#no but seriously that is a literally impossible question to answer

[bowelfly]

Favourite bug and favourite non-bug?

the answer to both questions is my lovely and cool partner to whom i am legally wedded as of last week :]

[kunasthiast]

sunshine

“you ever think about how lucky you are to have me?”

you didn’t even look up from your phone as you continued scrolling, sprawled out like a lazy cat on the living room rug (it’s comfy, okay?), half under a throw blanket.

“literally never,” you replied.

“liar,” your husband sukuna said from the couch, not missing a beat. “you’re lying and the universe knows it.”

he was half-focused on some work file on his tablet. he had his reading glasses low on his nose (which should’ve been illegal) and was wearing one of those loose black tees that hung just right on his arms. it’s like his arms were sculpted for violence and thirst traps. it was offensive, really. all of it.

a few minute passed by and you were still just scrolling on your phone. 

“you been quiet for a whole five minutes, brat. you dying or scheming?” he asked, not even glancing up.

“maybe both,” you said lazily.

that got his attention. he finally glanced at you over the rim of his glasses, flashing that signature i-know-you-want-me smirk. “if you die, i’ll sue god.”

you snorted. “you think god wants beef with you?”

“babe,” he leaned back, stretching — showing just enough abs to ruin your life, “god’s scared of me.”

a beat passed.

then you peeked over the your phone and said casually with a grin, “baby, serious question.”

“oh boy,” he muttered, lowering the tablet a little. “let’s hear it.”

you sat up cross-legged on the rug, head tilted. “every time you look at me, do you think i’m the sun or the moon?”

sukuna didn’t miss a beat. “sun.”

“oh?” you squinted at him. “so you’re saying i’m blinding and too hot to handle?”

“that,” he drawled, “and you’re dramatic, impossible to ignore, and have a dangerous habit of setting shit on fire.”

you laughed, grabbing a throw pillow and tossing it at him. he caught it without looking. “so i’m the sun, huh?”

“absolutely. you wake up and immediately decide to shine in my face whether i’m ready or not.”

“rude,” you huffed. “the correct answer was the world.”

he raised a brow. “mm. nah.”

“excuse me?!”

“you’re not the world,” he said, standing up and walking over to you — towering like the menace he is. “you’re the universe.”

you blinked. “…seriously?”

he crouched in front of you, grin widening. “yup. everything in me, around me, orbits you. even when you’re pissing me off, i still revolve around you, baby.”

you opened your mouth to say something, but your brain short-circuited halfway through. “...that’s so full of yourself.”

“no, you’re full of me,” he shot back instantly, smug and unbothered, and grinning with way too much teeth.

you groaned, shoving him away as he laughed. “you ruin everything, oh my god.”

“you asked,” sukuna laughed, snatching the pillow and smacking you gently with it. “don’t start shit you can’t emotionally recover from.”

“i hate you,” you muttered and flopped back dramatically.

“nah,” he said smugly, grabbing his tablet again. “you love me. you’re the universe, remember?”

a few minutes passed with only the soft clicks of sukuna’s tablet and your scrolling. but of course, peace in this house lasted as long as a soap bubble.

“babe,” sukuna called, not even looking up.

“hmm?”

“you know how planets revolve around stars, right?”

you groaned, already sensing the bullshit brewing. “don’t say it –”

“just saying,” he continued, smug, “i must’ve had some gravity to pull the universe.”

you stared at him. “you’re so full of shit, babe”

he finally looked up, smirking in that god-awful way that made your heart skip and your eyes roll at the same time. “and yet you married me. whose fault is that, brat?”

“definitely mine. i take full accountability for this karmic lesson,” you muttered, hiding your grin behind the throw pillow.

sukuna stood up, stretching his arms — muscles flexing in that unfair, jaw-dropping way — and walked over to you with the audacity of a man who knew he was too hot for his own good. 

“nah, you knew what you were getting into.”

he leaned down and kissed your forehead, then right under your eye, before pulling back just enough to grin at your expression. 

“but since you’re the universe,” he said, “guess that makes me your favorite star.”

“you’re a black hole,” you said flatly.

“damn right,” he said with a wink. “sucks you in and leaves you breathless.”

you choked on a laugh, smacked him with the pillow, and swore to the heavens that this man was a menace wrapped in abs.

“try harder, baby,” sukuna teased. “that weak-ass swing won’t even knock a planet off orbit. and this is planetary alignment,” he winked. again.

“god, i hate you.”

“nah,” he leaned down again, cocky as hell, “you love me. more than the sun. more than the moon.”

he paused, lips twitching. “more than sanity.”

“i’m divorcing you.”

“can’t,” he said, grabbing your hand to try and pull you up from the floor, “you’re obsessed with me.”

you just sighed, making yourself heavier, the ultimate act of petty defiance—still holding his hand.

“that’s what i thought,” he said triumphantly, letting go of your hand. “now get off the floor, we’re ordering takeout and you’re not choosing — i still have PTSD from that vegan sushi you made me try.”

“it was fusion!”

“it was trauma.”

“you are so dramatic—”

“and you,” he cut you off, pointing, “are still the universe. but don’t push it.”

you huffed, dragging yourself up. “you better be getting dessert.”

“only if you promise to orbit back to me tonight.”

“you’re disgusting.”

“you’re obsessed.”

you didn’t deny it.

[neodazed]

EAT AND FEED

Riki has mastered the art of pushing down normal food on his throat and acting like it has the capability of making him full — just like how he mastered the art of closing your bedroom door shut right after and finally feed himself with your help.

Pairing: Vampire! BF Nishimura Riki x Human! GF Reader

Warnings: Feeding, blood drinking, oral (f), messy

WC: Around 1225

vamp! enha masterlist

‘Let me help set the table’ Riki offered your mom politely, when she announced the food is done, finally. She was in awe about how nice Riki was, and also how you are a ‘lazy pig’ opposed to that.

You mouthed at Riki something along the lines of ‘you’ll get this back’, as he speeded up with the table like a perfect little son. Once he finished that, you began to eat dinner with your parents. Their focus was mostly on Riki, asking questions about school, interests, and his own familly. He answered them all with patience, even joked and laughed with them here and there, and to everyone, he seemed completely normal.

Everyone, but you.

Well, it was normal, just in your, own sick way. You now knew how Riki presented himself to the outside world so effortlessly. Saw how he mastered the mockery art of eating.

Showing hunger isn’t hard. Riki is hungry, Oh, so much. What your parents don’t know is that he’s never hungry for the kimbap, the salad, the rice with salmon…

When you all eat, he sits next to you, and grips your thigh, hard, with his free hand. He’s quite literally maping out the spot he’ll latch onto later while still chewing the actual food he’s eating at the moment. You know it doesn’t bring him any satisfiction, you know he doesn’t like it — yet, by the way and enthusiasm he eats with, no one would guess that. Quickly and happily, always making your mom’s chest swell with pride, for being such a good cook and feeding her daughters boyfriend.

Only if she knew Riki was only eating, and never feeding.

The moment the last person swallows their last bite of food, Riki’s grip on your thigh gets impossibly hard. When your mother dismisses his offer of washing the dishes, he stands up from the table so fast his knees knock against the side of the dining table, not so loud, but you know that if it was a regular person, it would hurt for days. For him though, he doesn’t even feel it.

Once your bedroom door got locked, Riki was on you. Pulling you in by your waist, snuggling into the crock of your neck, immediatelly finding his favorite vein on there and licking a big stripe up. You let out a giggle, resting your palms on his broad shoulders.

‘What? Dinner wasn’t enough?’ You teased him with a slight grin, which he only rewarded with a sarcastic snort, and before you knew it, you were laying flat on your back on your sheets. He yanked your shorts down your legs, stopping for a minute.

‘Seriously? No underwear?’ He looked up at you with a smirk.

‘It’s hot!’ You defended yourself, failing.

‘Oh, It is for sure…’

He spread your legs as wide as they could go, so the softest, most sensetive part of your inner thigh was layed out for his mouth nice and clear. There was still a faint mark from when he fed from you almost a month ago, he pressed his nose right on that spot, inhaling and trying his hardest to go on with this in a way that causes you the least possible pain.

But for God’s sake, he was starving.

His hot tongue circled and licked his sweet spot up and down, and even pressed blunt, fully open mouthed kissed there, literally two inches from your heat. He also nipped some bits, preparing your skin for him, for the pain. And you, you were squirming below all of this, his mouth so close to your middle already making you wet, pulsing for any of him. But you always let him do his thing first, always let him cherish the moment of finally getting a taste of what his body needed after being deprived of it for so long.

So, when he bared his fangs and sinked them into the well out-mapped area, you didn’t give sound to your discomfort, you gave sound to your overriding pleasure, knowing the importance of the moment, knowing how you were able to satisfy Riki in the way he might have craved the most.

You basked in that feeling, flooding into the dullness and haziness you always found yourself in. After Riki successfully teared up your skin, he wasted no time as he began to suckle out of it. He lost all of his self control the second your flesh turned iron on his tongue. He moaned at the taste, gripping tighter, biting deeper. In just a few minutes, your head has got dazy, and you became only a body, for him to use, to feed from. He switched between aggressively sucking out your blood and flicking his tongue at you, maybe even poking in the tiny plus hole he created for himself.

When he fed enough to not to die righ there, he took his messy, dirty, blood-soaked muscle and pressed it flat against your wet pussy. You whimpered, a mix of the sting in your thigh and the joy sprinkling inside of you. Now, with his two absolute flavors (your slick and your blood) combined, he went completely, utterly feral. It should be illegal, for someone to be so perfect in every way, selfishly having the richest taste of both of the things he couldn’t live without.

‘Fuck, you’re so perfect f’me. Mine, fuck, all fucking mine…’

His tongue worked even faster, blood stained lips closing around your clit and making you cry out from pleasure. He travelled back to the wound he made, and to a normal person’s biggest horror, he licked a line from right there back to your slick pulsing little hole, and dipped his tongue right back in, with all of the fresh, undiluted, raw blood, fucking into you like there was no tomorrow.

‘This is the dessert I’ve been waiting for’ He mumbled into you.

‘You didn’t even have dinner…’ You huffed out in your fucked out taste.

‘I’m making up for all three meals, baby’ He growled, and to stop himself from biting into the flesh of your cunt, he went back to your thigh to continue feeding, and just started to fuck you with two of his fingers in the meantime. Everything was a freaking mess. His whole mouth was covered in your blood, his chin, and now his hand. Your lap was also dirtied to the end.

His fingers were plunging into you at an inhuman pace, and you could feel your climax approaching.

‘Ah, Riki! Please-I’m…gonna-‘

You warned him because you were well aware of his firm preference of where your cum ended up in these sessions. Hearing your pleading, his mouth instantly enveloped your mound again, but it was still doing the unmistakable motion of eating, so it was almost like he was trying to eat your cunny alive. You tugged on his hair when your orgasm hit you. Your cum flooded his open mouth, mixing with blood, spit, and who know’s what. He drank everything up eagerly.

Riki pulled his head up after the final lick of heaven, and on instict, he grabbed the short he discarded earlier, and pressed it against your wound. He wiped his mouth with the back of his other hand, leaning over you and kissing your forehead.

‘Thank you so much. My perfect little Doll. Always so sweet for me…’

Your vision went black for a few seconds.

[0bunnyia]

congrats on 10 followers!!!! <3 how about “we’re not dating?!” with han x f!reader?

한지성 ─── “We're Not Dating?!“

You and Jisung had been friends for quite some time, but you didn't notice that you both were actually more than friends.

Pair: Han Jisung x F!Reader

— IM SO EPPIEE SOMEONE ASK FOR THIS PROMPT WITH HAN SHSHSH!!! when I first thought of the prompt, han came first into my mind, so I really enjoyed writing this hihi:3 I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it!🤍

⚠️: reader being dense maybe.. well, maybe none. wc: 0,7k

nia’s 10 followers event (send me a number pleaseee t___t)

You and Jisung had been close since what feels like forever, both you and him had seen all of each other's ups and downs. People always said that it's impossible for you guys not to date each other. Jisung had been with you ever since you can remember.

