#why is this weirdly fucking poetic

[atomicpirateperson]

so I realized that around this time of the year is already past my 1 year anniversary of being hyperfixated on Rob?? time flies

this is the timeline of how it happened according to some vague memories:

1. i happen to see some random video of The Rerun on like, YouTube I think

2. me: hmm i think that one eyed guy is giving some real gender envy– wait. oh no. its happening. he's the new Chosen One, isn't he

3. im not hyperfixated im not hyperfixated im not–

4. I AM SO FUCKING HYPERFIXATED I LOVE ROB FROM TAWOG HE MEANS EVERYTHING TO ME!!!!!!

5. rob is a major part of my life and my headspace now. i couldn't stop if I tried, because some part of my brain views him as an actual close friend, and therefore abandoning this hyperfixation would feel extremely cruel. i would never do that to him and therefore he will be my imaginary bestie/adoptive son forever. i will never grow out of it. i am perfectly okay with that

[wiredalienvampire]

Been thinking about how much my feelings towards the rabbids changed as I grew up overtime, as a little kid I liked them and thought they were funny, as a preteen i grew to dislike them because I thought they were annoying and was pretty sour about them essentially overthrowing the rayman franchise when they began to become their own thing, and as a teen today I have grown to be somewhat indifferent/ sorta appreciating them. Sure I do wish that they didn't over shadow rayman, but with the existence of rabbids go home,and the mario + rabbids game including the sparks of hope dlc, and when the humor is handled well, they can be decently endearing and even kinda cute. They're just silly little bunnies, I can't really bring myself to hate them!

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤNOT AN UBER DRIVER * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where a very much drunk Y/N, glasses-less, and leaving a party, hops into what she thinks is her Uber, only to be greeted by Matt, a cute guy who is definitely not her Uber driver.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　no.

WARNINGS　::　being drunk, feeling sick.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

The bass thumped through the pavement, the kind of deep, rolling sound that reverberated in her bones and made the ground feel unsteady beneath her feet.

Or maybe that was just the tequila. Hard to tell.

Either way, the party was starting to blur together, flashes of neon lights, the distant echo of laughter, the lingering scent of something vaguely sweet and smoky in the air.

Y/N blinked, trying to focus on her phone screen. The tiny glowing numbers refused to sit still, swimming in and out of focus as she squinted at them.

Where the hell were her glasses?

Right. In her purse. Or maybe on someone’s table. Or maybe gone forever. It didn’t really matter at this point. What mattered was that her Uber was here.

Probably.

The app had just pinged her, and that was her cue to leave.

With the kind of confidence only a drunk girl could have, she swiped a hand through her hair, straightened her posture like that would somehow make her seem more composed, and made her way toward the line of parked cars outside the mansion. The LA air was cooler out here, crisp against her flushed skin.

She hummed to herself, stumbling slightly as she approached the row of black and silver vehicles. Was it the black Honda? Or the black SUV? Or-

Whatever, doesn’t matter.

Uber drivers always had those tiny stickers on the window, right? Not that she could see them without her glasses.

So, with absolutely no hesitation, Y/N reached for the handle of a random car and slid into the passenger seat like she did this every day. The leather was warm from sitting under the LA heat, the faint scent of something salty and familiar lingering in the air.

She barely had time to register the fact that the driver hadn’t greeted her before she clicked her seatbelt into place and sighed.

"Hey, Uber driver who I don’t know the name of because I don’t have my glasses with me." She said, head lolling slightly to the side as she glanced toward the figure beside her.

Matt Sturniolo was staring at her like he had just witnessed a crime.

His fingers hovered frozen over the fast-food bag in his lap, his wide blue eyes reflecting pure, unfiltered what the actual fuck energy. He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He just sat there, his grip tightening ever so slightly around a lone onion ring.

Y/N, oblivious to the sheer level of distress she had just caused, frowned at him. Weirdly quiet guy.

Then, without missing a beat, Matt cleared his throat, glanced at his onion ring, and started talking.

"Hey... uh. Do you want an onion ring?"

Y/N blinked at him. Processing.

Then, after too many seconds, she shrugged.

"Sure, why not."

And just like that, she took the onion ring from his fingers - that was already bitten -, popped it into her mouth, and chewed.

The onion ring was good. Like, really good. Crispy, salty, the kind of satisfying crunch that felt almost poetic in the moment. Or maybe that was just her messy taste buds. Either way, Y/N sat there, chewing thoughtfully, completely unfazed by the fact that the guy next to her - her supposed Uber driver - had yet to say much beyond offering her fast food.

She swallowed, then licked a bit of salt off her lip before shifting in her seat. It was only then that she noticed something was... off.

They weren’t moving.

The car was still in park, engine humming softly, headlights illuminating the empty stretch of road ahead.

She furrowed her brows, glancing at him.

"Hey, I’m all good to go!" She announced, clapping her hands together like this was some kind of Uber check-in process. "You can start driving now."

Matt, still mildly stunned and feeling lost, blinked at her. Then, after a pause, he cleared his throat, preparing himself to make her leave his KIA.

"Miss, I'm not-" Matt stopped himself, jaw tensing.

He could think she was insane and reckless all he wanted, but he sure wasn’t about to let a drunk girl figure out how to get home alone. Not in this city. Not when she could barely stand straight without swaying like a damn cartoon character.

He let out a slow exhale, cleaning his dirty fingers on the napkin laying above the car console.

"You know what? What’s the address?"

Oh. Right. Addresses.

Y/N blinked at him, then at her phone, the glowing letters on the screen looking like they were written in an ancient, forbidden language that her brain had no capacity to decipher right now. She squinted hard, her mouth moving in a silent test run before she finally read them aloud, not even realizing that the Uber app would’ve already handled this for her. If he was her Uber driver at all.

Matt just nodded, turning to his GPS and tapping in the location like this was just another casual night.

But just as he finished, a text notification popped up on the screen.

Nick: We’re leaving in 10. U there?

Matt glanced at it for half a second.

And then?

He ignored it.

His fingers hovered over the screen, but instead of bothering to answer, he just drove his attention to the road, shifted gears, and put his car in motion.

The engine hummed smoothly, the low rumble cutting through the quiet night as the car rolled onto the road, the distant echoes of the party fading into the background.

Y/N exhaled dramatically, sinking further into the passenger seat, trying to focus on the soft hum of the car rather than the growing ache in her head.

After a beat, she glanced over at Matt - really looked at him for the first time. His dark shirt, the way his fingers decorated with silver rings drummed lightly on the steering wheel, the faint glow of streetlights casting sharp angles across his bearded face making his features pop in the kind of way that made her want to run a hand through her hair and pretend she wasn’t so clearly out of it.

He was cute. Like, annoyingly cute.

"Are all Ubers that work past midnight this pretty?" She asked, her words dripping with playful sincerity.

Matt’s eyes widened, his grip on the wheel tightening just a little as his mouth opened, and then, realizing he wasn’t choking on anything, he did exactly that, choked on nothing. For a split second, he glanced at her, looking like a deer caught in headlights before snapping his gaze back to the road.

"What?" He asked, his voice going a little higher than usual, almost like a weird, adorable squeak.

Y/N raised her eyebrows, tilting her head like she was explaining the weather.

"I mean, it’s a fair question, right? I feel like this must be an exclusive, midnight-only service you’ve got going here."

Matt’s eyes flicked over to her again, his face a mixture of confusion, shock, and something a lot like embarrassment. He cleared his throat as if it would somehow help him regain some composure, but it only made the situation more awkward, and infinitely more endearing.

"... I... I’m not-" He atarted, though his voice was barely a whisper as he struggled to keep his attention on the road.

"Wait." She interrupted him abruptly, turning fully toward him now, gasping softly. "Are you one of those cool Uber drivers?"

Matt let out a breathy, shocked laugh through his nose, shaking his head with the sudden change of humor.

"What- what do you mean ‘cool Uber driver’?"

"You know." She gestured vaguely. "The ones who let me blast my music and give me free snacks."

Matt hummed, tilting his head in mock consideration.

"I don’t know. What kind of music are we talking?"

Y/N gasped, clutching her chest.

"As if that’s even a question. The best kind, duh."

Matt raised a brow. For him, the best kind was Mac Miller.

"Which is...?"

She grinned, already reaching for his aux cord like it was her car.

"I could tell you, but I’d rather show you."

