#the fact that its projection is just like. a little bonus. for me.

[martyrbat]

re last post redacted tag its literally so funny because i an too self aware to ignore that yeah this is just me straight up protecting my trauma BUT at the same time i know him and this did happened, he told me it himself

[krysmcscience]

At long last: either an alternate explanation for or continuation of my prior comic regarding how Bill was ABSOLUTELY naked in Ford's karaoke night drawing. (Because errors in art do not exist. Artists do not make mistakes. So if you see any in this comic, No You Do Not.)

I am so normal about these old dorks.

I'm not really clear on exactly when Bill started throwing his desperation book at Ford just like a needy ex do, but I find it extremely funny to imagine it happening literally the day of or after the makeshift funeral. Bill just gets this weird sense of 'Ford is taking steps to move on' and CANNOT FUCKING ABIDE.

I hope you enjoy all the goofy things I added to each page of Bill's sad spieling. (Everything SHOULD be readable so long as you view the full size, but I have added basically this whole little fanfic in the image descriptions, LMAO, which lays out all the little written notes and such.) Also don't ask how Bill managed to sneak that vampire pen in there. I have no idea, and honestly? I don't wanna know.

Oh, and a little bonus comic:

Of course Bill would take it as flirting. Because between the two of them, Bill is the bigger masochist By Far. :)

Also I have continued applying The Good Place logic to any of Bill's attempts to swear. Case in point, one last bonus image, this time with a motivational line from my slapdash Theraprism OC, EV-01:

Yes, its name is just 'love' backwards. No, I will not be taking any feedback on this. Yes, EV-01 was only ever assigned to Bill's case due to the Theraprism being desperate to make some progress in rehabilitating him. No, it did not work anywhere close to staff's expectations - Bill didn't even appreciate EV-01's matching fondness for bowties! (He claimed the fondness to be "cultural appropriation" and insisted he'd been traumatized by it.)

Anyway, if you like my stuff, reblogs are very much appreciated, and if you really really like it, perhaps consider my commissions or yeeting a teeny tiny tip my way? I am trying to recoup over 500 dollars in vet bills, ahaha... 🙃

In other news, I loved all the fun tags people added to the prior naked-karaoke comic (such as 'the hat and bow-tie stay ON during sex' and the classic '[insert keysmash here]', as well as the many amused/bewildered remarks about how I either made the bricks a piece of clothing or just straight up peeled Bill's skin off). However, I think my favorite thing by far was the several people losing their shit over the fact that I gave Bill toes. Like, excuse me? The magical talking triangle can have fingers but not toes??? Since when was that a rule????? 🤣 (Also the one person who reblogged with the cropped panel where Bill's fishnets pants are falling off to ask why Bill peed himself. Dude, I want to examine your brain...?)

Okie-dokie, I'm sick of looking at all of this stuff now and I'm off to go to work, after which I will either scribble some more goofy "Billford" comics or perhaps draw my lame human!Bill in Situations, idk yet. Maybe I'll even finally draw more than just a single other person's human!Bill...? Who knows, but I sure hope I can mix it up a little and not turn whatever I draw into a month-long fukken project. >:\

[abyssalzones]

can you tell us about your interpretation of the better world universe!!!! especially curious how stan/mystery trio works into it

hell yesssss I definitely can. ABW is maybe my favorite niche gf thing and probably the only "AU" I care about but that may be due to the fact that it's an AU that exists in the canon and we know so little about it. so it has an established foundation that you're left to fill in the details with yourself... it's like a poke bowl to me. you can put anything in there

and since I felt like it here's a bonus pic of them living their best lives pestering ford

[explanation-y stuff under ze cut because I got very longwinded]

as for specifics of how I see everything working out, there's a few key points that establish why things happened differently from canon, the most important being:

Stan agrees to hide journal #3 somewhere

Ford reunites with fiddleford and they begin working together again

both of these are already confirmed in canon, the first being the most obvious "schism" between timelines. literally everything in ABW is the way it is because stan made a different decision. kind of crazy in terms of its implications: I feel like that moment in the basement is a really good example of how stan gets so few opportunities to shape her own life (while ford is in the picture...) because of her role as the 'black sheep' twin. it's not exactly a premeditated decision to push ford into the portal, it's her acting on feelings that have been bubbling unaddressed under the surface for 10-something years at that point, and only then does she have any sort of power over the "narrative" of both her life and the story itself, something that from her pov has been ford's story. and in the canon timeline, she says no.

so like, what the hell made her say yes in ABW's timeline? this question kind of haunts me because I feel like it has to be entirely dependent on what the inside of stan's head looked like at the time. it's possible something influenced her, but overall I think it's more interesting if ford did and said all the exact same things up until this point and it really was entirely dependent on stan's decision internally.

so stan says yes, goes on a big trip to the other side of the world somehow, and buries journal 3 somewhere probably never to be found again. yay! but, uh, going on a trip like ford was suggesting would... take weeks. that would leave ford alone again. and not to have my established thoughts informed by new material or anything but bill did give him 72 hours.

so, next order of business: how in the fuck would ford convince fiddleford to rejoin him??? I'm unsure between journal 3 and tbob's information how ford may have tried to reach out to him but it seems like fiddleford was pretty adamant about staying away from that guy, out of guilt or fear of bill/the portal or both. I don't think logically it would just be a matter of ford calling him enough times or finding out where he lives- and I think that's kind of getting away from the point of why ABW is the way it is too. if stan is suddenly making decisions that are influencing ford's life, I think it would be similarly interesting if fiddleford also possessed some unique autonomy in this scenario.

aka I think ford got fucked up badly (possibly involving losing an eye) and fiddleford found him half-dead while trying to burn his house down. [mabel voice] romance!

to clarify: I don't think fiddleford is obligated to take care of ford. a major part of him leaving the project was finally making the decision to leave a situation that was hurting him, that he'd been staying in entirely because he still cared about ford and felt on some level he could still help him (which gets broken with "I don't need you!") and I think that's a very reasonable decision on his part. but I also do have to think about all the times ford has been "the hero" in situations where fiddleford ends up hurt and helpless because of something traumatizing. I think it'd be fascinating to see that reversed and have fiddleford actively making the difficult, messy decision to take care of that guy even when they're on miserable terms. and so begins like a solid week of these two desperately trying to look out for eachother in a nightmare scenario where one of them probably needs to go to a hospital + keeps getting possessed off and on and the other is going through the worst addiction/withdrawal cycle of his life irt the memory gun. yay! (part of the reason this even works To Me also is heavily informed by the lack of secrets: if fiddleford is actively dressing that guy's wounds he can't really keep it all to himself anymore. crushingly intimate perhaps...)

stan gets back eventually. such is the context of this pic

from there it's a nebulous grab-bag of things I think could happen up to the foundation of the institute.

how do all three of these incredibly fucked up individuals get along? well they don't but then they do.

how do they get bill out of ford's head without performing amateur brain surgery? idk. my best guess is a fiddleford and stan bonding trip into ford's mindscape that potentially helps answer the first question. possibly utilizing the memory gun. shrugs.

what's up with that one picture you drew of parallel fidds holding the memory gun up to ford's head? well. okay that one might or might not be something that actually happened but the idea was just that ford is coping badly with a few specific things and I liked the idea of fiddleford "holding onto" something for him to remember and work through later when he's ready to deal with it, it's an interesting reversal of how he's normally more of a memory sink.

from the point in canon about them stabilizing the portal so that bill can't use it to get into their dimension anymore onward, I think it just becomes a matter of them living the lives they could've always had in canon without realizing it. hence "a better world." some cool tidbits I like to think about:

stan gets to transition much earlier (late 1990's perhaps?) and probably starts going by "lee" instead

she's also the institute's CMO and is mostly in it for going on business trips abroad with ford. and the money. obviously.

the institute probably also legitimately changes the world on a sociopolitical scale outside of just interdimensional travel since their research renders them uniquely untouchable and all three of them are trans (I'm cartoon logic-ing a little bit here just let me have this one)

ford is the eccentric bill nye esque face of the company, fiddleford is the backbone. that isn't to say ford doesn't do anything as I think he'd always moreso be in it for the science than the fame (though it is nice to be more than comfortable financially) but it's an open secret fiddleford keeps tabs on literally everything, he's still very security-oriented.

the northwest family now has a more prominent ongoing rivalry with the pines family that could be very funny to think about. they've taken all the LOGGING JOBS with their damn SCIENCE

part of the reason I thought ford should lose an eye is because I think having him wear an eyepatch would be a neat way to parallel stan's "role" as mr. mystery visually! stan wears an eyepatch for no legitimate reason to keep up appearances as a schlocky tourist trap host, but it also alludes to her being more than she seems under the surface. ford's eyepatch does sort of have a legitimate reason to exist, but he also could just wear his glass eye and it would probably be less "conspicuous." he chooses the eyepatch instead because it's part of his image as Stanford Pines, Founder of Oddology, and because it keeps him safe. there's also a little residual scarring there from damage to his eyelid/tarsal plate which could easily represent him hiding the more "damaged" aspects of himself under his successes. ouch.