He comforted you when you broke up with your ex, cried with you when you both saw your mark for your exam results, there was no moment without him being there.

The question came casually, you and your roommate Mina were just hanging out together in the living room, the soft hum of the TV in the background. You were watching a movie while waiting for Jisung to buy your dinner.

"So, when are you planning to officially introduce Jisung as your boyfriend to me?"

You blinked, confused written all over your face. "Boyfriend?" You tilted your head. "Yeah? Han Jisung? Your boyfriend??" This time it was Mina's turn to look at you confusingly.

"No, oh gosh no. We're not dating! I don't know where you heard that but—" before you finished your sentence, you heard the sound of the door being unlocked.

"Yo, they didn't have the spaghetti, but I got us some instant noodles instead. It's cheaper" he said while tossing the package to the table. "And you're saying?" Mina looked at you, almost frowning.

"No, wait, listen! Me and Ji are not dating, right Ji?" You turn to Jisung, there you find who you thought was your friend, looking at you with wide eyes. Cheeks puff, he looks like he just heard the most flabbergasted news ever.

"No no no no, what do you mean we're not?!" — "No, what do you mean?! We're not, right?!" And that was the cue for Mina to leave. She rolled her eyes and grabbed the instant noodles, but there was a teasing smile on her lips as she stood up—quickly sliding back to her room.

"Wait, no, slow down. We're not dating?" Jisung asks again. You raised an eyebrow "No?" You spoke up, slowly. Suddenly sounding not sure.

"Are you serious? What?" Jisung paused, his eyes widened "I thought— I mean, you wear my hoodies, you call me at 3 am, I stay at yours a thousands time, I even gave you my chicken wings!"

"I thought that was platonic!"

"Will you ever give your chicken wings to Felix?" — "Well.. if you said it like that..!"

"My point exactly" he leaned back, crossing his arms. "Seriously, what else is left?" — "You never confessed!"

His hands nervously fidgeting with the package of noodles he held. "You.. you really think that when I said and I quote I wanna stay with you until we're both grey, and when I made you a playlist titled you're my favorite person. Did you really think that was platonic?"

You open your mouth, then close it again. Before you finally spoke, "But that can be platonic!?"

He gave you a flat look. "Don't even get me started with all of the track I created for you, did you just listen to hold my hand and thought it was casual?? I literally wrote it for you!"

You blinked. "Oh." Have you really never noticed how he looked at you like that? Or have you just been blind to it all this time?

He sat on the edge of the couch looking unusually serious "Okay.. but, are we really not dating? Cause I honestly thought we were." His voice was steady, afraid to hear your answer.

You hesitated, "I just don't want to assume anything."

"Well I've been flirting with you practically before I even got your name, thought that was a clue."

"You never said anything." You mumbled, going back to all the moments when you thought he was just being friendly. Well, turn out he wasn't.

"Because I thought I didn't need to" he reached out to you slowly "Because every time you would call me at night, tell your coffee order in your sleep, or smiled like that. I thought maybe, this was just us... being us.

He looked down, the weight of the unspoken words hanging between you two. Silence was louder than anything for a while.

"Well, maybe we both were dumb." You spoke up, staring at him. He cracked a smile, "Definitely."

"Well, if you did want to ask me officially, in the correct way.." fingers brushing to his. "I wouldn't say no." He turned his hand and caressed your finger slowly, "I'd like that." He said quietly "Wanna go out? Like actually?"

"Yeah, I would love to." You smiled.

Well, its not how you expected it to be. But it was better late than never.

[lllivia]

I could help you

Ellie Williams x f!reader

Summary: Ellie helps you out 😛

Warnings: smut, non apocalyptic scenario, cocky (slightly loser) Ellie, top!Ellie, bottom!reader, frustrated!reader, NOT proofread

It had only gone four out of the six weeks the doctor had ordered for you to have your cast on - and you were already feeling like you were about to rip it off with your bare hands (which of course was impossible). What luck was it that the one fucking time you felt like skating without a helmet, you had skidded over some tiny little pebble and in an attempt to break your fall - breaking your wrist instead.

It was so hard to do quite literally anything when your dominant hand was all bandaged up, but by far one of the worst things was the masturbation. God, it was so frustrating, it seemed like any little thing could set you off at this point after going so long without a release.

You had tried getting off of course, but it only ended up hurting you more than it giving any sort of measurable pleasure, which only built up the sexual frustration that was at this point running 24/7 through your veins.

-

"Soo what d'you wanna do now?" Ellie smirked up at you from where she sat on the floor, just having beaten you for like the 7th time in the row in street fighter - which she claimed was all because of her pure "talent"x and not because you had a useless hand that couldn't help you make any proper combos.

"I don't know - you tell me, it's not much I can do with this fucked up wrist that doesn't cause me any pain" you sighed and layed back down onto your bed, pissed that the broken bone once again came in your way of doing anything fun.

"Alright.. How about we play some truth or dare?" She chuckled, standing up to sit next to where you lay, immediately getting comfy on the familiar blankets.

"What are you, ten?" You couldn't help but laugh - you hadn't played truth or dare since like early high school. But Ellie only raised her eyebrow at you "Have any better idea ms. "I can't think of anything to do"?"

And ig she was right, there really wasn't anything. "Okay okay you got me" You smiled, never able to resist your best friends pretty face.

"I'll get you to spill all of your deepest and darkest secrets" she wiggled her eyebrows ridiculously as if you didn't already tell eachother basically anything. "So, truth or dare."

You thought for a second - she wouldn't make you do something really stupid, would she?who we're you kidding, she totally would.

"Truth I guess" you answered hesitantly, slightly nervous about what she might ask.

"Umm when was the last time you finished a book" she asked, clearly not having thought as far as to get to the questions.

"Seriously dumbass, you don't have anything better than that?" You laughed and slapped her knee, unbeknownst to you making her grin just with your closeness. "Your turn then.. Truth or dare?"

She shrugged "Dare, obviously. I'm not a wimp" her smirk showing off her white teeth as you playfully hit her again.

"Fine, you have to text the last person you ghosted and tell them you need them" It was your turn to smirk as Ellie's face dropped, both of you knowing exactly who she had to text.

"You asshole! You know it was Dina, I can't just message her now after like 4 months" Ellie grimaced, the memory of when she suddenly stopped texting the girl back now fresh in her mind.

"I didn't say I would play fair" the laugh escaping you sounded down right sinister as you watched the brunette pick up her phone and send the text before slamming it down again on your mattress.

"Your turn, and don't even think I'm gonna play nice now" she had moved closer in the excitement, your bodies almost pressing against each other - which neither of you felt like commenting on. Not wanting to ruin the chance of being so close.

Worried she was going to make you do something absolutely humiliating you couldn't help with going for what you thought was the easy way out again. But oh my were you wrong. "Truth."

"Are you fucking kidding me y/n! You're such a pussy" Ellie groaned before widening her eyes at the perfect question.

"Well it's not in the rules that I can't choose truth two times in a row" you cheesed, pure smugness dripping off your tone.

"When's.. The last time you jacked off?" She smirked proudly, enjoying the embarrassment that quickly embraced your face.

"What the actual fuck Ellie, you creep!" You gaped, once again punching her leg.

"Ow - Well, you have to say it. It's the rules!" Your best friend laughed loudly while throwing her head back. She had for sure gotten the reaction she wanted after her last dare.

You thought about it for a moment before rolling your eyes "ok fine.. I guess about like 4 weeks ago" looking away your cheeks started burning hot, there was definitely some kind of unspoken boundary that just got crossed. "But it's only because of this stupid useless hand that I can't fucking get off!"

Well shit, you had definitely said too much now.

It was Ellie's time to gape now, her mind starting to race at the simple sentence.

All she could think of doing was licking her cracked lips and blushing before thinking of something to say. "I could.. Help you? Yk.. If you want."

You almost laughed straight in her face. There was no way she was being serious right now, what the hell did she mean by helping you?

"..What?" Your almost squeeky voice sounded out, unable to stop the warmth pooling into your lower belly at the situation that was happening right in front of you.

"I could get you off" her body was fully turned towards you now, she couldn't even believe herself for being so bold. God, she hoped this wouldn't ruin the perfect relationship you already had.

"Okay" you answered breathely, you legs unknowingly starting to rub against each other slightly - something that didn't go unnoticed by Ellie.

"Okay?" Waiting to confirm what she thought she just heard, she could almost feel herself twitching in anticipation.

"Okay" you laughed breathily, what was happening right now.

Ellie didn't waste any more time, and practically jumped your bones on the spot. She didn't waste any time on formalities and crawled down your body until she reached your pajama pants.

"You're so pretty" she looked up and smirked "but you'd be prettier without these" she plucked at the band of your pants before letting it snap back into place.

"You're so fucking corny" you rolled your eyes playfully, ignoring the fact that you were basically already dripping in arousal.

"Whatever you say" her eyes never leaving you as she slid the pants down your smooth skin, however many times she had seen you change could never compare with the feeling that embraced her now while actually being the one stripping you down.

All that was left on your lower body now was your underwear, which Ellie felt the strange want to rip off with her teeth - oh how many times she had imagined you under her like this. Restraining from the action she looked up at you once again as to double check that what she was doing was alright, before finally removing your panties in a haste.

She stopped to stare for a second, taking in your beauty in case this was the one and only time she would ever do this. "You're so pretty baby, might have to break your wrist more often" You rolled your eyes playfully - even when you were basically trying to hump her face and whimpering in need.

"C'mon Ellie - just fuck me already" you breathed as she took her time viewing and kissing your thighs.

"Alright alright, no need to beg baby. I'm right here, I'll help you."

And she finally did. Her tongue gleefully licking through your already soaked folds as she held you down while you writhed. "God, you taste so good" she moaned, using two fingers to rub up and down your pussy - enjoying the slick that quickly covered her digits.

But as much as she was enjoying the look of pure need and desperation in your eyes while she slowly teased you, she couldn't hold on for long before she pushed the two already lubed up fingers into you.

You immediately squeezed around her and gasped, fuck, no warning? But the slight sting from the stretch dissipated almost immediately as she started curling her fingers into you, her tongue simultaneously tracing figure 8s on your throbbing clit.

"S-shit Ellie!" Wow, you hadn't noticed how much you needed this until it was actually happening. And the fact that it was Ellie - your literal best friend and crush, that leading you towards your forthcoming orgasm was reeling you closer and closer to the edge faster than you had ever managed to do with your own fingers.

"Huh, you like that?" Her pace never slowed before she decided it was time to add a third finger, loving the feeling of you squeezing around her.

"Yes, yes! I needed this so bad" your high pitched voice sounded out while you painted for air, aggressively using your one good hand to grab onto Ellie's hair and pushing her closer to you - not even noticing as she whimpered slightly at the feeling.

"You gonna come? I mean shit, y/n, I can literally feel the way you're suffocating my fingers" She chuckled and sped up a bit as she talked.

"Mhm - yeah I'm gonna come" it seemed like the only thing in the world that was real was Ellie as she flicked her tongue one last teasing time against you.

A pleasure better than you'd ever felt crashed down all at once, almost drowning you. The warmth of Ellie's tongue never disappeared while your orgasm lasted, the girl on top of you never letting up until you were a twitching mess against her, weakly trying to push her away while whimpering lowly.

When you finally felt as though you could speak again you looked over at her already staring form, her face having a tiny blushing smile adorned all over it as she looked at you.

"Was that good?" Even after she had made you experience the most jaw dropping experience of your life she still had the nerve to ask such a stupid question.

"Yes dumbass, that was literally the best orgasm I've ever had" you grinned and layed back, closing your eyes - if you could just stay in this moment forever you would, resting as Ellie hummed and traced tiny hearts onto your bare stomach.

Well, that was so much better than playing some stupid video game.

