#bloggy hell

[cicadaland]

why do tumblrinas just forget entirely about misogyny 😭😭😭😭 hooters exists because of the objectification of women in american culture its not that complicated

[kingdom-of-ire]

Why can't you see that you are my child?

[dogboysora]

Why is the Dropout tag suddenly full of discourse about wanting trans women on the cast? I think that's a valid feeling/opinion to have, but like. Feel like I'm missing something.

[mikiruie]

𓈒⠀⠀⠀⠀︵︵ ⠀◟ † ◞ ⠀︵︵ㅤ⠀⠀⠀⠀𓈒 ⠀

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ♫₊ ⊹ 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓶𝓮 𝓱𝓸𝔀 : 𝓂𝑒𝓃 𝒾 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓈𝓉 ﾟ。ꪆ୧. 𝓹𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻 𝓸𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓮 𓂃 ˖ ˚◞✧

── TETSURŌ KUROO ﹕ 黒尾 鉄朗 ┊͙ HAIKYUU!! ◝✩

𓋜 hq. masterlist // general masterlist.

premise. thunderstorms scare you greatly. but thanks to your cute neighbour, you know you’ll be okay after all.

content. tetsurou kuroo / f!reader. fluff — sfw. reader is a scared of storms, mainly thunder. power outage. set ambiguously post highschool / in a university au setting. some angst if you squint + comfort. neighbours -> lovers.

word count. 4k-ish.

soundtrack. show me how : men i trust.

dedicated to beloved @tetsuskei , happy birthday ! ‹𝟹

écoute chérie! ᰔ updated repost from old bloggie , i haven’t beta it fully and sorry it’s nothing that is quite new but i hope that this one’s still a worthwhile read for you ^_^

03:24

You barely manage to catch the flickering lights of your dining room's lamp glitch out repeatedly from the corner of your eye, the lights inside your dingy apartment appearing to go haywire as constant streams of raindrops pound against the glass of your windows.

With each passing second they seem to multiply tenfold of the previous, their impact upon crashing into each other sometimes merging with one another in sync to form a continuous stream of running water trickling down the brick walls of your complex instead of the constant buzz of millions of tiny water droplets.

The soft glow from your lamp dims momentarily before stalling to a staggering halt. Your hopes of it reigniting by itself are quickly dashed when you see it attempt to start back up again for a few seconds before going completely dead. And after a few seconds of the darkness swallowing your apartment whole a disgruntled sigh escapes your lips as you close your textbook.

“Ah, damn it . . .” You bemoan into the blanketing sea of black ahead of you. “Not again . . .”

Slowly you stand up from your seat at the dining table, cautiously pushing your chair back just a little as to not hit the rest of your furniture before carefully maneuvering your way through the dark of your living room.

“Where the hell did I put that flashlight . . . ?”

You really should've thought to charge your phone and powerbank ahead of time when you heard a thunderstorm was making it's way to your city on the news earlier. Now with a dead cellphone battery and an empty powerbank, you're left to fend for yourself amist the unknown layout of your apartment without a light source.

Scuffling around in the dark, you take a step forward, miscalculating how much distance there is infront of you as you find yourself accidentally ramming your shin against the side of your unusually hard bookshelf, sending you reeling in agonizing pain stomach first and flopping right onto your couch.

Ouch.

Your teeth grind against each other as you hold your shin, wincing while rocking slightly in an attempt to alleviate the pain. “God, that did not sound good . . .” You can't see through the near pitch black lowlight of your apartment, but you're almost certain a nasty bruise may have begun to form on your skin from that.

A few more minutes of stumbling finally merits you to where you had originally intended to end up in the first place— the supply closet.

Feeling around for the door's surface your hand manages to find it's grip onto the smooth metal handle, twisting it open and carefully reaching out into the darkness.

“It should be on the second shelf . . . or was it the third? Fuck, I really can't see anything right now . . .”

Your fingers brush up against the elastic wrist tie of the flashlight (it was on the third shelf after all, go figure) and you impatiently snatch it from off the pile of other assorted junk you've haphazardly thrown in there throughout the years.

All you hear is a soft click within the suffocating silence as you turn on the device before your eyes are bombarded by a bright white flash, the sudden overload causing you to stumble back a bit into the wall of your apartment, blinking repeatedly to soothe the burn in the back of your retinas.

Maybe it's not the best idea to hold a flashlight so close to your face while it's aiming (or pointed) directly into your eyes.

Using your newly gained lightsource you make your way to the fuse box in your kitchen, now being able to easily navigate your way through the dark you give yourself a moment to stop and glare at the corner of your bookshelf that you'd run into earlier.

“Asshole,” you mutter underneath your breath through gritted teeth as you pass it by, as if you’re expecting the sharp piece of oak furniture to respond to you with a mind and voice of it’s own conscience. Though you suppose that’d might be just a little bit creepy considering your current situation.

Opening the fuse box, you shine the glow from your flashlight onto the many circuits housed within, eyes trailing down and scanning each one for the labels of what light they control.

Experimentally switching the one for the living room on, you glance outside your kitchen and into the hallway to check, only to be met with shockingly apparent disappointment as you greet the nothingness of the night that stares right back at you.

