#something something never tell me the odds or whatnot

[essektheylyss]

I'm currently reading The Ministry for the Future, and it's really pinpointing some of my issues with contemporary fiction and why I struggle to solve them. It's essentially a near-future speculative fiction concept about climate change, which I think is difficult for me whether optimistic or fatalistic. I am suspicious of escapism where some miraculous solution is found, because I do not enjoy being placated and I find that I have no patience for those who want to be (in this genre of fiction anyway—I personally don't like escapism in general but I acknowledge its necessity otherwise), but I also get frustrated with defeatism because it tends to fall dangerously close to, if not outright within the bounds of, ecofascism, and if a middle ground between the two within a semi-realistic story exists, I haven't found it yet.

Granted, I am only about 20% of the way into this book, so it remains to be seen if Robinson has found that, but... it is making me think I should stick primarily to second-world speculative fiction.

[ncis-nerd]

But Daddy I Love Him

ship: older!natasha romanoff x younger!reader. wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff.

warnings: angst, no happy ending, mentions of cheating, older nat, jerk nat, younger reader, wanda is kinda a dick, age gap, arguing, being ignored.

a/n: happy ttpd day!!

"I'm done with being your second choice Natasha. Just because I am younger than you, it doesn't mean you can just go off with other women because you're scared to admit that they are what you are looking for. Someone older, more mature, someone you can relate to" Y/N exclaimed, her small frame against the older women's.

Her green eyes met y/n's gaze which only confirmed what y/n feared. "That's it? You aren't going to say anything?" Y/N spokes as she grabbed a suitcase from the closet.

"I'm so sick of Wanda! Don't think I didn't see all the ways she touched you. Her hands always on you whenever the two of you were together. I'll tell you this Natasha. I'd rather burn my whole life down, Than listen to one more second of all this bitchin' and moanin'" Y/N threw her arms up in protest and huffed.

"Where are you gonna go." Natasha spoke dismmisingly. She doesn't think you'll actually do it. You have no where to go, no one to go to. Her eyes watering at the slight chance that you may be serious.

✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

Natasha had an award dinner and she asked you last minute to come. It was odd she didn't ask you earlier in advance because they usually know about these things at least 6 months in advance with scheduling and whatnot. But you didn't think much of it. Because you didn't want to accept the alternative.

You came as her date but it sure didn't feel like it. You were the youngest there, all the avengers were at least 10 years ahead of you. It didn't help that your girlfriend left you to fend for yourself, your eyes stuck on her and Wanda. Natasha threw her head back, laughing. Wanda's hand on her shoulder. Their prolonging eye contact. The way they looked at each other. It gave you a bad feeling in your gut but you pushed it away.

No, I'm not coming to my senses. I know it's crazy. But he's the one I want.

You refused to accept it. She said she'd never let it come between you guys. That your age difference would never break you up. She lied. You rose up from the table but no one even noticed, everyone engrossed in their conversation. A stray tear fell from your glassy eyes.

You made your way to the bathroom. Attempting to keep your composure, they already think you're immature, you don't want them to see you as a baby on top on that.

You looked at yourself in the large glass window. You looked at your reflection. Your dress glistened in the light. The door swings open. It's Wanda. Of course she was the one who noticed you missing. Ironic isn't it.

"Y/N" she spoke, her voice filled with fake concern but a hint of guilt. You refused to meet her eyes, not willing to give her that sense of comfort. "Y/N, I'm not going to lie to you just because you're younger than us. I like Natasha. And honestly it feels like she is into me too. There's nothing I can say to make you feel better but I assure you I would never make a move on her while the two of you are together. I promise." Her eyes met yours in the mirror.

"I have money, I know you don't have anywhere to go but if you and Natasha should split, please call me. I don't want to on your own, fending for yourself. I can help you get an apartment or something." Wanda offered.

I just learned these people try and save you'. Cause they hate you

Of course, of course she wants to "take care of you". Because you're the little fragile thing who can't handle heartbreak. She just wants to make a move on Natasha, this is a ton of bullshit. You press your nails into your hand. You smile politely and say a simple thank you. Not wanting to cause a scene and give Natasha more of a reason to leave you.

✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

Thinking it can change the beat of my heart when he touches me. And counteract the chemistry. And undo the destiny.

Her hand reaches for my shoulder, to stop me from leaving. "That won't work anymore, Natasha. I'm calling Wanda. She offered to help me get an apartment." You spewed out, reaching for the door. It hurt. You no longer called her Natty, the sweet nickname you had gave her when your relationship was in an earlier stage. A simpler stage where you didn't have to question if she wanted to be with you.

You slammed the door behind you, goodbye Natasha.

✦·┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

[mochatsin]

MC as a Dating Sim Character

An AU in which the seven brothers knew you as a dating sim character from a game they love to play so much. Has nearly the same functions as the Obey Me app. 

It started off as a trend in Devildom, a new app that a lot of citizens and RAD students play with recently. Great reviews when it came to the storyline and the characters. The brothers gave it a shot and surprisingly became attached to it. The reason? You.

Levi is the first to fall down that rabbit hole because he’s been waiting for this game’s release for a while now. He saw the roster of dating sim candidates and he fell for you first. Something about your design was alluring to him and when he finally had the app downloaded, he spent the first night playing the storyline to understand you. Learning your lore is what made him fall even harder to the point he has a shelf dedicated to your merch. He grinded so hard to upgrade all your cards (he definitely got those UR and UR+ ones)

Asmo started playing when he saw the trends about it and he wanted to jump on that bandwagon. Play the game and talk about the characters, which ones he like and whatnot right? It was easy, but when it came to your character he found himself playing on the game longer than he wants to admit. His fans can immediately tell whose Asmo’s favorite character is with how much he talked about you in his videos. He makes sure to get all the pretty skins that get released because in his opinion, there’s not a single outfit that doesn’t look good on you. 

Mammon plays the game as well when he attempted to sneak into Levi's room to sell something and ended up finding his brother’s merch of you. Mammon doesn’t want to admit how many hours he’s spent on the game trying to max out the affection level with you. Definitely spent so much money to get the UR cards since he can’t grind as much as Levi does, and he’ll buy those limited gifts to hear those special voice lines from you.

Satan gets curious and downloads it because he’s wondering how good was this game to even make Mammon lessen his casino gambling habits. The storyline is great, but the writing for your character was what made Satan stay in the game. He doesn’t hesitate in approaching Levi to ask about the game mechanics and tips, and Satan has it covered from there. He focuses on the story to get as much lore he could out of you. He wants to learn about every single fact about his favorite character. 

The twins played at the same time, and it’s funny how they both ended up liking the same character. They found out when they were playing the game together and saw you were their home screen character. Beel loves listening to your voice lines while he works out to motivate himself, while Belphie always has your voice lines wishing him goodnight that he uses to fall asleep with. 

Lucifer will never tell anyone that he plays the game. Not as much as his brothers though, this is something he wants to do in his free time or when he’s alone in his private study, he’s more casual about this than others. Your character is honestly pleasant company, it’s nice to hear you cheer him on while he works. Though he’s sure that if his brothers knew he found comfort in a dating sim character, they would mock him for sure (even if they’re all the same).

Though something weird happens one day when all users log in the app. Levi is practically screaming when he runs out of the room with distraught in his face. You’re his home screen character, but for some odd reason you’re not where you’re supposed to be. He thought maybe it’s the game being laggy, but you don’t reappear no matter how many times he refreshes the app. 

The brothers are just in shock, phones on the table during breakfast to check what was going on exactly. Your cards are all glitched out and corrupted, though everyone else’s was fine. People are wondering if this was all part of the game, if there’s some sort of event or what but there’s nothing. It’s like the game actively tried to erase you.

The devs eventually released a statement that due to some complications and unforeseen circumstances, the game will be deleted. Of course a lot of people are outraged, why would the devs suddenly discontinue the game in the middle of its peak? It was gaining a lot of attention and some people have already spent so much money for it. Everything was just unfair when there’s no answers.

Despite any attempts to keep the game, it was somehow deleted from everyone’s phone. Levi only has some of his screenshots and recordings to keep, whining from time to time as he looks longingly on his merch line. Some brothers sulk more than others, though they’re all upset regardless. Why you? Why did it have to be you specifically? You suddenly disappeared from the game, and they never knew why. With the game gone, there doesn’t seem to be a way for them to get their answers. 