Matt didn’t stop her. He just exhaled another amused breath through his nose, watching through the corner of his eye as she scrolled furiously through her playlists, her brows furrowing in deep concentration. Then, with a triumphant little hum, she hit play.

The car instantly filled with the unmistakable opening notes of Tik Tok by Kesha.

Matt’s grip on the steering wheel twitched. Y/N, completely unbothered, turned to him with the most serious expression possible.

"This is non-negotiable. You must sing."

Matt scoffed.

"I must?"

"It’s a legally binding agreement the second Kesha starts playing." She said matter-of-factly.

Matt shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself.

"I don’t think that’s how the law works."

"You think the law has power over Kesha?" She gasped. "Over me?"

Matt laughed. A real laugh this time. Low and warm and easy.

Nick would've loved her.

Y/N, taking this as a win, nodded firmly before dramatically belting out the lyrics, all while drumming her hands against her thighs like this was a full-on concert.

"BEFORE I LEAVE BRUSH MY TEETH WITH A BOTTLE OF JACK-"

Matt winced.

"Jesus Christ."

"- CAUSE WHEN I LEAVE FOR THE NIGHT, I AIN'T COMING BACK!"

Matt, to his credit, didn’t crash the car. He just huffed out another laugh, shaking his head as he reached into the Burger King bag and held out another onion ring.

"Here. Please, for the love of God, chew."

Y/N gasped again, snatching the onion ring dramatically.

"Are you trying to silence me?"

"A little bit."

She narrowed her eyes, biting into it slowly, all while maintaining intense eye contact.

"You fear my talent."

Matt let out a small chuckle, adjusting his grip on the wheel.

"I fear for my eardrums."

Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically, taking another bite of the onion ring. She chewed happily for a few seconds, but then, suddenly, her jaw slowed.

A weird, unsettling feeling rolled through her stomach like a warning siren, and before she could process it, nausea hit her like a wave. Everything inside her flipped, her stomach twisting unpleasantly. She swallowed thickly, her throat tightening, her whole body stilling.

Matt noticed instantly.

"Hey, hey, hey." He said, his voice dipping into something soft, immediately catching onto her discomfort.

His reaction was so quick that before she could even think, he had already taken one hand off the wheel, reaching toward her. His fingers brushed against hers, gently but firmly taking the half-eaten onion ring from her grasp, tossing it effortlessly back into the bag.

And then, without a moment's hesitation, he paused the song and rolled down her window.

The cool night air rushed inside, hitting her face in a gentle, relieving gust, playing with the strands of her hair and making them dance in the wind, cooling down her warm face.

Matt's hand went back to the wheel, but his eyes flicked toward her every couple of seconds.

"You good? Want me to pull over?"

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the fresh air like it was her lifeline. Her fingers gripped the side of the seat, her head tilting slightly toward the breeze, trying to ground herself.

"Ugh, no, no, I'm fine." She muttered, still a little off-balance. "It just hit me weird. I think my stomach was like, 'Oh, cool, fried food after a night of drinking? Let's ruin this bitch'."

Matt huffed a small laugh.

"Yeah, well, if your stomach starts a full-on rebellion, let me know before it declares war all over my car."

"Don't be mean about it, Uber driver."

Y/N’s voice came out small and pouty, her bottom lip jutting out dramatically as she turned toward him, blinking slowly to ward off the dizziness that followed the nausea.

Matt glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, trying so hard not to laugh at the ridiculous, genuinely heartbroken expression on her face.

"I wasn’t being mean-"

"Yes, you were."

"I was just-"

"So mean."

Her voice wobbled just slightly, and suddenly Matt’s stomach dropped.

Oh, shit.

She was about to cry.

Matt had never dealt with a drunk, emotional person before, and definitely not a stranger one. His brain scrambled for literally anything to do, anything at all, before full-on tears started spilling down her cheeks.

"Hey, no. Don't cry, sweetheart."

The second the pet name left his lips, Y/N’s entire demeanor shifted.

Her tears stopped, and her face softened, lips slightly parted, like she had just witnessed a miracle.

"Sweetheart?"

Matt froze.

Oh, fuck.

Matt glanced around, suddenly feeling too warm, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel like it was his lifeline. His heart was pounding, and she was still staring at him, blinking up at him like he had just given her the most precious gift in the world.

And he needed to fix this immediately.

Without another word, he reached for the smart screen, his fingers quickly tapping it to press play on the song he had paused minutes before.

The second the sound of Kesha's voice blasted through the car again, Y/N’s mood did a complete 180°. Her face lit up, eyes widening as if she had just been brought back to life.

"Oh, shit- KESHA!"

And just like that, everything was gone.

The near-tears were gone, the heartbreak about his comment had vanished, and she was singing again, full volume, completely unapologetic, her hands moving wildly as she danced in her seat.

Matt let out a slow breath, his heart still beating too fast.

Between a 2000's song here and drunk comments there about how she ended up taking way too many jello shots with a dude named Brad who refused to say what he actually did for life or how she ended up getting locked in a bathroom because some drunk couple mistook the stall for a VIP lounge, the car slowed, turning onto a familiar street.

Matt glanced at his GPS, then out the window, before finally shifting into park. He reached for the smart screen, lowering the volume to a minimum before looking at her, voice soft.

"Alright, this is you."

Y/N blinked, then turned her head to look outside.

And- oh.

It was her place.

Huh.

For a second, she just... stared at it. The streetlights, the familiar shape of her front door, the welcome mat that she’d impulsively bought months ago because it said "Hot Girls Live Here".

She chewed on her lip, hesitating for half a second before sighing dramatically.

"Welp. Bye bye, mister Uber driver."

Matt hummed, nodding, but didn’t say anything. So she grabbed her purse and reached for the door handle.

The second she swung it open and stepped out, however, the ground tilted.

Okay, not literally, but it sure as hell felt like it. Her legs wobbled, the world spinning ever so slightly, and before she could even blink, a warm hand wrapped around her arm, steadying her.

"Whoa, hey."

Y/N blinked down at him, her vision slightly wobbly, her brain playing catch-up.

Matt was still in his seat, halfway over the center console, one arm stretched out to keep her from completely face-planting onto the pavement. His fingers curled securely around her forearm, firm but careful, like she was a newborn deer that had just taken its first, very questionable, steps.

"Damn, got two left feet there, huh?" He muttered, lips twitching. "You good?"

Y/N laughed way too hard than any sober person would. Like, actual tears in her eyes hard. And then, as if to prove just how not good she was, she swayed again before flopping back onto the seat with a little bounce.

Matt raised a brow, biting back his own chuckle. It wasn’t even a good joke.

Still giggling, Y/N reached out blindly, pressing a palm to his arm.

"You’re so funny."

However, her face falls shortly after, her brows knitting together, laced with a curious gaze as she slides her fingers around his skin in search of the swallows inked onto his whole arm.

Matt tensed slightly, watching her fingertips skate across the ink on his forearm, brushing over lines and shading with gentle curiosity.

"Having fun there?" He wet his lips.

"Yeah." She nodded enthusiastically - too enthusiastically, because a second later, she froze as dizziness smacked into her like a truck for the second time.

Matt swore internally. His skin was heating way too much for a guy who had a fully intoxicated girl petting his arm like it was a damn artifact.

Okay. Time to move.

"Alright!" His voice came out way louder than he intended, and he immediately regretted it. He cleared his throat again, slowly untangling his arm from her grasp. "Stay right there."

And before she could even attempt a protest, he was already moving.

Y/N blinked as she watched him step out, rounding the front of the car in a few easy strides. His shirt riding up slightly, his keys jingling from his belt loop, his hair shifting slightly with the breeze.

And then, suddenly, he was right in front of her.

Without hesitation, he reached for her purse on the ground, slinging it over his own shoulder, and held out a hand.

"C’mon."

Y/N just stared at him. Then at his hand. Then at his very serious expression. Her brain took a moment before her arm finally moved.

The moment Matt’s fingers wrapped around Y/N’s hand, his skin was all she could feel.

His palm was warm, the kind of warmth that felt steadying. But it wasn’t just that. It was smooth, too, except for the slightly rougher patches right at the base of his fingers - the callouses from years of drumming.

Her drunken brain latched onto the detail immediately.

"Oh, wow." She blurted out, squeezing his hand. "Your hands are so soft. Like silk."