Just as a confirmation (and because you're stubborn), you switch a couple more of the circuits on and off repeatedly, disappointment maring your features yet again when they yield no results. “No power at all . . .” You deduce, closing the fuse box’s lid with a begrudging huff.

A deep crackle of thunder booms from the sky outside, startling you as you nearly drop the flashlight in your hands if not for the wrist tie securing it. A few seconds of heaving and checking outside your kitchen's windows— only to see more rain than you could ever possibly need in three lifetimes —causes you to ease up a little.

You feel a chill run down your bare arms, goosebumps rising all over the backs of your legs. The short sleeves and pajama shorts combo you chose to wear tonight probably was not doing much to keep you warm with the raging rain thumping down and the strong winds howling just outside of your apartment.

The sudden sounds of gentle knocking at your door cuts through the silence of your empty apartment, the hairs on your back shooting straight up in surprise. The flashlight in your hand falls and clanks onto the ground, the beam of light switching off on impact.

Cautiously, you make your way over to the door, uneasy as your hands hesitate to lay on the knob. Who else could be up at this late hour?

Your eyes squint through the tiny peephole of your door, zoning in on a familiar head of unruly black hair, donned in a worn out old highschool volleyball hoodie, red and white and matching cat motif logo on the front and back to top it all off. With noticeable bags underneath his eyes matching your own, you can tell that whoever it is has been staying up as late as you have these days.

You can't quite see much or well for that matter through the tiny peephole's space, but he patiently waits outside with an uneasy look on his face, hands shoved into the frayed pockets of his sweater and pacing around anxiously across the small space of your apartment’s door mat.

With your heart rate spiking back down to normal levels, you pick up the dropped flashlight and place it onto your dining table hastily before slowly opening the door to him. Startled, he jumps back a little once he actually sees you in front of him, as if he wasn't expecting you to be awake at this time.

You give him a polite smile, tired eyes lifting with all the glee you can muster up for him.

"Hey, Kuroo. Nice night, isn’t it?”

He chuckles a little at that, bringing his hands out of his pockets when he does, force of habit. You notice the pearly whites of his canines poking out from his lips when he grins. It suits him well.

“Yeah, it is. And you know I told you that it's okay to call me Tetsurou.”

"Right, right. My bad.” You jest, and his smile then melts away slightly, molding itself into a more worried expression that soon dawns his handsome face. “You doing alright?” He asks you worriedly, craning his head aside to check the dark of your apartment.

His voice has a low timber to it, quiet to not disturb the neighbours you presume, but you also like to think it’s to soothe your own jittery nerves. “Heard the entire building's power just got wiped by the storm.” He informs. “Was told by the front desk that it won't be back for another few hours.”

Of course it won't be back for awhile, the electricians can't really do much while the thunderstorm rages outside. You doubt anyone in the building who was asleep by now would even notice there had been a power outage tonight, most people aren't awake at the acceptable hours of 3AM working on their overly procrastinated capstone projects anyways to even care about the torrential rain pouring just outside their windows.

“Can I come inside?” Tetsurou asks you without a second thought on his mind before stopping himself, hurriedly backtracking himself and tripping over his own words whilst making funny hand gestures to explain his intentions.

What was that sign he just made? It might've meant Apple in JSL, his skittishness makes you giggle into your fist. “I mean, if it's okay with you. I know it's late and all, and that you probably want to sleep but I—”

You cut him off with a giggle of your own. “Tetsurou,” you interrupt, his cheeks dusting a light shade of pink in the darkness when you do.

Your laughter. It sounds just like bells to him, akin to the raindrops that hit your windows with a light tinkle each time they fall from the clouds above. Wind chimes in the raging storm that falls around you two and lighting crackles behind him, illuminating your bright face for him. And despite your groggy disposition, he can still make out the tired pleasure you have in chatting with him through your features.

“I don't mind, you can come inside. You must be cold standing out here,” You offer with a lighthearted chuckle. “I know I am and l'm just in the doorway.”

You take him by the hand, his skin is cold and dry, just as you expected from the frigid air as you guide him into your barely lit apartment.

He stumbles a bit through the front door “H— hey!”trying to remove his shoes by the entrance and laying them by the door mat, bringing with him two large blankets tucked securely under his arms you hadn't noticed him carrying in the darkness.

Tetsurou's eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness, squinting and zoning in on the little stack of books piled up at your desk, the flashlight you were using placed just beside an open notebook.

“You're still trying to work on that assignment?” He asks, setting the blankets down on a chair as you slide into your own, clicking the flashlight on and shining it down on your pages.

Most of what’s written down in the beginning of the pages is legible albeit a bit messily rushed, soon devolving into unintelligible scribbles that he realized must’ve happened once the power went down.

“Yeah, it's due soon.”

“There's a storm outside.” He states matter of factly, chin folded into the crook of his hands as he leans on the backside of the chair. You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the obviousness of the situation.

“And?”

“Just, come here.” You feel his hand reach out into the darkness, standing you up from the table with mild disagreement from you as he reels you into his side. “Relax with me a little, let's go sit on your couch together. I brought blankets for a reason.”

“I can use one while working at the dinner table.”