Satan wanted to use his connections to figure out the truth, try to find the devs to get the answers everyone is looking for. The truth seemed much more disappointing for Satan though, learning that the devs actually didn’t know either where your character went. They thought it was a virus at first, but all your data was just missing. No matter how hard they tried to fix it, there was nothing they could do. They can’t handle running a faulty game, so they chose to discontinue and start fresh. 

Some fans would probably be thrilled to hear a new game already in the works, but it doesn’t feel the same. You’re the character that these brothers were invested in. There’s just something about you and your charms that had them drawn in the game, so the brothers weren’t exactly excited hearing about the new set of characters. Clearly it upsets the demons.

That’s until Lucifer called the brothers to Diavolo’s castle, as there’s some sort of emergency that requires their attention. Lucifer drags each and every one of their brothers out of their rooms, they can pout and whine about you later. 

Diavolo called in all of them, talking about that dating game that took Devildom by storm once. No matter how hard they tried to hide it, the young prince knew that each and everyone of them were playing it. They’re all embarrassed at being caught, but surely they’re not here just to be exposed by Diavolo right? He says that an unexpected guest has been found in Devildom recently, bringing the boys to a room in a castle.

There you are, standing in the room in front of the seven demons that are staring at you with awe. You’re here… in Devildom? At first they thought you were just some cosplayer, but the way you introduced yourself and your name was the same as the one in the game. There’s no way you’re real, but all the evidence is standing right in front of them. 

Diavolo says that he’s entrusting you in the care of the seven demon brothers. Barbatos somehow knew that you were all of their favorites, so they probably know what you like and how to take care of you. Maybe it would be a good idea. 

To be continued… i think?

[soadiablo]

How would the spidermen react to the (male) reader being all of their boyfriend in each world?

For some he’s a villain, for some he’s a fellow hero, for some he’s a civilian.

Which spider person has which reader and what happens when they find out that they all have a reader?

atsv men w/ the same boyfriend from another universe

characters: miguel o'hara, peter b. parker, and hobie brown.

cw: none

notes: okay so i accidentally wrote a whole fic so what

i'm ASSUMING that you mean across the spider-verse spidermen so that's what i'm doing, if you were thinking something else please let me know.

not proof read

So let's put this into a scenario, you're your own Spider-Man in your own universe. But you have your own love interest. And say one day you're kicking bad guy butt right? Even though it's odd cause the bad guy doesn't look like they're from your universe. Then all of a sudden, this portal opens and another Spider-Man comes through it and also starts beating your bad guy.

Yeah so long story short, it was Miguel and you two do a little banter thing, and you convince him to let you join his Spider Society. Which leads you to the point where you meet Peter and Hobie. And oh boy are they getting some memories.

MIGUEL would probably already have been aware of the fact that you existed in multiple universes. Miguel would probably have a boyfriend who is also a fellow hero, but maybe not exactly Spider-Man. Maybe just someone who helped him on missions and whatnot. So I don't think his reaction would be too strong. He's aware that you look a little like his own version of you, and act like him. But he knows you aren't his version. Although I do believe that would lead to some pretty fun bantering and questions.

Who knows, maybe he might introduce you to... well you one day. Maybe some fun hero shenanigans might ensue.

PETER would probably be a bit stunned. I mean come on, you saw how he was with MJ in the first movie. Maybe you are a spitting image of yourself. Peter would most likely have a civilian boyfriend. Someone who takes care of him after a fight, watching Mayday (i love Mayday fyi), and just being there for when he comes home. That being said, see you as Spider-Man makes him feel... ways he's never felt before. In a good way. He thinks it's cool that he has a boyfriend who is also Spider-Man! He would most likely ask a bunch of questions. Like if you had any cool powers, how does your own suit work, were you also bitten by a radioactive spider?

Peter would also probably try to test your strength, and also get you to meet his own version of you. He just thinks it's cool.

HOBIE would just be amused at the fact that another you exists. Most likely it was a gut feeling, but seeing you with his own two eyes just confirms it. Or maybe he just didn't believe in you, he doesn't believe in consistency. I feel like if you do manage to strike a conversation with him he would probably tell you all about his version of you. One of the first things he'll say is about how you're a villain in his universe. Yep, personally I believe that Hobie would have a boyfriend who's a villain in his universe. What villain you represent is completely up to you. Although it is interesting to know another version of his boyfriend is a hero instead of the opposite.

Would he introduce you to his version of you? Probably not.

© all rights are reserved to soadiablo. do not repost, steal, or copy my work.

[minimomoe]

Fever n Frosting

here's a little sneak peak of something in my wips... Toji centered, ofc. fluff and whatnot

“Don’t look at it.”

“I don’t even know what I’m looking at.”

“God, it’s ugly, that’s why,” you cried out. 

It was a new week, new day. You have since gone back to work in good health. Your subordinates had left a plethora of messages and emails the days you were out, wishing for a speedy recovery as you have never missed a day of work since… well ever. The day after you packed your own lunch, smiling fondly at yourself at the nikujaga in your thermal cup that Toji had cooked. You loved it so much that you tried your hand in the kitchen. Baking, to be exact. You thought that it would be easier and wanted to surprise Toji the next time you saw him. You were horribly humbled by the deceptively easy food blog.

Toji stared at the cake on the countertop, and then stared some more. It was uneven for one, the left side much lower than the right. You put icing on it before it completely cooled and the pink sugar dripped down onto the table, exposing the yellow cake that laid beneath. Toji wasn’t sure how exactly he could tell, but it looked dense. 

“You don’t have to eat it—“

“I’m eating it,” Toji cut you off. You gave him a look of horror.

“I didn’t even ask you if you liked sweets! Spare me the embarrassment,” you squealed. 

“Nah, you made it for me. Might as well give it a taste,” he said. 

Toji ignored your pleas and rummaged through your cabinets for a plate and fork. He cut a hefty slice and held up the fork for you to taste first, which you profusely shook your head at. He then shrugged and shoved the fork in his mouth. Toji was quiet as he ate, only looking at you with little reaction. You held your breath as you waited for his verdict. 

“Are you sure you were trying to make a cake?” 

“Oh kill me now.” You threw your head in your hands. “Is it really that bad?”

Once again Toji held the fork up for you, gently nudging it on your lips. You opened your mouth, suddenly more embarrassed at the fact that he was feeding you than the failed baking experiment. He stared at your mouth while you stared at his face, noticing how his mouth slightly parted when he slipped the cake behind your teeth. His eyes flicked up to yours and you found it hard to chew. 

“Speak, woman.”

It was a dry, crumbly mess that wasn’t even sweet. Your eyebrows then flew up in realization for the odd taste. Once again, you wished the floor would open up and swallow you. 

“I forgot sugar,” you groaned. You groaned again, a long and exasperated one, resting your head on the countertop in hopes of expelling your failures. Unexpectedly, laughter fell onto your ears. You peeled off of the surface to gape at Toji and he was laughing, a genuine one, not the half chuckled he usually handed out that brought color to his face. It was a beautiful sight to bear that lifted your spirits a bit.

“It’s been a while since anybody made me something,” Toji said softly after he was done. The look on his face stirred something in you. Ruddy blush painted over his cheeks and the crows feet around his eyes deepened. “It’s not the best but trust me, I’ve eaten worse.” 

“I’m not too sure if that's a compliment. It certainly doesn’t make me feel any better.” 

What a lie. His words warmed your face. You shoved the wretched butterflies that wanted to dance in your stomach down by scooping icing up with your finger and eating it. 

“This doesn’t taste bad.” 

“Let me have some more,” Toji said, licking the remaining off of your finger. His hand wrapped around your waist and your wrist as he stood behind you, and your jaw tightened as you felt his tongue pad moved on your skin. “You’re right. I bet it’s store bought.” 

“Hush you,” you nervously giggled. He remained standing behind you, his body caging you to the countertop, eating his slice over your shoulder even when you told him you wouldn’t take it personally if he heaped the whole thing in the trash. He offered you bites every so often, and at the very last bite you accepted it. It was just as tasteless as the first, but when he cupped your chin to face him so he could kiss you, it was as sweet as could be. 

M.list || Twitter || Ao3

[mxdarling]

["did you miss me? because i really missed you" / "no! i'm not going anywhere and neither are you! we're stuck together now, i'll make sure of it"]

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅• •❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

ೃ⁀➷: summary: the greatest detective, will never leave your side and neither will you leave his.