-

a/n: I'm writing this at 1 in the morning so excuse if it's a bit wonky - ALSO SEND REQUESTS PLS, I'M OUT OF CREATIVITY 😪🙏

MAIN MASTERLIST

[prettycottonmouthlamia]

Before I end up making that post I want to talk about briefly with the release of IS5 again, the concept of each IS havin a fundamental theme of unreality to them. I really like this, because it feels like in a pretty unsubtle way a solid way to ground the structure of a roguelike setting into what is normally a pretty grounded storyline.

IS1, Ceobe's Fungimist (please Hypergryph let it return), is a hallucination caused be Ceobe eating weird forest mushrooms. Nothing that happens in IS1 is real, explicitly. However, IS1 is fundamentally drawing from something, and in Ceobe's case, it seems to be drawing from her memories of traveling abroad Terra looking for the origins of her axe (and food, of course). What are things Ceobe's remembers happening to her, what are hallucinations filing in the gaps, and what are Ceobe catching glimpses of fundamental truths of the world (the Black Procession and the Feranmut skeleton that is Maybe? Lifebone for instance) is left extremely vague. Characters such as the Frozen Monstrosity do seem to genuinely exist, but there was no Frozen Monstrosity in Lungmen. Was Ceobe using something she herself experienced in place of Frostnova, or is Ceobe hallucinating the entire thing regardless? Who knows. Ceobe probably doesn't have the answers for you.

IS2 has explicit themes of madness and deception, and although I do not find him a particularly compelling character or plot device, a playwright who can literally warp reality with his plays. Much of the stage design recycles echoes the stage design from IS1, almost as if the Troupe is welcoming you, the player, onto their stage. You aren't here to discern the truth behind the Troupe, you're here to save one man, and while you are able to peel back the curtains somewhat, you never really do learn what the Troupe is. There are puppets who come to life and whose music damages your souls, there are actors driven so fully into their roles that they end up traveling to Sami to carry out their destined end, there's a Troupe Leader whose defining imagery is puppets and strings, and yet, you're no closer to finding out how this all happened than you are trying to explain why the Knights' Duel node exists.

IS3 asks the question "What if time is like evolution?" and presents its unreality in the form of a sprawling, massive bundle of alternative timelines to your own. It feels almost impossible to line up most of the events and memory mappings and endings on top of each other, and even the endings seemingly branch off into several versions of themselves. While, for example, the Irene encounter maps onto her own memory mapping story, we never see the timeline involving Lumen's memory mapping in the game at all. There is no Seaborn version of Gladiia in-game for you to fight. This is made seemingly all the more uncanny by the fact that there is actually a canon timeline going on, and the implication through the Bosky event that you are only seeing these alternative timelines because curiosity got the better of you. You came into contact with technology alien and yet familiar, and as a result, your good little timeline where you just save a girl who tries to commit identity death turns into you having to watch from the third person a version of the world where you and Mizuki are potentially the only intelligent life left on Terra for all eternity.

(No seriously, this ending is fucked up, what the fuck.)

IS4, on the other hand, gives us a reality that is unraveling, so fragile and malleable that you can cause things to manifest out of sheer force of will, something there are explicit warnings about not doing. It's a land where the living become the shambling, almost mechanical dead, and the mechanical being living creatures. It's a world where the abyss looks back at you, and finds you to be worth destroying. Gravity isn't right, time isn't right, language isn't right, snow falls black and the dead rise once again to beckon you home. There's nightmares in the shadows, and they're eating away at everything.

Sorry shit I got dark there. IS5 is Nymph's happy little storytime where she explores future and alternative versions of Kazdel through the imagination of her and her compatriots. What if Theresis and Theresa worked together and Nasti completed her designs (and maybe committed a genocide????) and Kazdel was a flying utopia city? What if the Teekaz all walked in a different direction and became the Sankta, or all became the Anasa? You know, sometimes you lose your sense of reality and become dependent on the visions you see from the Revenants, sometimes you need a little bunny to pull you out, and sometimes those Revenants might have actually caused a new reality to exist but haha, don't worry about that.

What if, hahaha, just saying what if, there was a version of Amiya in a world where the Sarkaz barely exist, where she was given the crown by a dying Theresa with no guidance on how to use it ethically? Haha I mean, what if Kal'tsit wasn't around? What if, just theoretically, there was a version of Amiya for whom the most formative person in her life was the decaying mind of a man stuck as an AI program who kept his people alive for 10,000 years? What if, hehehehe you know, what if, there were special endings you got for each of the stories you told where you went onto fight her, showing up closing up those stories, those worlds, to eternally protect them until she can find the answer to all troubles? What if the Sarkaz prophecy from Chapter 7 kept coming up, over and over again, the prophecy of an Amiya who would melt millions of lives into memories over and over again? What if this was an Amiya so immediately dangerous that the Sankta version of Buldrokkas'tee doesn't hesitate in trying to kill her?

I mean that would be a really scary story if it was true. Really it's Nymph's special storytime with the revenants. Don't worry about it.

Anyways I love pretty much each of these takes (IS2 is definitely the weakest though) and it shows a lot of thought from the storywriters about how they wanted to integrate a roguelike mode into their game.

[luvvixu]

how to tame your boyfriend

content: bf!gojo, mentioned of sex and sexual stuffs, 16+, fluff, drabble, does not contain any smut, i think gojo's like this can't blame me

wanna know how to tame your annoying (and horny) boyfriend when your flight is delayed?

that's very easy. just buy him some lego and he would go on instant mute.

"i can't believe you really bought satoru—a full 27 years old ass man—a set of legos?" your friend from the other line, shoko, wheeze and at the same time confused for your action to tame your boyfriend.

sighing hardly while massaging your temple, you answered. "i had to, sho. he won't stop bothering me to have a quickie since our flight was delayed and he was bored."

your flight overseas was delayed for three hours because of some maintenance needed to be checked in the aircraft. now, satoru thought it is a good idea to spend those three hours having a passionate fornication.

of course you immediately dislike the idea even though you are tempted too. you value your morals, ethics, and dignity. unlike your boyfriend, he has no shame and would even proudly tell some random people that you are his by some marks solely created.

"could've played with his phone but seriously, why lego?" shoko was still laughing, now that you opened your camera and showed her your boyfriend who's literally sitting on the airport floor with bricks of lego on his hands.

satoru looked so focused and unbothered, which is an extremely good thing—like he couldn't stop whispers in your ears, whining about how needy he is right now and how badly he wanted you. but now he's occupied, it is the greatest relief for you.

"first, his phone is dead and was tempt to buy a new fucking phone just because he said charging using a power bank takes a lot of time. had to smack the shit outta him and force him to get out of the apple store."

yep, the idiot forgot to charge his phone before you left for the airport. now his phone is dead, the desire to buy a new one instead of waiting for his phone to be charged in a powerbank is crazy. although, money is not a problem for the head of the gojo clan—he got figures that cost more, more, more than your annual salary.

"second, lego made him focused and entertained on building it, not for having scandalous sex with me. i feel like he's being my child than being my boyfriend at this moment." you joked, lowering your voice so your big baby wouldn't hear you.

"you said it yourself that satoru is a full package." shoko rolled her eyes, but she's not wrong tho. satoru is everything, he could easily afford things and could even make some things impossible to possible.

"touché."

shoko let out a laugh. "anyway, gotta go now. got a client in an hour so bye my boo, mwa!" sending also a virtual flying kiss to your platonic friend, you both bid a farewell to with sweet smile on your faces.

as you ended the call, you turned your attention to your boyfriend who's now almost done on his lego that he's been occupying himself for like an hour now.

you made to take some photo of him and post it on your close friends in instagram because this scene of your boyfriend is literally a wholesome and definitely iconic. satoru glanced at you when he heard you giggle at some adorable shots of your boyfriend.

"what are you laughing at?" your boyfriend glanced up to you, confused and warily.

you shook your head, holding your laughter to not raise any suspicion. "nothing babe, just focus on fishing your lego instead of other things."

satoru showed you the figure "oh but i'm finished and we still have like an hour before our flight…" he paused. your mouth hangs wide, questioning about how the hell he builds almost five hundred tiny pieces in just an hour?! truly your boyfriend was really something but this is wild.

"how did you—"

"can we have a quickie now?" satoru smiles sheepishly.

your face turns more sour at his shameless request. although you understand that satoru is a man in need, but his neediness sometimes is really out of place and it took a lot of effort just to stop him from doing so.

"no, satoru. instead, we're going to have a quickie stop at the lego shop to buy you some more entertainment."

your boyfriend pouted at your answer like a hurdled puppy. "but i'm enjoying it more when i'm inside you."

that completely took you off guard.

"... tempting but no."

©luvvixu2023

[r-memberme]

Dusty tomes and worm love | k.m

⎯⎯“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

warings: talk of worms and bad humor, fluff

Klaus sat hunched over one of the tables in the library, a delightful mess of ancient texts, weathered maps, and various bottles of strange concoctions strewn about, each telling a tale of power and mystery.

The warm, flickering glow of candlelight danced across his chiseled features, casting playful shadows that accentuated the sharp lines of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze. His dark hair fell into loose waves, often obscuring his vivid blue eyes as he focused intently on the pages before him. Every now and then, he would absently brush his hair back, revealing the gaze of a man lost deep in thought—dangerously charming and utterly distracting.

You occupied the seat across from him, pretending to be engrossed in your book, flipping through pages of text while your mind wandered to the tall, brooding figure before you. It was impossible to ignore the way his lips would purse when he was deep in concentration, or how his eyebrows would knit together, giving him an adorably grumpy look. The sight sparked a flutter in your stomach, making it hard to focus on anything but the irresistible pull he had over you.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, during which you feigned intent interest in your book, you decided to break the tranquility with your own particular brand of absurdity. “Hey, Klaus?” you said, a hint of mischief in your tone.

“Hmm?” he responded, not looking up from his ancient texts, his fingers deftly scrolling through a particularly dense passage.

You closed your book and leaned forward, resting your chin in your hands with a playful grin. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

He blinked, finally turning his head to meet your gaze, brows raised in incredulity. “A worm?”

“Yes,” you insisted seriously, fighting back laughter. “What if, by some stroke of magical misfortune, I turned into a worm? Would you still love me?”

Klaus leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest, the smirk that spread across his lips both amused and incredulous. “You must be the most peculiar person I know. How do you even come up with this nonsense?”

“Just answer the question, lord of the brooding shadows!” you declared playfully, a grin creeping across your face.

He sighed dramatically, adopting an exaggerated expression of contemplation, before replying, “Fine. Yes, I would still love you. I’d carry you around in an ornate little terrarium filled with the finest soil and the most delicate plants. Perhaps I’d even name you Wiggles.”

You burst into laughter, nearly snorting as you imagined the mighty Klaus Mikaelson, vampire original, caring for a tiny worm named Wiggles. “Wiggles? Really? That’s the best you could come up with?”

“What’s wrong with Wiggles? It’s fitting,” he shot back, unable to hide his amusement as he shrugged nonchalantly. “I’d keep you safe from marauding birds and other nefarious threats. You’d be the happiest worm in all the realms.”

You couldn’t help but admire the sweetness behind his words, your heart fluttering. “That’s… surprisingly sweet. Who knew the great Klaus Mikaelson had a soft spot for cute little worms?”

Klaus raised an eyebrow, adopting a mock-offended posture. “Well, yes. You are my girl—worm or not. Even in your most revolting form, my affection remains unwavering.”

Your heart did a little somersault at that declaration, but you tried to maintain a serious facade. “That’s very noble of you. But I have to say, if the roles were reversed, I definitely wouldn’t love you if you were a worm.”

His jaw dropped, shock painted across his face as if you had just betrayed some sacred pact. “What? Are you serious? How could you possibly say that? I thought we had something special!”

“Worms are just… disgusting,” you replied, wrinkling your nose dramatically. “Slithering around in dirt? No, thank you.”