The frown that tugs at Tetsurou's lips is barely noticeable in the absence of any light, but he whines audibly to let you know his stance on that statement as he squeezes his arm around you a bit tighter. “That sounds uncomfortable, though.”

“It's fine.”

“But isn't it better to huddle together for warmth?” He suggests playfully, “Y’know, no power n’ heat.”

You think his compromise over for a moment, and he senses the hesitation brewing inside your mind because he adds onto his previous offer with a convincing. “I promise it'll be good.”

Lighting flashes outside your window for a split second, followed by the loud seismic boom of thunder that takes you out of your thoughts and causes you to flinch in his hold. Instinctively he jumps in sync, pulling you into a hug as your heavy breathing fills the silence of your apartment.

Seconds tick by on the clock hanging on your wall, as it seems like the heartbeats of both you and Tetsurou meld into one beat. Your heart thrums in your chest in an uneven marimba of beats, loud and reverberating with the near silent ringing that’s paired with it in your ear.

Tetsurou hesitates to say anything for a moment, unease wracking him before he speaks. “Are you . . .” He looks out the window, his voice drawling on low and quiet even though the only two people here are you and him, as if he's about to ask something he shouldn't. “Are you scared of thunder?”

". . . No."

He pauses with what you can only imagine to be an unconvinced look on his face. “That sounds like a yes to me.”

“I'm an adult.” You huff, trying to break out of his hold and back to your pile of due papers. “I don't get scared by thunder like a little kid.” Tetsurou barely catches the “anymore” you mutter underneath your breath over the screech of you pulling out your chair again. His hold on you not only tightens but he drags you to the couch, much to your protests and complaints.

“Y’know, you're not a very good liar,” he grins cheerfully, plopping you down beside him before reaching over you to drape a thick blanket over your shivering body. Were you always this cold?

You try to move your hands to lift the blanket off, to stand up— but it's unusually heavy.

It traps your arms underneath it, feeling like a net he prepared and used to condemn you to the couch with it’s plush softness and cozy knit material. But in a surprisingly nice and caring way.

“Is this blanket weighted?” You ask and he agrees with a hum, draping the other one he bought over himself with a relaxed sigh before shifting his body closer to yours. Heat radiates off of him, seeping into the couch and warming your chilly figure.

“Yeah, I got them on sale luckily. I've found they're really good for rainy nights.” You can't deny that now that you've gotten a taste of what it’s like to be underneath one of these usually pricy blankets and to have this as almost like a barrier from the cold rain and air outside, you're already warmer than you were just a few moments ago.

You wrap the heavy woolen blanket tighter around your body, inhaling the scent it carries with it in it’s fibres. The fabric smells like him. “Thanks, Tetsurou.”

Another crackle of lighting blasts inside your living room through the window, peeking through the gap of your curtains as thunder follows closely in suit. It's louder this time, and seemed to be a lot closer to your apartment than the other ones from before.

Your hands slam over the cups of your ears to shield them from the thunderous booms, they feel weighed down by the heavy blanket as you bury your head into the thick material, closing them as like an extra precaution from the storm outside.

You don't even realize you're shaking until you feel a hand smooth over you back. Tetsurou's.

You can barely make out his voice with your hands blocking your hearing, only the worried asks of “Are you okay?” It's muffled and quiet, and his hand rubs soothing circles into your back as you barely manage to move your head to a nod. More thunder comes and Tetsurou's eyebrows knit together as you frantically switch to shaking your head no, feeling it drop further into the blanket in shame. Your heart falling out of your ribcage in sync with it as the storm outside won’t stop taunting your shivering self.

The small raindrops that crash against your window feel like they're right up against your ears, the bright lighting that races across the sky's edge stings your eyes to look at it, even if you shut them as tight as can be. And that god awful thunder, the thunder that makes you feel like your dingy apartment might crumble underneath it's roar, crashing to the floors below as the trees outside cave in on you from above.

“This is so embarrassing . . .” Tetsurou hears you mutter as you lift your head off of your lap to face him, fear written all over your features and you look like you're about to cry in the presence of your next-door neighbour.

Your voice cracks, and you think you'd prefer if the floor underneath you did fall through after all. “I just really hate storms . . .”

A weak chuckle escapes your lips as you wipe away the tears that prick at the corners of your eyes, attempting to lighten up the situation for Tetsurou. You don't want to make him feel uncomfortable by crying in front of him when you were the one who invited him in, so you laugh off the uncomfortable twinge in your chest for his sake.

“I guess I really am like a little kid,” You joke lightly, a whine trailing off the tail end of your sentence. “Look at me, afeaid of thunder and lighting like I'm still four.”

Tetsurou doesn't laugh at your self deprecating jab, and you feel your stomach drop at the suffocating lack of a response.

Would you have preferred if he laughed? No, not really— but it felt awkward to have only silence between the two of you in the heat of the moment. His eyes seem to twinkle in the darkness when he blinks and he wraps an arm around you before pulling you into his chest, you let out an alarmed squeak involuntarily from his actions, and the heartbeat in your chest magnifies to the sound of the thunder that you're so scared of outside.

His own heartbeat is loud too, now that he has you leaning on his chest like this. The wild thumping and beating, is that from you? You feel stupid for getting excited over that possibility, but as you look up from your spot you catch his eyes, tired and still beautiful as both his arms envelope you in a deep hug.