I'm unsure if ford and stan would ever feel comfortable getting back in touch with their parents. I know a lot of people go that route with fan material but I don't think they should have to. I think they're much happier now having healed the rift between them on their own and getting to live successful lives for themselves, rather than to prove something to their father.

that being said I do think fiddleford gets in touch with emma-may and his son again and they end up on better terms with time and a Lot of effort. tate's family is now composed of his father, mother, "uncle" ford (in the ye olde gay closeted sense of referring to your dad's partner as an uncle), and auntie lee, and I like to think they go out on trips to the lake together often :]

also ford and fiddleford tie the knot unofficially (in the eyes of the government anyway) in 1990. owed to stan somehow getting "ordained" as a rabbi. don't ask me how.

the pines twins start visiting the institute from a younger age than they do irt visiting stan in the show-- but they're only permitted to come along on heavily-supervised interdimensional excursions once they turn 12. cue antics!

anyway, hopefully this extremely longwinded and loosely structured mess helped answer your question. I like ABW sooo so so much you guys

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 23

You're just so frustrating.

Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, fluff

Length: 1k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

Callob with @euphoricfilter !

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Fuck this.

Jungkook refuses to believe that that was how he proposed to you- he won’t aknowledge it, eating his breakfast cereal with a pout on his face.

„Jungkook, come on.“ You laugh, sitting across from him. „I told you it was perfect-„ you say, though he shakes his head, beginning to talk before he can properly swallow- which makes him choke, and you laugh as he coughs up the stray bits of food that entered the wrong tube.

„I don’t care, it sucked.“ He denies, tears on the edges of his eyes as he drinks some water.

„I mean I did suck you-„ you start, causing him to send a glare your way, but you just sigh. „Jungkook come on. It doesn’t matter to me how you asked me- the fact that you did makes me happy already!“ you tell him, before you tap his bowl. „Now eat your cereal or it’ll get soggy.“

He does- but that still doesn’t lift his mood at all.

He doesn’t really have time to figure out another masterplan like last time, since he’ll have to get back to work soon to not make anybody mad enough to slap some god awful project onto his table to be done before the new year- but maybe he can still come up with something memorable. There’s still some money in the bank, and he’s soon to get his december bonus for the holidays, so maybe a fancy date? Now that he thinks about it, you never went to one together. He doesn’t even really own a suit.

He should get one. And you a pretty dress. But not one that’s too expensive, because he’ll surely break it later back home.

Searching online for a fitting suit and dress for you both during his break, he doesn’t even notice you entering the room- quietly, thinking he might still be working, to put a plate of warm food down for his late lunch, and only now does he notice he’s been working for hours on end again without a proper break. And before he can even thank you properly, you’ve exited his office room again, door clicking into the hinge, as he looks on his plate.

Dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets, and ketchup squirted down in the shape of a heart.

That's it. That's the last straw.

He exits his office with his plate in hand, setting it down on the coffee table next to yours as you were just about to turn on the TV, looking at him all surprised. “Everything ok-“

“You’re doing it again!” He complains, standing there like some upset Sims character, pouting and brows all frowned.

“I’m.. what?” You ask, confused. “..but you love dinosaurs when you’re upset-“

“I do!” He whines out, and you’re halfway expecting him to stomp his leg like a rabbit any second now, as he stands there with his hands clenched to fists. “I really do, and I also love it when you put my ketchup in a little heart there.” He says.

“…okay?” You chuckle, unsure. What’s he getting at?

He sits down next to you, and begins to eat, quietly. You’re not sure what’s wrong with him, but he’s sometimes like this, sometimes he doesn’t make a lot of sense. Or maybe he does, and he just can’t properly explain it well.

“You do-“ he starts, taking a sip of some water to wash down his food, as he shakes his head at his plate. “-You always do so many things for me.” He rants, almost angrily. “like now. You always know how to pick me up when I’m down, or you just-“ he picks one of the dinosaurs up to dip its tail into the ketchup, “-or you just do stuff like this randomly, and it’s the sweetest shit ever!” He exclaims, glaring at his food. “ridiculous.!” He shakes his head again, biting the tail off.

“Yeah cause, I love you?” You giggle, not quite sure what he’s getting at, still.

“Bu’ I ‘ove u ‘oo!” He responds agitated with a whine, before he almost chokes on his unswallowed bite, making you push the glass of water closer that he eagerly takes to help push down his food so he can talk properly. “I love you too, but you’re so good at it, it’s unfair!” He complains, making you laugh.

“How can someone be good at loving someone else?” You snort, pushing his shoulder when he looks at you with his brows wiggling suggestively.

“No but, in all honesty.” He says, sighing as he stares at the last dinosaur waiting to be eaten. “You’re so good at like.. Doing stuff for me. Everything you do is always so special.” He mumbles.

“...so you feel bad now because your proposal wasn’t special enough?” You wonder, and he shrugs, defeated, and nods. “Jungkook, you do know that the way you proposed is literally.. The most uniquely Jungkook-thing you could’ve done? Everyone goes on fancy vacations to propose!” You tell him, and he only hesitantly moves his face to look at you, back arched as he sits with no tension in his body. “Jungkookie, baby, it really doesn’t matter to me.” You press, hand on his thigh-

And it’s then that he notices, and jumps up to run into the bedroom, roaming in one of the drawers for something. “What is it now?” You laugh, as he stubbornly tugs at your hand before he stops.

“Wait which hand goes the ring on again?” He wonders to himself. “And which finger..?” He says, making you giggle, before you tell him where it goes. And the moment it’s on, he stares at it for a good while, just.. Letting it happen.

He’s really doing this. He’s going to marry you.

“We’re gonna have to kind of.. Talk about how we wanna marry.” You say, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Can’t we marry here at home? With bowser?” He wonders, and you laugh at him, pulling him closer to hold his cheeks as you kiss him.

“Like I said.” You giggle, lovestruck. “It really doesn’t matter to me, as long as I’m marrying you.”

[cellophaine]

Sad Girl (Part II)

Read Part I

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, not a happy ending.

Author's Note: Sooo, I severely overestimated how much free time I would have, and as it turns out, I have had not a lot and will have none free time for the next three weeks. My irl project is quite literally consuming me on top of the packing for an across the globe trip, so I won't be able to work actively on any writing project at all 🥲 I will be back to writing and posting in late fall/early winter! (hopefully)

P/S: I might write a part 3 to make up for the angst but uhm ... please don't come for me over the ending 🫣

GIF Credit

Judging by the sound of people and traffic outside, Matt knew he had slept in. Not that it mattered since it was a Saturday, and he had nowhere to be, especially after a night of going all out on a celebration with Foggy and Karen on the occasion of winning a big case for their client. With the new bonus lined in their pockets, Foggy gave a passionate speech about the grand plan of upgrading the office; Karen daydreamed about a proper heater for the upcoming winter while Matt zoned out, occasionally chiming in with a witty remark. He didn't enjoy his win as much as he should, as a part of him wished he could see you and tell you about it instead. He knew you would be happy for him and listen to every detail, just like you did whenever he told you about his day, when he wasn't in a hurry to leave.

The talking clock announced the time and date, and as Matt shifted back to the bed, a thought struck him. It had been three months since his last illicit affair with you. Matt sighed, pressing his face into the pillow at the thought of you. He had been thinking about you more and more every day. Matt blamed it on his coming to the acceptance that what you and he shared had long dissolved into thin air, becoming something that never was before you met. But the history was still there, at least for him. It didn't get to disappear. It stayed in his head, haunting him like a shadow at the edge of his conscience, waiting for a chance to occupy his thoughts whenever he found his mind strayed, and if he had to admit it, he didn't want to let it go. Matt replayed the last night he spent with you over and over, prying for little details of what had gone wrong, only to come up with none. You were curt with him, and the rebuttal he came up with was you were tired. You even said it yourself. Matt left you alone that night after that, and he even made sure that the two of you were okay. But he guessed it wasn't enough, as you completely shut him out afterward.

From time to time, Matt would stop by your place to check on you, to see if the wind chime returned, only to be disappointed by its absence. He would perch on the rooftop of your building, listening to the sound of your soft laugh alongside your favourite show. Matt was so close, yet so far away from you. He had gotten used to the silence, but he hadn't used to not seeing you, being around you. Even though a small part of him was crestfallen that you didn't seem to miss his presence, it made him happy to see you were still doing well. Even if it was without him.

Turning on his back, with his hand stretched over the empty space beside him, Matt couldn't help but wonder why you cut all contact with him, and why he had been so bothered by the fact. He could take the hint and accept a rejection, but he couldn't understand why your silence hurt him the most of all. Something was missing; Matt could feel it so clearly when he returned to his apartment at night after your arrangement was abruptly over. His place didn't have your scent, your candles, or even the overpowering aroma of the ointment you applied on him when he needed it. He even missed the coarseness of your fine cotton sheets on his too-sensitive skin. Yet, none of these little things could even begin to compare to how often he found himself missing your presence most of all. Your steady heartbeat and the way it quickened when he touched you. Your comforting scent when he buried his nose into your neck. The way your thighs found their home around his waist when he fucked you into the mattress, your bodies moving together in a desperate attempt at getting closer and closer until you were joined in one body made of flesh and bones. It wasn't just the sex that he missed. His heart involuntarily yearned for your laugh, your presence, being around you. He remembered how your apartment smelled like the tea you drink and how it would be cold by the end of his visits. He missed the way you seemed to know what he needed by paying attention to his body language and the way he conveyed his needs without words.