ೃ⁀➷: word count: 1.8k

ೃ⁀➷: reference/inspiration: n/a

ೃ⁀➷: event: [200 followers event]

[author's note:] my first bsd work LOLL god when I say I was writing this with trembling hands I wouldn't be lying, I was so scared to write for him even though he's one of my favs fufuu I just hate mischaracterization and i don't wanna fuck this up, anyways thank you anon for requesting ranpo with #30 and #22! it has been my pleasure to write for him LOLL enjoy!!

[warnings:] lowercase, ooc ranpo, yandere behavior, they/them prns, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, ranpo sits on reader's lap, mentions of stalking, implied reader being blackmailed by ranpo, reader is taller than ranpo, non consensual kissing (cheeks & lips), ranpo licks reader's fingers, eavesdropping.

[note:] If there is anything else triggering here that I didn’t list in the warnings section, please tell me. I don’t condone this type of behavior, this is merely just for entertaining purposes and some sort of coping mechanism for me. If you continue to read beyond this point, ignoring my warnings, I am not responsible for your actions from here on out.

[GN reader]

RANPO EDOGAWA, the greatest detective in the world, one who could solve a case in under 3 seconds, your annoying and childlike coworker, the one who has no ability, is currently following you around like a lost child. this has been going on for—at least, 4 minutes max—just him trailing a few centimeters behind as you continue to walk to your destination. in all fairness, when he found out you were going to the grocery store, he immediately jumped into the conversation and decided by himself that he's going to join you during your trip.

"areee weeeee there yet? i don't remember the journey to the store being this long!" a loud whine comes out of ranpo's mouth, worsening your mood as you hear his whiny voice, the kind you'd hear from a 6-year-old child who is simply too impatient to wait for their turn. from your peripheral vision, you could see several people looking at the two of you, ranging from confusion to judgmental stares. his shoulders are down, making him have a slouched body posture as he walks behind youin a more lazier manner than you, who is so close to speed stomping and leaving him behind.

"are we ther- hey! wait up!"

scratch that last thought, you're going to have a pleasant trip to the grocery store and you're going to leave him behind if that's what it takes to have peace of mind.

(fortunately for him, you didn't. your dislike for attention proves to be something he could use to his advantage, seeing how you crumbled under the feeling of many eyes turned towards you two when he whined and cried in the middle of the sidewalk, making a scene in broad daylight, taking his wrist in your grip, and dragging him along to your destination, making him match your speedy pace. he'll definitely keep this in mind for future use.)

the office was quiet, and you were alone in the room—switching between writing and reading a bunch of papers piled up near where you're sitting. despite having gone through just a few pieces of paper, the weight on your shoulders and back has gotten rather heavy, like you didn't stretch your limbs beforehand after waking up from your 5-hour rest. the silence was odd, to say the least, not that it wasn't unwelcome; it just made you curious about what your co-workers were up to, which made them not present in the office today. maybe yosano is out shopping, maybe kunikida and dazai were out chasing down criminals, and whatnot, maybe atsushi is helping out to solve a case with... him. the oh so great detective, fucking ranpo.

as much as he preached about how great he is and how everyone else in the detective agency respects and admires him, you were quite indifferent towards him in general. you aren't sure what everyone sees in him or what makes him so interesting that he's able to get this much attention—in other words, he's just plain boring in your eyes. actually, scratch that; he's more than boring; he's an absolute brat. he's whiny, always munching on his snacks so loudly, refusing to do work or cases sometimes, and acting like his super deduction is an ability. what's even worse is that he seems so determined to bother you constantly, every chance he gets. rarely are you left alone and left to breathe from the overwhelming detective—even if you are given a moment of peace, he'd come running back acting like an even bigger headache for you.

"(nameeeeeee)!" filling up the room with his shout, he pushed open the door with such force that it banged so loudly that the noise echoed to the other side. you could feel his attention on your back as silence once again filled the room. in the most coincidental (and worst) timing, the headache you were talking shit in your head comes into the office—a dreadful pit building up in your stomach as you mentally pray in your head for whatever ranpo is going to put you through this time. you could hear the skip in his footsteps. every step he takes, more sweat starts rolling down your cheeks as you close your eyes and imagine a life without ranpo, without the suffocation of love and attention he gives you, without the anxious thoughts of being followed on your way home (you have major suspicions that it's ranpo but have nothing solid to prove it's him), without him blackmailing you into compliance, without-

dragging you out of your inner thoughts, the headache makes impactful contact with your back. "did you miss me? because i really missed you!" he says in a cheerful tone, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a tight grip and rubbing his cheeks against yours like someone would greet their lover when they miss them so much (he's doing it on purpose to make you uncomfortable, you think). to further prove your point, he smashes his lips against your cheek, not once, not twice, but multiple times in the same and adjacent areas of your cheek. if this had happened to you several months ago, the simple act of him trying to wrap his arms around your shoulders would make you go away from him as fast and as far as possible—even more so if he tried to kiss you, your water bills would skyrocket through the roof for how much time you would spend in the bathroom trying to scrub away the kiss on your cheek.

"no i didn't, actually" having gotten used to his (non-consensual) affection towards you, his actions do not faze you; on the outside, that is, there still remains that pit of disgust you used to have all those months ago. those urges to swat his body away from yours to give yourself some space are still there, yet you do nothing to act on any of them. you simply decide to indulge in whatever antics he has up his sleeves this time for the next few hours of your day—not that you had a choice, anyway.

(several times you've expressed discomfort at the physical touches he gives you during work hours, several times you've expressed discomfort at the physical touches he gives you during work hours, and several times he intentionally ignores it for his own benefit. the one time he went overboard was when he made himself comfortable on your lap, handed you several sweet snacks you assumed he got from his secret stash, and forced you to hand-feed him until he was satisfied. to say this stunt of his hindered your productivity would be an understatement. you were way behind your planned schedule by the time you finished hand-feeding him all the sweet snacks.

just as you were about to ask him to get off, he suddenly grabbed your wrist, saying something about "there's still some crumbs left!" which confused the fuck out of you until you felt the wet sensation of a tongue licking your fingers. the horrors expressed on your face seemed to further encourage the amused ranpo, as he started sucking on your fingers too! neither of you two brought up that incident again, though you're glad he hasn't done this again; you aren't sure how well you were going to handle the next one.)

"i guess you could say smart men are my type," you say rather subconsciously without any thought or care of your co-workers' reaction to your answer, instead putting all your focus on your computer screen and continuing to type away as you hear several gasps and 'no way's from your left side.

"(name), are you.. sure smart men are your type?" there was hesitation in their voice, disbelief even—like they didn't believe you the first time. "uhh.. yeah? i didn't really give much thought, but intelligence is hot, i guess," you said once again, answering in the same manner you did the first time. you weren't sure what they were trying to get out of this conversation, but if you had to guess, most likely they're attempting to set you up on a blind date. "..alright, if you say so.." they say, ultimately ending the conversation and switching topics to avoid making the awkwardness linger in the atmosphere.

(little did you and your co-workers know, the great detective was listening in on the whole conversation. hearing every word that came out of your mouth, to say he stumbled upon your little talk on accident would be a lie—he doesn't go to such lengths without a reason. to say he's surprised by your type of men like your co-workers were would be another lie, but he's quite puzzled. if smart men are your type, why do you always seem to give the expression that you're disgusted by him? no matter, as a detective, it's his job to uncover every bit of mystery and solve for all the missing pieces.)

stepping out of the building, bidding farewell to your co-workers, and parting ways as you walk to your house, taking extra caution by putting your keys between your fingers in case you were to be stalked by someone, especially a certain someone you've been trying to avoid all day long...

"(naaameeeee)!!" and speak of the devil; he shows up to come and ruin your day just when you're about to go home—how fun. you let out a tired sigh and turned around to see ranpo running towards you at full speed. the sight set off alarm bells in your head, so on impulse, you tried to get out of his way and hoped he ran too fast that he ended up hitting a light pole straight in the face. yet it seems this day of yours wouldn't be so lucky, because suddenly he grabs your shirt, pulls you a little lower to his height, and then kisses you on the lips.

your eyes widen in shock, momentarily stunned for a second, before you feel your instincts kick in and roughly push him away.

