no longer masking!

And I say "she" or princess", but if you so please, you can definitely make it gender neutral. I just use feminine pronouns because I'm a girl.

I'm hesitant to write this request though since some authors are hesitant to write neurodivergent characters if they have no prior knowledge, so it's okay to ignore this request <3 I completely understand the discomfort of writing something so unfamiliar. Or, you don't necessarily have to diagnose reader with anything, and simply write them off as someone that acts vastly different when they're relaxed and is free from judgement.

If it's not obvious, I'm an autistic mascot🥰 (dubbed by my friend, lol).

I was going to do this anonymous but then I realised that cringe is dead and I've requested for worse things. Shyent represents!!!

Also, is it embarrassing that I made 2 requests in a day? But then again, how many of y'all are making several requests anonymously🤨

But also, I talk too much!! So additionally, hi, you like jazz? (what's your favourite song this month)

...Atp, you should actually just ignore me.

i love hearing people yap like this lowk lit my soul up a bit like this is so cool of you. you’re epic. 😾

my favourite song this month… ‘nope youre too late i already died’. obsessed with it from the moment it was released last month and after his suicide. literally crazy oh my days, i was so heartbroken </3 rip wifi skeleton. ❤️‍🩹 🕊️

cringe doesn’t exist, i have a fucking yandere blog i genuinely do not judge people at all. PLEASEEE never be shy with requests like i promise you i love hearing the amazing ideas people come up with. and when i tell you waaah this one filled me with joy.

i’m all too pleased to write about an autistic character! …i am… also… autistic! 😂 boo! did the autism scare you! 😂

okay that was genuinely so unfunny it feels like an inside joke but it’s not idk what possessed me to write that oh my days yk that trend where people think autism is all cool and silly, yeah.

on a real note, i received my diagnosis years ago and oh lord 🤦🏾‍♀️. living hell. i’ve become a lot more comfortable being myself and i don’t see it as a negative thing at all. gives me an excuse to use my special interest as a reason for excessive merch and i adore info dumping. autism definitely isn’t the ‘funsies’ that a lot of shitty social media pages try to make it seem like, but i could never see it as anything less than a blessing either. <3

anyways ahahshs corny rant im so tired im deadass gonna crash ill try to have this out tmrw. bonne nuit.💝

[ddlcbrainrot]

no one really appreciates the idea of toxic act 2 monisuki

now hold up. this might have just activated my neurons…

when i think of act 2 monika’s and natsuki’s dynamic, two scenes come to mind :

first one is the one after mc chooses the natsuki route, where natsuki faints and monika gives her the protein bar. this to me, was monika trying to look more desirable in front of the player. like she’s telling us “look at me, im helping her out. aren’t i so good? choose me.” without really saying it out loud. and i think this is clear by how cheery she’s being, i’d say it’s borderline condescending. just smiles and gives her the bar, no real concern as to why she passed out. and of course she’s not concerned, she literally changed the game so this would be natsuki’s situation. after all, she’s not real. why should she care?

but let’s think about this from natsuki’s perspective. in her eyes, the only person that does actually sort of help her is monika. who else does she have? act2 mc? he hangs out with her once, and then is forced to spend time with yuri, which in natsuki’s eyes is being betrayed by him. act2 yuri? no comment necessary. monika, in natsuki’s eyes anyway, might be condescending and fake, but in giving her the bar is actually doing something. helping, even if her motive isn’t to help. if we’re going in the toxic yuri route, i wonder if maybe that creates some sort of dependency. or i guess, an one sided connection. in a ‘she’s not especially nice, but she’s not as shitty as the rest, i guess.’ way

the second scene, is a scene where monika isn’t even (physically) present. it’s natsuki’s cry for help to the mc about yuri’s behaviour. this scene sticks out to me because it’s natsuki going completely of script. she actually reacts to the changes monika has made in yuri, and she’s rightfully freaked out, even more so because she doesn’t understand what changed. now, why would i bring this up? because, i don’t know about you, but i’m pretty sure monika would be more than interested in something like one of the lesser, not real characters going off script.