Matt blinked, looking at their joined hands for a second before glancing back up at her, his lips twitching.

"First time anyone’s ever told me they feel like silk. I’m flattered."

Y/N hummed dramatically, still holding onto him.

"You should be. It’s a big deal."

Matt let out a small chuckle before giving her fingers a quick, firm squeeze back.

With a giggle, Y/N finally let herself be pulled up, swaying a little too much in the process, but before she could even stumble, Matt moved, gently grabbing her arm, pulling it over his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

And wow.

Wow.

He was warm. And solid. And smelled like onion rings and rich cologne and some kind of softness that made her stomach flip in ways she refused to unpack right now.

"Watch your feet."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Matt had no idea what time it was when they finally reached her porch, but it was definitely late. The kind of late that made the streetlights buzz a little louder, the air feel a little colder, and his patience with this drunk, ridiculous girl stretch dangerously thin.

Not that he actually minded.

If anything, it was insanely cute how she was just sitting there now, slumped in the wooden chair like some kind of defeated heroine. Her arms were dangling off the armrests, legs stretched out in front of her, head tilted back dramatically, and mascara forming black trails below her eyes.

Matt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I said stay still."

Y/N let out a deep, theatrical sigh, still moving her legs like a swing.

"I am still."

Matt exhaled through his nose.

"No, you’re not. You’re-" He gestured vaguely toward her. "You'll fall from there."

She waved a limp hand in his direction.

"Whatever."

Matt groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. He had the idea that trying to argue with a drunk person was a lost cause, so instead of wasting his breath, he turned to the front door.

And then realized the next problem.

She wasn’t going to open it.

Because she was currently treating that wooden chair like it was a swing and she was a kid after school time.

Matt turned back to her, eyebrows raised.

"You got your keys?"

Y/N, still dramatically draped over the chair, gave him a lazy thumbs-up.

"Yup."

Matt stared at her expectantly.

She didn’t move.

Matt sighed.

"Okay. Where?"

Y/N blinked up at him. Then, as if the idea had just occurred to her, she pointed toward the black purse still dangling off his shoulder.

Matt stared at it, then back at her.

"Can I open it?"

Y/N, without even lifting her head, simply flicked her wrist in a dismissive gesture.

Matt huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.

"That’s not an answer."

She made the motion again, this time more dramatic.

Matt rolled his eyes but obeyed, carefully pulling the purse to the front of him and unzipping it. He was quick in the way he searched, making sure not to look too closely at whatever chaos was inside.

Luckily, it didn’t take long.

After just a few seconds, his fingers closed around a set of keys, the keychain a glittery pink monstrosity.

Matt smirked.

Shaking his head, he straightened up and moved to the front door, unlocking it with ease before turning back toward her.

And then came the next problem.

Because the second he reached out to help her stand, he realized just how much of a mess this was about to be.

Y/N, for all her earlier confidence, was absolutely useless on her feet now.

Like, actually useless.

The moment he pulled her up, she practically folded against him, her entire body weight leaning into his chest like she had no bones whatsoever.

"Jesus, dude." Matt barely had time to adjust, his arms scrambling to keep her upright. "You gotta help me here."

Y/N, her cheek now fully pressed against his shoulder, let out a content sigh.

"Mmm, comfy."

Matt let out a silent scream into the night.

This was impossible.

He couldn’t just drag her inside like some kind of caveman, and carrying her? Not happening. He wasn't the weakest, sure, but she was a whole human person.

So, instead, he opted for shuffling.

Painfully.

Slowly.

Awkwardly.

It was a process, but eventually, after what felt like an entire century, he managed to get her through the front door.

And the moment they stepped inside, he was hit with her world.

From the soft, warm lighting to the overflowing bookshelf in the corner to the cozy, mismatched cushions draped over the couch to the little Polaroid pictures stuck to the fridge.

It was lived-in, personal, comforting.

Matt blinked, taking it in for half a second before remembering the deadweight in his arms.

With a final exhale, he maneuvered them toward the big couch, practically collapsing with her as he eased her down, making sure she didn’t just flop like a ragdoll.

Once she was settled, he knelt beside her, hesitating before brushing some stray hair from her eyes.

"You good?"

Y/N, blinking sleepily up at him, nodded.

"Mhm."

Matt sighed, patting her knee.

"You should lay down."

Y/N huffed, but obliged, shifting so she could stretch out across the cushions.

Matt watched her for a second, waiting.

"You comfortable?"

Y/N, eyes half-lidded, gave him a slow, lazy grin.

"I would be more comfortable if you cuddled me, blue eyes."

Matt froze.

Yeah, okay. He should definitely go.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The unforgiving brightness of the sun pierced through Y/N’s closed eyelids, an intrusive, blaring light that made her face scrunch in discomfort.

Weird.

Her room had blackout curtains, ones she had spent way too much money on to ensure that early mornings wouldn’t include the added torture of daylight exposure.

Her brows knit together, confusion settling in before she even opened her eyes.

And then, slowly, she did.

Only to be met with the wrong ceiling.

Y/N blinked, her brain sluggishly catching up to the fact that this was not her bedroom.

Then, she registered other things; her body feeling heavy under too many layers of clothes, the sticky sensation of dried makeup clinging to her skin, and, worst of all, the absolute tragedy happening inside her mouth.

She groaned, twisting her face in pure disgust. It tasted like something had died on her tongue, and she vaguely remembered drinking... tequila? And maybe some kind of mystery cocktail that some random stranger shoved at her, saying it was a "game changer".

A game changer in what? Making her suffer?

Y/N sat up, immediately regretting it as a sharp, pounding pain erupted behind her eyes. Jesus Christ.

She squeezed her eyes shut, hands pressing against her temples in an attempt to soothe the pain, but nothing helped. It was the kind of deep, bone-vibrating headache that made every movement feel like an earthquake inside her skull.

After a minute - or maybe five - she finally forced herself to function.

She opened her eyes again, and this time, she really looked around.

Oh.

She was in her living room.

The TV. The coffee table. The faint scent of her vanilla-scented candle that had long since burned out.

Right.

Her mind buzzed, trying to connect the blurry pieces of last night.

The party. The drinks. The decision to go home.

And then... the Uber driver.

Y/N frowned, blinking slowly.

Her eyes drifted downward, and that’s when she noticed the glass of water and the bottle of painkillers sitting neatly on the table.

Her brows lifted in surprise.

Wow.

So, not only did the Uber driver make sure she got home safely, but he also took care of her after the fact?

Because she knows her drunk version, and she couldn't even sit straight.

That was... suspiciously thoughtful.

Y/N shrugged to herself, grabbing the glass and the medicine without question, tossing the pill against her tongue and gulping down the water like her life depended on it. And, honestly? It kind of did. The cool liquid washed away the awful taste in her mouth, making her sigh in relief.

And then-

BRRRRRRING.

Y/N flinched, eyes snapping toward the sudden noise.

Her phone.

Where the hell was it?

She groaned, rummaging around the blanket that was still wrapped around her before realizing. Her purse.

She reached over, dragging it toward herself, and as soon as she dug inside, her fingers wrapped around her phone.

She unlocked it immediately, her eyebrows furrowing as she scanned the recent notifications.

And that’s when she saw it.

A string of messages from her Uber app.

Her actual Uber driver.

UBER: Your driver has arrived.

UBER: Your driver is waiting.

UBER: Your driver is still waiting.

UBER: Your driver will be leaving soon.

UBER: Your driver has canceled your ride.

Oh.

Oh.

Her brain stuttered, slowly putting the pieces together.

So... she didn’t get into her Uber last night.

She left the poor guy stranded outside the party, probably cursing her existence, while she happily hopped into some random car.

Shit.

Y/N blinked down at her screen, processing the absolute chaos of her life choices when something caught her eye.

A small, folded note - clearly from her very much old notebook above her TV table - sitting neatly beside her purse, right below her hands.

Her brows lifted again.

She reached for it, flipping it open while glancing back at her phone, her brain still half-focused on her Uber driver’s angry messages.

And then, as she read the words, her heart did a weird little thing in her chest.

"Call me whenever you need a cool Uber driver again. Or, y’know, if you just wanna talk."

- Matt

Y/N stared at the note.

Then back at her phone.

Then back at the note.

And finally, it clicked.

She hadn’t just gotten into a random car last night.

She had gotten into a random guy’s car.