He covers your ears with the palms of his hands, splotches of red blush and heat crawls up the skin of his neck and ears in the darkness, and he leans into the crook of your neck with a ticklish sigh.

“It's okay,” he reassures you quietly, flinching when you snuggle deeper into his chest, the scent of his home shirt being the same as the one on the blanket he brought over but much stronger.

The refreshing smell of clean linen from his laundry detergent sticks to the thin cotton material of his shirt, and you can't stop yourself from blurting out “Did you just do the laundry before coming over?” out of nowhere.

This time it's his turn to laugh nervously. “Yeah . . .” He reveals, his head resting atop yours, taking in the scent of your shampoo. It fills his senses, it's not overpowering or overwhelming at all.

Maybe because it's you.

“I didn't want to smell bad when I came over . . . Is that— is that bad?”

“. . . No,” you decide, a content smile tugging at your lips as you let your head lay on his chest. “It’s not.”

Suddenly the loud sounds of the storm that had you once afraid and cowering in fear seem to become drowned out from Tetsurou's cupped hands over your ears, but you know they're just as strong now than they were earlier— and perhaps even stronger as the night drags on. But in Tetsurou's embrace, underneath the blankets he brought from home that smell just like him, wrapped up in his arms and snuggled up against his chest; you think you'll be okay.

“Please stay with me,” you eke out without thinking, and a part of you hopes he didn't hear because you're worried you'll ruin the tranquility of whatever you have now— reminding you that this moment is only temporary.

That all will be over by tomorrow morning when the technicians come to fix the apartment's power outage at 6AM, and you'll both go back to treating each other as just kindly neighbours like before.

That you'll pretend you never snuggled together when you had no power and no heat, and you never said the words you're about to say to him now.

"Please, don't go . . .”

To your surprise, a soft kiss is pressed to the crown of your forehead as Tetsurou's wild hair tickles at your skin, the erratic beat of his heart thumping wildly in your eardrums. He looks just as nervous as you do, lips suddenly dry and throat closed up when he tries to speak.

After a disgruntled groan, the two of you laugh as once more does lightning flash across the sky, with thunder coming in it's place moments later, hand in hand as always. Just as you expected.

But this time you're not scared, not when he next whispers out the words you've longed to hear since you were a little kid during these storms, not when he cuddles you closer to his chest and brings his lips close to yours before tilting your chin up and capturing you in the sweetest of kisses, his lips perfectly molding to fit yours as he mutters in between the short breaths of air with a smile that rivals the brightness of the lighting you were so scared to gaze into from outside the windows.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures you, and you believe him wholeheartedly. “Don't worry.”

Raindrops continue to fall from outside, thunder and lightning work as a terrifying duo in sync as they torment the nature. But it all seems significantly less scary now.

Underneath the onslaught of rain, with the continuous lightning and thunder you've feared since childhood, and the annoying lack of power— you found something able to strike against even the worst of thunderstorms. Something much better to indulge your night in than your assignments that lay long forgotten beside your flashlight on the dining table far away from you and Tetsurou on the couch, warm underneath the blankets together bundled up to escape the cold air.

You found Tetsurou Kuroo.

reblogs ++ comments are greatly appreciated !! ꒰ ˆ ᗜ ˆ ˶ ꒱

© property of mikiruie 2024. all rights reserved.

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[lemmylemons]

NOT my best work, and it's certainly not really anything that goes anywhere, but silly DMC Vergil and Dante being children fic. (the rest under the cut cause I didn't want a huge piece cluttering my bloggy poo)

“No, Dante!” Vergil twists his body, making sure his back faces Dante as he holds the pot full of a red, pasty looking substance away from himself, not quite sauce yet. “I am the one making it…” He exhales shortly, a very independent worker. He doesn’t have time for his twin’s foolishness… He’ll only compromise the dish!

Dante snickers, leaning against the countertop. “Aw, c’mon, lemme help - it’s technically my kitchen, Vergil.” Vergil narrows his eyes at his brother, setting the pot back onto the stove as he grabs the sauce covered wooden spoon again. “And all you eat is the same pizza from the same parlour everyday… This kitchen is completely untouched.” Dante stares for a moment. “That’s not true. I use the fridge!” He chuckles to himself as Vergil waves a hand dismissively. 

The stove is flicked back on, struggling to light as Vergil reads through a written recipe, he seems extra focused on this. Dante raises an eyebrow, it’s spaghetti… How hard is this for Vergil to make? “So, uh, what’s with all the fancy stuff?” Dante asks, pointing at a few spices and herbs scattered across the counter, a packet of ground beef nearby as Vergil reaches for an old, beat up pan that’s seen better days. 

“I’m trying to recreate mother’s recipe.” Vergil says flatly, reaching for the beef as he sets the pan on the stove with some oil. “Obviously, we don’t have a recipe for it, so I’m trying to recreate it to the best of my ability…” Dante stares for a moment, rising from his leaning as he throws his hands up. “OH, well, lemme help-” “NO.” 