“You literally just asked me to pledge eternal love to Wiggly-You!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation, unable to keep the laughter from escaping his lips.

You shrugged with mock innocence, trying to give off an air of nonchalance. “Yeah, but that’s different! I’d be an adorable worm. Cute and squishy!”

Klaus groaned, leaning forward with exaggerated defeat, resting his head dramatically on the table. “Unbelievable. This is the gratitude I get for indulging your weird hypothetical scenarios? You’re impossible!”

“Oh come on, don’t take it personally!” you crooned, reaching across the table to pat his hand affectionately. “I’d totally make sure you had a comfy patch of dirt to live in, and maybe I’d even sprinkle some fancy nutrients for you.”

He lifted his head just enough to glare at you, although the smile tugging at the corners of his lips revealed his amusement. “You’re pushing your luck, you know. I’m lucky to even be entertained by such ridiculous conversations, yet here I am, exploring the depths of worm love with you!”

You leaned back in your chair, laughing harder now, the warmth in your heart spreading as you watched him struggle to maintain his mock annoyance. “What can I say? You’re a patient man, my love. A true philosopher of worm love.”

“Patient? A philosopher?” He chuckled, shaking his head incredulously. “You’ve completely lost it. I don’t know whether I should be offended or entertained by your absurdity.”

“Both, I think!” you declared triumphantly, reveling in your victory—little victories came often with Klaus but were never without their playful jabs.

“And just when I thought we had established a mutual respect for each other,” he said, feigning a dramatic sigh, “here you are, reducing our bond to this worm-based madness.”

“Well, if your ego can handle it, I’m glad to provide you with a little humility!” You could barely contain your giggles, and in that moment, the heavy demands of the supernatural world outside faded, leaving just the two of you and your silly banter.

Klaus shook his head with an amused snort, finally surrendering to the infectious laughter that filled the air. “You’re lucky I care for you, even if you choose to belittle me.”

“Clearly,” you smirked, your eyes sparkling with delight. “Without my charm to keep you grounded, you’d be lost wandering aimlessly through that pile of dusty tomes.”

“Dusty tomes and worm love,” he mused, shaking his head slowly as if trying to comprehend your train of thought. “What has my life come to? But I suppose if I do get turned into a worm, I’d want you by my side, making sure I lived the happiest worm life possible.”

“Exactly,” you said with a triumphant tone. “I’d be the best worm companion, guiding your slimy self through adventures of soil and bone—optimizing your encounters with different varieties of delicious dirt and avoiding predatory birds like a pro.”

“Did you just refer to me as a ‘slimy self’?” Klaus asked, raising an eyebrow with mischievous glint in his eyes. “How dare you insult me with such revolting terminology! I demand reparations!”

You grinned broadly, reveling in the lightheartedness of the moment. “In that case, Klaus, I shall ensure you have only the finest organic soil, complete with a gentle breeze before the sun sets. The magic of your worm life will be second to none!”

He laughed softly, shaking his head in disbelief but with undeniable affection. “What am I even doing with you? This absurdity—yet somehow I find it endearing. It’s infuriating how you wrangle me into these nonsensical debates, worm or not.”

“Ah, my dearest Klaus,” you replied, leaning in closer, “embrace the madness! For in the realm of the bizarre, we often discover the beauty of life—and love.”

“Your endless jabbering may just turn me into a fly in my next life out of sheer annoyance,” he mused, a sparkle radiating in his eyes.

You laughed together, the bonds of camaraderie deepening amidst the laughter and playful barbs, knowing that in this moment of absurdity, the foundation of deeper feelings was being laid—one sweet hypothetical at a time. The world outside, filled with dangers and darkness, faded away, leaving behind two unlikely companions exploring the intricacies of love, life, and, of course, worms.

this was so fun to write. i giggled the whole way trough the writing process.

hope you enjoy it as much as i do!

[sanesaviour]

Capture of Solarion

little bit of lore:

After Solarion is chased on and off by Taskamster for several weeks, his(hers) paranoia and mental health hit rock bottom and one night, during battle, in order to protect himself, Solarion begins to use his fire powers on a grand scale and loses control, ending in massive fire in the center of city… the injured Taskmaster is captured by agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Spidey’s team is ordered to stop Solarion, but when he regains his control back, he escapes…

He is nowhere to be seen for few days, but then he returns back to saving city (bc it’s his only purpose in life at the moment) and is surprised when he finds out that Spidey’s team is still after him (they tell him that Fury just want to talk to him, which he don’t believe obvi). He avoids them or runs away few times, but in the end they still meet in battle (5 against one, damn, you can imagine the amount of offensive jokes he makes about it). He doesn’t use his fire powers during fight, but only his speed, agility and bit of martial arts he knows, as he’s still shaken up from the previous incident involving fire… he is actually trying not to defeat them (which would be impossible anyway) but waiting for the opportunity to escape again.

After while of friendly like fighting (since they used to have ok relationship with Solarion before incident, so they don’t really want to hurt each other, they just want him to cooperate) and spidey’s puns, like: “This conversation is getting blazing hot!”, “let’s not fuel the argument.”, “I’d make another pun, but I don’t wanna burn out-.”, he asks Solarion: “but seriously what is with that fire powers of yours? I knew you were bit hot-headed when you get mad, but I didn’t mean it literally.” After more questions like this from others, he is pissed and serious fight begins, which quickly escalates to him kicking White Tiger into the stomach, which others consider as really bad since they think he’s man who just hit a woman (they are very protective of Ava)…

Nova rushes to help White Tiger, while others realize that things won’t go the good way and only way to bring Solarion to Nick is to chain him up. They use combo attacks on him and while he’s dodging Powerman’s attack, Iron Fist charges at him and knocks him to the ground. They handcuff him and bring him to S.H.I.E.L.D. base. Fury then gives him foreword about how he had chance to join the Shield (no one on the team knew that except spidey) and none of it would have happened, responsibility, discipline, blah, blah, blah… when spidey asks what will happen to him next, as he is little worried about him, Fury just replies that Shield will take care of him…

The last thing Fury orders team to do is to unmask him, which Solarion immediately disagrees with… Ava volunteers for this task as her revenge on him… as she holds his mask ready to snatch it off he says with bit annoyed voice: “don’t enjoy this too much…” she answers: “this is what you get for hitting woman buddy-“ when she takes off his mask everyone is shocked by Solarion’s true identity… none of them even thought that Solarion could be womam. Solarion’s nose is still bleeding from when Iron fist hit him during fight… she stares to side for moment, then she looks at them and breaks the silence: “interesting how the tables turned”

After this, she is taken away by shield’s agents and Spidey’s team don’t see her for while.

.

Yippie I finished writing this after two hours, now I can get some sleep🎉🎉

[sleepy-steve]

@steddieangstyaugust 09/08 // upside down

wc: 2.6k // rating: M // cw: excessive description of injury/blood/wounds // tags: previous first kiss, canon divergence, post-s4, steve harrington whump, this man is so injured it’s crazy, so injured and so self-sacrificing

part two to day 8 but can be read alone ♡

divider credits @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Steve drops down into the unfortunately familiar grey-blue atmosphere of the Upside Down. His feet hit the ground, and despite the bandana covering his nose and mouth, he feels the death and decay enter his lungs as he surveys his surroundings. It’s much worse than before. It’s heavier, like inhaling steam, but sits cold in his chest. A sign that he shouldn’t have returned. A reminder of how dangerous this was. The ground shakes with tremors as Steve pulls on the rope, testing its stability before tying it to the nearby destroyed remains of a trailer. In this state, he couldn’t be sure whose it was. The giant crack in the earth had all but destroyed the trailer park, but it was close enough to where they’d exited those days before, panicked and rushed, Dustin near inconsolable about having lost Eddie.

“Buddy, buddy, look at me,” Steve had said, grasping his shoulders. “We’ll come back for him, okay? I will come back for him.”

“No!” Dustin cried. “No, Steve! I can’t lose you too!”

Steve wouldn’t promise it, but he let the matter go at the time. He waited until after he’d been admitted to the hospital, receiving treatment for an infection in the bat bites. Bringing it back up once they’d all received medical attention only had several people yelling at him. He was warned, commanded, begged—repeatedly and earnestly—to not go back into the Upside Down. That it wasn’t safe. That he needed time to heal. That there would be no point. That Eddie was gone, and even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t want Steve to risk his life going back in to find him.

“Steve, you’re literally in a hospital bed,” Nancy had said, her steely tone covering her concern. “You can’t be serious.”

“Listen, Harrington,” Hopper had sat beside him, voice stern. “You are not to go back there. Do you understand me? We can’t lose any more people.”

But Steve wouldn’t be swayed. And so he was alone. Searching the Upside Down for a man that was believed to be dead.

His flashlight swung in an arc, illuminating the destruction around him. Deep, cavernous fissures in the ground are lit up by the flashlight. Eddie couldn’t have gotten far, with how seriously he was injured. Once the earthquakes started, Dustin said he tried to drag his body out of the wreckage, but it was almost impossible. He took cover until the shaking ground settled enough for him to walk. When he went back, Eddie’s body was gone. Steve pulls debris aside, the movement tugging on his barely healed scars, searching areas that someone could hide in. The scar around his neck burns. Steve had to find him.

Mike, Will, and Eleven were looking for Dustin, after having visited Max, when they showed up at Steve’s hospital room. As Dustin readied to walk them out, Steve asked Eleven to stay back to ask her a question—earning some distinctive looks from the others—and once the boys were gone, handed her one of the Missing Person posters that Wayne Munson had hung up around the relief centre.

“Can you look for him?” Steve had asked, desperate at that point. “If he’s still… if he’s down there, will you know?”

Eleven gave him a quizzical look, but nodded. “If he is there, I can find him.”

He’d waited patiently—tried not to fidget, to keep quiet—while she put a blindfold on, the small radio Dustin had brought to Steve set to static. The seconds ticked into minutes as Steve watched intently, waiting for an answer.

“I see him,” she finally said. “He’s… hurt. Lost.”

Steve’s heart was in his throat. “Is he… alive?”

Eleven nodded. “Alive,” she confirmed.

Feeling like the air was being sucked out of his lungs, Steve’s hands went to his hair. He’d hoped, god, he’d prayed, that it was true. That they hadn’t lost Eddie. But that meant he’d been stuck down there for almost a week now.

“D’you—can you see where he is?” Steve asked.

She was still for several moments, mouth pulled into a frown, before she shook her head. Trying not to be disappointed, he focused on the important part. Eddie was alive. For now, at least. But he had to work fast.

“Okay, uh, listen,” Steve said. “Can you please, uh, not tell anyone else? That you know this.”

When she pulled her blindfold off, she gave him a look that was far too knowing. “Friends don’t lie, Steve.”

“I’m not asking you to lie,” He quickly clarified. “But this is to keep everyone else safe. If the others find out that he’s alive, they’ll try to go back in to find him.” He takes a breath. “It has to be me, no one else.”

“Steve, it is not safe there.” Eleven looked over him. “You are still sick. It will get worse.”

“I know, kid,” Steve sighed. “But I have to save him.”

In the end, Steve convinced her to promise to keep it to herself—unless someone asked directly, and unless he hadn’t returned within six hours of going back—with the added compromise that he would tell Robin where he was going. He checked himself out of the hospital that afternoon, signing multiple forms that indicated he knew he was going against medical advice.

Telling Robin of his plan was never in question. He couldn’t lie to her. Sitting her down at his house, he asked her to please not tell anyone, to only involve anyone else if he hadn’t returned in six hours, as he promised Eleven. Robin begged him not to go through with it, reaching an almost panicked state as she tried to convince him to stay. He can still hear her tearful voice in his mind, looping over and over, a reminder of what he’s sacrificing.

“Steve, please, you can’t do this, at least not without someone to help you!” She’d held onto his arm, stopping him from loading items into a backpack.

Steve turned to her. “I’m not going to drag anyone else into this with me, Robin. This is my decision. Everyone’s already made it clear they don’t think it’s a good idea. I gotta go alone.”