A very cute, very cool random guy’s car.

And instead of kidnapping her or doing something worse, he drove her home, tucked her in, left her water and medicine, and even gave her his number?

Y/N stared at the note for a long second, brain short-circuiting.

Then, she let out a laugh - soft and disbelieving - before grinning to herself.

Well.

This was definitely going to be interesting.

© vanteguccir

[tcffantfu276]

1. The First Time Dick Says It

Gotham Docks, 2 AM

A warehouse collapses, trapping Batman inside. The thermal scans show no life signs.

Tim, frantic “We need to call in the League! He’s gone—”

Dick, already digging through rubble: “He’s not.”

Jason: “Are you blind?! The scans—”

Dick, calm as a sniper: “If he were dead, my heart wouldn’t be beating.”

*Silence.*

Steph: “…That’s the creepiest thing you’ve ever said.”

Cass, nodding: “Truth.”*

Bruce crawls out of the wreckage 20 minutes later. Dick doesn’t even look surprised.

---

2. The First Time Bruce Says It

Blüdhaven, 3 AM

A bomb levels Dick’s apartment. Footage shows Nightwing’s mask in the debris.

Damian, voice shaking: “Grayson is… he’s—”

Bruce, sharpening a batarang: “He’s alive.”

Tim: “Bruce, the evidence—”

Bruce: “If he were dead, I’d feel it.”

*The Cave freezes.*

Jason: “Oh hell no. You’re both delusional—”

Alfred, sipping tea: “Master Dick *did* once sense Master Bruce’s appendicitis from three countries away.”

Dick calls an hour later, laughing: “Miss me?”

---

3. Jason’s Breaking Point

After a Joker gas attack “kills” Dick:

Jason: “Face it, old man. He’s *dead*.”

Bruce, not looking up from case files: “His pulse is steady. He’s undercover in Markovia.”

Jason: “*What the fuck* is wrong with you?!”

Dick, over comms: “Language, Jay. Also, hi.”

Jason chucks a smoke bomb at the Batcomputer.

---

4. Tim’s Scientific Meltdown

Tim rigs the Cave with biometric sensors to “study” their bond.

**Tim:** “Heart rates synced 98.7% of the time. Cortisol levels mirror each other. This isn’t love—it’s symbiosis!”

Dick, stealing his coffee: “Or we’re just *awesome*.”

Bruce, reviewing data: “…Fascinating.”

Tim: “NO. Not fascinating! This is clinically unhinged!”

---

5. Damian’s Reluctant Witness

Damian finds Dick mid-panic attack after Bruce is stabbed.

Dick, gasping: “He’s alive. He’s alive—”

Damian: “Father’s heart stopped for 37 seconds.”

Dick, fierce: “Then why am I still breathing?”

Damian stares. Later, he burns his “Grayson is Irritating” journal.

---

6. Steph’s Hilarious Take

Steph catches Dick humming while Bruce is “dead” (again).

Steph: “You’re weirdly cheery for a widow.”

Dick: “Check the news.”

Headline: BATMAN SAVES ORPHANAGE, STILL ALIVE, STILL HOT.

Steph: “You’re both the worst. Marry already.”

Dick: “Aw, you do care!”

---

7. Cass Sees the Truth

Cass watches Bruce and Dick fight back-to-back, movements mirrored.

Cass, signing: “One soul. Two bodies.”

Barbara: “Poetic. Also terrifying.”

Cass: Grins. *“Perfect.”*

---

8. The Family’s Final Verdict

*After the 12th “death” fakeout:*

Jason: “I’m adopting a dog. Dogs *stay dead*.”

Tim: “I’m writing a paper. The NIH will freak.”

Steph: “I’m selling merch. *‘I Survived the Bat-Bond’* tees.”

Damian: “I’m… *grateful*. Do not tell Grayson.”

Alfred: “I’m increasing the sedative dosage. For myself.”

---

Final Scene:

Bruce and Dick, bruised but alive, listen to the chaos from the Cave’s vents.

Dick: “Think they’ll ever get used to it?”

Bruce: “No.”

Dick: “Good.”

They fist-bump. Gotham sighs.

---

Post-Credits:

Jason’s dog “accidentally” destroys Tim’s biometric sensors. Cass frames Damian. Steph profits.

[answer2jeff]

this you knew.

warnings : (workplace) established but private relationship. fluff. that's about it actually.

also, this mostly just weirdly poetic and emotional writing. not a lot of plot or substance. sorry!

a/n: carmen refers to reader as "pico," short for "piccola" (small), and reader refers to carmen as raga, short for "ragazzone," (big boy) sorry if these nicknames are cringe they're cute to me !!!!

Fuck, it was cold.

Why did winter have to stretch out for such an excruciating amount of time? It had been snowing since late November—which, at this rate, might continue until March, give or take.

The holidays had just passed, stores were back open, The Bear was back under maintenance, leisure was nonexistent. There was no need for slush on the sidewalks and frost on your car window. You'd already spent the holidays with your extended family, even after swearing up and down you had no intention on coming home this year. Anything remotely related to that mistake needed to be disposed of.

Tonight was calm. Almost too calm. Richie and Marcus were still laying out the general foundation of the dining hall, and Carmen finally beat his record timing for passing through each station of the kitchen marked by green tape. You were pretty much free to go home. Especially since Sydney was the first to leave and encouraged you to do the same.

But just as you walked out of the empty kitchen space through the back door, something urged you to walk back in.

Just act like you forgot something.

Quickly swinging the door open and turning the corner into Natalie's office, where you knew Carmen would be, you stopped. Just barely near the frame.

Altered by your presence, Carmen snapped out of the trance that was staring at the empty space of the wall in front of him. He spun around in the 5-wheeled chair to face you.

"Raga?" you called out, not wanting to intrude as you stepped into the box of the office. Despite the door being wide open like it always was.

Raga. Sure, he wasn't a huge fan of petnames—but it made him feel like he was yours.

And he was. And you were his. Possibly for months now. And you even started to feel it. The word "boyfriend," though it wasn't used religiously, didn't feel bitter in your mouth. The way your name rolled off of Carmen's tongue was addictive to him. He preferred it over a simple 'she' when he spoke of you. You were chaos, but grace all in one.

You told your closest friends about a week after he spoke the words

"I don't really know what I'm doing, but that's—that's okay. It's more than okay. I want this."

But you hadn't told your family, and not even your true, chosen one. Which was here, in this restaurant, and everyone who played a part in it. But perhaps they already knew. Neither you or Carmen were particularly good at keeping secretes.

Just because your mouth stopped, didn't mean your body language or your face did.

Smiles and glances, whispers in corners of the restaurant incoherent to anyone else, his kisses against your temples that weren't as discreet as he hoped, it made it obvious.

But it felt right. This was okay. More than okay.

"Pico?" he repeated, mirroring that same skeptical voice you used just seconds earlier.

Eyebrows knitted with concern, your teeth gnawing at the inside of your cheek, you stood with your weight on your hip and your arms crossed against your chest. Carmen realized you stood like this all the time. But right now, he almost felt like he was in some kind of trouble; the way you eyed him above his level. Like you'd been looking for him and he failed to come to your assistance.

His urge to cave and melt into you was overwhelming. Big, blue eyes peered up at you as he leaned forward, prepared to listen. You only smiled while shrugging your shoulders and leaning against the doorframe.

"Think everybody went home. I didn't really see y'leave. Just—" you swallowed, "—wondered if you'd left or not."

That seemed to finally be enough to soothe him. You just wanted to know if he was here; if he was okay and ready to go home like he should've been.

"Uh—yeah, yeah, I'm still here."

"Yeah, I see that now."

The room stilled. Silence bounced off the drywall. But it was comfortable. It wasn't forced or unwanted. Just simple. And simplicity was scarce at the moment.

"C'mere," Carmen mumbled as he motioned his hand to signal you to come in, his voice barely audible, "just for a 'sec."

Caving in, his cadence and the look in his eyes being enough to convince you, you stepped in. He blinked slowly so as to not miss a single bit of you. For once, you could appreciate the slow of time in this room.

"I'm feeling really good about this," you smiled down at him, "this whole thing, I mean. Mikey woulda' been so proud 'f you, Carmen."

The lump in his throat was harshly swallowed back down as he nodded his head, not quite smiling, but not frowning either. You knew that face all too well. It was the face of guilt. He always wondered if he'd been doing the right thing. Lately it'd been easier to convince himself that the renovation was right, and that he was completely and fully capable of making these "adult decisions," as you called them.