Matt ran a hand over his face and sighed heavily. He needed to take a walk, to allow his mind to be uninhabited by you.

As Matt padded barefoot through the apartment, he was reminded once again of you by the soft floral fragrance in the sweater you left at his place. It was you he smelled, a warm and sheer powdery iris that he could never mistake for someone else, and a mix of his own scent, too. When he first noticed it in his closet, his heart fluttered when he realized what it was. Now, with its new place on the top of a dining chair, the faint floral was a reminder of what you were to him. He wished he could restore it to your scent and your scent only so he could hold onto you a little longer. Matt caught his stray thought and steered himself away from reminiscing. It was dangerously close to the territory he couldn't afford to enter. So he shut it out.

He really needed that walk.

The air was crisp and clear, which made everything around him stand out more. Matt took a moment to take in his surroundings. The neighbourhood felt lively amongst the aroma of coffee, steaming broth, greasy food and freshly baked pastries. The revving of a motorcycle passed by him, making his brows furrow over the loud noise and the waft of smoke it brought. He smelled more food, more body odour, but amidst all that chaos, something familiar arose. The scent reminded him of you. And once again, his thoughts strayed as if he couldn't help himself.

How could he have predicted the way things ended with you? Even if he knew beforehand, he couldn't prevent it from happening. It simply wasn't meant to be. You and him both knew what you were getting into, and it was nothing more than a casual exchange. And if his exclusion from your life was what you wanted, he would respect that. Still, Matt couldn't make sense of his desolation. It confused him, all the thoughts running through his head, all the ache wrapping around his heart like cellophane, circling around the truth buried so deep that he couldn't feel it for what it truly was. It was almost as if his heart already knew, but his mind refused to acknowledge it.

The iris scent got stronger, and Matt directed his attention toward it. His heart seemed to recognize it before his senses caught onto it, beating faster as it came closer, accompanied by the rhythm of a heartbeat he knew so well. It was unmistakenly you, your scent, your voice, as all the tangible signals drifted to him. He was aware that you hadn't seen him yet; his feet involuntarily picked up the pace, closing the distance between you. You were closer to him now, the closest in months. He listened to your voice as you chatted with your companion, unaware of him. And when you finally saw him, Matt could tell as the breath in your throat hitched. He took a deep breath, bracing himself to say hi, a soft smile on his face.

It was only seconds, yet it felt so long as your jacket brushed over his on the busy pavement; the brief contact ended before it even began. You kept walking further away from him as Matt's heart dropped in the realization that you didn't stop to acknowledge him. The familiar ache took hold of his heart and squeezed again. Matt brushed the feeling off by taking his own steps forward and away from you, only with less certainty and excitement. He was still close by when he heard it. The conversation you had with your companion.

"Hey. You okay?"

The woman's voice was full of concern.

"Uh, yeah, I'm … I'm fine."

There was a touch of hesitation in your voice.

"Are you sure? You look like you saw a ghost."

A small chuckle.

"I feel like I did."

A brief pause and a small yet determined exhale later.

"Don't worry. It's nothing."

His heart dropped even further at your words; the pain grabbed and pulled at his heartstrings violently. What you said to your friend manifested a bitter taste on his tongue, making his stomach churn. You pretending not to know him and ignoring him hurt him more than he realized. How could you? How could you act like the ink on the pages of your story had washed away so completely that the history you shared became a blank book? Why did he become nothing to you?

Matt wanted to know the unbridled truth and get the closure he was owed. He deserved that much.

–

About a week later, Matt waited for you to return home at the front of your building instead of the usual spot at your fire escape. It was late, almost time for him to go back to his apartment so he could start the patrol for the night. But that could wait.

Matt buried his hands into his pockets to shield them from the wind nipping at his skin. Leaning onto the brick pillar at the bottom of the steps, he closed his eyes, trying to calm his heart rate, reminding himself that it was just you, the woman he had known so well. But his logic persisted. Maybe he didn't know you at all. He could barely understand himself these days. Who was he to say that he knew you for who you really were?

His heart picked up its pace again once he heard the sound of your voice neared. You were laughing alongside the familiar voice from last week; the slightest slur in your words was enough for him to know that you were tipsy. The uneven clicks of your heels on the ground became steadier as you made your way toward the entrance and stopped when you approached him.

Matt stood up straight, clearing his throat softly.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?"

You wasted no time. Your voice was cold, and your demeanour was curt.

"I need to talk to you."

Your companion's voice interrupted him.

"Who are you?"

You pulled at your friend's sleeve, and after a brief pause, she released a small gasp and a soft "Oh". She then turned to him, her voice stern, leaving no room for any other interpretation.

"My friend doesn't have anything to say to you. So you can–"

"Mindy. I got this."

"Are you sure?"

Matt listened as the conversation wrapped up, with Mindy getting into a cab and you promising to call her if you wanted to talk. You closed the door, waiting until the taxi pulled away before returning to him, still keeping your distance.

"What do you want to talk to me about?"

Matt took a small step forward.

"About what happened between us."

"There is nothing to talk about. Nothing happened."

The blankness in your voice made him feel like his skin was pricked with needles. He scoffed, bewildered with disbelief at your outright denial.

"I wouldn't call cutting off all contact, out of the blue, without an explanation, nothing."

When you didn't say anything, he continued.

"Why did you shut me out? It's like our relationship meant nothing to you."

His words seemed to get to you as you snapped back at him.

"There was nothing between us. There was no relationship."

You enunciated your words, making your intention clear.

"I cared for you the same way you cared for me. Isn't that something?"

The harsh puff of air escaped from you was scornful, and Matt knew he was getting somewhere.

"No. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course I do. What do you mean by that?"

You stepped closer until you were inches away from him. You were so close that Matt could feel the tension in your body, the way your fists clenched into themselves, the way your heart pounded in your chest.

"You want the truth, Matt? The truth is I didn't want to set myself up for more disappointment, so I did what I thought was best for myself."

His brows scrunched together at the meaning behind your words.

"What kind of disappointment?"

You sighed heavily.

"The kind that came from knowing I could never be more to you. I thought you cared for me, Matt."

Your voice had gone quieter, so small that he felt like it took all of your strength to physically say it. He softened at that, and his hand reached out to find your cheek.

"I did. I still do."

But before the contact happened, you took a step back, avoiding his hand.

"No. You don't care about me like the way I cared for you. I was just your side piece that you could fuck whenever you–"

Matt was so taken aback by your firm conviction that he didn't register the latter part. He didn't care about the way you seemed to shy away from him and grasped your arms, pulling you close.

"You're more than that to me! You're my friend."

His chest heaved in exertion. He didn't know what else he could do to convince you. When you spoke, it was the way your voice shook that broke him.

"That wasn't enough for me, Matt."

Your hands came up to hold onto his arms, your grasp weak, but it gave Matt some hope. You swallowed hard.

"I lov– I liked you, so much that my heart hurts whenever you didn't stop by."

His heart rattled in its cage, wanting to break free at your confession. Your voice was so small, yet your words carried so much weight.

"I thought we could be more, but you confirmed that it wasn't in the cards for you, so … I did the best thing for both of us. I didn't want to waste anymore of your and my time."

Matt loosened his hold, his head dipped as he hoped you were looking at him.

"You knew what it would be like to be with me. I would go out and I might get hurt, and I didn't want to leave you by yourself worrying about me in case something happened."

You tore yourself away from his grasp, your voice raised in what felt like exasperation.

"You don't get it! I already went through those worries when we were still sleeping together. I was always worried about you when you got injured, when you came to my place just a little later than you said you would. I would be worried sick. So don't feed me that bull shit. I knew what I was getting myself into."

Matt fell silent, and for the first time, he lost his defence. So he returned to the start of it all.

"We agreed to be casual."

"Then why did you act like my boyfriend? Cuddling me to sleep? Making sure I was okay after a shitty day at work? I thought it was you showing that you cared about me more than just a fuck-buddy."

Your anger only intensified at his attempt at calmness.

"You're worth caring for. I didn't regret anything I did for you."

You chuckled, the sound bitter to his ears.

"Right. It doesn't matter anyway. You already have someone else waiting for you at home."

Confusion clouded his thoughts.

"What are you talking about?"

You scoffed in disbelief.

"I'm talking about Karen Page."

"What about her?"

"Don't pull that shit with me. I know you're together. I could tell by the way you acted throughout the interview and the photoshoot."

"You got it wrong. We used to date, but not anymore. We're only friends. Please, you have to trust me."

He could hear you moving toward him before feeling a jab of your finger at his chest; your face was closer to his for the first time in months.

"I don't care what the two of you are anymore, okay? It looked like that from my end. Do you know what it feels like knowing that you were made the other woman? I even defended you before my friend, saying that you actually loved me. I was so fucking stupid."