“At least let me come with you!” Robin tried, following him as he searched for a flashlight. “At least you wouldn’t be alone.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders, stopping her. “I can’t let you do that for me. It’s too dangerous.”

Robin shrugged him off, tone growing angry. “So what are you doing then?! Going alone when it’s too dangerous for me to come with you? You’re not even fully healed yet, Steve! You could die down there!”

“I have to try, Rob,” Steve sighed. “I have to. He’s trapped down there.” 

“We could organise a rescue, just don’t do this alone!” Robin yelled, reaching the end of her patience.

He took her hands in his. “No one else needs to put themselves in danger. Hopper was right, we can’t lose any more people, but I can’t just leave him down there. I can’t, Robin.”

Steve knew Robin would understand, at least, why he needed to do this. The kiss. The one that haunts him. The one he and Eddie shared behind the RV, right before they marched back into hell and they lost him. Robin knew—more than anyone—what Steve would do, that his mind wouldn’t be changed. Not for something like this. Because Steve was self-sacrificing to the point of harm for anyone important to him. And this was bigger. There was more at stake—she could tell by the way he spoke about it, with how serious his tone was. She cried and held him tight, finally demanding that he come back at the first sign of danger, and promising him that they could regroup and try again. Just as long as he came back.

Heart aching as the conversation replayed in his mind, Steve shook himself. He needed to focus. The increasing pain of his scars was distracting enough, and he couldn’t afford to lose time. Already having searched for what felt like hours, Steve’s strength was starting to waver. The crimson storm clouds rolled overhead. The weight of his emotions—the guilt, the wish that he’d handled things differently—was starting to feel impossible to carry.

It ate him alive, the way it all went down. The connection between them had been undeniable, Steve constantly finding himself drawn to Eddie, and Eddie endlessly getting back up in his space. It all culminated in a shared moment that turned into a timid kiss, which quickly turned desperate and heavy. It all became too much, too fast, too real—

Steve had panicked and asked him to stop, but it just came out wrong, and Eddie wouldn’t hear him out. He’d wanted to keep going, god, he’d never been kissed like that. Not with so much heat and desire and need. But he also didn’t want it to just be that. He felt something between them that was magnetic and electric and set his heart ablaze in a way he hadn’t felt before. He just couldn’t get the words out. Left speechless by the feeling of Eddie’s tongue in his mouth and his body pressed up against him. He wished he’d just been able to verbalise what he felt. I don’t want this to be meaningless. I’m not just trying to get a quick lay at the end of the world. I think this could be something special. I want it to be.

If only his mouth had cooperated with him. But Eddie had misunderstood his faltering for rejection, and ran away… And they had more important issues to deal with. Despite wanting to approach, to explain himself and set the record straight, Steve knew it would have to wait. Except Eddie had done the very thing Steve told him not to do. Ran right into danger, played the hero, and sacrificed himself. Yes, it meant Dustin was saved, and for that, Steve would always be grateful. But Eddie was gone—lost.

Lost but alive. This is the thought that keeps him moving. Keeps him searching despite his body screaming in agony. Some of the wounds feel open, the sickly cold seeping under the bandages and mingling with his blood. His back burns and aches—the abrasions from being dragged on the ground, dry and splitting—the pain of it sinking deep into his muscles. Making it harder for him to move. Every breath is laborious, he feels like he’s drowning. Steve pulls down the bandana, coughing heavily. The strange particles in the air get sucked into his lungs as he tries to catch his breath. The wounds around his stomach bite into him, feeling worse than when he arrived at the hospital, where infection was starting to take hold. He can’t give up.

Every second feels precarious. Steve hasn’t heard the chittering or hissing of any creatures down here, thankfully, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. The atmosphere alone is dangerous enough. Like the Upside Down was rejecting his presence, and the longer he stays, the more it tries to destroy him. How could Eddie be alive in this place?

It’s been hours now. The flashlight illuminates another chasm in the ground, reminding him of how unachievable his task is. Steve drops his backpack to the ground and leans against a more solid looking destroyed trailer, the back of his head hitting it as he looks to the red-clouded sky. His legs ache from walking. Daring to look down, he notices dark spots starting to stain his shirt. He swallows heavily, mouth dry, the taste of rot on his tongue. A wave of nausea rolls over him. He wills it down, knowing that if he vomited now, the pain in his wounds would only grow, and he’s not sure he can handle that. 

Dread starts to seep in, and for the first time since he arrived back here, Steve starts to think that maybe he can’t do this. Maybe he can’t rescue Eddie. Not on his own. Not in his current state. Even if he found Eddie now, how would he be able to help? He can barely support his own weight right now.

Steve slides down the side of the trailer, hissing in pain as it drags against the scars on his back. The ground trembles beneath him. Another reminder of the impossibility of what he’s trying to do. He checks his watch. Three hours since he left, half of his time is already up.

“Fuck…” Steve breathes, trying to keep his cool. He could do this. He had to do this. He reaches into the backpack, pulling out a bottle of water. The plastic cracks as he twists the lid off. The water does little to ease his nausea. It’s with his eyes closed, praying for some strength to return, when he hears it.

A… gasp?

Steve’s head turns sharply toward the echoing sound. He drops the water bottle back into his bag, pulling out his nail bat and scrambling to his feet. The sound comes again from his right. He steps slowly, bat raised. His heart hammers in his chest. Following the sound, pain temporarily forgotten, Steve makes his way carefully around the destroyed trailer, avoiding debris.

The sound gets louder. Steve approaches a chasm in the earth, two half destroyed trailers on either side. Shattered glass and half melted metal litter the ground. With the bat in his hands, the flashlight is tucked under his arm, shakily brightening the space ahead of him. He leans over the edge, feet planted wide, and looks down into the darkness. It’s shallower than he thought, cracked with blocks of earth jutting out of the walls. 

With no immediate danger in his eyeline, he lowers the bat and aims the flashlight down into the cavern. As the light shines over, he sees dark splatters over the rocks, and Steve hopes it’s not blood. He looks lower, brows pulling together as he follows the splatters deeper into the rift. He hears what sounds like a rattling inhale, head snapping up, a few feet ahead of where he currently stands. Taking a couple tentative steps, he scans the depths carefully, searching for the source of the sound.

The splatters are larger, darker, decorating the earth as he follows the light. An odd shape catches his eye, and he directs the flashlight at it. Steve squints, trying to make out the object, as the light barely illuminates that far down. It takes a moment before he recognises the familiar pair of boots, anything else hidden by another overhanging piece of earth.

Steve doesn’t hesitate, shoving the flashlight between his teeth, and sliding down the edge of the chasm. He shakily drops to a set of rocks a little ways down, looking for a safe enough spot to move down again. Leaning against the rough walls, he shifts another step lower, pain in his back and sides screaming at him. It’s a precarious descent, but he manages to reach the bottom. Steve shines the flashlight ahead, brightening the space. When his eyes adjust, he takes a few cautious steps before dropping to his knees, bat falling to the ground with an echoing clunk.

Eddie lays on his side. He’s covered in dried blood, clothes torn, curled defensively with his knees up to his chest, eyes squeezed shut. Unable to see any sign of movement, Steve’s chest tightens, fearing the worst. Was he too late?

He reaches out with a trembling hand. “Eddie?” he breathes.

Eddie jolts, eyes snapping open, taking in a deep, rasping breath. His breathing settles. He focuses on the man above him. “…Steve?”

[mrs-delaney]

Can we get something where Riley is spiraling a late at night, too much caffeine, been up maybe 24. hours and Joe facetimes her mid breakdown and literally talks her into making a snack and going to bed?

Read-Hide

The room was a disaster zone. Coffee mugs, energy drink cans, whatever she’d grabbed to stay awake were scattered across the room. Crumpled sheets of paper. Her guitar was propped haphazardly against the couch instead of its stand. Riley hadn't meant to stay up this long. Twenty-four hours ago, she'd had a melody stuck in her head, just a fragment, four notes that wouldn't leave her alone. She'd sat down to catch it, pin it to paper before it disappeared.

And then, somehow, it was 3 AM.

She paced the length of her living room, humming the same eight bars on repeat. Her hands shook from caffeine. Her eyes burned. But stepping away felt risky, like she’d lose it for good.

Her phone buzzed from somewhere beneath a pile of discarded lyrics. She ignored it, counting beats under her breath.

It buzzed again. And again.

"Jesus, what–" she muttered, digging through the mess until she found it. Joe's name lit up the screen, a FaceTime call.

She almost didn’t answer. She looked wrecked, hadn’t slept, and what was he doing calling at six a.m. his time?

She hit accept.

"Hey." Joe's face filled the screen, sleep-soft and concerned. He was in bed, lamp casting warm light across his features. "You're still up."

Not a question. An observation.

"I'm still working." She ran a hand through her hair, wincing when her fingers caught in a knot. "Wait, why are you calling so early? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." Joe shifted, propping himself up against the headboard. "Pete just texted me. Said you weren't answering anyone. Been up for a while?"

"Pete's a snitch," she muttered, but there was no heat in it. "I'm fine. Just trying to finish something."

"How long is 'a while,' Riley?"

She glanced at the clock on the wall, doing quick math. "I don't know. Since yesterday morning? But I took breaks. Sort of."

Something in Joe's expression shifted, concern settling into gentle determination. Riley recognized it immediately. It was the same look he got when he decided on a play, when he knew exactly what needed to happen next.

"Show me the room," he said quietly.

"What?"

"Turn the camera around. Let me see."

Riley hesitated, then flipped the camera. The place looked worse on video: coffee cups, crumpled pages, and a couple of takeout boxes she may have ordered yesterday.

"Okay." His voice was steady. "Now show me the kitchen."

"Joe, I'm in the middle of—"

"Just humor me."

She sighed dramatically but carried the phone to her kitchen, which was empty except for more cups and a banana peel curling on the counter.

"Good. Now open the fridge."

She pulled the door open with more force than necessary. "See? Food. I have food."

"Great. Take out the eggs."

Riley frowned at the screen. "I'm not hungry."

“Come on, make some eggs. You’ve got to eat something.”

There was something in the quiet certainty of his voice that made it impossible to argue. She pulled out the carton, along with butter, setting them on the counter with a little too much force.

"Perfect," Joe said, his voice softening. "Now a pan. And bread if you have it."

"Are you seriously talking me through making food right now?" But she was already reaching for the pan.

"Yes." Simple. Matter-of-fact. "Because you've been awake for over twenty-four hours on nothing but coffee and maybe a banana, and we both know you get like this when you're creating. It's not sustainable, Bird."

She wanted to be annoyed, but the genuine care in his eyes made it impossible. She cracked eggs into the pan, the sizzle filling the momentary silence between them.

"The song will still be there after you sleep," Joe said quietly.

"You don't know that." Her voice came out smaller than she intended. "Sometimes they just... vanish. And I can feel this one slipping already."

Joe was quiet for a moment, watching her through the screen as she moved around the kitchen. "Sing me what you have."

"What?"

"The melody. The part that's keeping you up. Sing it."

Riley hesitated, suddenly self-conscious. It was raw, unfinished. But Joe was looking at her with such patient certainty that she found herself humming the fragment that had been looping in her head for hours. Eight bars, rising and falling, trailing off where the block began.

Joe nodded, eyes never leaving hers. "I've got it."

"You've got what?"

"The melody. I'll remember it. And when you wake up, I'll hum it back to you. Promise."

Riley stared at him, fork suspended over the eggs. "You can't just—"

"I can." His confidence was unwavering. "I've got a good ear, baby. Maybe not as good as yours, but good enough to hold onto eight bars while you get some sleep."

Something loosened in her chest. The smell of butter and eggs caught up to her, and suddenly her stomach was clawing for it. She took a bite of eggs, the warmth settling in her empty stomach.

"This is good," she admitted between bites.

Joe smiled, that rare, genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Food usually is."