"Thank you."

It was mostly thanks to you, though.

A delicate hand reached for a curl that fell just past his eyebrow. You wrapped the blonde strands around your finger, glancing from his eyes and back to his hair, just to see if he'd been watching you as closely as you hoped. Almost as if it had been second nature, he tilted his head up for easier access as you pulled away from his hair and reached to cup his clean-shaven cheek.

"I mean it, bear," your thumb gently caressed his skin as you spoke. He looked up at you as if he'd just found God in your eyes.

"I know," he tried to protest, giving you a weak smile and threatening to pull his head away.

But he waited.

There'd never been anyone in the universe, on the planet, in the country, in the culinary industry, in this city, or in this restaurant who saw through you the way Carmen Berzatto did. He'd been your head chef even before what was then, The Beef. You followed him back to his home city even months after the two of you made a pact to quit your last job as his sous, and his as your head chef. There was nothing you wanted more than to see him chase his stardom.

You loved him. This you knew.

"You're better at what you do than you'll ever give yourself credit for."

This he knew. At least now he did.

You took him in again with one look. His little moles here and there, his blue eyes, the rose of his cheeks. And at a moments notice, you leaned down to kiss him like it was the last thing you'd ever do. Carmen rose without even letting your lips separate. His hand planted itself at your waist as the other held the back of your head and gently buried itself into your hair. He tasted like cigarettes and mint with a hint of that bitter and filmy residue left on pill capsules.

He loved you. This you knew.

"Maybe you should give yourself some credit, too."

This you knew.

[tired-demonspawn]

seen a few plp on my timeline sharing their language's dub stobotnik moments

so! because i recently did watch all 3 movies in the czech dub while making extensive notes, here are a few stand outs :D!:

starting off strong with the mouthgrab scene. first of all i would like to establish that agent stone generally uses very formal and grammatically correct language.

however! while saying "everyone else is stupid" he uses very informal versions of the words, which are employed by robotnik constantly throughout the movie. it makes it crystal fucking clear that they have, in-fact, had this conversation before and he is just quoting him verbatim.

also everyone else is stupid is replaced with "snýst že ostatní sou blbý"(endure that everyone else is stupid) which idk why but it sounds more fruitier to me.

moving on, instead of “i love the way you make them!” he yells “i [adore/love] your lattes” (zbožňuju tvý latté!)

"do some rock-onnaissance" - "vyšutři to"(šutr - word for stone, vyšetřit - investigate) whoever came up with that is a legend and i love them.

guy that calls stone a freak, calls him "vole" which is a swear. straight up. pg movie btw. (there are worse swears out there but it still took me off guard)

while playing makeover, stone says "dokonalá nová imidž, sekáč." meaning "perfect new look, [slang for someone being particularly handsome]" which is INSANE.

while citing the manual, he cites the exact page number ("návod strana 50"), bro really memorised everything in that thang including the page numbers

instead of an HR complaint robotnik basically says they(TM) will send OSHA after him 💀("no skvěle, ještě na mě kvůli vám přijde inspekce bezpečnosti práce") weirdly enough it seems hes addressing team sonic, not stone. because if it was stone he was talking to, he would be using the formal you for him, which he never does throughout this entire movie series.

that leads me to the conclusion he’s using "vám" as a plural you instead of a formal you and is blaming team sonic for making the robot shake in a way that hurt stone. do with this information what you will.

moving onto movie 3, instead of "egg-sact my revenge" he says "snesu na něj pomstu jak slepice vejce"(i’ll lay revenge on him like a hen lays an egg) and then stone smiles :) he doesn’t have to go "see what I did there.", he just laughs at his jokes unprompted, hes so in love :)

“tady je”(here it is) instead of “found some” followed by “je mazaný”(“he’s sly” HELLO?????? WDYM BY THAT?????) as “resourceful” is doing things to me and i hope it does things to you too.

BRO SAYS “to je přesně náš vztah”(that’s exactly our relationship) INSTEAD OF “THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT WE ARE” VZTAH, while yes meaning any kind of relationship, AND ESPECIALLY THE WAY MY DUDE IVO HRBÁČ(stone's VA, kinda poetic someone called Ivo voices him, innit?) SAYS IT, HAS SUCH A ROMANTIC FUCKING CONNOTATION ISTG. FRUITY ASS MF.

also something to mention! my guy ivo(the VA) gives this role his all, or at least significantly more than the other VAs. from him really yelling in that booth both "he's baaaaccckkk!!!!" and "doctor! take me with you!" through the soft way he says "i can't lose you again" to my personal favourite(which made me get up from my chair and walk around my room for a bit to cool off): him sounding like he's on the verge of tears with "goodbye doctor".

Am i biased? yes. but im also correct in my assertion of him being the absolute highlight of this entire dub. so.

anyway that's that, thanks for reading :)

[saetiate]

BLUE LOCK - last updated 10/4/2025

tags for each chara go #fragments: bllk: [character] e.g.#fragments: bllk: sae | itoshi rin | oliver aiku | karasu tabito | mikage reo | nagi seishiro (also added to the tags on this post so you can just click there)

most popular forsaken by all the gods. - prince!kaiser x f!reader, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage [15k words, has smut] jealous sae oral f!receiving - smut [2k words] sae x f!reader x kaiser - smut [260 words]

fics are categorized by me as over 1k words

kaiser forsaken by all the gods. - prince!kaiser x f!reader, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage [15k words, has smut]

sae jealous sae oral f!receiving - smut [2k words] with you, a heart-known home - sae x f!reader fluffy domestic smut [3k words] sae x f!reader smut. portal sex, sigils drawn that mean the toy he fucks into = your pussy basically. p in v. [1.5k words]

ficlets are categorized by me as under 1k words

sae you broke up with sae for work and see him again after a year - sfw [350 words] sae fucks the jealousy out of you - smut, reader's mad at him for the media reporting he's dating someone else and he fucks you like it's an apology [489 words] sae x amnesia reader - sfw [717 words] sae gets jealous + feels bad he hasn't been making time for you + reconciliation - sfw [766 words] sae hitting on you at an event - sfw university!sae - sfw sae x reader comfort, cw reader has been abused, selfship coded, sfw being sae's athletic trainer - sfw [275 words]

kaiser sae x f!reader x kaiser - smut (also above) kaiser x reader, supernatural elements au - suggestive omegaverse, alpha!kaiser x omega!reader, fluff, shy reader - sfw, 800 words kaiser x reader fluff, gingerbread house making - with poetic stuff about reader not being feminine kaiser x f!reader first meeting - sfw

kaiser x reader x sae sae x f!reader x kaiser - smut [260 words] kaiser x reader x sae - sfw, fluff [200 words]

nagireo x reader / nagi x reader x reo childhood best friends nagireo x reader - suggestive pillow forts - sfw

chigiri chigiri x reader - suggestive fae!chigiri x reader - suggestive

reo arranged marriage, fingering - smut, 600 words

rin rin x reader wound-tending - fluff

fun posts are categorized by me as around 100 words and under

sae convincing sae to fuck you and him needing to see your face to get hard about dating sae on bad days - sfw why sae never asks you to stay - sfw, fluff sae loves you more and more every year - sfw ex bf u still hook up with - angst, sfw sae + pussyjob - smut, 66 words sae would love the way you are in love with him when you’re dating him - sfw, 136 words brat tamer sae christmas with sae - sfw snowed in with sae - sfw packing and donating things with sae - sfw asks about edging with sae: part one , two , three sae asks you if it's "too much?" - suggestive, 42 words pissing sae off - expansion: how to piss sae off sae speaking spanish during sex somnophilia and thighfucking tying you up w a vibrator until he gets home loves your crazy on the low sae x stray hybrid reader filming sex tapes behave texting

kaiser bar cart girl x rich ceo kaiser - suggestive fucking his frustration on a lost match out on you if you broke up with him because you felt like a burden to his career

nagireo x reader reo making you break up with your shitty boyfriend - offshoot one, offshoot two - sfw

reo reo + ceo x employee + he treats you special - sfw

rin comforting rin, sae gets jealous rin's gentleness with you rin drabble, being able to relax around you - fluff rin and body worship if you broke up with him because you felt like a burden to his career

oliver (#fragments: bllk: oliver) oliver loves to watch you get hit on by other people - [sfw, 22 words] oliver + garter toss - smut, semi-exhibitionism. expansion: shidou, kaiser, sae

everyone else karasu + praise kink - nsfw weirdly specific things blue lock men like to see you wear - suggestive, expanded on: karasu , karasu vs oliver , itoshi rin , kunigami karasu and oliver corruption - suggestive [93 words] bllk john wick au tiger hybrid reader with sae, kaiser, and isagi - sfw ness making you flustered - suggestive [88 words] valentines with sae vs rin shidou x fashion enthusiast reader - sfw reo and sae with you could not pay me to be your girl - expansion: kaiser if the blue lock characters selfshipped with you: reo, nagi, rin ; shidou itoshi soulmate difference between isagi and kaiser - analysis

others: gfx/webweaves kaiser, gfx: if you're raised with an angry man in your house kaiser webweave

back to main masterlist

[butch-bakugo]

Don't wanna be a party pooper system but the treatment of doey by the fandom isn't just becoming weirdly hyper focused on infantilizing ALL of doey's alters, not just Jack, but it's absolute obsession with tearing them apart back into singlets(non-sys) is 100% just becoming ableism at this point.