Your last words were dripped in a teary tone. Matt was speechless as you sobbed; the sound made his body throb with pain as if he was dealt with a thousand cuts. He noticed the way your heart thundered in your chest, but it wasn't out of dishonesty. It was out of the hate and love you had for him, both surging at once. Your heart thumped vigorously for him; your body burned with fervour because of him. He was too stubborn to see the signs for what they were: the affection and devotion you saved for him, reflected through the little things you did for him. You didn't have to say it. Your feeling for him was tangible and real, like the feel of your finger prodding at his chest. Real like the tears on your face at the expense of his unintentional ignorance.

Your hand fell to your side. Your anger subsided; now you were depleted, and Matt hated that he was the source of your distress.

"Please, understand where I came from. I didn't want to be a home wrecker. I just couldn't do it anymore."

He nodded. The silence stretched as the two of you let the confession infuse the air between you. Matt had asked for the truth, and he got it. Yet it was so suffocating that he felt like he couldn't breathe. All of your cards were laid on the table, and it was his turn to reveal his.

You sniffled, and your voice sobered up. But Matt could still hear the shakiness in it.

"Anything else you want to tell me?"

The words were at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to say them. He held his cards close, afraid to confront the aftermath. After all, he had so much to lose.

You took his silence for your answer. You trained your voice to be cold again.

"Right. I hope you got what you came here for."

You brushed past him and ascended the steps, leaving Matt where he was: at the front of your door, in the cold autumn wind, alone. Like he always had been.

*Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!* Follow my side blog to receive notifications whenever I post! @cellophaine-archives

[sinful-lanterns]

Hello its the anon who sent the Cinnabar & Bai Yi ask and I have been thinking and I have the perfect nickname for Bai Yi.

I present...

Bai Bai.

HEAR ME OUT-

Bai Yi is on the track team and we can assume that she is the fastest one on the team (because im pretty sure she is like the fastest sinner in all of the game). In fact she is so fast that she goes...bye bye.

Get it? Its a pun.

Basicly she is Bye Bye or you say Bye Bai

(it can also refrence how she speeds off on her motercycle too)

I'm so proud of this nickname

I can imagen reader yelling out this nickname when we and Bai Yi were alone in the same room doing something like a project or whatever.

Like we're both just sitting there then all of a sudden we gasp and yell, "BAI BAI!

Bai Yi looks at us confused and a little worried and goes "What was that?"

"Nickname!"

"Nickname?"

"Yes! Your nickname!"

"What was the thinking process behind this?" Now don't get her wrong, Bai Yi was absolutely thrilled that she got a nickname from you but she was kind of disappointed that it was just the first part of her name repeated twice.

That was before we proceed to explain the reason behind the nickname, finishing our explanation with, "Its a pun!"

Bai Yi proceeded to scream internally, crying tears of joy about how fucking adorable we are and that she got herself an adorably specialy crafted nickname from us. She feels like the center of the universe rn.

'Take that Cinnabar, reader gave me a special nickname as well! HA!'

She won't mind if we call her it in public but will break someones bones if they try to mock her or her nickiname. This name is special and she is going to carry it with honour and defend it with her life.

Little bonus

Cinnabar proceeded to get jealous, as you would causualy throw out Bai Yi's nickname whenever you got excited, and kind of wished you'd use her less cutesy nicknames (ex. Cinnabon & Cinnamon) when you guys are together out in public. The more the Cinnabar thinks about it the closer she gets to asking you to use them in public.

I have no words, this is just so cute and it makes my heart melt to envision Cinnabar getting jealous and Bai Yi being so happy over a cute nickname 🥺

Little Bai Bai…she’d get so giddy and happy every time you call her that in public, thinking you’re the cutest girl in the world who deserves all her love! Cinnabar on the other hand would get a bit pouty that you’re calling other women such cute and ridiculous nicknames, and she’s starting to contemplate letting you call her her embarrassing nicknames in public, just so people know you have a close bond <3

P.S: Bai Yi would be flaunting her nickname so much in public, the other women would start getting jealous and would want a cute nickname from you too. I’ll leave it up to my readers to come up with some cute (and ridiculous) nicknames for the rest of the women ;)

[intertexts]

HELLOOOOOOO i hope u have fun w ur siblings :] but also holy shit i cant wait for u to finish 39 and get to 40 heheheheheheh. ANYWAY. welcome to wibby torment nexus hours here we go!!!!!!!!!

actually going to start with the whisperer/mal/trickster thing because holy shit dude ive had IN DEPTH thoughts about this. i cant even type it all out here bc thats for a wholeeee second ask but basically. fuckin. yeah. fundamental basics: in nhw world trickster killed clarence. not going to give you the reasoning for this yet. im on the fence about how particularly intentional wibbys death was BECAUSE of that but.... yeah thats for sure a fucking soup ingredient dude.

out of all the options you said... hmmmmmm okay. i like all of them for different reasons. i dont think he would specifically kill wibby JUST to spite mal, theres definitely more to it than that, but i think its a funny little bonus for him. mals hatred is proabably MOSTLY one sided. but trickster thinks its funny to make him look like an idiot sooo. haha i killed the kid who reminds me of the other guy i killed in front of you get fucked loser! I ALSOOOO. HMMMM. I DO REALLY LIKE THE IDEA OF WILLIAM GETTING STRUNG ALONG but i dont think trickster is manipulative Like That. hes impatient, he doesnt like playing the long game he likes instant gratification. getting ashe was a HUGE exception to that. so while i do love a good "morally grey hero works with the villain to get something he wants" thing. i think its EXTREMELY in character for william to do that but maybe not so much trickster. i do think if we want a moment like this though...................... what if. ohhh evil cooking in my mind rn. what if trickster makes it. OH FUCK. OKAY. HERE WE GO. LITERALLY JUST POPPING INTO MY MIND AS I TYPE OKAY OKAY FUCK . PSYCHIC DAMAGE

what if. what if. this happens at the beginning of the battle. they find muse sitting in the clearing by himself. they all show up ready to fight, theyre surrounding him (they have scouts out looking for trickster, too, since taking down the puppetmaster is how they free the puppets. ill get to this in a second). um. well. his hair is down, not in any fancy braid or anything. and william cant sense the breaker state. (dakota can, but hes not fast enough). trickster is making it seem like ashe is free by suppressing the breaker state as much as he can wihtout actually turning it off. he has ashe turn toward his friends, talks to them like its actually him, saying htings like "guys please he let me go help me get these off of me" (referring to. the strings) . and . in a panicked state of. relief and desperation to get ashe back, because he cant sense the breaker state, he believes the ruse, wibby is the first person to rush forward. it would maybe be more in character for dakota to rush in, but he hesitates, because with the effects of his power he CAN tell that ashe is still in breaker state. he and/or virion reach out to grab william before he can get too close but hes too fast and hes already in his own breaker form so even if they could grab him their hands would just slip through. he gets close enough and far enough away from the other heroes that trickster has ashe snap fully back into muse mode and rips wibby in half. so his real goal there was just to trick (ha!) at least one of the heroes into getting close enough to do that (lmao funny prank, get gamzeed idiot) but the fact that it was william specifically who did it makes the whole thing EVEN FUNNIER. his trap fooled the logical one, the smart one, the one who is usually stopping the OTHERS from doing stupid things like this !! AND this also just so happens to be mallard ghoul conway's little pet project who looks suspiciously like the hero trickster killed when he took over his first city!!!!!!!!!!! the whole thing is just so delicious for him. which . oh god the wards are out of commission because of wibby death but its also maybe kind of a good thing that this happened because trickster is so busy laughing at his own successful prank that it makes it just a tiny bit easier to find where hes holed up.

is this anything. hi. holy shit wibby torment nexus. i feel like there was something else i wanted to say but i got so lost in the sauce of the Scenarios

AUUUUHGH THIS IS EVERYTHING. YEAH. YEAH HOLY SHIT. sorry i took so long 2 get to this but like. Augh. holy shit. ok. this hits so perfectly i love it a lot. yeah. this goes hard. what if. also. honestly. he just could straight up turn off muse's shaker stuff/breaker state for a minute....... maybe he lets ashe think he's free maybe he's still controlling him or maybe it's genuine & he's really free for half a minute..... then also they doesn't have any reason to suspect him & if dakota Does ashe's telekinesis just. trips him up or prevents him from getting 2 will in time (bc half of dakota's thing is just Being Really Fucking Fast right).... will goes into his breaker state for Extra Security (remember how i said he hates actually fighting w/ it & stuff? he just Doesn't Know that it doesn't work right in ashe's area of effect.) & as soon as he gets close the ruse drops & everything bubbles and shifts around him & it's too late. do u think the trickster still does it with ashe's hands? also i couldn't stop thinking abt the image of wibby's breaker state just. dropping as soon as muse rips him apart. the clean blue-white glow fizzles and disappears & everything's just. blood and meat spraying. that moment of horror. (& maybe also dakota & virion literally just. can't get close safely for a while, they don't Know wibby is still Alive Like that, they just saw him get ripped apart, it's only when they recover from the shock/get desperate enough to enter the muse dreamscape that they realize his lungs are like. still going & stuff....) anyway. did we ever talk about how we fix this? how does he fucking get put back together????