Five minutes later, plate empty and exhaustion hitting like a wave, Riley carried the phone back to her bedroom. She set it on the nightstand, angled so Joe could still see her as she crawled under the covers, not bothering to change out of her oversized t-shirt and leggings.

"Will you stay with me?" she asked, fighting to keep her eyes open.

"Until you fall asleep."

"Not trying to be clingy. I just… don’t want to hang up yet."

He laughed softly. "Close your eyes, Riley."

She did, the weight of twenty-four sleepless hours finally pulling her under. Just before consciousness slipped away, she heard Joe's voice, low and certain.

"I've got it. The melody. It'll be here when you wake up. Promise."

In the morning, she'd discover a voice memo sent at 3:47 AM; Joe, humming her melody, perfectly preserved. But for now, she let go, trusting him to keep it safe while she slept.

***

When Riley woke, sunlight was streaming through windows she'd forgotten to cover. Her phone screen showed 1:24 PM and three waiting texts.

Joe: Morning. Listen to the voice memo I sent.

Joe: You get eight hours minimum before you start working again.

Joe: Let me know when you're up.

Riley smiled, pressing play on the voice memo. Her melody, hummed in Joe's voice, every note exactly where it should be.

She texted back a single heart emoji, then added: Thank you for this seriously.

His response came seconds later: Any time, Birdie. Any time.

[fillinforlater]

Hello plz feel free to replace my Eunbi ask with a Rose daddy kink feet smut. She has maybe my fave feet for K idol and I dream of the day I can see this smut published. White polish Rose feet stuff, licking, sucking, tasting, feet fucking ofc, and also getting her pussy pounded cumming inside, but also cumming all over her feet. Plot line you can decide. Thanks QT.

The Interview

Male Reader x Roseanne Park

Length: 2188 words

Tags: feet kink, cheating, daddy kink, an interview gone wild, infidelity, fucking feet, feet licking, footjob, masturbation, creampie, hair pulling, cum drinking, rough sex, folding in half

TW: no editing lol

(A/N: the final request of my first request phase back in early 2022. This one is so old, sorry that you had to wait for so long buddy @sooyadelicacies. I hope you enjoy it lol)

"Are you not going to start the interview? Or are you just going to stare at my feet all day?"

"W-well, it's hard to focus, like, your legs are literally pointing down at them. Your sandals barely hide the rosie!"

Rose rolls her eyes. Slender arms folded like a pretzel, she leans back into the beige cushion of her chair, fifteen-hundred, made for her ass and her ass alone. In annoyance she watches her useless boyfriend put the back of his pen on her calves but even a heavy sigh does not stop his advance. In one continuous trail, he drags the pen to her knee before she stops him with a snarky remark.

"Will you stop it? This is important to me. I need your focus on this." She taps the clipboard in his hand, knowing all too well that his horny ass has not written down a single practice question. "Please practice this with me."

"Nah, I'd much rather practice with my cock in your pussie, Rosie~" he responds, face in a smirk so disgustingly self-satisfied at his pathetic attempt at a joke that no one would argue with him looking downright ugly. Rose turns to the side, arms entangled rightly.

"You don't give a fuck about this, hm?" Rose fires back and grips her boyfriend's wrist. "We can fuck afterwards, but not now. I need your help, so please, at least try to act like a journalist."

There he goes again, blank stare focussed on her feet, her face, turning to a smirk as he finds another horny rebuttal:

"I'm no journalist, I'd much rather be an explorer. I could write books about how smooth your legs feel and how tight your pussy is."

"He is a journalist, he can surely write better than you can ever dream off!"

Rose's shout makes the room go quiet. Not that there were more people anywhere near them—but it feels like every atom has stopped moving and only motionless, perfect silence remains. Her boyfriend sinks backwards into the couch, arms folded the same way she has, an eyebrow raised in more than light concern.

"Oh. It's a guy doing the interview?"

#

"Are you not going to start the interview? Or are you just going to stare at my feet all day?"

You straighten your neck, terrified at Rose’s carelessly spoken words. It was only for a fleeting moment that your eyes caught her bare feet, the way her slender legs seem to point down at them, it was impossible not to look. You could promise her that this was only because she decided not to wear any shoes, which would have explained it, but nonetheless, you are in deep shit.

“Excuse my behavior, please,” you quickly respond, beads of sweat forming at the side of your temple. “I was just spacing out. I know I shouldn’t, but please, forgive me.”

“You’re taking this too seriously,” Rose laughs and leans back into her chair. “Is this your first interview with…”

“With someone of your caliber—yes, though I have never felt nervousness rise in me to the point such a mistake happens. I really am sorry.” You bow your head to the idol, hoping to overplay any and every thought of her thinking that you’re thinking about her feet in all kinds of ways. “Shall we begin?”

You pull out your recording device, ready to hit play and make this the professional question and answer session it was supposed to be, but Rose interjects. God knows what she is thinking when she leans forward, slender fingers right above your thigh, voice husky and deep.

“You want them on your cock, right?”

“What?!”

“You want my feet around your cock, right

“Daddy?”

“E-excuse me?!”

“I can see you drooling.” Rose captures a string of saliva with her thumb, blowing away your coverage behind decency, and spreading it over your dry lips. “I can see the want in your eyes when you look at my feet. Aren’t they pretty?”

“R-Rose, this is highly—”

"Inappropriate?" she asks, a look of brattiness and disappointment on her stunning features as her pointy, purple painted nail pokes your cheek. “Inappropriate, like staring at a lady’s feet while fantasizing about them?”

“I-I told you I’m sorry. A-and I was not fantasizing in the slightest.”

Your explanation ends with a wince. The pointy ends of Rose’s delicate fingers sink into the skin of your neck. You throw your head back. The pain is sharp, severe enough that you want it to end, but your hands still tightly hold onto the clipboard and recording device.

“Now you’re lying, Daddy.” Rose repeats that damn word without care. “Why can’t you admit that you like my feet?”

“Because…” you stammer, trying to escape the idol by sinking deeper into the couch, but Rose gets closer to you. Her face right above yours, her thighs trapping yours, her other hand is right on your—

“Because then I wouldn’t be able to hold back!”

Rose is gone, the small of her back back in her seat, her entire body far away from yours. Her entire body? No. You could never forget about her bare feet, which she raises from the carpet and places them on your piping hot bulge. In an attempt at torture, she giggles while rubbing you in between her tiny toes, curling them, pressing them against the head of your hidden cock.

“What if I don’t want you to hold back?” she whispers and fiddles with the top of her dress.

“Rose, I—”

"Don’t talk, Daddy, just

“Take me.”

Drop these useless devices, there will be no record of what is about to happen. Rose’s last sentence has ended the interview before it even started. If you can’t talk with your mouth, your hands will have to do the talking. Nothing stops you from popping open your dress pants, yanking them down your legs, your bulge the only real(ly massive) obstacle, and getting a hold of Rose’s feet.

She smiles, pale cheeks blushing at your sight and the feeling of your cock on her soles. You adjust them, making a perfect pocket to thrust into, but before you can jerk your hips upwards, Rose has taken the lead with this absolutely dreamy look in her eyes.

“Oh Daddy~” Rose moans and moves her feet up and down your length. “You are so big and girthy. Let me worship you with my feet, pretty please.”

“I-I… you’re already doing it, Rosie,” you hiss, her soft soles feeling incredible, yet you wish for some kind of lubrication for things to go smoothly.

Rose nods, her breathing getting more rapid by the second: “It’s just that I—I can’t hold back anymore. Daddy, I need to make you cover my feet, Daddy!”

Not holding back, not holding back, not—you grab Rose’s left calf and as she still yelps in shock, you put her toes in your mouth. With all manners thrown out of the window, you slobber all over her pretty little foot, spit covering every inch of her spotless skin. Rose starts to moan, her other foot teasing the sensitive underside of your shaft, forcing droplets of clean precum out of the tip.

Done with one foot, you take the other and everything leads up to this vicious cycle of covering one foot in drool while the other massages your member, smearing it with your saliva. You take a second to open your eyes and look at the idol before you. She has melted into the chair, biting the fingers of one hand while the other is rubbing her clothed crotch.

"Take them off," you mindlessly groan, before your tongue twirls around her toes. "Take off your clothes for Daddy."

Rose is eager to nod at you using the uncalled for, yet not unwanted nickname. Her eagerness does not stop there however, as she is quick to get rid of her tight white outfit, the thin strings fly over her head, her skirt travels down her legs. Before they reach her feet, she starts to jerk you off, keeping you hard and horny the few short seconds without stimulation.

"Daddy, please plaster your thick cum on my feet!" Rose moans as she inserts two fingers into her cunt.

"I won't hold back."

Pull her ankles close to you. Rose almost falls off her chair, eyes in surprise, then bliss. She is piercing herself open, her fragile legs weak, fully under her control. She loses her mind, you help her lose it and you lose your mind, she helps you lose it and you lose your train of thought—fuck it, fuck her feet.

"Daddy, y-you really seem to like me feet~"

"Fuck, they are the softest."

Move your hips back and forth, her ankles forth and back, squeeze them tighter around your cock. Watch your tip poke through it, watch Rose's finger move in and out, watch her tongue fall out of her mouth. It's all getting you closer, your breathing is rapid, Rose's too. Is she also—

"Daddy, I'm so~close~" the idol mewls and you thrust faster.

"Finger yourself stupid!" you command. "Watch me paint your feet, fuck!"

Rose's eyes tremble. She can barely focus on your erupting cock as her own sex explodes in a violent, squirting orgasm that leaves her thighs and chair in a messy, wet puddle. A deep, echoing, dumb sounding scream comes from her wide open mouth. She is the opposite of you, quietly relishing in the bliss of a climax that sends strings of cum all over soles, feet, even up to her legs.

Before the tremble of Rose's legs makes your semen fall off of them onto the carpet, you quickly fold her in half. The surprisingly flexible woman now has her cum-covered feet dangling above her delirious, glowing face.

"Open your mouth, baby girl," you whisper and watch Rose instinctively stick out her tongue. Your cum drips from her thin legs and feet straight on her face. Rose licks off whatever she can get in desperate desire, while you poke her exposed labia with your stiff cock.

"How does it taste?" you jokingly ask, ready to penetrate her pristine pussy.

"Is this really the first question to your interview?"

"There was an interview?"

Oh fuck.

"Oh fuck!" Rose vocalizes your inner thought as her pussy engulfs your entire length. You can feel her sensitive walls wrap around you, cling onto you, like she wants to squeeze more of your initial load out of you. No, you first have to get there, but with this incredible tightness and her insanely lewd expression as she swallows your dripping cum, she will have you cumming in no time.

"F-forget the interview," Rose whines. "I'll send you the answers per, per mail."

"No, we'll do the interview. Now," you growl at her, fingers tightly grabbing her small thighs. "You'll answer truthfully, baby girl."

"Hng, I-I can't think!"

"No need to. Just tell me: who fucks you better?"

"Wha—ah!"

Rose screams, laughs when you tickle her feet by spreading the remnants of your first load over her soles. Through all of it you start to thrust slower but harder, the depths of her cunt spread widely by your tip. You watch Rose throw her head back and decide to ask again.

"Who fucks you better, Rose? Your boyfriend or me?"

"You, oh God, you!"

"And who did you wear this white polish for?"

"Y-you, I'm only fucking you."

You ponder for a second, resting a hand on her throat. Rose suddenly has these puppy eyes that lack lewdness but increase your desire to dump a ridiculously large second load in her tight cunt.

"God, you look so breedable," you groan and lean down to her face, strands of rose-gold hair not hiding but increasing her stunningness. "But remember: I'm the one fucking you."

"Yes, Daddy." Rose seems to brace for a hard final fucking, but you don't want to give it to her. You feel great, fully inside her small pussy, her juices around you, keeping you wet and warm.

"Final question, Mrs. sluttiest idol:

"Where do you want my seed?"