The first time I saw people making each of them have their own bodies by making smaller doey's with their colors to match, It kinda irked me but I could look at it through a lense of someone who isn't a system and see why it wouldn't occur to them that they are basically ableizing him/removing his mental disability in favor of cute tiny ones. It is bad to basically erase his mental disability period, it doesn't matter the reason.

But now it's super fucking common and it's starting to just piss me off. There's something so uncomfortable and insidious to specifically watch non systems go out of their way to physically rip a system apart into different bodies to make the character a singlets and then infantilize all of them so they can treat each of them like different people. It's like if an au came about that specifically gave a wheelchair bound character cyborg legs so they could walk and basically turned them into an able-bodied character and then everyone starting doing that au everywhere all the time. Y'all only think this is ok because you have no systems in your life period or none who will push back against you and DID/systemhood is a demonized and rarely understood mental disability.

Yes, it is weird and ableist that singlets are specifically obsessed with re-splitting doey into individual people. Not just in an ableist sense of making doey a singlet but also it's just kind of... Ooc? We see and hear the alters interact with each other and soothe each other and if doey wanted to be separated where each alter had their own hunk of dough, he would of done it by now. He would of split off on his own either at some point before we got there and Poppy's playtime would of mentioned it or while we were there. Except he doesn't and although there are plenty of alters within numerous systems who, if given the chance, would happily have a body of their own but that is not a common desire and certainly not the entire system. Not to mention this au is usually meant to be post-chapter 4 after doey's death. Are y'all literally killing the system to save the alter?? Like?? Healing for most systems isn't final fusion, it's healthy multiplicity. Also the fact y'all are basically implying that the only reason doey didn't like you was because he was a system and the only way for him to heal is to be forcibly ripped apart are quite literally just ignoring that doey was justified in attacking the player. Y'all blew up safe haven and killed everyone he loved, you would just have a bunch of really angry little doey's... That are all still systems. Even then to portray that the only way he could "heal" ( be nice to you as the player) is being turned into a singlet is quite literally starting to tip into eugenics.

I don't want to imply or suggest malice where it's not but there's something so poetic and gross about singlets just assuming that they know what's best for a system and the choice they immediately come to is completely ableifying him, separating his alters into their own bodies and force him to be happy about it. Out of all the aus that could become popular, their choice is to erase someone's disability. Oh, and infantilize every alter into tiny doeys that their grey ex-worker y/n must take care of like literal children... Despite 2 of them being older teens?

The Au is ableist, stopping splitting doey up. You are basically erasing his disability and trying to portray it as him "healing". Y'all look like the people who constantly give characters with amputations prosthetics even though the media showed them being happy without them then basically turn it into a normal arm with a sleeve and a joke.

It's just ✨ ableism and disability erasure ✨ at some point.

Non-systems/singlets in the Poppy's playtime fandom please reblog this, more people need to be aware of the implications they make with this au.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading TGCF: Chapter 37

For those who don't know, I am reading TGCF for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag Bloopitynoot reads TGCF. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read BUT if you followed along with my SVSSS read, the rules and vibe are the same.

I'm back!

Almost feeling rested, but not quite 100%. I have a few more post meeting tasks to work through and then I can finally chill out. My local is going into bargaining so it was a huge demand setting meeting that I organized and tomorrow everything formally gets submitted so the paperwork will be done.

In solid news (for me lol) I restocked my favourite white tea, so that is the tea of the day.

Let's get into the weirdest fucking chapter, chapter 37!

When the special interest kicks in and you forget you were in mortal danger. LOL p127

what a visceral description of this woman with her guts ripped open. So horrible but also why so poetic?? p129

oh god. "Land of the tender" is giving SVSSS energy. p132

What the fuck. Why the weirdly erotic flowers. I hate this lol. p133

This is ROUGH. Xie Lian! Also I feel so bad for this kid with him. What the heck. Accidental unbearably horny and awkward mission. p149

This artwork omg. Those slutty shoulders! p150

OOP. Is this why Hua Cheng is into him? the horny blood letting? p151

Jeeze. He's really stabbing the hell out of himself. :( p154

Feng Xin and Mu Qing here to save the day again! p155

You know what, good for Qi Rong for at least sending the most competent people p156

this is the third (maybe third) time this guy (Xie lian) has just not worn shoes. Is this a thing? Should I start a shoe count? p157

Xie Lian- perpetually cursed to chase bandaged boys across lifetimes. p158

ofc right when he's about to get the important information they get interrupted. p162

This was a weird one yall

The erotic plants better come back later or else this was a super fucking weird chapter for no reason XD

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

When the x reader tag is clogged by asks, memes, text posts, and people complaining about fanfic authors/or a lack of content😭😭

And don’t get me started on finding dc fics that aren’t Batfamily here, feel like I gradually like Jason less and less each year, he’s so overrated…

Like where are the essentials?? The fluff, the angst, the in character smut??

If you don’t mind me asking, what characters are you talking about?? Because I feel like this could apply to a lot of the characters on your Masterlist 😔

(Sorry for so many yap asks in a row, I just get so fired up about this.)

(Also, if this somehow ends up in any character x reader tags, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t intentional. Tumblr’s algorithm just works in mysterious ways like that.)

(Added a cut for this post cuz it’s kinda long.)

It’s so fucking frustrating, good lord. Especially the posts complaining about a lack of content. Not only does it make the actual legitimate writing content harder to find, but it’s also just completely tone deaf the current harassment problem happening to fanfic writers. Like, don’t get me wrong, I’m also bummed out about the reader-insert drought, but as someone who’s been harassed off of previous writing blogs, you have to understand how those kinds of posts hit a sore spot for me.

Ah, yes. Btfm (derogatory) (<- and also written like that to avoid showing up in the Btfm tag). There’s honestly no way to talk about my grievances with Btfm as a concept without people thinking I’m a pretentious gatekeeper, so I’m not even gonna open that can of worms. Also, sorry to all my Jason-enjoyers out there. I love y’all, mwah. You guys are totally welcome in my humble abode. Your man, though? Yeah, no. I’m forcefully pushing him out the door with a broom. And with the current state of the Dick tag, it’s just given me more incentive to utterly despise that guy. Bro really comes in and fucks up everything, both in and out of the comics, LMAO. Kind of poetic, actually.

I made the OG post about this because of Dick. You’re totally right about it being applicable to a lot of characters on my masterlist (eye twitch), but it’s definitely the comic book men that are suffering the most. Weirdly enough, this isn’t as prominent of a problem with anime men and video game men. Like, there are still irrelevant posts in their tags, but those are spaced out enough with legitimate writing posts for it to be a nonissue. My poor Dick tag, though… if it’s not filtered out yandere Btfm or Jason posts, then it’s the memes/text posts/complaints issue or unspecified CW smut posts (I am 100% an advocate for writing whatever the hell you want, but PLEASE give the proper warnings beforehand; that includes any mentions of the reader’s gender).

I just… yeah. I’m taking one for the team and going back to totally SFW writing. We really are missing the essentials right now and it’s hurting the reader-insert ecosystem. I’ll drop the blog url when I finally post something.