[thlayli-ra]

Looked at the whump prompts and the “sensory overload” prompt spoke to me.

And since I feel like I very much relate to Punk and project my issues into him sometimes in my private writings and I’m autistic sooo…. I wanna see Punk suffer in a relatable way but not written by me✨✨

😬

(Oh Kat, you chose the only prompt on that wheel I had no idea what to do with. Sensory overload is not something I'm personally familiar with, but I've given it my best shot and hope it captures some of the experience. I also had to watch that lovely Punk/Regal match so that's an added bonus!)

Trick - 'Sensory Overload'

Characters - CM Punk, William Regal

Rating - Teen and up

Warnings - Blood, mention of vomit, in-ring cruelty

It wasn't that he expected Regal to be an easy opponent. The opposite, in fact. As soon as he heard those deep, ominous thrums announcing the English veteran as his 'mystery opponent', Punk knew he was in for a rough night.

It's just that... he didn't expect it to all to go to shit as suddenly as it did.

In the beginning, it was pretty standard. The pair of them traded blows, Regal stiffing every single one of his as wrestlers of his generation tended to do whenever they faced against a younger, fresher-faced opponent. Didn't matter to Regal that Punk had been in this business for nearly half of his life now, he was still some upstart that needed taking down a peg or two. Didn't help that Punk was a little more mouthy and confident than most.

Despite the added bite to each blow, Punk gritted his teeth and dug his heels in deeper. Absorbing the punishment to prove his toughness. For in the end, that's all that mattered to these old-school boys - toughness, grit. And in his heart, Punk had always considered himself old-school.

But then he got flung into the corner. The second punch made contact. Right on the crooked point of his nose. Pain erupted across his face, his eyes began to stream and the porcelain crack hit his eardrums from inside his skull. He crumpled to the ground, knees clattering against the boards beneath the canvas, making them bounce and his body sway as he tried to asses the damage done to his nose.

Broken, he was certain of it and when sticky gloop began tricking down the back of his throat, it all but confirmed it.

Regal hadn't noticed. Or had but didn't care. Probably the latter. Next thing Punk knew he was being man-handled further onto the apron, shoved down onto his back. And he could feel the course fibres of the canvas scrubbing against the bare skin of his shoulders and back and thighs and the blood began to flow down the back of his throat and now it was clotting around the rims of his nostrils, on the brink of bursting free-

When Regal's mammoth boot punched against his temple! Smashing the other side of Punk's head against the metal turnbuckle with a clang and the pain went fucking nuclear. Screeching down every vein and vessel and synapse in his brain like a high-voltage electric shock and when he tried to sit up, he nearly fainted or threw up or both.

Shit!

Yet even then, Regal gave him no room for breath, no mercy. The nightmarish shark had smelt the blood now splattered across its prey's face and had rolled its eyes in, readying for the kill. Clubbing Punk in the back of his head, he palmed him across his busted face, forcing him back down before plunging the solid plate of his knee cap (and all 240lbs of his body weight) into the shattered cartilage. The agony burst, the frame of his skull buckled beneath the pressure before snapping back. And the canvas scrubbed his skin and the blood gushed out his nose and down his throat and he coughed to try and shift it, gurgling on his own red-soaked spit.

And still Regal attacked. Like a feral dog shredding a chew toy. Grinding his knee again and again and Punk tried to fight back but the agony was over-whelming and his hands were clumsy, his arms flailed and the canvas was rasping against his shoulder blades like sand-paper. He wanted off the canvas, he needed off the canvas!

But Regal mounted him, pinning his tattered shoulders against the mat. Punk kicked out. Another pin. Punk kicked out. Regal shoved him down again, driving his entire forearm into the splintered shards of Punk's nose. Punk turned his head, tried to fight off the assault and found enough strength to kick out again.

His face was a sticky mess now, splatters across his cheeks and lips and even across his chest. Wet and gluey and hot, burning even compared to his flushed, sweat-skimmed skin. And his head pulsed from temple-to-temple, vibrating like the struck symbol of a drum kit. The arena was spinning around him, a blaze of contorted faces and bright lights and blaring noise, turning in uneven, heaving circles and the feeling in his gut was getting worse and he really thought he was going to be sick but he couldn't be sick, not until he finished the match and got to the back and a voice suddenly piped up in his skull, wondering if his vomit would be red too and he shook it away because that wasn't fucking important right now and the boards were bouncing again but it wasn't him moving it was-

Regal grabbed him by the shoulder, yanked it back. The other hand gripped a fistful of his hair, creaked Punk up onto his knees in order to snare his other shoulder. Those same chafed, red-raw shoulders were now being slowly prised out of their sockets, the pain trickling from his head into his deltoids and trapeziums and even then the agony in his head was still all-consuming and the blood gathered up in his throat again and he had to gasp through it to scream 'no' whenever the ref asked him if he was giving up. And his shoulders were hauled back even more, large palms driving his neck forward, dull throbbing shooting back and forth across his upper back. Regal was trying to weaken his shoulders, prevent him from being able to set up his finisher, the GTS.

Fight back! Fight back!

He listened to that voice. Pushed through the pressure to find his feet, those same feet began stomping on Regal until he relinquished the hold but before he let go, the propelled Punk towards the ropes. He fell horribly on them, catching the top one across his throat. His head snapped back like a coiled spring released and a fresh agony seethed in the base of his neck and a spray of red mist smoked from his bloodied lips into the moist air along with a gross, wet dollop of... something, and his legs wobbled beneath him and the world revolved frantically around him and he clutched his guts as he fought another wave of nausea and-

Regal's punch sent him clattering back against the canvas. Another knee in his mangled nose. Another forearm scrubbed against it. Punk put up his arm to fend the rabid Englishman off of him, when his wrist was snared, twisted, compelled against his will beneath the power of a brutal knee to lie flat on the mat for another pin. Kick out. Pin. Kick out.

These multiple kick outs were tiring him. They were meant to. Each one taking longer, the ref's count creeping closer and closer to two, two and a half. But kick out he did, he wasn't finished yet, not by a long shot.

He just needed everything around him to shut the fuck up for two fucking seconds! Let him think!

Fingers wrapped around his chin, scraggy nails digging in like a falcon's talons. Punk was woven into another hold, targeting his shoulders again, the breathy heat of Regal's body flat against his, and his brain screamed 'NOPE' and he fought his way out of it and his mind bellowed 'FINISH THIS' and he dipped beneath Regal in an attempt to roll him up and get a sneaky three count.

Regal escaped. Struck Punk across the throat to chastise the upstart.

Then grabbed Punk by his shattered nose!

Two thick fingers jammed themselves into his sopping nostrils up to the first knuckle, deep enough to prod against the split cartilage at the bridge. Punk's bloodied lips opened wide and a terrible wail ripped from his throat. Above him Regal laughed and panted and wheezed. And the crowd were going insane, like a pack of hounds when the fox was being torn to pieces, drunk with blood-lust and the aphrodisiac of his suffering. And the ref was yelling at Regal to let go, let go, one, two-

And Punk was released but the throbbing remained and Punk tried to breath through the blood and spit and pain and exhaustion and the noise and the lights and Regal had him by the hair again. Drove the hard part of his forearm into Punk's ringing temple, once, twice, and Punk was failing, was running out of energy and running out of time.

Another hold, the worst yet, wrenching his neck and shoulders until he was grotesquely contorted. Held for too long, too painful. His whole body squealing, from the fog in his skull to the anguish in his shoulders, from the sharp tenderness of his nose to the burn in his throat. And his guts strained and squeezed and his ears rang and his eyes streamed and he wanted this to be over. For all of this to be over.

That desire spurred him on. He found the strength to fight back. Kicks, chops, punches, blows, knees, he sparred back with everything he had and more. Threw his body over the Englishman for a near-fall. He wiped the mess from his face with his wrist tape, spat out the last of the blood in his throat through his bared teeth.

But just when he found his feet, they were taken out from right under him. The arena flipped, Punk tumbling through the air, landing nastily on his face, and Regal pounced on his lifeless corpse, a black-hearted crow swooping in to peck the juicy jelly out of his eyes, and Punk was suddenly aware that his trunks had risen up on one side and had wedged right into the split of his asscrack and despite the pain, despite the noise and the dizziness and the nausea, all he could think about now was the sensation of his stitched seam pressing through his speedo into the sweaty recesses of his ass and he was done, he was fucking done with all of this shit!

Regal hauled him to his feet. Punk bend down and managed to lift him up onto his shoulders. His knee made short work of the veteran and within seconds he had pinned him for the one, two, three and the victory.

Punk stuck around for the post-match shenanigans - the blaze of Kane's pyro was the last thing he needed at that moment in time - and as soon as the programme moved on, he disappeared into the back. Grabbing up his headphones, he stumbled through every corridor and hallway until he found an empty room and slammed off the light. Sliding his bare back down the cool wall, his long hair pulled back off his face, he placed his headphones on. No music played, he just wanted to drown everything out.

Silence

Darkness.

A cocoon of peace wrapping around him.

The pain remained, the throb and stick and choke and hurt but with everything else at bay, he could re-frame the torture in his body, re-direct it. He sat and he breathed and he mentally re-wired his body, taking as long as he needed to wrestle back control of his frantic senses.