"ranpo, what the fuc-!?"

suddenly you feel an unexpected impact hitting your chest, emitting a surprising noise from your mouth, making you cut off mid-sentence. ranpo buries his face underneath your chin, rubbing against your skin with his cheek like it's a pillow—opening your mouth. you tried to protest once more against him, but nothing came out. the sudden feeling of a pair of arms wrap around your torso and your arms holding you in a tight grip, sending the message that he doesn't want to let you go. after what felt like eternity to you, he looks up and shows you the poutiest expression you've ever seen him make.

"no! i'm not going anywhere, and neither are you! we're stuck together now; i'll make sure of it!"

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅• •❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

PLEASE DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO OTHER SITES WITHOUT MY PERMISSION + REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

[ashuribbon]

Something I had been thinking about, but I remember in my stream talking about this (let's hope I don't get my butt kicked). I was gonna talk about this on my none-art blog, but it's fair I post it here instead:

In my theory, A Mermaid's Tale won't be the last time we see of Abalone Cookie. If anything, a part of me feels he could come back to play another major role in any future event. Whether it be the next update or in about a year or so, a part of me thinks he could end up with a newer ghost-like design, or perhaps a design similar to famous fictional pirate villains such as Davy Jones or whatnot!

I say it won't be the last since there is some tint of proof. If you recall in Ovenbreak, we had seen Pirate Cookie's backstory and how it said he found a way to become a ghost. We see Pirate manage to survive against all odds, at least compared to the likes of Black Pearl Cookie's victims, and by extension Abalone.

Another note is how Pirate's crew contains mostly dead spirits, which shows he has it easy. While he may have died elsewhere via Night Sea, he somehow managed to survive, but we'll have to wait and see what exactly happened to him that lead to him being a ghost pirate. Whether it be because of Dark Enchantress Cookie, or because of a curse, it's up for debate.

A notable thing I took note of with the Kingdom Arena cake hound from almost a year ago is the description:

And if you recall, we saw Abalone's fate: He was drowned in the waters of the deep by Black Pearl Cookie in what would become the Duskgloom Sea. Accordingly, he was the first to fall victim to her, having been swallowed by his own greed and manipulative nature.

Black Pearl Cookie mentions a ship that once belonged to a "fearsome pirate."

That is also mentioned in this decoration:

Not to mention possible bonus dialogue from the game:

Whether it be that it's Abalone Cookie saying this, or said Captain talking about Abalone, it's pretty much an indicator that he's still alive, but mostly undead levels of alive.

The more possible outcome is that "fearsome pirate" was Abalone. If he was a pirate captain posing as a mariner, then it's no shock that he had House Abalone built by his own hands all while being a fraud. He didn't even need to try, since it was possible that nobody came to stop him when he rose to power, especially with some info that is seen when playing through the Special Episode:

He may have started out similar to Lord Oyster, but like all legends, a spark led him to power all Rise of Scourge style, and overtime he became cocky and ruthless.

The most likelihood we'll see is he either comes back as a ghost pirate, or ends up being similar to that of a Cookie with merged parts of a sea creature (betting ten cents he'll have parts of the Aquamech on him). He's dead and gone, but he's still out there and forever long forgotten. We'll never know.

And besides... Don't dead men tell no tales?

[giggly-squiggily]

Hey Matt I request a muitan tickle fic have a great day ☺️

Hey friend! (Matt? I'm Squiggily :D) I gotcha covered! This kinda turned more into Lee!Tanjiro, Ler!Muichiro but I hope you like it anyway! :3 Have an amazing day!

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@myreygn @thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @wolfyeatstacos @gladdygirl18 @baby-tickles2022 @cupcake-spice13 @backy-san @t-wordiiish @sarahmaystock5578 @rachi-roo @mystwrites @mochigiggle @chibisstuff @imjusthere07 @giggly-toybox

Staaaaaaaaaaaare~

Ever since the battle at the Swordsmith Village, Muichiro had been working on and improving his social skills. He greeted people properly now, spoke up during meetings and whatnot, and even smiled- something that, according to Lady Kocho: “Shocked everyone at the Hashria meeting so much they all nearly dropped dead.”

Tanjiro had a hard time imagining it, but the thought of Giyu falling over like a shocked statue did make him giggle.

Their relationship going forward was also a surprise. Tanjiro didn’t think anything would come from that battle, but here he was, sitting with Muichiro at the Butterfly estate having tea. In the past few months, a slow but steady friendship had begun to form.

Staaaaaaaaaaaaaaare~

Even if it had a few…hiccups to overcome.

“Umm….Muichiro? Is there something wrong?” Tanjiro couldn’t help but ask after another long moment of eye contact coming from the Hashira. That was a thing Muichiro did a lot; he just kinda….stared at people. At first, Tanjiro chalked it up to zoning out; it was a regular thing Muichiro did before- perhaps old habits carried over?

But this- this was different. His eyes weren’t glossed over, and he didn’t seem shaken up when Tanjiro spoke. He looked focused- like he was trying to tell something to him through his eyes.

“Tanjiro.” That was another thing; this oddly meaningful way Muichiro said people’s names. It was as if he was trying to remind himself what they were.

“Yes?” Tanjiro asked again, more curious than anything.

“.....Can I tickle you?” That shocked him. Tanjiro blinked, taking in the odd request as he felt his face flush. He wasn’t used to people asking so…directly.

“Erm…why?” Better to get more info!

“Mr. Tengen and Mr. Rengoku-” There was a soft hitch to his voice. Muichiro looked sad at the mention of the later. “They used to do that all the time to me. I never…” He waved his hands, shaking his head free from his sudden thunk. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a tickle fight with anyone. Would you…have one with me?”

Tanjiro watched him curiously, the beginnings of an easy smile pulling on his mouth. Something about the whole thing reminded him of his younger siblings. “Well…okay. I suppose it’s only fair given how often they tickled you.” Muichiro perked up, earning a laugh from the other. “But you only get so long before I get to tickle you back!”

“Thanks, Tanjiro.” Muichiro smiled- a breathtaking sight. Tanjro smiled back as he laid down, tucking his arms behind his head. “So erm…where do I begin?”

“I’m not telling you that! The fun part of a tickle fight is to find someone’s tickle spots.” Tanjiro winked at him, closing his eyes. “You’ll know when you find a good spot.”

Muichiro nodded, a look of determination on his face. He loomed over Tanjiro, considering where to go. He rested his hands against his sides the way he’d seen the other Hashira do. “Like…this?”

Tanjiro hummed, waiting. Muichiro pressed in.

“AH!” The brunette yelped, wincing. Muichiro’s fingers felt like metal pressing into him. “Too much, too much!” He cried, gently catching the other’s hands. “Gentler, Mui- like you’re petting a cat.”

“Oh?” Muichiro tried again, his finger far lighter. Perhaps too light. It felt like a bug was crawling on his skin. “Is that better?”

“Hm…maybe a bit more pre-ehehehehehehhesure!” There it was! Muichiro perked up at the sound, encouraged. “Thehehehhere you gohoohhoho! Juhuhuhust like thahahahhhat!”

“Oh wow…so this is tickling someone.” Muichiro mused, something proud in his voice. “Interesting.”

Turns out- Muichiro was a fast learner. Where Tanjiro figured he’d have a few moments to prepare before the worst came, he soon found himself laughing like a child as the other’s fast fingers danced across his skin, pressing and pinching and scratching- unlocking new techniques in the span of five seconds. “Muhuhuuhuhuhuhichihihihihihihihiro! Ahehahahahhahaha yohohohohou’re dohohohoohohohing grehahahhahhahat!”

“I know.” The other puffed with pride. “Say- where are you really ticklish?”

“I’m nohohohohot theheheellin-EHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!” The brunette all but squealed when his belly was pressed into, making him curl up like a bug.

“Found it.”

“MUHUHUUHUHUICHIHIHIHIRO PLEAHHAHAHHASE!” Tanjiro cried, cheeks rosy and eyes misty. “STAHHAHHAHAP!”

At the cry, the Mist Hashira did so. Pulling his hands back, he sat back and watched as Tanjiro curled onto his side, gasping for air. “Did I go too far?”

“Nohohooho, noohohoho…yoohohou’re okay.” He reassured, waving a tired hand. “Juhuhuhust need a mihihihinute.” In time, the tightness in his chest loosened, and he found himself buzzing with warmth as he turned back to the younger man. “You did pretty good- that was some serious tickling!”