(Also, before any of y’all translate this as me abandoning this blog, I’m not, don’t worry. I’m still working on shit here. Always have been. Nevah stopped the grind. I do want y’all to keep in mind that I write as a hobby, so there’s really no such thing as “a break” from this blog, and if anything, this blog is my “break” from life. A little treat from the horrors, if you will. Trust me, I wish I could post more often, but… nothing I can really do about real world responsibilities and stuff. Bwomp.)

But, yeah. You know what they say, be the change you wanna see in the world. I guess I owe it to the people after complaining so much about this. Lowkey, I think that’s also why the complaining posts rub me the wrong way. Why clog up the tags even further when you can take this as an opportunity to get a little creative? I don’t wanna write for people who just view me as a reader-insert ChatGPT, y’know?

^ And when I say this, I by no means wanna shame anyone from sending in asks. I have a lot of bangers in my inbox that I just haven’t had the time or motivation to sit down and think about (also, I really want my next writing post to be part 4 of my Older Brother series, so that’s what all of my energy has been going into recently). Y’all are such a great crowd, and I need you guys to understand how refreshing this is compared to my past experiences. Love each and every one of you, MWAH.

[merelyafigment]

Watching Severence S2 Ep4 Woe's Hollow and...

I'm. I'm sorry, are we listening to the story of how Keir heard his twin brother jacking off in the woods? In weirdly poetic terms, no less.

I was perfectly fine without hearing that story. And why is no one reacting to it?

... dude, and then the brother dies with blame placed on wantonness and calling him chaos's whore?!

What. The. Fuck. Happened. In the woods??

Keir, did you kill your twin brother for being horny? Or was there no brother at all?

(This is the first time I've thought Helly R. is there and not Undercover Helena, though, because she cracks up and calls out the mastuburation leads to melting story.)

[howelljenkins]

hi this is so random but i need to wax poetic. you have no obligation to reply to this. also i do not mean this in a parasocial way at ALL lmao i recognize that idk you trust. i first found ur blog in 2020 as a eighth grader in lockdown that was completely lost. i had lost my uncle to covid during that time and went from being a stellar student to receding into my shell and watching my grades tank. my shit home situation and undiagnosed depression led to me sinking into any form of escapism possible, mainly thru the form of books. i was super obsessed with perry johnson LMAO at the time and had all the time in the world to look into the fandom. this was around the time the unnamed author was just, like, violently and belligerently racist and scathing to any fans that questioned otherwise. being a tumblrina, i went to this site to see people comment on this, only to find you and ur mutuals were the only people openly discussing how he was just plain vile. i remember how sickened i felt seeing how you and other people of color were getting doxxed and threatened for pointing out what i thought was incredibly obvious. as a rlly sheltered person of color, this was the first time it struck me that the world was lying about how much they were actually willing to stick up for us, as before that i was just stupidly optimistic. anyways bc of that i started checking ur blog like EVERYDAY because of how much your words resonated with me. i was in complete awe of just how witty you were, and how you took no shit from people. granted this was a defense mechanism from crazy ass white fandom bitches but it was still weirdly inspiring. i still remember seeing u pull out the yale trap card so often and being like, oh shit this girl is something else lol thats hysterical. for the rest of high school i would keep up to date with u and specifically ur writing and poetry on promethes. kal i need you to realize your words actually rearranged my brain. the poems about your great grandfather, your mother, your pos friend, of being a horror, to love and to be loved is rest, everything EVERYTHING is etched into my memory. i really feel like i stumbled onto the modern fucking plato or something. anyways my critical thinking skills and love of poetry both are strongly influenced by you. i used to be the kind of person that hated everything and couldnt bear the thought of tolerating this world for another second. but your unyielding positivity and optimism, and insistence that kindness being the more difficult choice is inherently more radical really changed me. ik u didnt invent that or yadda yadda but u really made it seem real. im still learning to take each day slower, to breathe in a little deeper, but the beauty of so many things i previously dismissed is so obvious to me now. that post you made about you and ur mutuals educating a whole generation is so true lol. so just thank you. honestly thank u thank u thank you from the bottom of my heart. im a senior now who just submitted my yale application tonight and thought of you and im a little drunk right now so i think thats why i wrote this whole ass essay but just. like idk. u changed me and idek know you. i made my friend who got into princeton a trap card bc urs was so inspiring lol. anyways i truly hope you have a peaceful happy life and a good night. your soul is really such a beautiful thing and you deserve the world pls never settle for anything less

idc if it’s parasocial i love u and want the best for u and know u will go far and i almost doxxed myself by telling u the city i live in so u could look me up if you’re ever here lol. ik im a stranger or whatever but im proud of u idc ur like my adopted little sibling now. also @taumoeba yale card inspiring generations

[the-cookie-of-doom]

ooooOOOOOO HOW ABOUT SOME JEFFCEST? when the storm breaks???? 👀👀👀👀

send me an ask and I'll tall you about one of these WIPs

This is my Rain God/Sunshine/Ghost/Evil Science Husband marathon sex PWP that's also like. 5 chapters long with a prequel and a sequel 🤡 I've drawn a bunch of spicy art for it that tumblr unfortunately won't let me post, too. Essentially it's a combination of acekimagenda's idea that Rain is the only one who could dom Sunshine + my idea that Ghost is Rain's Goodest Boy.

I won't get too into it bc there's an actual hint of plot that I don't want to spoil, but essentially: Sunshine is Husband's first (successful) clone, and Sunshine has a lot of resentment about it. Esp with Ghost being the last one, and him being obviously Husband's favorite because he's so sweet and perfect, not like crazy, violent Sunshine. He ends up with weirdly biblical daddy issues/kink from it, in a Frankenstein kind of way. (Doesn't literally call Husband "daddy", but refers to him as Creator and sometimes as Father in the religious sense). And then they all fuck about it <3

Unlike their darling Ghost—the last of his true creations—Sunshine couldn’t find an ounce of sympathy within himself for the other man. He only wished he’d been there to bear witness. Though he supposed seeing the results would have to suffice. The scientist, once so proud and arrogant, left a broken wretch in the wake of endless tests, poking and prodding and injecting and cutting, his downfall wrought by his own design. Poetic.  Of course, bleeding heart that Ghost was, he’d rescued their creator from His purgatory. Put Him all back together again like a faithful little puppet. He refused to resent Him for his own treatment. Naive boy. Oh, how Sunshine adored him. Especially when Ghost’s tender care meant he could break their creator all over again, take Him apart piece by piece knowing Ghost would be there to stitch those pieces back together, and so the cycle would renew. Again and again and again.  It was only fair.  Electricity pulsed at the base of Sunshine’s spine, lightning arcing through the vertebrae and straight into his brainstem, tearing a strangled cry from his throat.  “You are wandering,” came a low, thunderous voice that rumbled straight into his empty core. Fingers dug into his lower back, still sparking with tantalizing little licks of plasma. Sunshine wondered if they scorched his skin.  “A little,” he admitted on a breathy laugh, delighting in the displeased hum he received in response. Rain didn’t like to be ignored. He had that same egotistical quality as any deity, the same as his creator, that demanded attention. Devotion. Worship. But Sunshine bowed for no man, nor god. Not willingly—not without incentive.  “Insolent,” Rain murmured, cool mist dripping from even colder lips and curling around Sunshine’s ear. He shivered.  Rain drew himself back, up to his full height, and dragged Sunshine along with.  While Ghost made love to their creator on the bed, Rain pinned Sunshine against the foot of it, hard oak driving into the sharp jut of his hip bones. The insistent press of Rain’s hand at his lower back wasn’t nearly enough to make Sunshine bend to his will. He continued to stand proudly, ignoring the shadow-cloaked presence looming at his back, even as the static in the air around him made every one of Sunshine’s hairs stand on end.  “Why must you make everything difficult?” Rain asked, sighing, a gusty breeze that tousled Sunshine’s hair. “Your pride does not serve you well.” “I think it does.” Look at what his pride has earned him: his creator brought low, a slave to the very things He’d made to serve Him. A celestial deity, a storm made flesh, a god, answering to his pleasure. And Ghost, darling boy that he was, looking up to Sunshine as if he were a god himself, always with such wonder in his big brown eyes. Innocence, as well, that Sunshine could never seem to shake, no matter how he tried to taint him.  “Hmm.” Rain stroked a light hand all the way from the base of Sunshine’s spine to the nape of his neck, where he held him firmly. A final chance to submit. Sunshine refused. “Very well.” 