The two stare, both narrowing their eyes as Dante scoffs, chuckling again. “Aw, c’mon, I can help, I remember some of the steps, like, uh-” “No, I’m doing it, Dante. You can watch.” Vergil huffs, throwing in a chopped bit of garlic in with the beef. Dante rolls his eyes, reaching for one of the stalks of basil on the counter, Vergil quickly reacting and swatting his hand. “Stop it! I’m doing it!” Dante quickly swats back at him - huffing shortly. “I’m just tryin’ to help! I know bits of her recipe too, you don’t have to do all the work-” “Back up, Dante!” A kitten fight ensues, slapping, grunting and hair tugging as the two flail around the kitchen like toddlers fighting over some toy.

Nero passes by, stretching as he enters the kitchen, immediately stopping and staring at the two, sighing to himself. “What the Hell are you two doing…?” The twins fuss, Vergil glancing over at Nero as Dante yanks his hair, trying to put him in a hold under his arm. “Ah- Nero.” He quickly shoves Dante to the side, his younger twin bumping into the corner of the counter and wincing, before rubbing his side, waving at Nero. “Hey, kid-” “What’s, uh, going on?”

“I’m trying to recreate our mother’s recipe but someone won’t let me handle it-” “Your dad’s going crazy and refusing to let me help him make some simple spaghetti.” The two chime in together as Nero stares, eyes darting between them as he shakes his head, muttering. “Seriously…? You two really can’t handle making spaghetti together?” 

Vergil shakes his head, crossing his arms. “I don’t want to make it together, I want to do it myself - all Dante is going to do is screw it up! I want to do it!” He reiterates… Like a child. VERGIL wants to do it, HE can do it HIMSELF, all BY HIMSELF. Nero shakes his head. “Why doesn’t one of you make the sauce while the other works on noodles? Then you both have something to do-” “NO.” 

Dante smirks. “Yeah, see Vergil? Simple solution! Lemme help ya-” “NO.” Vergil’s getting heated about this… He wants to do it himself, his face going a bit red as he stews in his anger about this. He shakes his head, grabbing at the wooden spoon again, waving it at Dante. “Out!” Dante crosses his arms, humming shortly. “Someone’s not too fond of teamwork…” “OUT!”

Nero shakes his head. “You two really gotta act like this, huh? There’s just no end to it.” Vergil grumbles, turning his back to the two, stirring the pot passive aggressively, mumbling “foolish” to himself over and over as Dante slowly approaches, taking a spatula and breaking apart the meat with it. Vergil glances over and immediately goes to say something before Nero shouts back. “He’s helping you, relax.”

[silver-crowned-riders]

Oooh we're such losers for taking rejected pokemon seriously oooh!! Oooh we're such heroes that we call ourselves an evil team!! We're so corny we need to get edgier and talk shorter and dumber

So you're the star punk of Rotomblr huh? So... do you stand for anything? Do ya do anything to the establishment and break conventions as a trainer? Or are you just here for the mohawks and cursing at people? HAH!

Well if you want any advice on being a better punk, kid, you can always ask us~

- @silver-crowned-riders

love this energy. demanding essays justifying each other's ideals is what the punk subculture is ALL about. you *definitely* don't have a profound misunderstanding of the concept, keep doing what you're doing

you got me though im just a normie with a cool haircut.

[creoterative]

A lot of Paul and Reggie Quotes

Yes, I adore these two. They are on the very top of my favorite character list and I mean it. They've been there the whole time, since I started this bloggy thing, since I started to watch TV, since I got my first DS with Pokémon Diamond, it's just... yeah, I love them. So, more Paul and Reggie appreciation!

Paul: Hey, what’s the name of the guy who lives down the hall? Reggie: His cats' names are Walter and Rose. Paul: That's not what I asked. Reggie: That is all the information I have.

Paul: I’m terrible at expressing myself. Reggie: Don’t worry, actions speak louder than words! Paul: Yes, but my actions are also bad.

Reggie: You gave me up, you let me down, you turned around, and deserted me. Paul: But did I make you cry? Reggie: *cries on the spot* Paul: ...Shit.

Reggie: N... No! Paul: A fair rebuttal. However, consider this counterpoint: Y... Yes???

Reggie: Can I have a private talk with you? Paul: Okay, as long as it’s not about tampons because I just don’t understand them.

Paul: I taught the dog a new trick. *throws ball* Fetch! Dog: *just stands there* Reggie: He didn’t do it. Paul: I taught him to ignore social conventions and think for himself.

Paul: Why do humans have different blood groups? Reggie: So mosquitoes can enjoy different flavors.

Paul: Ah ready for another fantastic day of being better than Reggie.

Reggie: Paul, can you help me? All of my clothes keep disappearing for some reason. Paul, wearing a hoodie that's 5 times bigger than his size: Spooky.

Reggie: What is wrong with you? Paul: Many, many things... Paul: And most of them are your fucking fault.

Reggie: Paul, I need some advice. Paul: You need advice from ME? Reggie: Yeah, frightening, isn't it?

*Reggie and Paul are planning to break in somewhere* Reggie: We need to distract the guards. Paul: Right. Reggie: What are we gonna do? Paul: I'm gonna break their elbows while you poke their eyes. Reggie: Paul: Reggie: Deal.

Reggie: So I’m the only one around here who can clean up, huh? You can't even lift a finger? Paul: Do I get to pick the finger?