and here’s the most interesting part, the game doesn’t stop her. monika does, after she realises what natsuki’s “poem” is, she forces her way through demanding that the player chooses monika. just monika. so, why would the game not break after a character goes off script? sure, she could argue that it’s already too broken, or something similar. but maybe that wouldn’t be enough to satisfy her curiosity. and that’s where the toxic yuri route would start. monika, interested as to why natsuki was able to bypass the script, pushing her into more and more off script scenarios. seeing how the game reacts. trying to understand what makes her different. but, we need to remember this is act2 monika. she doesn’t see natsuki as a person. yes, she’d find her interesting, but in a ‘studying a peculiar phenomenon’ sort of way. she’s not real in her eyes. she probably views her as an interesting glitch more than anything.

you asked for toxic yuri after all.

[the-impulse-to-love]

EVEN IN FUCKING ARCADIA. (THOUGHTS)

OH. MY. GOD. words cannot properly express what an experience thsi album is. anyways, go my ramblings. um heads up theyre very. raw. from what i usually try to post LMFAO

MY IMMEDIATE THOUGHTS ON A FEW RELISTENS ON ALL THE SONGS!!

1. look to windward

ACTUALLY SUCH A GOOD OPENER. HOLY FUCK. THE WAY THE STRINGS BUILD?? AND THE CHORUS?? IT GOT ME SO HYPED

SLEEP TOKEN AND STRINGS NAME A BETTER COMBO!! more general but i LOVE the way we got more orchestral stuff this album

also i like the um. whatever the fuck instrument is at the start

"halt this eclipse in me" IS SOOSOSO INTERESTING... MOON IMAGERY... TMBTE.... YOU KNOW..............

THE VOICES?? THE AMBIENCE?? WHAT R THEY SAYING

AND THE TRAP BEAT. BWUHHHH SO GOOD

THE SWORD NOISE THE SWORD NOISE IM SOSOS HAPPY THEY PUT MORE SFX AND WHATNOT ON THE ALBUM

THE BIBLICAL IMAGERY DURING THE RAP???? OHHHHHH

"the fate of the fallen, nobody knows where I came from / even I have forgotten / how can I already lose my way like this?" LIKE DAMN OKAY?

the "oh and i used to know myself" REAAALLYYY REMINDS ME OF AQUA REGIA. like the way he sings it with the "oh and iiii am done dancing to alarm bells"

will you guys halt the eclipse??

i lowkey. thought he was saying haunt at first but halt is cool too ig

THE BREAKDOWNNNNNN SOSOOSSOSOSOSO GOOODDDDDD AND THE SCREAMS?? WE GOT SCREAMS ON AN OPENERRRRR

2. emergence

uhh. idk if i have to comment much on this one bc i. already did.

anyways still a banger track but

i do think other songs are becoming my favorites over it

love you gabi rose saxophone solo tho

3. past self

oddly. not as sad as we expected imo LMFAO. reminds me of caramel with the dance-y beat but sad lyrics.

i feel like this is another one more so directed at the fans w the "Apologising for shit that frankly I stopped thinking of years ago"

also the um "Torn apart by the true believers are turned out to be faithless." is SUCH A GOOD LINE. something something if you're a real fan you'd respect boundaries (LIKE. NOT. USING THEIR REAL NAMES...)

new swear word UNLOCKED. i lowkey didnt hear it first time i listened

"If this is real, then I am all up in a frenzy (Hmm-hmm-hmm) / Not like before when I was empty" -> SAY THAT YOU WILL MENTIONED ("you've got me up in a frenzy again"). also the next line being "say that the story we tell is never ending" sounds similar to "say that you will" yk...