“Hard to say, really. You’re just super ticklish.” Muichiro poked him in the belly, earning a squeak. “I won’t know for sure until I tickle someone less sensitive.”

“True, true. But for now- it’s time for payback!” Tanjiro smiled deviously as he tackled the other, pinning him to the floor. “Let me ask YOU, Muichiro. Where are you most ticklish?”

“.....I don’t remember.” Frustration touched teal eyes. Tanjiro smiled patiently at him, squeezing his shoulder.

“No worries- like I said; that’s the fun of tickle fights! We’re just gonna have to find them all!” He raised wiggling fingers, eyes dancing with glee at the giddy anticipation playing on Muichiro’s face. “Get ready, cause here I come!”

Thanks for reading!

[wrencatte]

mini-fic 4 (ish)!!

pre-Survivor Bravo and Gabs learn about Cal's psychometry - and I give Cal a sniper rifle. Bravo POV. 1.3k

Cal smiles and says, “Blasters aren’t the Jedi way,” in that tone that he thinks makes him sound all-wise and mysterious, but Bravo’s heard that same tone when he tried to cover up his latest cooking disaster, so he doesn’t. buy it for a second. Gabs doesn’t even bother covering her laugh. Cal pointedly shifts to turn his back on her, focusing his attention on Bravo instead.

The pilot grins and taps the table between them, bringing the Jedi’s focus back to the dismantled DH-447 rifle on it. “C’mon, man. What happens if you lose your fancy lasersword?”

“I won’t lose it.”

“But if you did?”

“I have the Force.”

“Cal.”

“Bravo.” But Cal’s laughing, which makes him feel better about needling him like this. “I seriously doubt I’ll ever end up in a situation where I’ll have to snipe someone. And, if for some reason, I end up without my ‘saber, I’ll probably pick up a normal blaster or something. I don’t need to know how to use that.”

“You never know,” Braco insists. Cal sighs. “Listen. We’ve landed on a perfectly good planet to give it a shot. There’s no one around to see you if you’re that worried about embarrassing yourself.”

Cal glares at him. Bravo just smirks and shrugs unrepentantly, recognizing that look. “You are the worst,” the Jedi hisses, gesturing for the pilot to reassemble the rifle, a resigned expression on his face. Bravo does so gleefully, expertly slotting everything into place.

“You’re too easy, Kestis,” Gabs calls out from her spot in the shade of the Mantis’s nose where she’s scrolling through a holopad. “He didn’t even bring out the tooka-eyes.” BD-1 whistles his agreement. She reaches up a pats the droid’s head.

Cal huffs. “You’re supposed to be on my side,” he tells his droid. BD beeps a happy since when that makes him laugh and shake his head. Gabs cackles loudly.

Bravo finishes reassembling the rifle, does his final checks, and hands it over. Cal hesitates then takes it up, fingers fluttering over the weapon carefully.

“You’ve shot with this?”

“Dozens of times.”

“You hit your target?”

He throws up a vulgar gesture towards the Jedi first, then to the laughing Gabs. “Yes, you asshole. I hit my target every time. Why?”

Cal smirks. “Just checking.” There’s an odd look on his face, one Bravo’s seen before, but has never been able to place. His touch stutters on the cheek piece, brows furrowing. “Got something to paint a target with?”

Bravo nods and grabs the pointer before they head towards the edge of the canyon cliff. Gabs isn’t far behind, bringing her holopad to record it along with BD-1’s perspective. Below them is a meandering river, framed on either side with low, spindly plants and tall, wide trees with a sparse number of leaves, making them the perfect targets.

They watch the Jedi clear a spot of rocks and set up the tripod for the rifle, moving so quickly and efficiently that Bravo is immediately suspicious that he’s been duped. He scowls and crosses his arms, shooting a glance at Gabs, who looks confused and just shrugs.

“Cal,” she drags out, tapping the back of his boot. “Were you lying? You look like you know what you’re doing.”

“Wasn’t lying,” Cal answers distractedly as he lays on his stomach and peers through the scope. “I haven’t survived this long without knowing how to use a blaster, but I swear I’ve never shot a rifle before. Paint me a target, Bravo.”

Bravo lays next to him and paints a tree. “Eight-forty,” he murmurs from the read out. The projection is bright this close up, just a couple hundred meters shy of the lower range of this particular rifle model. The further the target, the fainter the paint, but it’s not really meant for long distances, unlike the rifle. The read out tells him wind resistance and whatnot, but he keeps his mouth shut, curious to see what the Jedi is going to do.

Cal sits there for longer than is smart, but they’re not on a mission or in active combat, so Bravo doesn’t say anything. His breathing is even, almost like meditation. Another second ticks by, then another, and then Cal is squeezing the trigger with the sort of patient skill that takes people years to learn. Must be a Jedi thing.

The shot goes high, hitting just the edge of the paint. Cal swears in Huttese, insulting himself, which just makes Bravo’s jaw drop. If what Cal said is true and he’s never picked up a rifle before with the intention to shoot, then he has no reason to be mad at that shot.

“What the hell?” Gabs gasps. “You were lying!”

Cal laughs, highly entertained. “Nope, still not lying. Paint me another.”

Bravo does. “Ten-thirty.”

He doesn’t pause as long to squeeze the trigger this time, three heartbeats, and the bolt hits the target a couple centimeters from bullseye. “One more.”

“Fourteen-twelve. Far as we can go.” The canyon isn’t wide enough. It’s impossible that Cal’s getting better the further they go out. Bravo refuses to believe he’s never done this before.

Sure enough, even with the paint faded at this distance, the Jedi hits bullseye. Cal moves off the scope, expression purely ‘loth-cat who got the cream.’ He clicks the safety on and rolls onto his back, thrusting his hands up triumphantly with a giddy laugh.

Gabs kicks the bottom of his boots obnoxiously. “Hey! No! You were definitely lying. What the hell was that?”

Bravo’s still staring at the last tree. “I’m with Gabs on this one.”

Cal props himself up on his elbows, surveying them with a suddenly somber expression. Gabs stops kicking his heels, getting serious. BD-1 boop-whirls comfortingly…encouragingly? Cal smiles fondly at him. Bravo sits up cross-legged, waiting patiently. Cal keeps secrets. They all do. The two of them have only been working with the Jedi for a couple months now, and Bravo knows there’s a lot more going on in that head of his than either of them are ever going to know, but this seems more serious than when he told them about Bracca, or what’d happened during the Purge.

“I have this ability,” he starts slowly, eyes flicking between them as if he’s still making the decision to trust them, Bravo realizes. “It’s called psychometry. People, events, experiences, they leave an imprint in the Force, an echo of the past. I touch something and I can feel it happen.”

Bravo glances at the rifle. “You felt me shooting that?”

Cal nods. “I was in your place. It’s not the first time I’ve gotten an echo from a rifle, but this is the first time I’ve tried to use one, or a dozen, to shoot it. You’re a good shot.”

“So are you,” Bravo says dazedly.

Gabs tilts her head. “Is that how you knew the vault codes back on that mission on Nar Shaddaa? An echo?”

“Yep,” Cal says, popping the ‘p.’

“Huh, that’s really useful.”

Cal laughs, throwing his head back at the force of it. “Yep,” he repeats, eyes crinkling at the corners. Gabs smiles back. The Jedi doesn’t laugh nearly as much as she thinks he should. He has a nice smile.

“What other skills does that work on?” Bravo can’t help but ask.

“Most of them. I’m limited by the length of the echo and, you know, my human-ness, but if I get enough echoes of the same thing, or they’re long enough, it gets pretty stuck in my head.”

“That’s really useful.”

Gabs kicks Cal’s boot again to bring his focus on her. “Thanks for trusting us with that,” she says sincerely. “I know you Jedi are a mistrustful bunch (for a good reason, I know) and we’ve only known each other for a little while, so thanks. It means a lot.”

The crinkle around Cal’s eyes stays there as he smiles bright enough Bravo makes a joke about needing sunshades. “You’re trustworthy people. BD likes you.” The droid whistles his agreement. “See? Now, c’mon, let’s get back to what we were doing before Bravo got all ‘Cal needs to learn how to shoot.’ Saw wants us on Norsid in three weeks.”

[zarkishere]

I remembered so uh have Ruben rant

TW// Gore, sadism

One of my favorite things when making an OC is thinking 'what do they eat?'. I don't know why, I just find it really entertaining! For example, Colin (my SM OC) is a vegan (which is funny to me, since he's around cannibals all the time), Winger eats mostly meat (small mice and whatnot, since he's a bird of prey), and Ruben...well, he's particular for an interesting reason!