"I need it in my pussy, Daddy~"

"You need it?"

"Of course, Daddy~ Fill me up!"

A loving thumb crazing her cheek, that's your final showing of mercy. Her ponytail in one hand, clit pinch with the other, you start to jackhammer into Rose's pussy with all the power the word 'Daddy' has given you. You won't be able to keep this up for long, but Rose is already a mess, nothing compared to the powerful idol from before.

She wants to be the little messy nothing on the chair, drilled by a big cock, her painted feet high in the air, her pussy convulsing. That's the way she wants to milk you, get your seed, and with a final thrust (and final, very harsh pull on her hair) you start to cum inside her.

"So warm, Daddy, ah!"

Fuck the interview or Fuck: The Interview? you think as you see you either losing your job or having the most incredible career of anyone in this industry.

[idkmanwtfishumanityanymore]

No I’m sorry Y’all I’m seriously still so fucking pissed off abt this episode, and I have to scream into the digital void about everything wrong with it and how downright mocking it felt or I’m gonna EXPLODE-

FIRST OFF, MY BIGGEST FUCKING ISSUE. Moon, near the end, says that “Bad people are bad people, no matter what dimension it is” or something similar.

HOW THE FUCK DOES SOLAR EXIST THEN, HM?

BECAUSE IF I REMEMBER CORRECTLY, SOLAR STARTED AS “NICE ECLIPSE”, BUT WAIT.. HOW CAN THAT BE POSSIBLE WHEN “BAD PEOPLE STAY BAD, NO MATTER THE DIMENSION”??? CAUSE I’M PRETTY FUCKING SURE ECLIPSE WAS BAD WHEN THAT HAPPENED, AND SOLAR WAS A GOOD VARIANT OF ECLIPSE.

YOUR LOGIC FALLS COMPLETELY, FUCKING, FLAT.

IF SOLAR, A GOOD ECLIPSE CAN EXIST, WHY IS IT SOOOOOO FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE FOR A GOOD BLOODMOON TO EXIST? HM? ANSWER ME THAT, HYPOCRITE.

THE ONLY FUCKING REASON, THEY WERE EVEN CONSIDERED “GOOD”, WAS BECAUSE THEY DIDN’T KILL. SOMETHING THEY ORIGINALLY, HAD TO FUCKING DO OR ELSE THEIR INSATIABLE BLOODLUST, WHICH WAS HARDWIRED INTO THEM, WOULD FORCE THEM TO GO AND KILL BECAUSE IT WAS PAINFUL TO IGNORE IT.

AND DON’T EVEN FUCKING GET ME STARTED ON HOW DISRESPECTFUL THIS FELT TO ANYONE WHO WAS (REASONABLY) PISSED OFF ABOUT HOW BLOODMOON’S CHARACTER WAS HANDLED, AND THE PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY HAD AN ATTACHMENT TO HIM???

THIS WAS THE DEFINITION OF “If I give you what you want, will you fuck off?”

THE WRITERS, (probably fucking Davis), JUST TOSSED SOMETHING BLOODMOON RELATED AT THE FANDOM, TO GET US TO STOP CRITICIZING HOW HORRIBLY THEY HANDLED BLOODMOON AS A CHARACTER.

THEY JUST CHUCKED IT AT US, AND BASICALLY SAID; “Fuck off already, look, they can NEVER be actually good, they’ll always be bad, now stop whining”.

WE LITERALLY SAW THAT THEY COULD BE ATLEAST DOCILE-ISH IN A WAY, BACK WHEN THEY VERY BRIEFLY LIVED WITH FOXY AND FC. FOXY THOUGHT OF A WAY TO KEEP THEIR BLOODLUST AT BAY, THEY HAD ENTERTAINMENT IN THE FORM OF THE BOUNCY CHICK, AND THEY ACTUALLY SEEMED KINDA OKAY WITH LIVING THERE.

BUT NOOOOOOOO, THE FUCKING WRITERS GAVE US A GLIMPSE OF WHAT A VAST MAJORITY OF THE FANDOM WANTED, AND IMMEDIATELY RIPPED IT AWAY LIKE 3 OR 2 DAYS LATER BY HAVING THEM BOTH ABRUPTLY GO AFTER FOXY, AND HARVEST GOT FUCKING KILLED.

THEY WERE FUCKING DEPENDENT ON EACHOTHER TO SURVIVE AND FUNCTION, THEY WERE LITERALLY EACHOTHER’S OTHER HALF. WE CAN CLEARLY SEE THIS WHEN BLOODMOON IS STRUGGLING WITH PLANNING AND CALCUTION, BECAUSE THE OTHER TWIN HANDLED IT. THE OTHER TWIN KNEW HOW TO PLAN, AND CALCULATE SHIT FOR THEIR PLANS, THE REMAINING TWIN WAS THE BRAWN, AND THE OTHER WAS THE BRAIN IN SIMPLE TERMS.

AND DOUBLE DON’T GET ME STARTED ON HOW BLOODMOON WAS LITERALLY HARASSED AFTER HIS BROTHER WAS KILLED???

MONTY AND PUPPET, BOTH, FORCED BLOODMOON TO SIT ON THEIR STUPID LITTLE FUCKING PODCAST, AND PROBED HIM WITH ENDLESS QUESTIONS ABOUT HIS BROTHER.

FOR FUCKS SAKE, MONTY’S FIRST WORDS AFTER THE TIMESKIP WERE “How’s it feel bein’ an only sibling?” OR SOMETHING INCREDIBLY SIMILAR, AND YES, I’LL GIVE PUPPET SOME CREDIT, SHE SEEMED A TINY BIT DISAPPOINTED WITH MONTY FOR OPENING WITH THAT, BUT LIKE 5 OR SO MINUTES LATER, SHE WAS PLAYING THE FUCKING DEATH OF BLOODMOON’S BROTHER, ON FUCKING LOOP, AND EXPECTED HIM TO WATCH.

AND THEN THEY HAVE THE GALL TO CALL THEIR COMMUNITY, ONE OF THE MAIN REASONS THEY CAN EVEN HAVE SUCCESS FROM THEIR CHANNELS, CRAZY, FOR THINKING THAT THEY WENT TOO FAR, AND HAVING EVEN THE SLIGHTEST BIT OF SYMPATHY OR EMPATHY FOR BLOODMOON.

THEY CLAIM WE’RE INSANE FOR HAVING BASIC HUMAN REACTIONS TO SEEING SOMEONE LOSE A LOVED ONE.

THEY CLAIM WE’RE MENTALLY UNSTABLE FOR SYMPATHIZING WITH THE TWINS AND THEIR TRAUMA, WHICH MIGHT I ADD IS NEVER FUCKING ACKNOWLEDGED??

IF ECLIPSE IS ABLE TO HAVE A REDEMPTION ARC, BECAUSE HE’S “NOT THE SAME PERSON”, AND “A CLONE”, WHY IS IT SO IMPOSSIBLE THAT THE TWINS, WHO ALSO WEREN’T THE SAME PEOPLE, AND WERE ALSO CLONES, TO BE EVEN SLIGHTLY REDEEMED??

I DON’T FUCKING CARE IF THEY WERE STILL KILLERS, IT WAS STILL HARDWIRED INTO THEM, IN BOTH ITERATIONS.

I’m not going to touch how predatory Ruin was with them back in October right now, or ever, because I’m honestly appalled that the writers WENT THERE with their script.

Every fucking argument made in this stupid fucking mockery of a video falls flat, and directly conflicts with past fully canon information, and I’m fucking pissed.

on a lighter note, more (JUSTIFIED) complaints about the loan-shark!twins;

OKAY WHY THE FUCK DID THEY SEPARATE THEM INTO “BLOOD” AND “MOON”, COULDN’T THEY HAVE ATLEAST TRIED TO CONNECT WITH THEIR COMMUNITY AND USE ONE OF THE MANY RENAMES WE’VE HAD? BLOODY AND HARVEST, SYTHE AND HATCHET, CRIMSON AND MAROON TO NAME A FEW, BUT “BLOOD” AND “MOON”??? GOD HOW FUCKING DISCONNECTED CAN THEY BE?? THERE’S ALSO ALREADY A MOON THAT EXISTS, SO HOW THE FUCK DOES THAT WORK? HOW CONFUSING DOES IT GET WHEN THEY’RE IN THE SAME ROOM AND SOMEONE SAYS “MOON”, BUT ONLY MEANS ONE OF THEM???

And then the sheer fact that they were literally traumatized by the thought of drinking blood- like I’m sorry but that is NOT enough to traumatize anyone, unless they have like, a crippling phobia of blood. Hemophobia or something like that I think. And considering they say they “bleed people dry” (financially), I don’t think they have a fear of blood, or they wouldn’t use the saying-

So there ya have it, me, in the dark, at 10:33PM on a Friday night in July, on the 26th, writing a whole ass essay assignment because of how PISSED OFF one single episode made me.

I’m gonna go die now. (For legal reasons I mean go to bed /Gen)

[funeralprocession]

omg i was gonna just send u this in a dm or s/t but since its pertinent to this blog ill send in an ask <3333 ok its related to... ill just explain lmao instead of giving a short overview bc i feel like its a pret decent support?

ok so we were talkin abt how - kichi seems to always have 1 person he likes to keep around - the person he keeps is... kinda losery? like either they would be easy to control/steer/get to do his bidding... it happened more than once

he seems to gravitate toward "pathetic" ppl like s/o more pathetic than himself... he has what looks like a controling streak (his talent is only partly to blame ESP if his talent itself is a lie... it would make total sense that hes his class's lucky student n being the supreme leader is just another lie he told bc thats what he fucken does lmfao

ANYWAYYY bc of how he kept picking out s/o he thought seemed weak/pathetic... plus he is not shy abt yelling at ppl/being annoying... i feel like both of those would connect into "he would prob be protective over this pathetic person" (bc he would lose a valuable asset if a/t happened to them but also he just seems to have a type rofl

omg this is getting so long im sorryyyy

a/w this is the thing i was gonna mention but bc its thematic for this blog... that one convo nagi-sama & kichi had where kichi kind of got after nagi-sama for his self deprecation... - kichi knows nagi-sama was looking at him right... like looking for info abt him/his organization on the internet - he already would PROB be interested in having nagi-sama as an asset (bc he seems pathetic/controllable n kichi has gone for that type in the past more than once)

specifically gesturing toward the fact that kichi asked monomi if nagi-sama was messing w him... like if his self deprecation was real or if he was just screwing around and lying... bc he was aware nagi-sama was tryna find info out abt him (n didnt ask a/t directly - in fact he wanted nagi-sama to ask him things so he could have some kind of upperhand over him? literally alluded to taking him in as a servant as payment for answering his questions - even if his answers were lies he would still have an advantage & nagi-sama would owe him atp)... he mighta assumed nagi-sama somehow found out abt his affinity/preference for weaklings/pathetic ppl? n mighta been like... nervous abt nagi-sama doing that intentionally bc he was aware of that (somehow)... ik this is where i fucken live lmfao e/t that happens JUUUUST confirms this ship for me lmfao but i swear its there? it was such a weird reaction out of him? asking monomi if nagi-sama ACTU hated himself or if he was just picking on kichi? what would he do that for? like ya they hadnt rly met before that so he couldnt know that was just the way that guy behaves in his everyday life.... but instead of having a normal reaction to it (or even neutral) he immediately got paranoid that nagi-sama was picking on him? only makes sense its bc he thought nagi-sama found out abt his fetish for pathetic individuals lmfao change my mind i dare u ROFLLLLLL

so this is long as fuck lmfao if it was a ramble i apologize i did my best myu <333

I hope you weren't actually expecting me to talk you out of it XD! Because that's incredibly solid support and only uses things in the source material instead of relying on feelings or impressions?

Kichi didn't really make any effort for strong people, he ignored them, mostly (because they would be difficult or even impossible to control). He didn't lash out at everybody, just like he didn't show special interest in everybody.