As he started to calm down, he began to think back on the match, how everything had suddenly felt so raw and potent. How it had completely over-whelmed, even the feel of his skin on the canvas.

Tomorrow he had a day off, he'd be heading back home to Chicago.

Perhaps it was time to book an appointment with his doctor. Get tested.

Get a diagnosis.

[practickles]

EnaKasa Tickle Headcanons

It's downright criminal that these two have never interacted.

Absolute. Drama. Queens. 

Neither of them can just sit still and take it, they are either flailing and squealing like it’s the one thing between them and spontaneous combustion or twitching violently and complaining nonstop (never meaning a word of course) 

Ticklish tummy solidarity. I don’t make the rules, sorry. 

Tha image of them just sitting next to each other, gradually hiking up each others shirt and tickling oh so softly without either laughing or saying a word. It’s kind of become an unspoken game for them at this point. The first one to giggle gets nonstop raspberries for at least 5 minutes. They have a pretty even win/loss streak. 

These two are stubborn, so tickle fights can get intense and often start with no warning. 

All it takes is a few fingers under either of their arms and suddenly its been an hour and both are exhausted and panting on the floor. 

Ena for sure plays dirty too. Does that thing where she pretends to be giving a break but right as Tsukasa inhales, she tickles him again. She’s also really mean by means of going for bad spots and not letting up for even a moment. 

It is no understatement to say that both of those make him lose his mind screaming. 

Pretty much the only advantages he has on her are physical. He’s got size, strength, and endurance but in every other sense she has him completely beat. Yeah he can pin her but that won’t stop the teasing, which is half the battle for him.

Neither of them mind how often he loses though.

I’ve talked on here before about Tsukasa being the most dramatic and playful, but also the sweetest ler out there. That 100% rings true when he goes for Ena too. 

She’s the type to be easily frustrated and then take that frustration out on herself. Luckily for her, her boyfriend hates that and has a much better solution for it (read: frequently tickling her to pieces)

Idk, I think Ena comfort tickles would just be a common thing for them in general. 

Tsukasa is one of the only people in her life who she feels comfortable enough to admit to that she kind of maybe just a little bit doesn’t hate being tickled. 

He, of course, understands that’s Ena-speak for “she loves to be tickled. It makes her happy.” He also knows she’s frequently in need of comfort. 

Body image issues? Soft tickles everywhere she’s insecure while he whispers how pretty his girlfriend is. Insecure about her art? Tickling her until she forgets and saying the corniest stuff like “if your art is half as lovely as that laugh, then you have no reason to worry.” Trouble waking up? Try staying in bed when you’re too busy squirming. 

It is a miracle she hasn’t burnt to a crisp yet with how easily he can make her blush.

Another embarrassing thing he does is the theatrics.

He just makes.. Such a big deal about how fun it is for both of them and is clearly so engrossed in it. 

Playing characters and high pitched “kitchi kitchi” noises serve to remind Ena exactly what’s going on and exactly why she’s not pulling away.

The worst part for her is the fact that he’s not even trying to fluster her with the tickling. It’s just an added bonus if/when he notices it. He’s just so affectionate she can’t help getting all embarrassed.

Ena, on the other hand, does not at all take Tsukasa’s sweetness into account when he winds up on the receiving end. 

Ena loves to draw on Tsukasa in general, like doodling on his arms/hands whenever she's feeling antsy but especially loves being able to take the time to make use of his stomach when she's in the mood for a longer “project”.

Really it's just an excuse to see/touch Tsukasa's tummy but he doesn't need to know that. Sometimes she doesn't even draw, just traces shapes with her finger or a clean paintbrush.

“Such a beautiful and strong canvas. So perfect for me” is all that needs to come out of her mouth for Tsukasa to be ready and able to do anything she could ever want.

She’s one to keep her nails always well done and pretty and that fact has nearly sent Tsukasa to his grave so many times. 

He already loves how they look, he can recognize the artistry and has even considered having his own done. But when they’re wiggling towards him? He’s an absolute goner. She knows exactly how to pinch his ribs and slowly drag them around. 

To the point where he’s associated that with her nails and even looking at her hands too long can put him in a lee mood. 

Tickles to get him to shut up. 

Tsukasa has a unique talent of being able to fill any room’s silence with his voice going on and on and on. Ena has a talent for filling the room with his laughter instead.

Tsukasa can get kind of overenthusiastic and reactive at times, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes though, feeling so much at once is overwhelming and what better way of tiring yourself out than annoying your vindictive girlfriend into wrecking you to pieces?

A classic favorite of his is to poke Ena over and over, sometimes somewhere ticklish to make her jumpy or even just her cheek just to be annoying. 

Because he lacks subtlety, she always knows what’s going on. 

Whether she draws it out and makes him admit it or immediately gets him back depends on her mood. Tsukasa loves both regardless, it’s a win-win.

He gets downright whiney if she drags it on too long but still won’t ask. The best she’ll ever get is a little mumble.

When Ena is in the ever elusive “soft ler” mode, she has a tendency to become absolutely captivated with any smile of Tsukasa’s. She just wants to look at him all day. Every single one of his features is perfect to her. 

He gets so so shy from the attention, Ena just has to tickle him right back out of his shell. 

[fuckyeahaudiodrama]

REC: Neon Inkwell - Of That Colossal Wreck

“An existential science fiction horror [which] follows five survivors who awaken on a vast space station, intended as humanity’s last defence against oblivion. Little do they know, however, that other beings are interested in the facility…” (x)

7 episodes / approx. 2.5 hrs

a long-anticipated limited series by Jonny Sims and Sasha Sienna, exploring what it means to be human, how identity is shaped, and what can be done when all seems lost.

first standout thing about this series is the sound design (and the music.) it’s GORGEOUS, discordant and haunting, and really just sets a mood before the story even gets its stride. reportedly, the RQ production staff got to mix things up and try out new roles for Neon Inkwell, so Katie Seaton actually got to do the music and sound design for this series. i have to assume this means she was responsible for bringing the alien “whistlers” to life — and i just think they’re so goddamn cool. i want to know everything about them. check out this post for a sampler of that. i was so impressed overall that i’m currently checking out some of Katie’s other work.

obviously, i knew i was going to enjoy the writing — Jonny Sims has produced nothing but bangers from TMA to both of his published novels, and what i’ve seen of Sasha Sienna’s writing in the TMA bonus “What the Ghost?” episodes, as well as their ttrpg work, left me with no doubt that i would enjoy any characters that they helped to develop. but i was still really moved by how each character interacts with the others individually. despite being a fairly short series, there’s somehow room for the development of all six characters — in fact, for the majority of the cast, they’re as in the dark about their own personalities as the audience is at the start of the story, so you get to go on that journey together. i thought that was a neat new spin on the classic amnesiac protag trope that i see so often in this flavor of sci-fi.

this story is at least partially a space survival horror. that being said, the worldbuilding necessitates some pretty daunting existential questions about human ethics, community, and personal identity. from a narrative standpoint, i was wondering how such a short series would even be able to deliver satisfying answers to all of this, but i think it was pretty well done. no spoilers, but man — that finale was like a whole round of emotional gutpunches. a surprisingly hopeful finish.

i already miss these characters terribly ;_; i didn’t even have them very long, but they’re all so lovable and their group dynamic has so much potential. highly recommend checking it out (but mind the content warnings for each episode.)

strong start to the new feed!🪶a behind the scenes episode has been promised soon as well, so look out for that :)

__

similar to: Deviser, Project Nova & The DECA Tapes (premise, setting) ; Red Valley, Down & Janus Descending (vibes)

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

"Down By The River" - Neil Young & The International Harvesters, Pier 84, New York City, September 10, 1985

As I'm sure you've heard, Neil Young will release the third volume of his Archives project in just over a month. Weighing in at 17 discs (plus five blu-rays), it's a ridiculously large collection, with dozens of unreleased tracks. I've heard the whole dang thing via a promo stream and Vol. III will make Neil fanatics very very happy. And yet! It wouldn't be a Neil Young situation if there weren't some very questionable choices made ... As always, I've got quibbles! Quibbles, I say!

For one thing, the International Harvesters era ... Most of what shows up on Vol. III has already been released on A Treasure, well over a decade ago. The additions are great — a gorgeous live version of "Interstate" with a fiery electric solo from Neil and a sweet rendition of "Misfits." But Neil should've added this legendary "Down By The River" to the mix (in fact, he seemed to be considering it). It's a truly insane performance, with Old Black moving unexpectedly into almost Sonic Youth-y zones during the long instrumental sections. Neil duels magnificently with Nashville session pianist Hargus "Pig" Robbins (who you know from classic recordings with Dylan, Lightfoot, Parton and countless others), taking things to unreal heights. Over the rainbow, indeed.

And hey, one good "Down By The River" from the 1980s deserves another, right? Here's Neil and the International Harvesters doing it about a year before Pier 84 down in New Orleans — notable not only for its awesomeness, but also for its rare spoken intro, wherein Neil evocatively sets the scene:

I'd like to sing you a song about a guy who had a lot of trouble controlling himself. He let the dark side come through a little too bright. One afternoon he took a little stroll down through a field and through a forest, till he could hear the water runnin' along there. And he met his woman down there. And he told her she'd been cheatin' on him one time too many. And he reached down in his pocket and he pulled a little revolver out. Said "Honey, I hate to do this but you pushed me too far."