[majorasnightmare]

being one of the people completely immune to raphaels apparent sex appeal (???) in bg3 is so fucking funny because ill see someone wax poetic about him and ill just be like. him???? thats the guy were talking about???

like gortash i GET okay. hes a greasy little raccoon but unfortunately he also just keeps stacking Ws in the funniest way possible. hes charismatic and weirdly earnest and openly a freak who commissions weird art. like he sucks but he sucks in an enjoyable way

raphael though??? dude OOZES desperation from the GET GO. even if you WANT to side with him, he straight up doesnt let you in act 1 and just makes you leave. he hires a stalker who doesnt even hide herself that well. his big negotation tactic is to loudly announce he has a macguffin, unprompted, followed by doxxing himself, before asking if youll pretty please mega promise to let him become god because reasons. and then you pickpocket his diary and find out hes been having Artistically Symbolic Nightmares about you specifically. the plot item hes been coveting since the beginning of civilization got stolen from his dads house (who also hates him) by the loser racoon he bought for $20 and near immediately forgot about, and the serial killer who lives in the sewer that the racoon befriended. hes canonically bad at sex and only fucks a copy of himself, or when hes feeling spicy, him but forcefemmed.

the only other character he tries to manipulate into a contract onscreen (as most of his contracts happen OFFscreen and we are told hes Very Good At Devilling) is a homeless child hes bullying, that he isnt even bullying competently. raphaels biggest w is a series of coincidental fuckups that all happen to occur close together that he contracts yurgir into cleaning up, and then tries to contract YOU into cleaning THAT up because its all rapidly falling apart and hes panicking. MIZORA is better at his job than he is because at least mizora manages to box wyll into a corner, whereas raphaels ego is so inflated he lets you pick your own poker hand out the deck then cant figure out why he isnt winning

like i just can not understand the appeal of this guy. id kinda understand if it was like hyping up your cringefail loser bf but every horny post i see feels like its from an alternate reality where he doesnt open every negotiation with "Have you braced yourself for my ultimate debate technique? 😏😉 You cant POSSIBLY hold out against it. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I REALLY REALLY WANT YOU TO DO THIS PLEASE" and then cries himself to sleep thinking whatll happen if you say no. his VA does a fantastic job yes i wont deny it, and its extremely based that hed be cool for voicing a raphael romance mod, but i feel like theres a mirror world where hes a suave dominating brooding love interest that i only see in glimpses through twitter posts and ao3 summaries

[twipsai]

MAJOR SPLATOON SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!!! <this is mostly a caution for my friend whos going thru splatoon rn lolz hi Bee if ur reading this

screenshotting this post w/out the url and im turning rbs off cuz i dont wanna start beef, but like. i have never seen a more stupid fucking opinion of rotm. are you fucking kidding me.

first of all, the conflict between inklings and octarians was one-sided in modern times. it was simply a suffering civilization trying to take revenge on on whom they believed to be their enemies, not even knowing that the war they had fought is long dead and the inklings that inhabit the surface would welcome them with open arms. because, let me get one thing very clear: all of the weird racism metaphors in octo expansion are literally just a result of poor translation with the original being nowhere NEAR as overt in how they portray octolings as a sort of "stand-in" for the struggles that poc face irl. obviously, theres some tension between the two species, but there was never a story thread about this conflict. ya feel?

(^THIS SECTION IS WORDED WEIRDLY AND ISNT ENTIRELY REFLECTIVE OF MY OPINIONS ABOUT THIS PORTION OF THE GAME CUZ IM SLEEPY!!!!)

second of all, are we forgetting the part where the splatlands WERE effected by the Flood? it literally flooded the entire land!!! but instead of this dividing the people who inhabited it, they came together and drained it. drained it into Alterna. which is WHY we see these different tribes lasting in modern day with Deep Cut, why we see inklings and octolings living side-by-side with zero tension, and yet recognition and celebration of each others differences. is that not beautifully poetic?

we even see the fact that octarians have integrated back on the surface with the technology being used, particularly the use of floating machines! theres even octarian language on the splatana stamper! all of this life that was breathed into the game is all around you and it takes so little effort to just look!

i just wanna make one thing clear: so far, ALL of splatoons hero modes have been caused by humanity, be it directly or indirectly. in splatoon 1 and 2, we see the long-term effects of octarians living underground for 100 years rear its head and lash out, trying to survive. conditions underground are harsh. why are they underground in the first place? they lost the great turf war. a fight for land due to the rising sea levels. which was LITERALLY CAUSED by a nation 12000 years ago dropping a bomb on Antarctica as an intimidation tactic, as well as general global warming reaching a tipping point after wwV.

octo expansion? a broken machine left behind by humanity goes insane in its loneliness and tries to perfect the new intelligent life after sitting and watching for so long. splatoon 3? the last mammal, in its grief, tries to regain what he has lost.

the entire franchise is about letting go of the past, living in the moment, and looking forward to the future. half the songs naming conventions are based around momentum. its now or never.

how can you not see how this game has built its world so beautifully? it just makes me sad to think about

people are entitled to their own opinions, and its fine if you didnt like splatoon 3's story. but why are you, in a game franchise that ends with the line "the times have changed. the world can never be as it was. moving forward... is the future" so stuck in what could have been?

[fipindustries]

tagged by @st-justt-just these are always an issue for me because i dont have a "Playlist" of any kind, i just let youtube put together playlists on my recomendations page so with that in mind, lets see what comes up.

Bradinsky on violin - [tetris tengen] by bradis fuller - funny thing about this, you may hear it and think "ah yes, a song inspired by classical russian folk music". in reality is a fully original song made by the composer. hence the BRAD-insky.

Ya te vas a mejorar (speed up) - el cuarteto de nos - i like this version of the song about a guy who gets brain damage and becomes a chainsaw murderous maniac over the original. is not quite nightcore but its certainly more energetic.

Aikendrum - Ewan Maccoll - i got this out of a cute webcomic about jekyll and hyde. i have no idea what this song is about but i sure do love the scottishness of it all. aikendrum aikendrum is a great catchphrase.

As your father i expressly forbit it - Neil cicierega - the theme of this song is so weird for a neil cicierega song. is about such a intimate, mundane topic and the double punch of this and earn my life is actually kind of brutal to hear in spirit phone.

Noches de boda - Joaquin sabina - i fucking love the intro of this song by chavela vargas, i remember when i first heard this song i thought it was some old guy but no it was one of the most famous female singers from mexico. as an argentinian there is something delightful about hearing a spaniard and a mexican singing together like old friends. great fucking song to sing drunk out of your ass at 4 in the morning

El cisne que ladra - maria elena walsh - my love for children songs continues undaunted, specially the songs by elena walsh. there is something very otherverse about this song in particular because its about a thieving swan who goes to a lake one night and steals a treasure hidden in that lake. then the next morning when the sun comes out you cant see the treasure anymore because the swan stole it but it turns out the treasure were the night stars being reflected on the lake, its just so beautifully poetic

California heaven [mashup of california girls by kathy perry and heaven by envy, plus a bunch of other songs] - Jason rollins - i just discovered this guy a few weeks ago because he just started doing this a few months ago and he turned out to be such an incredibly strong entry in the genre of weird, deep fried, dense mashups. i highly reccomend to listen to the rest of his channel

Octopus garden -the beatles - i saw a documentary about why the beatles broke up recently and knowing that this song was composed by ringo as the team was going through deep tensions and fights about to separate makes this song so much more heartbreaking. ringo just wanted for him and his friends to get along and be happy on an octopus garden beneath the sea. jesus dude, me too.

Desaparecido - Manu chao - weirdly political song for what i usually listen to. a song about the experience of illegal immigrants living in the united states without papers. one funny thing about manu chao is that he is famous for many spanish songs that talk about the hardships of the latin american experience and the guy is fucking french. i genuenly could not have been able to tell just from listening to him.

Brindo por las mujeres - Los rodrigez - just a fantastic song by one of my favourite singers from my country, andres calamero. another great fucking drinking song to yell drunk off your ass with friends at 4 in the morning and frankly a great way to end this list

honestly i am rather proud of how incredibly ecclectic is this list, i think this is a pretty good crossection of the wide range of my musical tastes

im tagging @not-terezi-pyrope @ericvilas and @mrcatfishing