4. dangerous

FUCKING. BANGER I LOVE THE BEAT?? like it feels like a warning it fits so well god

knew it was gonna be good from the guitar at the start

"You've got me talking in my sleep / As if you're conquering my dreams / You have awakened what's beneath" three sleep references in the same verse?? woah

I DONT KNOW HOW TO DESCRIBE IT BUT. THAT ONE BEAT THAT ONE BEAT ITS SO CATCHY ITS SO GOOD ITS SO DANCY. i jsut feel like that one dancing kid gif

"Well, I thought I could resist you / But something in me just can't help but insist / To blur thе lines just one last time so" vessel nooo....... don't do it..... no........

the bit at 3:06 kinda sounds like that one part of tmbte

HE SAID THE THING. HE SAID THE THING HE SAID SHOW ME HOW TO DANCE FOREVER AND HE DID IT BEAUTIFULLY.

i do vaguely remember when that was first teased ppl going like "oh i wonder if hes finally met someone good that can show him how to dance forever..." So. Maybe not

5. caramel

i think. there's been enough said about this song already

still a banger tho. love you caramel

6. EVEN IN FUCKING ARCADIA

PEAK PEAK PEAK PEAK PEAK MY FAVORITE SONG ON THE ALBUM ACTUALLY OH MY GOD I GET CHILSL EVERY TIME

I WAS. LOOPING THAT ONE BIT OF THE EMERGENCE B SIDE/THE TEASED MUSIC SHEET MUSIC WHICH IS. THIS SONGS INSTRUMENTAL

I GOT JUMPSCARED BY THE VOCALS AT THE START BC IM USED TO THE INSTRUMENTAL

BUT I LOVED THE MELODY AND I WAS LIKE OKAY I KNOW THIS IS GONNA BE REALLY FUCKIGN GOOD

AND ITS. SOMEHOW STILL AMNAGED TO BLOW MY EXPECTATIONS OUT OF THE WATER

IT RMEINDS ME OF FALL FOR ME IN A GOOD WAY

"Turns out the gods we thought were dyin' were just sharpening their blades" GOES CRAZY WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

"HAVE YOU BEEN WAITING LONG FOR ME??" THE SMILE I LET OUT. HE SAID THE THING

THE SWORD NOISEEEEEEEE AND THE BOW FIRING (?) NOISE

ITS SO NICE TO HEAR THE INSTRUMENTAL IN GOOD QUALITY DHMU

"WHAT GOOD IS ALL THIS TALK OF WINGS WHEN THERE IS NOTHING LEFT ABOVE?" AOOOAWUFUHA WWAFHAWGJSGIU24GY3TR7F8EU9GIDO

IF YOU DONT ASCEND AT 2:30 WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

I ACTUALLY TRANSCENDED INTO A DIFFERENT PLANE. MY JAW FELL TO THE FUCKING FLOOR. OH MY GOD.

"IT SEEMS EVEN IN ARCADIA YOU WALK BESIDE ME STILL." HE SAID THE THING HE SAID THE THING and then followed it up w the "have you been waiting long for me?"

THE SCREAM. THE SCREAM THE SCREAM.

theres not even that much heavy bits but oh my god i genuinly love these sleep token songs

THE CELLO. I WAS LIKE OH MY GOD THAT WAS GOOD. AND THEN THE CELLO. FLOORED ME. SENT ME TO HEAVEN. SNET ME TO SPACE. STRINGED INSTRUMENTS ON SLEEP TOKEN TRACKS I HAVENT HEARD OF YOU SINCE WTBB I MISSED YOU. ACTUALLY SO BEAUTIFUL I ALMOST STARTED TEARING UP (i dont usually do that w songs)

THE AMBIENCE AT THE ENDDD REMINDS ME OF THE AMBIENCE IN TMBTE BUT LIKE. A BIT MORE DISTORTEDDD CUZ LIKEEEE EVEN INARCADIA I AM THERE AAAAAAAAA

AAAAAND IMMEDIATELY ADDED TO S+ TIER

7. provider

close enough welcome back sugar (content wise) idk

THE BEATTTT OUUUGGH

"my lover..." damn

THE LYRIC FLOW IS CRAZY IN THIS ONE

THE ICU LINE TO "I SEE YOU" TICKELD BRAIN GOOD.