Reggie: Silence is golden. Paul: Duct tape is silver.

Reggie: How’s practice going? Paul: Terrible. I want to stab everybody there. Reggie: Okay, just don’t get any blood on your clothes. Paul: …you shouldn’t be condoning this. Reggie: Don’t tell me how to live my life.

Reggie: Fellas, I gotta know for science. Is the opposite of red green or blue? Paul: Technically a mix of green and blue? Reggie: So blurple. Paul: That's implying you're mixing blue and purple. Reggie: Would you rather have fucking bleen? MOTHERFUCKING GRUE? Paul: You were confusing before but now I'm scared.

Reggie: I have a problem. Paul: Kill it. Reggie: Can you chill for like, two seconds?

Paul: What has the galaxy ever done for you?! Why would you wanna save it?! Reggie: Cause I’m one of the idiots who lives in it!

Reggie, peeling a banana: May I take your jacket, sir? Hahahaha. Paul: Do you think other people can’t hear you?

Paul, grinning: I have a knife! Reggie: Put it down, Paul. Paul: Make me! *sprints away*

Paul: Hey, Reggie. These candies you gave me? They sucked. Reggie: But you ate them all. Paul: I had to make sure they all sucked.

Paul: I will beat all of you in Rock, Paper, Scissors. You go first. Reggie: Rock. Paul: Paper.

Paul: Reggie, I want a bedtime story! Reggie: I’m busy, Paul. I’ll tell you one tomorrow. Paul: If you don’t tell me a story, I won’t go to bed! Reggie: Once upon a time, there was a person named Paul, who always wanted things their way. One day, their friends got sick of it and locked them in the basement for the rest of their life. Everyone else lived happily ever after. The end. Paul: I don’t like these stories with morals.

Paul: Do crabs think people walk sideways? Reggie: ...Paul, what the hell.

Reggie: You know me, Paul, I don’t take any shit. You know what I say to my haters? Paul: What? Reggie: I say: “Please don’t hate me, I’m really nice.”

Reggie: What the hell is wrong with you? Paul: I have this weird self-esteem issue where I hate myself but still think I’m better than everyone else.

Reggie: When do you usually go to sleep? Paul: Whenever I collapse is entirely up to the gods.

Reggie: I don’t think we can mansplain, manipulate, or malewife our way out of it this time. Paul: *cracks knuckles* Manslaughter it is!

Reggie: Try not to roll your eyes at me. Paul: I don't have pupils.

Reggie: Please, Paul, after everything we’ve been through together. You can’t do this. Paul: I’m sorry Reggie. Reggie: I’m begging you. Don’t do it. Paul: It has to be done. Reggie: Paul: Reggie: Paul: *Places +4* Uno.

*while waiting outside the principal’s office* Paul: What are you in for? Reggie: Oh, they just want to know if it’s cool if I miss my classes tomorrow to run sound and lights for a presentation in the auditorium. What about you? Paul: I stabbed a kid with a screwdriver. Reggie: Reggie: Reggie: We live very different lives. Paul: Yes we do.

Paul: Man, I’m gonna get fat if you keep feeding me all these chips and junk! Reggie: I’M NOT! I was eating them and you took them. Paul: You said I should try some! Reggie: I said they were good. Paul: That’s not how I heard it.

Paul: Yeah, I don’t like people. Reggie: Oh, well now that’s not fair Paul. Have you met all of them? Paul: I’ve met enough of them. People. What a bunch of bastards!

Computer: Please enter a password. Paul: *types in Reggie* Computer: Your password is too weak. Paul: How fucking DARE YOU-

Paul: *Hugs Reggie from behind* Paul: *Tucks Reggie's hair behind their ear* Paul, whispering: Eat all the frosted animal crackers again and they'll never find your body.

Reggie: Might I make a suggestion you possibly won’t like? Paul: Do you make any other kind?

Paul: Why should I make my bed, when I'm just gonna unmake it to sleep in it anyways? Reggie: Why should I feed you if your just gonna die anyways? Paul: Paul: I'll go make my bed-

Reggie: Where have you been all day? Paul: Oh, just dealing with things way beyond my maturity level.

Reggie: You know what? Let’s give it a go. What’s the worst that could happen? Paul: Humiliation, embarrassment, fire, explosions, collisions, tears, nudity and death.

Reggie: I'm having problems with a guy... Paul: Like his dead body won't fit into your trunk kind of problems, or you like him kind of problems?

Paul: *pulls back the curtain while Reggie is showering* Paul: Hey did we - stop screaming it’s me - did we run out of Cheerios?

Paul: What if I lied this whole time and I'm actually 18? Reggie: Paul, stop trying to get drugs. Paul: Don't suppress my interests.

Paul, very tired: Can I sleep in your bed? Reggie: *half asleep* Paul, this is a queen-sized bed. That means it’s for *gestures vaguely to themself* the Queen.

Reggie, wiping tears from their eyes: If you love someone, set them free. If they come back, it’s meant to be… Paul: I’m literally just going to the store.

Paul: FIGHT ME, YOU NERD ASS SLUT! Reggie: At least try to sound slightly more sophisticated when you threaten someone. Paul: Oh, I'm sorry. I should ask; dost thou want to engage in a duel, my good bitch? Reggie: Somehow that's worse.