By the time he got back to town he knew he had to answer to somebody pretty quick. He went back to his house, he sat down on the front porch. About two hours later the sheriff's car pulled up out front. It started sinking in on him just what he'd done. The sheriff walked up the sidewalk. He said "Come with me son, I want to ask you a few questions." As he heard the jail door shut behind him he sat down on a little wooden bench — and he looked out of the door through those bars at this kind of wimpy looking sheriff out there. He started getting mad again and he realized what he'd done. There wasn't nothing he could do about it now though. He just sat down and put his head down and started thinking to himself — I'm all by myself here, there's nobody on my side...

Because I care deeply about you, there's another little bonus in the above download, too — a very early "Razor Love," also recorded live with the International Harvesters in 1984. Just wait 'til you hear the synth-pop version included on Vol. III!

[aerifth]

ff7 rebirth spoiler venting lol

kind of really really hate not like, the discourse, i mean i guess it is but just the complete 50/50 split on whether or not aerith is alive in some capacity especially considering if your answer is "no" you take collateral

if you think she lived everythings honky-dory. you just accept something weirds going on even if there is an aerith that died somewhere in this equation there is still another (at least one) that didn't and you're riding that high. if you think she's dead then you take the entire former half of the discussion with you as you boldly claim that cloud is completely fuck-ass delusional and the fact that he deflected the blade at all is totally made up and in his head, thus making the hope she could be saved by players also a delusion by proxy. bonus points if you go out of your way to state that you hope this to be the case and that the alternative would be bad writing lol

idk its very hard to have hope because its like... i like remake!! sue me!! i like it as an echo of the original game!! i dont like that rebirth flushes a lot of what was cool about remake down the toilet even if either way it probably wouldn't make a huge difference. i'd rather have a multi-part story with a consistent vision than one that pivots halfway through to appease the people who never liked it to begin with

its really weird how heavy duty remake treats its deconstruction of destiny just for rebirth to seemingly not follow up. i think its possible to still stay the course, like, for all intents and purposes what happens to aerith is still a twist, and regardless of that there's still An aerith who was not there before. but it feels like a plot thread just erased. it's a plot thread you can apparently entirely ignore by choosing to have a romantic preference of tifa over aerith (?!?!??! i dont even know how this ends up happening with so many people, the ignoring part not the preference part). it felt like, after remake, this entire project existed to have some kind of resolution with aerith, to save her or SOMETHING (and you'd have to be crazy to assume the direction was anything else after remake).

i guess i'm just shocked that like... rather than sit with the consequences of her living, they just kill her anyway? and the idea is that she could be revived later? which feels antithetical to me, but like, we are still talking about the reunion! there's at least one aerith who's alive and another whose circumstances we don't know of for sure! it just feels so strange. even if she's not -dead- she's still out of the story for at least a little while, and the intentional ambiguity doesn't leave me with intrigue for the next installment (not to mention all the interviews are oversharing. i'm at the point where i don't believe any of them considering how much "In my opinion" gets thrown around).

just feels bad. in a gross way. the way people talk about it is so gross. if you have any hope that aerith isn't dead there's always one freak waiting in the wings to jump down your throat about how it's your fault you thought she'd live. this doesn't feel like healthy (manufactured lol) discourse for your game, it feels like something's gone horribly wrong and now we have to wait 4 years to get an answer

[beepsparks]

Uhh random thoughts. Hosts and their fav attractions at the Disney parks bc Disney theme park attractions and history was a special interest of mine for 3 years (btw FUCK Disney obviously im just putting these hcs here bc despite its no longer a special interest I am still nerdy as hell about the theme parks specifically and I like to give characters favorite rides)

Cookie: this man seems like a thrill ride seeker. He will go on as many extreme rides as possible until he eventually has to go to the bathroom to throw up from motion sickness. I have the feel he’d like the Tower of Terror. He’d probably drag Schmitty on it despite Schmitty seems like the type to be absolutely TERRIFIED of drop rides. (He’ll go on anything else tho)

Buzz: okay call it obvious but Buzz Lightyear (and whatever the hell other name they give it istg it’s the same ride but they all have different names at every park). Tell me Buzz WOULDN’T like the LASER SHOOTER GAME RIDE. He probably thinks it’s cool as hell and would challenge others with beating his score. Nobody wins against Buzz.

Nate: this ride is defunct and no longer exists (unfortunately bc I think it’s awesome) but Extra-Terror-estrial Alien Encounter. Something tells me Nate’s weird little interest in conspiracy theories would lead to him liking the REALLY DARK lowkey horror attraction about a transportation device sending a violent alien into the room and characters getting attacked by it. (Btw if you don’t know what the ride is, look it up, its awesome) He’d probably take Buzz on this one and Buzz would be terrified with all the screaming from both the crowd being scared and the characters getting killed by the alien while Nate is having the time of his life lmao. Anyway, unfortunately since Alien Encounter no longer exists, I guess I’ll just say that Nate’s other favorite ride would be Rock N’ Roller Coaster. (Unfortunately, Buzz finds that ride too extreme for his liking as well so Buzz would NOT have fun getting dragged onto there by Nate)

Schmitty: without even thinking about The Lost Gold, I feel like he’d like Pirates of the Caribbean. Idk I Just get that vibe from him. That and he’d also probably like Soarin’ because he’d find it REALLY relaxing (the soft breeze the ride gives ya plus the calm movements and nice visuals and smells) can you tell I want Schmitty to have time to relax and be all chill yet. (Anyway projecting here but considering It’s a Small World is referenced TWICE in The Lost Gold, I headcanon Schmitty secretly likes the ride. It’s not his favorite but he likes it. Shhh I want the funny man to at least somewhat like my interests too)

Guy: Guy also seems like the type to like thrill rides as well (but he’d be able to TELL when hes getting motion sick unlike Cookie) but he also seems like the type to like rides with music that’d get at least somewhat stuck in his head, so while I can’t REALLY decide I guess the closest option is Guardians of the Galaxy: Cosmic Rewind, because it’s a roller coaster that has the chance to play one out of seven songs while the ride goes on. (Fun fact actually I’ve been on it before and it’s literally the only roller coaster I can stomach (i hate coasters) and it played Everybody Wants to Rule the World lmao)

Bonus, REDACTED: The Haunted Mansion. I think we can all agree on that. He’d be upset that the ghosts on the ride aren’t real, though.

[crispinfandom]

In lieu of Project Horizon's soft cancellation and Chessington getting the old plans + 1 more bonus rollercoaster soon... Here was my lore!

CW - Pregnancy-Adjacent, Child-Birth Adjacent, and Miscarriage

-

So my dumb ass started setting up Project Horizon's lore in real time like a good little writer. Originally she was gonna be Oblivion's kid.

Coaster reproduction works very differently from human stuff. Coasters reproduce asexually (outside of a few very rare exceptions). Scientifically, this SHOULD make them an all female species, but whoops me having cis male Coasters was already set in stone sooo

Coasters don't get pregnant. I'm NOT Mpregging Oblivion, I'm NOT!! 😭😭

However, they do experience pregnancy like symptoms such as fatigue, morning sickness, nausea, being overly emotional/hormonal, nesting behaviour, etc etc. Y'know. For some added flare

"Conception" starts when a Coaster has its first mention, whether it be through planning permission, a public consultation, or what have you. A Coaster is officially born into its "child stage" (anywhere from 2-12 years old depending on the target demographic for the final product) once the first signs of construction start, however that may be defined.

The parent Coaster is notified that their child has spawned in by experiencing an intense, excruciating, full-body pain that lasts around 15-30 minutes. Y'know. Just so they know that they know.

HOWEVER! Project Horizon was concieved by this logic, but was never born! Therefore, Oblivion has officially had another miscarriage.

"Wait, another? Who were the first 2?"

Miscarriage 1 was The Smiler. If a Coaster is built in an area with another Coaster that's over 10 years old AND there's no other Coasters of the same manufacturer of the offspring at the park (IE, there was no other Gerstlaurers), then those rides become parent and child.

In 2012, Oblivion was 14, of Coaster reproducing age. However, in 2011, Oblivion was a canon alcoholic. In 2012, he also had other generally stressful life things going on. Therefore, literally less than 2 weeks aftet conception (and before he even really noticed), the parent-child connection was severed and thus marking Bliv's first miscarriage.

Smiler and Bliv are still close. This... Isn't something they really think about. Smiler was handraised by humans and kind of sees one random human as almost being like a parental figure, but absolutely does not see Bliv as like a dad. Probably for the best. Sometimes Bliv looks at Smiler and thinks "hmm. Wonder what life would have been like if things were slightly different," but the thought usually weirds him out pretty quick.