You see, Ruben has ageusia...what's that? well, it means that he can't taste things. No sweet, sour, salty, bitter or whatever else. (which means his sense of smell is also fucked up)

He was born that way--no one else in his family has that, he didn't get an infection or anything, he was just born that way. Because of this, his preference in food comes from the texture of the meal, rather than the taste since he...yknow...can't taste things.

The thing is that in his whole life, Ruben NEVER found out that people Actually Taste Things. He thought when people said 'this food tastes good' they meant the texture, and that it was just some odd language thing where when you're talking about food you don't say texture, you say taste! (he's a little stupid, bear with him)

BECAUSE he relies on the feeling rather than taste or smell, he really likes trying new foods! No 'taste' in the way in case of putrid food, just pure texture. After he saw his mom get killed and ended up alone, even in the short while he was in solitude, it took a toll on him. Ruben is a social creature, so...being alone is the worst kind of torture for him.

At first, hunting was a bit disgusting, and he wasn't particularly good at it at first, so it was even worse. It made him feel guilty. Poor beast, innocent of any blame, getting killed and cooked (poorly) for a sinners' survival. But he slowly started finding it more and more interesting, biting and scratching as if he was a monster himself when the prey dared to fight back. Putting his hands in their guts, feeling the dying warmth of the carcass...not in a sexual way, please don't be weird.

Of course, this moved on to humans too. The feel of the knife at a mans throat, the sound of the blood starting to bubble at their throat, the panic in their eyes... Ruben REALLY enjoys killing with knives. It feels more personal.

His honor is pretty neutral, I suppose. He's not a good person, not a horrible one (although you might think so because of what I just said LOL), BUT, in the main AU his honor is mid-high....why? because of Javier. They talked about morals, helping people, friends and family, revolution! and it really helped Ruben become a better person. He's a follower, tell him something, and he'll stick with it. With Javier, Ruben turns his sadness into creativity; embroidery, sewing, baking, hunting. He's loyal, kind, still a bit sadistic, but he follows Charles and Javier, and they say that's wrong, so he keeps himself in line.

But...in alternate AU's where he doesn't start dating Javier... Ruben sticks with the Callander brothers. And in those AU's he turns out MUCH WORSE. With the callanders that sadness becomes rage. rage at everyone, at the government for taking what he loved, at the people around him for not understanding him, at himself for becoming this THING... He becomes a true sadist (not that he wasn't before, it's just that he lets himself indulge in it). His appearance is different too, much more scarred and a lot angrier.

He kills for fun, hunts people down for sport, just to see how long they can run. He becomes an issue for the van der Linde gang, and after the Callanders die, he just...leaves...

It's not that they don't talk about all that stuff, it's just that for Mac and Davey (who have been alone most of their life, always fighting for survival) life is just dog vs dog. It doesn't matter who you're killing, it's not personal, it's just to survive...and Ruben only hears the 'it doesn't matter who you're killing' part LOL

wahh wahh I'm not proofreading sorry I've been trying to write this since like 10am (it's now 1.30pm) but I kept getting distracted waa waa

[5iyoomi]

Hii I’ve never requested anything like this before so if this is too vague please lmk 😭 Can you do general nsfw headcanons for Timerra (Fire Emblem Engage) with an inexperienced reader who’s basically just letting Timerra take the lead? If you can make the reader transfem I’d appreciate it since I’m transfem but it’s totally okay if no. Again you don’t have to write this I just love Timerra so much and I need more content with her ;w; ty

Hihi it's not too vague so don't worry! I'm transmasc myself so I wasn't exactly sure how you wanted it written (i.e in reference to anatomy and stuff) so I kinda just went with the flow? Hopefully it's okay! ^-^ Sorry this took me a bit to get to I've been caught up with work and whatnot

Timerra NSFW HCs

warnings: transfem reader - 'sex' used for anatomy, making out, some fingering, idk general smut stuff lmao wc: 440

CAN I JUST SAY I LOVE HER SM AHHHH she'd be vv accepting and welcoming of your identity. I have tons of sfw hcs for that but that's another post....

I think Timerra herself would be kind of inexperienced, though maybe not as much as you are. But she comes off as confident so you're surprised when she tells you that

She won't rush you into anything you're not ready for, but when you pull her aside one night with want written all over your face, the first thing she asks is if you're really sure

She wouldn't want to unknowingly hurt or trigger you, so she'll try to be careful with her words if you say yes. Chances are she'll also just ask you what you're comfortable with that way she can make everything go as smoothly as possible

She'd start out really really slow, pressing gentle kisses to the corner of your mouth before claiming your lips. She always makes sure she's aware of your every reaction, mentally noting what you do or don't seem to like. She'll lace your fingers together and give your hand small squeezes

It'll almost be unbearable by the time she finally pulls away from you that way you can both catch your breath, your chests heaving and eyes glossed over. Minutes turned into hours that she had you under her, taking her time to map out the shy but eager way you seek her touch out, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear and murmuring her name softly

When you give her the okay to go further, she's so sweet about it <3 she'll take as much time as you need her to, gently tugging down your skirt and stroking up and down your sides if you look scared or nervous

LOTS of praise and reassurance. If you need her to stop, then she will, and even if not she's still aware of your nonverbal signs and can tell if it's too much. She'll ease one slicked up finger into your hole, watching how your face scrunches up in a mixture of slight pain and pleasure, then still until you're begging her to keep going

She won't bring any attention to your sex if you don't want her to. Especially if it's something that you're insecure about. She wants you to know you're beautiful regardless of how you look, though

And she'll beat up anyone who says otherwise

"My pretty girl," Timerra smiles, kissing away the tears that threaten to fall down your cheeks. She's got two fingers inside of you now, the feeling foreign, odd, but you don't want her to stop. "You look so pretty like this, y'know?"

[rinyx]

synopsis: all you wanted to do was to sort things out with him and get rid of the weird awkward tension always lingering, but it seems that he had other plans…

pairings: male x reader

wc: 1.8k

cw: angst, breakup

a/n: hii!! this will be my first fic so i would really appreciate it if you read it and gave me any advice in my inbox!! much appreciated if you read it and liked!!

you sat down at the coffee shop waiting for him, you and him had been friends for a solid three months but within those three months you had became closer than you had with anyone else, you two were practically inseparable…, at one point.

you two would text each other nonstop if you couldn’t meet up, he would always make you play roblox with him and you guys would have daily competitions to see who would win the most dles… which included the flagle, globle, wordle, worldle, and the connections, often times he won, unsurprisingly. he was a total geography nerd, he knew basically all the flags by heart. he even made you play guess the flag on Roblox too. would it be crazy to say you two were ‘casual’ probably. you guys would often say “you missed each other”, stay up late till 4 am just to talk to each other, fall asleep on face time, sometimes while watching movies too. he would show you pictures and videos of his dog named, theo, a little wiener dog. you absolutely adored theo and would always ask to see videos of him whenever you got the chance. you guys also made asmr videos to send to each other just for fun even though they were totally low quality… but either way you both enjoyed making them. you guys had also made a pact between each other to always tell one another if they were feeling upset towards the other in any sort of way. this was mostly made because he got mad at you most of the time, well, all of the times, the reasoning behind it being that he was upset at you for not responding to him… you, unfortunately, were an avoidant texter. you wouldn’t text back most of your friends for hours if you didn’t feel like it.

probably an asshole move on your part, but it was just a part of who you were. unfortunately he was the opposite, whenever he didn’t respond to you for some time he would apologize profusely, saying how he feels so bad and whatnot. he would text you, spam you if you weren’t responding, multiple times and he would wait until you responded, even if you didn’t he never failed to say his good nights and good mornings to you. he soon enough realized he was too attached for his own good, he usually never felt upset at other if they didn’t respond but for some odd reason he did towards you, which led him to talking to a friend about it. To which they had diagnosed him with being too attached unfortunately, and you could do nothing but agree since it wasn’t wrong… but this past week has been an absolute wreck for you… the entire week all your emotions had been off, you were an absolute train wreck of emotions constantly sleeping to distract yourself from your own mind. worst of all, he was drifting, you could feel it from the way he texted, in fact this is how you always caught him if he was mad at you. you could sense it through his texts, the tension between them, how his energy had an obvious shift within. you confronted him about it multiple times asking him if he was mad or upset in any way, to which he always answered with a simple “no”. but he was drifting and you couldn’t do anything but try and grasp at what was still here. coming back to this moment, you decided it was time for you to actually try and talk it out because he clearly wasn’t trying for that which lead to this moment in the cafe.