Paul: Reggie, what are you doing tomorrow? Reggie: Having my day ruined by whatever you’re about to ask me to do.

Reggie: I can’t tell if you’re a genius or just incredibly arrogant. Paul: Well, on a good day, I’m both.

Reggie: Hey Paul, do you have any hobbies? Paul: Swimming.. Reggie: Really? That’s cool. I never expected you to- Paul: In a pool of self hatred and regret.

*Reggie and Paul are texting* Reggie: Please bring home PURIFIED water with NO minerals added for taste. NONE. Paul: I got spring water. Reggie: NO! Paul: With EXTRA minerals! Paul: It’s like licking a stalagmite! Reggie: DON’T COME HOME! Paul: Mmmmmm, cave water.

Paul: If I was married to you I would put poison in your coffee. Reggie: If I was married to you I’d drink it.

Reggie: Seriously, Paul, how many people would you have killed if we’d asked you to? Paul: That’s not important Reggie: I DISAGREE.

Reggie: So we're gathered here today for a very special reason and I think you'll all agree with me here. Reggie: And if you don't well then fuck you. Reggie: I'm looking at you, Paul, you jealous mop.

Reggie: Paul, please calm down. Paul: I asked for two large fries! Paul: *dumps fries onto table* Paul: But all they did was give me a MILLION FUCKING LITTLE ONES!

Paul: You’re kind of a pushover, aren’t you, Reggie? Reggie: …I’m sorry. Paul: See!? That’s exactly what I’m talking about!

Reggie: Dammit, Paul, you ruined everything! Paul: You’re welcome.

Reggie: Remember what I told you. Paul: Don’t be a cunt.

Reggie: This is a very powerful artifact. You’d be messing with some forces we don’t fully understand. Paul: That sounds like a dare to me. Reggie: Oh my god.

Reggie: Are you this rude to everyone?! Paul: Yup. Paul: Don't think you're special.

Reggie: Guess what I'm about to get! Paul: On my nerves.

Paul: I feel like I can be myself around you. Reggie: You’re weird and quiet around me. Paul: Yes.

Reggie: GET BACK HERE YOU DUMB FUCK! Paul: LET ME RUN FROM THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!

Reggie: Is that a gun?! Paul: It's not what it looks like! Reggie: It looks like a gun! Paul: Okay, maybe it is what it looks like, but in my defense, it doesn't have anymore bullets, so I technically can't shoot it anymore. Reggie: ...ANYMORE?!

Reggie: Paul! This soup is flaccid! Paul: LITERALLY WHAT THE FUCK DOES THIS MEAN?!

Reggie: What are you eating? Paul: You wouldn't like it, it's really salty. Reggie: I like you, don't I?

Paul: Reggie? You just drove through a stop sign without stopping. Reggie: I'll stop twice on the way back.

[a-game-of-beginnings]

Oh, hello!

This here is one The Stanley Parable: Ultra Deluxe fan blog.

You may find that it exists on several mostly separate layers of reality:

[The Parable] The game itself, with all of its wacky inhabitants and quirky office adventures*! What are Stanley, the Narrator and the rest of the gang up to? In this tag, you will find all kinds of colorful depictions of what is happening inside the Parable.

*bloody murder, deceit and existential crises, but all in good fun.

[The Pre-Parable] Equally quirky and sitcom-esque, this is the office as it was, supposedly, before the Narrator deleted everyone. A happy bunch of employees who may or may not be under a subtle case of mind control. Contrary to what it sounds like, this is not set in the past - rather, it's yet another timeline playing out exclusively in the back of the Narrator's mind. Or is it?

[Post-Parable] Error: The Stanley Parable cannot end.

[Lore] Lore's corner may be a little on the visually bland side, but at least it knows what the hell is actually going on. Like, actually-actually. None of that dangerous half knowledge all the other guys keep spawning. Lore is our very local Wikipedia in here. It's 100% objective and doesn't hold grudges toward anyone whatsoever.

[Ask the Crew] All of these layers do their own thing here and there. All of them can be reached out to. Feel free to [send a question] or two. There's only one catch: While you can address anyone you like, there's always a chance that someone else will answer instead.

And remember that the Parable is a very unstable construct bound to its purpose - digging too deep might well cause a restart… or at the very least leave us with more questions than answers on either side.

Note: I might close the AskBox from time to time when I've got some catching up to do! It should be back online soon after.

[Interaction] I admit I'm personally terrible at mingling with the masses, but once in a while I may dare to extend my bloggy tentacles toward other TSP universes. I will gleefully reblog your artwork of my gang, for sure! And there's always a chance I very randomly play along or have a non-literal-probably artistic stab at your guys. No guarantees, though. I'm. I'm a blog. I'm really bad at this.

Beware! Much like the Real Deal TSPUD, this here tiny, self-contained universe might drift off toward dark themes and unexpected twists at any given moment. But for the most part, it is quite silly-goofy.

However, don't get your hopes up about the theme of LOVE - they don't speak that language in here. Well, they do, but they will run it through the Sarcasm filter first. Sorry for the inconvenience.