Miscarriage 2 was Oblivion: The Black Hole. Originally (in an out-of-text sense) I planned for Blackhole and Oblivion to have been Husband and Wife, (well... divorced now), and for O:BH to be their kid. I mean... No duh! Seems like a no brainer! But with BH being born in 1982-1984 and Oblivion being born in 1998 (14 years is a parent-child level age gap in Coaster Years) and BH leaving in 2005 and then RANDOMLY still having a kid with Oblivion 10 years later, the timeline didn't really pan out. So, this idea was scrapped. Instead, BH was Oblivion's Mum, and O:BH became Oblivion's sister.

"But wait! Oblivion is 17 years older than O:BH! Why are they siblings?"

If I was starting this lore from scratch, yes! You'd be correct! By my own logic, O:BH would in fact be Oblivion's daughter! Have a cookie, you clever clogs!

Unfortunately, writing is messy, and I already had a bunch of lore I was too attached to to throw away, so I made a compromise.

O:BH was ORIGINALLY going to be Bliv's kid. He conceived her, but before he even knew Gardaland was getting a new Coaster, he miscarried. Some doctors then explained to him that Gardaland was changing their lore and O:BH would be his sister instead.

Bliv's 3rd miscarriage was the aforementioned Project Horizon, obviously. Because Project Horizon was in development for 22 months before the announcement that it *might* be getting moved to Chessington, Oblivion had a lot of time to sit and ponder parenthood. He kind of figured he'd be a rubbish dad. Man can barely look after himself. BUT! He was also kind of excited. Maybe having a kid would be that nudge he needed to actually force himself to have structure and routine in his life, and cook dinner every day instead of just having pot noodle every day for 9 days straight.

However, with Bliv's fertility problems, it wasn't meant to be :(

Now, you may think it's a coincidence that Bliv seems to be a little bit infertile. Well actually, I found a reason! Blackhole also had a miscarriage before having Bliv! You see, there was a Schwarzkopf project planned to go near The Corkscrew that got planning permission in the early 90s, but as you probably know, it never happened. BH was the closest Schwarzkopf, and thus, she suffers the same fate as Bliv. In fact... A lot of Schwarzkopfs do.

Thunderlooper SPECIFICALLY was not expecting to have Nemesis and hated him because it gave him internal issues.

BH got internal issues after having Bliv, which nearly caused her death AND THEN caused Alton to sell her because they didn't wanna pay for her health problems.

Alton Beast (still unsure about the canonicity of this) got sold after having Galactica, perhaps due to reproductive health issues.

So basically, Schwarzkopfs suck at reproducing. This is because Schwarzkopfs were born in a mill, and it kind of screwed them up. Schwarzkopfs having reproductive issues may also explain why 1, Schwarzkopf was a mill in the first place, and 2. Why they're dying out.

But if BH had reproductive issues... and Oblivion has reproductive issues... Who's driving the ship? That's right, it's genetic babieee

TLDR get fucked Oblivion you're doomed by the narrative

[autumnfangirler]

👀 mindscapes u say ?

the minute i saw this ask this popped into my brain

insanity will go under the cut :)

step being step, and them being telepaths, i always thought they had ways to protect their mindscape just in case something happened, so those are going to be added along with the actual descriptions of the mindscape! ill add a bit of what their thoughts sound/feel like because it goes hand in hand for me

Caine- their mindscape is a mix of both the farm and the rangers HQ, because those two were the most fomative places in caine learning what to do and how to be. for a long time they werent anything but a vessel for what others wanted. his mindscape will shift depending on what caine associates the person with the most(fun fact, ortega is more or less at the midway point between the farm and the rangers. it makes for,,, an interesting look to his mindscape). the only thing that doesnt change, though, is that it always feels strangely impersonal, like hes viewing his own mind in a third person perspective. their mind is firm yet adaptable, and while his shields arent,,,,the greatest, they dont need to be. he keeps track of the mental feel of anybody in their brain, and arranges something accordingly. whatever seems to be a particular persons weakpoint, hell pick up on and project. its difficult to find anything in their brain (that sounds like an insult but i Swear its not) since its bare of more personal objects or revealing factors. they use their observations and skill to make sure nobody can do much to their brain– just like a fight, find his opponents weakness and take advantage of it to win.

i always saw his thoughts as a mix of ortega and chens, most of them being short and clipped, but restless. hell often get lost in them, though hes always aware of whats going on around him. their imagination is surprisingly active, and they also come with a healthy dose of overthinking :D

Cyrus- i was mentally shaking your hand when you talked about cyrus mindscape. the core of his mind is exactly what you described; its a blaze, with near welding-torch focus towards its victims. youll be burned if you try to get close. but hes making sure nobody reaches that far. the surrounding area is a icy and cold, giving anybody inside absolutely nothing. hes laid tricks, of course: fading tracks in the snow, an odd rustle of bushes here or there, but mostly speaking its entirely barren. its a test of endurance, and hes depending on people failing from the environment before they can do any real damage. only the people who know him or are observant enough can figure out which way to go. as a little bonus tidbit: prehb cyrus' mindscape was a forest in midday, where the heat was just intense enough to feel it beating on your back. there are still remnants of that in his current mindscape, though the trees are fallen over and theres no sun to be found.

his thoughts are very final, for lack of better word. theres hardly room for doubt in them, though often times he'll ruminate on an idea to make sure everything is up to his satisfaction. despite the outer shell of his mindscape, his thoughts Do feel warm, but its more like friction burn

Cecilia- her mind is surprisingly open, and it is showy. its a museum, and when you enter theres a velvet carpet with those massive marble stairs in the middle and a beautiful chandelier overhead. every floor has paintings of things shes done, with the first few floors consisting entirely of her proudest moments, including the sidestep ones. im sure theres at least one painting of the nanosurge in there, she didnt like the fact that nobody knew she stopped it. there are some more quieter, but still happy memories when people go up, ones with ortega, argent, herald, and more. theres an uneasy feeling at about this point, though. the farther up they go, the stronger that feeling grows, to the point where the mental pressure could crush them completely. ceci doesnt need tricks like the other two do; she exercises power as her means of defense. its coupled with more disturbing paintings too, ones that depict things like the farm and the void. the lights get dimmer, theres less exhibits, and the final floor is just. empty. empty, and utterly lonely. what are you doing up here? theres nothing for you.

shes in the same boat as ortega, aka her thoughts Never shut up. shes creative and excitable, and its easy to get wrapped up in her thought processes. there doesnt tend to be repetition or circling, she doesnt stay on the same thought for very long.

Cynthia- you know the "you... are... lost in memories" line in rebirth? thats what cynthias mindscape is like. its a house thats an amalgamation of every home shes visited before: tia elenas, anathemas, and of course ortegas. it invites nostalgia. every object sends a person into memories, using the same system that nightmare loops do, but kinder. the memories are wrong, though. faces can get blurred, voices are distorted, and touch is especially difficult to get right. it can be disorienting to experience these loops, and they become nauseating if you spend too long in them. the house itself is a maze, and it feels like it goes on forever. none of the rooms repeat itself, but they cant be used as a marker either, because it never seems like you can go back to the same room you were in before. thats how cynthia protects herself– nothing is the same, everything is a trap, and when a person falls for it, she can safely extract them from her mind.

her thoughts are long, slow, and careful, and she often goes back to earlier thoughts to consider them further. her thoughts are twitchy too, theyre easily affected by her environment. theyre warm though, and i imagine feels like somebody reading a story to you

[compassionatereminders]

Personally (i can only talk for myself of course) i dont always like the tone in your recent posts in comparison to your posts of a couple of years ago. I can only talk for myself but it felt accusatory, something like this: “have YOU done this? YOU did not and so its YOUR fault etc.” while almost everyone has made and still makes mistakes in their communication (since its a lifelong learning process), so we become defensive, like you do too sometimes. Im with you about the fact that we should not expect anyone to read our minds, but the post to me felt like you started a conversation and didnt finish, for example you say “its a two way street” but you talk about one side only, the other side is that a person as to be willing to listen, this is just an example, communication is a big topic so your post feels like a drop of water so it can be easy to feel like something is missing, you usually ten follow up with other posts clarifying more but they get “lost” because they are not getting as much notes, meaning many people will not read those ones at all. Also im a little confused because you say you are neurotypical (and im not say you are not!) so you dont come from a place of privilege, but you yourself said that your social skills are one of the few things where you are actually probably above average (if i remember right). Anyway this are my two cents for the criticism you asked, take it or leave it thats on you. There are other things i could say but it would be boring and just petty of me. If i worded something in a weird way i apologise in advance, i try to be clear but it can be hard

I get what you're saying, but the thing is that this blog is a place where I post about my own journey and what I'm personally working on. And in my life there has been a shift from placing blame elsewhere to taking on more personal responsibility. A shift which my blog reflects. And it's valid and understandable if that approach doesn't work as well for you, but you gotta remember that while I love to help others, this project is still mainly about me and my journey. I post what I need to hear. And sometimes it helps others too. But that's a bonus. That being said, I will try to be a bit clearer in my communication when it can come across as accusatory, because my intention definitely isn't to upset people. Especially if they're mainly upset because they misunderstood what I was trying to say. And about my own social skills, then I do have certain privileges in that area today, but I haven't always had those. And I'm definitely not neurotypical just because I struggle more in different areas. That being said, point taken. I'll keep this in mind!