“hey” you snapped your neck to look up at the figure standing over the table. “you’re here!!” you responded trying to sound as energetic as you could, trying your best to make light of the situation. “you said you had something to say?” he said and sat down on the chair across from you. “well…,”

you then continued to go on a ramble about how you often felt suffocated and drained whenever the person you’re texting isn’t reciprocating your energy, you tell him you know it’s a bad habit, how you want to fix yourself. but you’ve already created your own defense mechanism, whenever you feel unappreciated, or even annoying to the other you back away, distancing yourself from them. you tell him your biggest deepest insecurity, how you’re afraid to tell people things about you, afraid they’d think you’re stupid for your problems, that you’re being over dramatic, they think you’re annoying with your stupid problems, that they don’t want to hear. you’re afraid they’d leave you. and how he’s been acting recently has really made you think, has made you want to distance. as you finish your ongoing ramble you look up to meet his gaze, but you can’t quite make out what’s behind his mind. “well…” he starts. “I don’t know what to say to that…” your heart sinks to your stomach. you feel sick down to every last bone, you knew it you never should’ve done this, you never should’ve said anything. oh great he’s opening his mouth again. to say more. “you basically just said you don’t want to talk to me..?” he says with a slight confused tone “oh but it’s fine, I understand” no you don’t. you don’t understand at all. did you even listen to half of what I said you think to yourself too afraid to say it to his face “I hope you feel better in the future…?” he says trying to make the tension in the air lift. you sit there feeling your nose itch and eyes burn. uh oh. you’re going to cry aren’t you. you can’t. you absolutely cannot cry. if you cry you’ll probably never forgive yourself for it. you somehow start to muster coherent sentences “no… no, you don’t get it..? I only don’t want to talk to you sometimes because I get the impression from you that you don’t want to talk to me…???” at this point you can’t even look him in the eyes, afraid of what will happen if you do. “well… maybe” he pauses as if he thinking of what to say next as he does this you grip the edge of your chair, knuckles turning white. he starts again. “we… should just stop chatting… you did say that you felt weird, so…” as the words come out of his mouth you clench your eyes shut, and take a deep breath in, sighing as you open your eyes to look at him again.

“so, what you’re saying is that you don’t want to talk to me.” he opens his mouth and then closes it again as if he couldn’t answer this one simple question. you scoff, tears brimming your eyes threatening to spill out. “well… I’ve been trying to distance myself…” you take these words in for a moment trying to keep yourself as collected as you can…. “I’m sorry, I just…” your words feel lodged within your throat “why are you sorry” he always did this. he never let you say sorry, you both always told each other to stop saying sorry whenever one of you said it. you repeat the same question hoping to get a better response than just some attempt to dodge it. “I mean… I think it’s better if we don’t.” now, instead of gripping the chair you had now moved on into balling your hand into a fist, digging your nails into your skin, biting your lips, anything to stop yourself from crying in front of him, although you were pretty sure he could tell you were on the edge. you take another breath in a attempt to calm yourself before you speak once again “…okay. I’m sorry.” “why..?” you open your mouth once again “because. it’s my fault, I’m sorry.” oh great. now you’re just trying to do anything to get something out him, anything. “no… you’re good…?” you start to speak again without thinking “I should’ve never said anything.” his eyes softened slightly looking at you with pity. “what.., why??” “cause look at where it led us.” you said exasperated. “but… I think it’s good you said that?” you meet his gaze only to look back down again into your lap too afraid to try and analyze his face throughout this “no, it literally quite proved my point. opening up and being vulnerable with someone is just going to make them leave.”

oh great, now you were trying to guilt trip him. anything to make him stay…. “no…? that’s not the reason this is happening.” you sigh, already worn out. “then what’s the reason.” you say sternly “I’ve been trying to distance myself for awhile, I just… didn’t know how to say it. but it’s not like we’re never going to talk to each other again, I’m just, not going to talk everyday.” you make a shaky exhale as an attempt to balance yourself “… okay. I’m sorry.” he shakes his head as if annoyed… or at least that’s how you take it. “okay..! have fun on your trip! I really liked chatting with you…” he laughs and smiles awkwardly before saying “thank you, but… you’re saying all this as if we’re never going to talk again…” you start to ramble again. “ I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m so… I don’t know…? I don’t know how to process this, there’s so much I want to say but I don’t know how to say it in words… its just that, you got me too attached to you..??? I never text people on the daily let alone hourly but you came into my life and changed everything. and then you started distancing yourself and I just knew this was coming, I could feel it and it’s my fault for letting myself get hurt by this. I just don’t know why I’m so emotional I usually never cry about stuff like that…” you bring you arm to your eyes as an attempt to wipe away the tears, you chuckle and smile bitterly towards the ground too afraid to look at him. “I’m sorry… it’s just that… I only distanced myself because I got attached, and I thought you didn’t care…” you snap my neck up to meet his gaze with your panicked one “of course I cared..?? I cared a whole lot.” oh great, you could tell he was pitying you with his gaze. “I’m sorry…” he says. “stop apologizing.” is the last thing you say to him before you grab your bag and walk out the door leaving him to look at your back solemnly while you try to not bump into anything with the tears blurring your vision.

[camojacketfag]

How do you balance being yourself with being what other people want you to be because as a gay man I don't like seeing femininity in other gay men so I try to act masculine to make people like me more but then I feel like I'm being fake but it also repulses me to act gay as well. And I don't like how a lot of gay people use being gay as an excuse to act badly toward others and entitled to treat them badly. And then I go to stores and no one is acting friendly toward me and it makes me so upset because I just want people to like me and I don't like feeling left out and I feel like in America we have to degrade ourselves and try to look poor and sloppy to garner sympathy from people around us and it's so pathetic and even the rich dress poorly because they have such little respect for the public spaces they inhabit.

I went to the BMV recently and the lady was so fucking kind man. I was wearing my usual go to, camo shirt, boots, and whatnot and then I somehow talked about my past relationship with a guy and her entire demeanor changed. It was so quick too. And I spotted it like a motherfucker. Suddenly I could tell I wasn’t who she thought I was. Part of me felt incredibly frightened and embarrassed like how I usually feel being a f*g from the Midwest, yet I also felt a sudden surge of power over the situation like I’d never felt before. How fucking beautiful it was to subvert the image I portray and proudly declare my queerness. How uncomfortable I made someone feel for simply acknowledging that perhaps men who dress and behave “stereotypically” also can perhaps be as gay as I am. Before I would recoil in shame and anguish at the simple thought of my inferior existence for my “odd” sexual preference, but as time has gone by I’ve realized how amazing it can be to subvert someone’s entire rhetoric by simply existing. It all goes back to the fact that my parents and people who raised me never quite possibly provided a safe enough space for me to explore who it is I was. Femininity synonymously being tied to the gay experience is something worth celebrating and acknowledging but there’s also a part of us that never quite really gets to explore the depths of our masculinity simply because so many people assume that because we like men “we want to be women” such an odd and antiquated concept. Now that I’m older I’m using my time to explore the caverns of the man I’d like to be, sexuality aside. I find comfort and power in subverting what many expect of me. In the end man, you can be whoever the fuck you wanna be, once you find out who that is, you’ll realize that an odd glance or look isn’t gonna deter who it is you’ve molded. Queer. Feminine, masculine, entirely fluid, breaking the mold, turning it upside down, breaking its boundaries, until you can finally acknowledge your reflection in the mirror and like what you see. That’s all that matters man. The rest is just confetti. And please for the love of god or the fucking universe or whatever the fuck, BE KIND TO YOURSELF.

[hunterontheedge]

Could you tell more about Poppyseed Hattington? I'm assuming that she isn't exactly Evil per say?

This is going to be more text wall than images... so bear with me! But yes, I can definitely tell you more about her!

Poppyseed is a bit of an odd-one-out in her family. Debatably moreso than North (one of Princeton's kids). She wasn't born with any sort of strong magic so she mostly just powered along on her hands and some wheels until she grew up and got those spider leg prosthetics!