[nymphrasis]

I genuinely love the Pokeask blog community, truth be told! I have been following the stories of others and gazing at every art style since 2013-2014 >w<. Hell, my first ever blog was @ask-tales-of-the-wishing-st-blog ( Yes I did deleted the artworks because I wasnt a big of a fan of my old art and how I used 3D sprites on a 2D piece ^ ^" ) and first collab blog was @ask-intertwiningtime ( I do not remember the password anymore and friendo has move her focus to other things <3! It is fine leaving the blog as is >u< ) I really loved the community and, even tho I have revamped a few times because of me re-editing some parts of the stories, I just hope that doing so didnt annoy / bother anyone for me doing that <:3. I do need to get out of my shell ( I use to be a social butterfly but then, over the years, I got all shy and hide around >w<" ) and get myself into the community once more! And I mean fully, like all in! Not what I am doing, which is partially >w<! I also have one question... How do you guys come up with fantastic asks >w<? I am not someone who often ask questions, so it tends to be hard to come up with a good one that doesnt sound so boring and simple c_c. Like to ensure it is still in character! Really, with me freeing up my art queue for others, I can put my focus once more on bloggies <3.

[lilacroads]

??? - oct 29

i haven’t been feeling very bloggy lately

between getting sick and going back to work and the general state of the world, it’s been hard to feel motivated to use the internet.

uh anyway i’m mostly recovered from the flu, i still have a cough but that’s kind of manageable.

i was convinced that my bosses were mad at me for being sick and it did kind of come off that way but after seeing how things were that week, i can kind of let it slide lol. they had barely anyone available to cover, and my other full time coworker was also sick at the same time. so, it’s fine i guess.

being sick in general was very stressful anyway because 1. i’m alone and 2. i’m in a foreign country. organising doctor visits was hell, because they require everyone with cold symptoms to call ahead, but i could barely speak at the time so i had several meltdowns over that, including one out the front of the hospital lol. i managed to get seen in the end tho, and got some medicine (that didn’t work).

i turned 28 amidst all that, which was a bit lonely tbh. had to stay home :<

other than that it’s all been normal i guess.

i talked to my dad on the phone today which was lovely. i really should call more often, bc i am constantly worried about my parents health. idk why i find calling so hard.

i have to go to the hospital tomorrow for my company health check. gonna get shamed for being fat but i haven’t gained much compared to last year so i guess i don’t care.

i’ll go grocery shopping while i’m out too i suppose. i’ll have to clean my kitchen before i can do much cooking. i’ve also been struggling with cleaning since i’ve been sick. idk i feel like i’ve just been kinda depressed ever since. idk what to do.

[cicadaland]

I met a strange fellow today in one of my classes. he spoke in the register of a like noir detective with a checkered past but doodled little cartoon stars with smiles on his notebook. i was talking to him and asked where he's from and he said long island. he asked where im from and I said brooklyn and he was like hm? where is that?

[sangre]

— Edwin Arlington Robinson, "Luke Havergal"

[nonbinaryboggythefroggy]

okay i know the bad kids are adventurers and everything and killing is like Part Of The Job but every now and then i think about adaine killing a woman with her own ladel and rightfully having a panic attack and everyone else just being Okay with it. they were like 14 or 15 freshman year. i feel like more people shouldve been screaming or freaking out

[puzzle-bf]

This was originally gonna be an arc-v/aceshipping blog but look at it now.... now it's just me reblogging fanart like EVERYONE LOOK AT MY PARTNER!!! LOOK AT MY FRIENDS!!!! I'M IN THIS ONE THEY DREW ME SO WELL!! and occasionally some doodles i've done.

i need to post more of my art i think (╥﹏╥)

also i should. organize this blog a bit more. bc i think the 2 tags aren't cutting it... need More LOL

[pittsburghhockeybirds]

!!!!!!!!! Thanks for tagging me aaaaaaaaaa this blog is basically a public diary for my uncontrollable fangirling thoughtssss 🤗😘

Tag a quality blog, You’re it! Quality doesn’t means that you have a lot of followers, or a lot of messages. It means that you’re nice to other people, and you deserve to be happy. If you get this message, someone is telling you that they love you as you are, and they don’t care how many followers you have. Send this to 15 blogs who deserve it. If you break the chain, nothing will happen. But it’s just good to let someone know that you love them. :)

thank you thank you thank you thank you <3

@pride-potato @geeky-gay-greek @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @fayeisuppose @directlyat-thesun @when-wax-wings-melt @darling-im-the-queen-of-hell @the-end-is-heree @thehometownskeptics @the-pastel-ghost-femboy @nemideia @viere @escapingthereality @i-will-sing-no-requiem @ultravioletmorning–light @fluffylionthoughts @autistic–crows @foundationsretail and everyone else i didn’t tag it’s very early in the morning

[uncovered-rpg]

hey bloggy blog, I wanted to inform you about Callahan's little crush on Sapnap, how pathetic! the theatre kid with an emo? crazy pairing!

Oh ? Where’s this coming from ? Does Callie really have a crush on SappyNappy ? If so , you’re right — it’s one hell of a pairing . But something tells me . . .

Ah . Too soon .

Would love to see how you found out about this , though . Care to share ?