My theory (which this is just relying on feelings/impressions but hear me out XD!) is he wants to be useful. He has a preference for losers, pathetic individuals, etc. because he wants someone who would... First of all, listen to him XD! His stuff about being taken seriously as an evil overlord, the mastermind, etc. He lies constantly, they're usually huge/dramatic and he does not care about getting caught in one.

Anyway, he seems to have a preference for someone who isn't likely to turn away or not need him. I do think he has the inclination toward being controlling (because of his literal behaviour, he was forcing a lot of hands and calling/making bluffs, he's not exactly a team player but the "team" had turned against him, almost entirely.)

He was oddly gentle toward Nagito, it could have just been uncertainty? Or it could have been because his initial impression, how he'd picked out "pathetic" individuals in the past, just relying on his read of them to determine whether they were interesting (basically useful) or not, and his impression of Nagito would be that he could be useful.

And his response to Nagito bullying himself was odd XD! He was the only one who actually cared, I took that to mean he might have his own self opinion issues? That he obviously hides a lot better (and overcompensates with his control measures, controlling situations, people's opinions, everything he can steer, he's going to try to do so).

Anyway... It might not have been that he was alarmed by Nagito saying those things about himself, you could absolutely be right? Nagito mentioned on his own that he wasn't able to locate anything about Kichi or his organization when he was looking into it... it's not a leap to assume he might have been paranoid that Nagito did find something, and was just lying about it.

Kichi accidentally told on himself with that odd response to Nagito disparaging himself XD!! Excellent observation! ♡♡♡

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

The only way i could see Canon Katara interested on Zuko is if he somehow did his Heel Turn long before the start of the show and has become a freedom fighter akin to Jet, but without the murder.

Obviously, this is impossible, there is no way that a young Zuko could become a better person without his exile, his enviroment is just not place that encourage

Sorry for the last question i send, i made a mistake and send it sooner than i wanted.

But anyway, what i tried to say that, even if that ridiculous scenario that i propossed where to happen, Zuko would be a very different characther from his Canon self. Plus even if he has become Katara's type, there is no way to know if Katara would be Zuko's type on that scenario lol

***

Once again, guys: pre-scar and exile Zuko was already dealing with a ton of bagagge, and post-redemption Zuko was already a "freedom fighter but without the murder." Katara saw him at this worst during all of book one, at his somewhat less of dick moments (Ba Sing Se), and at his best after his redemption - and she wasn't attracted to him at any of these points.

"I don't support war, genocide and/or murder" is the bare minimum for Katara to not want somebody dead. Compassion is an obligation, not something that immediately makes a guy be a potential boyfriend in her eyes.

We have the answer of what would take for her to be into Zuko, and that answer is not "He can't be a villain anymore" but rather "He can't be Zuko." He can't be a dork that says the wrong thing in a funny way, she'd get mad. He can't want to live in the Fire Nation, there's nothing there for her. He can't be as stubborn as she is, otherwise they're gonna fight (just look at how many times she fights with Toph). He can't take himself too seriously, she'll just mock him for it (ask Sokka).

She wants the guy that literally sweeps her off her feet to charm her, or the guy that notices she's feeling left out at a party, dances with her, and smoothly tells her to ignore everyone's eyes on them because "it's just you and me." She would NOT react well to a guy that screams "SHE'S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!" in the middle of their date (just see how well it worked for Aang when he went "I mean, if it was between kissing you and dying")

And we do know what Zuko's type is: Mai. Gloomy yet sweet, bitchy yet unbothered, out-spoken yet doesn't feel she owes anybody any explanations ever, can handle herself but likes being pampered, apathetic yet caring, has nothing prove yet can be quite arrogant, stubborn yet understanding, aloof to the world in general yet obviously crazy about him in particular.

Zuko might catch brief feelings for someone like Jin (nice, sweet and cheery), but long-term he needs someone as messy as himself so he can relate, but with the kind of mess that balances him out instead of encouraging his worst traits - the yin to his yang. He was not kidding when he said "You're so beautiful when you hate the world"

Katara loves life in general too much for her and Zuko to relate to each other in that regard. She doesn't even know what the word "apathy" means. She doesn't have an "unbothered" bone in her body. Girl went through a ton of trauma and still wasn't anywhere near gloomy, quite the contrary. And she has a bad temper, just like Zuko, which they both know is a bad combo, hence them surrounding themselves with more chill people (Aang, Iroh, Hakoda, Mai, etc).

They're not each other's type AT ALL, hence there being no spark when they become friends. Hence them being not just embarassed, but weirded our and uncomfortable when people mistake them for a couple.

There's a reason zutara fics re-write their personalities completely: there's no other way to force them together because they're fundamentally incompatible. The real Zuko would NEVER be attracted to the real Katara, and vice versa.

[talesofely]

Filipino Perks

Pairings : Natasha Romanoff x Reader (gn, i think)

Summary : You and Natasha were assigned by Fury to get intel from a private art exhibit while you were on a date. However, Fury failed to give you tickets so now you're stuck in the car with absolutely no way to get in... or is there?

Warnings : Nothing, just one mention of y/f/n, which means your fake name. Readers' a liar.

Note : first fic! hopefully I did Nat justice. criticism, likes & reblogs r always appreciated!

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You and Natasha were finally able to act like a couple, going on little dates without worrying about world threatening aliens or villains. But Fury just had to ruin it by calling and assigning you two on a mission since you were in the area. It was a simple mission, just get the intel from a company that SHIELD suspected to be working with HYDRA. The only hard part was it was a private art exhibit and you didn't have tickets. So that leads you two to stay in your parked car in the parking lot, trying to think of a way to get in.

"This is literally impossible! How the hell do they think we'll get in there without tickets?" You said with a groan, leaning back into the driver's seat dramatically. Natasha just chuckled at how dramatic you were being.

"Tasha, baby, as much as I love hearing your laugh that gives me butterflies every single time and make me feel like a lovesick teenager — we need a solution." You frowned, trying to show how serious you were. However, instead of helping you think of a solution, she just gave you an amused smile.

"I'm sure we can think of a way to get in, my love. Calm down." You girlfriend's reassuring tone made you pout, which consequently made her laugh.

"Maybe we can break one of the windows?" You suggested, eyeing the windows on the left side of building.

"That would cause a huge scene, детка." Natasha replied in 'in a matter of fact' tone.

"Threaten one of the guests to give us their invitations?" You tried again, seeing a young couple walk past your car towards the entrance.

"Nope."

"Threaten the guard to let us in?"

"Not gonna happen."

"I'll seduce one of the guests so they'll bring me as a plus one?"

Your girlfriend's glare was enough to answer your question.

"Okay, no, uhhh... I'll seduce the guard so he can let us in?"

"Seriously, babe?" You had to stifle a chuckle at how natasha was glaring at you.

"Then what? oh, I know! We can kill the guard!"

"Y/n. You are not seducing nor killing anyone, okay?" Natasha's tone was enough to shut you up, especially cause she called you y/n instead of all the gushing endearments she normally uses.

"Okay, I'll let you do the thinking, I guess..." You sighed, and closed your eyes, letting her think of a better solution.

You were supposed to give up and just wait for her idea when you saw one of the middle-aged guard's nameplate.

On the nameplate was his last name, Santos. Santos was a Filipino last name. Then it hit you, you can get in.

"Baby. I know how we'll get in." You said with a mischievous grin. Natasha looked at you in confusion and amusement. You looked so confident with your idea that she couldn't stop a small amused smile to show on her face.

"What is it, малыш?" She asked with a raised brow, not sure if she should take you seriously or if it's one of your unserious plans again.

"The guard. He's Filipino." You were already forming the conversation in your head while Nat just stares at you in pure confusion.

"And? I don't see how that will get us in, love." Instead of answering her, you get out of the car and opened her door for her. She stepped out in confusion, interwinding your fingers with her.

You approached the Filipino guard with a polite smile. He immediately held his hand out to ask for your invitation.

"Goodday, ma'am. Welcome to the exhibit. May I see your invitation, please?" The man looked like he was in his mid 50s. His Filipino accent wasn't too obvious, but it was there. It was enough for your smile to widen slightly, knowing your assumption was correct.

"Goodday rin boss! Filipino ka po?" You asked in a calm tone, earning a subtle confused look from natasha.

(Goodday to you too, boss! Are you a Filipino?)

"Ay oo! Filipino ka rin? Hindi halata ah? Mukha kang kano!" The man said with a smile, he reminded you of your father back in the Philippines.

(Oh yes! Are you a Filipino too? It isn't obvious, you look like an american!)

"Ay hindi po, half lang po. Fil-Am po ako, sa Pinas po ako lumaki." You replied with a chuckle. He seemed interested and kind enough to make your plan successful.

(No, I'm only half. I'm a Fil-am, but I grew up in the Philippines.)

"Ano pong pangalan niyo, boss?" You asked once again, getting ready to start the first step in your little plan.

(What's your name, boss?)

"Danilo, Danilo Santos." He confidently said, his filipino accent very evident now.

"Pwede po ba kaming pumasok? Naiwan kasi ng bebe ko yung invitation, birthday pa naman po niya ngayon." You let out a small sad smile, trying to win over the heart of the guard.

Danilo thought about it for a minute, looking at you with hesitant yet sympathetic eyes.

"O, siya, sige. Pumasok na kayo, wag nalang kayong maingay sa iba ah? Anong pangalan niyo ulit?" The guard said with a kind smile, making you instantly feel guilty for lying. (Alright, fine. Come inside, just don't tell others, okay? What're your names again?)

"Salamat po! Y/f/n po, siya naman po si Natalie. 'Di po siya marunong magtagalog, eh." (Thank you! I'm Y/f/n, she's Natalie. She can't speak tagalog.)

"Happy birthday, Natalie. Enjoy your day, ah!" Mr. Danilo smiled at Natasha who thanked him and gave a polite smile. He then suddenly leaned in to whisper into your ear.

"Ganda ng nobya mo, galing mong pumili." He gave you two thumbs up and a fatherly grin. (Your girlfriend's pretty, you're good at picking.)

"Sobra po, mahal po ata ako ni Kupido," You joked, causing him to chuckle. Natasha just looks at you confused but had a small adoring smile on her face. "Salamat po ulit, boss." You waved politely, before holding Natasha's waist to lead both of you inside. (Very, I think Cupid loves me. Thank you, again, boss.)

Once you were both inside, she stopped walking, causing you to stop aswell. You looked at her in concern, pulling her closer to your body.

"What's wrong, Tash?" She faced you with a small impressed smile.

"That was honestly impressive. But why'd you call him boss? And what the hell is a bebe?" Her obvious confusion made you chuckle.

"Oh boss? It's sorta like a Filipino culture. We use it as a sign of respect, like when you call someone ma'am or sir. It also helps when you want to get stuff done fast. It's hard to explain." You shrugged and she just nodded. She interwinded your fingers together, resuming your walk into the halls of the building.

"And bebe is?"

"Bebe is your significant other. It means, baby. Mostly teenagers use it to refer to their lovers," You snorted, laughing at your own explanation. "Like, 'bebe kita', which means, 'you're my baby'. But please never call me that, it reminds me of my highschool boyfriend, ew." You grimaced at the memory, making your girlfriend chuckle.

"What filipino endearment should I call you, then?" She asked in a soft tone, interested in the Filipino culture.

"Mahal." You smiled, squeezing her hand affectionately.

"I'm assuming that means Love?" You nodded and leaned down.

"Tinatangi kita, aking Natalia." You whispered, and placed a soft kiss on her temple. The way you said her name in a Filipino accent made her heart flutter. You smiled when you saw the almost unnoticeable pink tint on her cheeks. (I love you, my Natalia.)

"I love you, more."

★—★—★—★—★—★—★—★—★—★—★

note : the translations aren't 100% accurate since some filipino words doesn't have exact translations soooo yeah. i'm half filipino so i'm kinda confident with the tagalog lmfao. tysm for reading !

— sincerely, ely. ★