"The only good girl in this side of the moon" AHSDHHAWHJFSSEFHSJGK -> "oh maybe make a good girl bad"

"You’re the only game that I like to lose" -> blood sport? ("i made loving you a blood sport i cant win / so lets play")

i did. not hear foxtrot at first im. was this intentional. or are my ears just shit... it sounded like fuck [straight] to me and i had to do a double take

breakdown... ouughg...

"garner you in silk like a spider..." MOTHS.... AS PREY TO SPIDERS?TMBTE REF? like i dont think. being wrapped in silk from a spider is a good thing guys

"even in the daylight, i can give you what i want" is such an INTERESTING CONTRAST from all the moon imagery yk. and the whole "so give me the night" + "the night comes down like heaven" + "the night belongs to you"

what if. sleep pov...

8. damocles

Yeah.

side note but i keep. playing this song and i genuinely think it makes me feel sad so i should. probably not do that as much but its so good :::(

9. gethsemane

Holy. Shit.

The noises at the start??

THE WAY THE NOTES SOUND ALMOST DISTORTED??

listen i know sleep token songs fundamentally are personal. but this is. another level

"you are my harlequin bride, i was your undercover lover" harlequin.... harlequin mentioned....

"you never saw me naked / you never even touched me / except when you were wasted" Jesus. Christ. (Pun not intended)

"but you were trying your best / and that's what i tell the others" auaugfjghdhhhdhfhggcvjjkcbvkcbvcll

"I was tryin' my best, and that's the thing I tell the mirror / I was in love with the thought that we were in love with each other" YEEEEEOOOOOOOWCCCCHHHHHHHHHH. stabbed.

the idea of. self blame in this track is just so. guhh. and trying to excuse the other persons actions even if they hurt you.

THE BREAKDOWN FOR THIS IS SO. GOOD. reminds me of high water with how raw it is

THE SCREAMS TOOOOOO

LIKE. THE CROWD AMBIENCE? I THINK THATS WHAT IT IS?

and then the transition into the latter part of the song is so SMOOTH.

really digging the beats.

also the outro. smooth as FUCK

"I've learned to live beside it, and even though it's over now / I will always be reminded (Reminded, reminded, reminded)" OHHHHHHHH.

other thoughts that relate to past projects but. wont speak on em here

10. infinite baths

Wow

the way it has a similar start to windward....

"infinite baths washing over me at last" reminds me of like. the sort of cleansing he was asking for in atlantic ("flood me like atlantic / bandage up the trenches") so. tpwbyt reverse theory?

"Well, I have fought so long to be here / I am never going back" :::)

sort of a rain/euclid vibe. more so euclid, it has that Hopeful vibe to it

the whole nature being changed metaphor auugughg....

THE WATER AMBIENCE. UGUDFJHKGSFDFDJKHU9POEJSHFJXKL;

the "let me drift" bit kinda reminds me of the tmbte "i dream in phosphorescence"

II WENT CRAZY. I MEAN HE DID THE WHOLE ALBUM BUT LIKE. WOAOOWAOAAW

THE SCREAMS. DUDEEE THE SCREAMS. idk how people made out hte lyrics but thanks

the "halt this eclipse in me" line reprise1!!!! LETS GOOO

"Teeth of God / Blood of man / I will be / What I am" TEETH OF GOD MENTION IN A SONG. WE ACTUALLY WON SO HARD

THE FADEOUT. MOSH PITS R GOING CRAZY W THIS ONE

the fadeout also reminds me of the offering but like. way longer

II... II DUDE.................

and the way it loops perfectly into windward

OK MISC CLOSING THOUGHTS

PEAK FUCKING PEAK BEAUTIFUL ALBUM SOBBING WEEPING CRYING THROWING UP SCREAMING

i wonder whats gonna be on the setlists.

reverse tpwbyt theory. maybe

um i need to. think about feathered host n house veridian more and pattwrns and stuff yeah