She's visibly closer to Puzzleman's... alternative... but doesn't share any relations with it! However, she did pick up physical coding from Puzzleman! She likes to take spaghetti code and optimize it, though in truth, coding is a side hobby and her actual role is that of a licensed Necromancer.

Poppyseed isn't a bad individual; she isn't evil by a long shot! A lot of the things she does benefits individuals! She'd even learned to manipulate bones with her mind, something she'd lovingly dubbed Osteokinesis, and uses it to mend wounds. However! She also will use it in battles, and she has access to plenty of bones where she lives... because she's living with the Necromancer. The evil one in ye olde kingdome. Yeah, that Necromancer.

Occasionally, Princeton comes by to kick some butt, but she never really gets into the fray. She isn't exactly down to fight her older brother, but will happily skew a knight on her razor-sharp legs! It's all in good fun, to her, and the knights don't exactly seem to mind.

There's a lot she keeps under wraps about herself. She hasn't even told anyone that she'd gone out of her way to experiment with her magic and ended up with six turds to look after. Her life is relatively obscured and kept out of public light and whatnot! And Poppy likes it this way!

[mx-pokirby]

Okay pls listen

I keep thinking about this, and I don't have a Monolith Soft/Platinum/Atlus-size team nor budget, so making my own dream game will have to wait, and a Tumblr post will have to suffice

Breaking the 4th wall is nothing new.

Theater shows where performers speak directly to the audience. Films that emphasis the viewers' roles as voyeurs to elevate the art. Games that dissect the nature of protagonism, using the medium to create ludonarrative harmony.

All good and deserving even more be made.

Yet in that final case, I feel there's often a disconnect in assuming the level of responsibility the game expects of you in "controlling someone against their will".

The protagonist will clearly be upset at you like "How dare you be here, controlling me? This is all your fault. Fuck you." and you kinda just gotta sit there like "Damn, sorry I guess but I didn't make any of this happen, buddy. I just held W and tried my best to help. If I left then literally everything would remain still. None of this is on me."

Cuz your expected to at least suspend your disbelief hard enough to forget that the game has a Creator(s) in the first place.

It's like a long-running mystery where you're supposed to just pretend there's no Supreme Mastermind. Everything just happens to be "like this" and you + your character just both gotta cope.

What I, as a creator, want to see is more works that actually call attention to that. About dissecting the concept of the Artist's role from within the Art itself.

There's so much potential in flipping the interrogation light inwards, to ask what forces motivated the Artist to create their world the specific way they ultimately chose, and have that be a key element in what the narrative is about.

Tangent time.

In my teens, I had an RPG Maker phase. I never made enough progress to release anything, but I was familiar enough with the program. Something about the process of making a game in RPG Maker is how easily I slipped into having fun just making up Skills and Items and whatnot. Just toss in some numbers, select an Effect, and write an endearing yet informative description.

In universe, characters may have to go through life-changing struggles to earn these dangerous powers which could upend their very worlds.

Yet you, the creator, are also able to create both their challenges & rewards with the ease of a keystroke. And any limitations thereof are purely choice, because Game Balance and Plot Structure is an expectation, but importantly not a hard rule.

Your paying audience may care about sudden nonsensical bullshit, but the characters within the narrative would certainly not care about any of the above as long as they can return to living peacefully ASAP. Conflict.

Allow me to give an example that's been occupying my brainspace as of late.

Skill Target: Self Type: Heal Effect (1): Heal HP - 100% Effect (2): Remove - All Debuffs Effect (3): Apply - Omni Buff Effect (4): Gain Status - Invincible Skill Learned At: Level 1 Skill Cost: 0 MP Skill Name: Lift Finger Description: Even if you can no longer stand, as long as the fire inside is still burning, you can find the strength to keep going and face any odds

In a story self-aware of its own mechanics, anyone can effectively obtain Godhood for nothing, and characters would have to grapple with that.

Especially in a work that gives similar/the same (even if stripped down) tools or creation / customization to the player that the creator(s) made the game with. Your Mario Makers, Little Big Planets, Mugen, Cladun, Magical High School Girl (ok maybe not technically but it still deserves a shoutout), anything that runs on Source.

I think a game that wants to tell a story deconstructing / dissecting the act of creation, while using its medium to the best of its ability, would need to require player creation be a core gameplay element.

Partly because, when you're given the freedom to implement overpowered Free Win Button nonsense like the example above, what's stopping you from pushing everything to the extreme?

Only arbitrary, socially/self-enforced rules, and the blurry bounds of what's actually possible. The same limitations as the Creator.

And if the power to Create is given not only to the player, but narratively something anyone can do, then all it takes is one person who values their own self-interest above the arbitrary rules for the rules to truly stop mattering, and everything gets out of hand. A mad-dash. Where the only reason to Create is to be as Extreme as possible. To make only The Most. So you're the best, and nothing can be better than you, nothing can knock you down.

There will still be those attempting to play by the rules, but they're a small few surviving against the odds. That drive to carve a meta out of a system never intended to have one. Assigning order to the chaos.

Only by looking back at the base fundamentals which everyone has elected to ignore can you really put everything into perspective.

Like

You see the points I'm making here, right? The reflections?

There's so many angles to take this initial concept from that I'm just enamored by. And while I'm not even certain I've done an acceptable job at trying to explain / justify this potential that I've been obsessing over, (this post (and my brain) has been cooking for two days and I'm tired), I hope I've at least scratched the surface for others to be inspired by too.

And on that note, I leave with one final piece of wisdom.

There is significantly high untapped artistic potential in the concept of the Self-Insert.

Fuck we gotta rewatch Re:CREATORS

[lucky-ladybugs-lovelies]

It’s funny how some things can be misremembered. It seems rather widespread to believe that KH Sephiroth is trying to get Cloud to give in to the dark, and I remembered it looking like that myself, until I rewatched their scenes again. Honestly, the majority of what he says to Cloud in KH2 is simply telling Cloud things about himself that he doesn’t want to accept. He only says a couple of odd things that could look like he’s trying to get Cloud to give into the darkness, like “The light doesn’t suit you.” And comments like that fit beautifully into my headcanon that he’s actually using reverse psychology on Cloud to try to get him to reject the darkness and decide he’s better than that.

As for things like that skirmish with Tifa? He definitely doesn’t want her interfering, but why? I suppose the simplest explanation is that he doesn’t want her turning Cloud to the light. Canon would seem to have us believe that. On the other hand … to fit into my headcanon, the explanation is that he wants Cloud to decide he wants the light on his own instead of because Tifa is influencing him to take that path.

And honestly, while I know at first glance canon seems to want us to believe Cloud is right and Sephiroth is the bad guy, it never fails to sound silly and ludicrous to me when he starts blaming Sephiroth for everything. He goes as far as saying it’s Sephiroth’s fault he “looks different,” i.e., changed his clothes and hair style.

Donald: I thought you looked kinda different, Cloud….

Cloud: If I do, it’s his fault.

snerk.

(Well, in his defense, he probably really means looking different as being more serious or upset or whatnot.) I love Cloud. I do. But just … LOL, KH writers. I wonder if they realize how silly it sounds. How am I supposed to take his plight seriously when he sounds like a five-year-old casting blame on a playmate on the playground?

Actually, I’m pretty sure they do realize exactly how ridiculous it sounds. It was said officially that while Cloud makes a big deal of looking for Sephiroth, he’s actually running from something. That is practically an admission that Cloud is using Sephiroth as an excuse! Sephiroth pegged exactly what Cloud was doing when he said, “You turn your back on the present and live in the past, because the light of the present is too much.”

Then there’s the question of who or what, exactly, Sephiroth is. If Sephiroth was really Cloud’s darkness, the comment “Your darkness keeps calling me back” makes no sense. He never actually claims to be Cloud’s darkness. He says he is Cloud, which could have the literal meaning Cloud thinks or a more symbolic meaning that Sephiroth sees them as similar people. Cloud is the one who pronounces Sephiroth his darkness, and Sephiroth’s first reaction is to mock that (“Oh, I’m part of you, am I?”) before he decides to run with it for whatever reason. Birth By Sleep shows Sephiroth was actively known as a hero when Cloud was still a little kid. Highly unlikely, then, that Sephiroth is literally Cloud’s darkness. He’s just a man with unclear motives. And since KH often shows us that nothing is as it seems, it’s even possible that something similar to my headcanon could be true and Sephiroth is actually trying to help Cloud instead of hurt him.