#queue call to the void

[hcmetown]

yep. thats right. tag dump part 2!!!!

[fragmented-deity-moved]

true to his word, lance provided a place of respect for innerste in the kingdom. it was not something lancelot was entirely proud of--he had wished he could provide something grander, something that spoke to the kindness and mercy of the deity, but he could not. not when camelot tries to appeal to all gods equally.

he sits down on his knees in a prayer in front of the altar once he had finally completed his duty. perhaps, after this, he would make his own personal space in his quarters for innerste, one where he could actually place more than the allotted offerings given. but for now, he stops to take a breath, and he can't help the soft clicking of purrs.

"i apologize that i cannot do anything more for you in the square," he murmurs, eyes still closed. "i assure you, once i am done for the day, i will gift you something better. give you all that you deserve."

It's... cute, sometimes. How the other does this, and then proceeds, in some fashion, to think it needs more. He is more than satisfied with the modest offering place within the kingdom he's given, but the idea of an altar within Lancelot's own quarters that is more personal to the knight is not something he will deny the other. Hearing the prayer with a flick of an ear, he preens, just a little.

"Nothing to apologize for, treasure. Everything you do is well appreciated and welcomed. But I will not deny you the ability to gift more, if that is truly what you wish to do." Innerste speaks through the other's mind, choosing after a little bit to appear properly after a moment once assured there won't be passersby staring at the two.

"I have never even had my own altar without Iblis being beside it, before. So having even something so modest so that no God stands out above another... it is something I am grateful for and delights me... immensely." The next words are whispered softly into the knight's ear as he kneels next to him.

[skyllion-uwu]

Never read the comments of a post talking about sexual puritanism. And people in those comment sections stop fucking using sex repulsed aces as a shield for why it's okay to say sex is inherently gross

[kacievvbbbb]

Question for the community;

I've been thinking of actually actively posting on twitter instead of just stalking you guys. But honestly twitter is a hell site and actively scares me. so I'm looking for some thoughts?

[astralplume]

*flops* well, so that ends

I don’t really think it’s an exaggeration to call this year the worst of my life so far. Between: starting it off in the first two weeks with a bad enough panic attack to force me off my medication for the rest of the year, two group projects riddled with unnecessary trouble and my lowest mark so far for making the mistake of taking a module outside of my school (in a year where that sort of thing counts), an uselessly intense field course in the blazing heat of summer, which led into internship work I was very much thrown in the deep end for, a semester even worse than the one the year before that was claimed to have been hardest, the worst-timed week of food poisoning right as the exam season started, and the looming dread of all that still needs doing.. yes, it’s perhaps no wonder I’m so worn out as I write this.

On the outside, it looked like a good year for me as a person. It's just me myself who knows the truth of how broken I've ended up to get there.

No whole year can be completely without goodness, though (I hope). Offline, I got the highest marks in both of my required courses from last year, and online, Origins restarted and we started the incredible unsynced adventures as the Dandelions. And I finally figured out how to exist on tumblr in a way I enjoy (by having two primary blogs)! But.. you'll notice only one of those is something that actually matters offline. Which is sad. I wish I could get excited about things that matter for my future as a person (instead of my immediate wellbeing). And next year has so many exciting things! I'm going to graduate! I'm going to become an aunt! I'm going to be a bridesmaid! I'm hopefully going to have some answers about why my body is causing me problems! I just.. really hope I can get there!

I am very very grateful for the friends I have been able to maintain. The fact people still want to be around me as I want to be around them is something I truly treasure. So, thank you all for tolerating this selfish thing.

May next year be better for us all.

[unhxngxd]

// I'm in a writing mood! Consider this a

Starter Call !!! //

[fragmented-deity-moved]

*gifts mephilis a cosmog*

He looks down at the Cosmog, his awareness of pokemon is... interesting, to say the least, two hands holding onto it with a low hum.

"Thank you?" He thinks that's the appropriate response to receiving a pokemon as a gift...

He holds it carefully, just in case.

At least he has something other than himself in his blank space or prison. Something he... can't be angry at.

[fanaroff]

Dp x DC Prompt: Space Like An Ocean

An alien had taken up residence outside of the Watchtower. Its first appearance immediately started a panic with most of the heroes that could survive in space converging on the station to see whether it was friend or foe. In the end, it did not seem either.

In fact, it seemed fine with just basking and napping wrapped around parts of the Watchtower that made up the outside. It wasn’t the size of the Watchtower, but off and on it was a very near thing.

Humanoid, yet distinctly inhuman. White whispy hair sat atop its head, pointed ears, and the only feature that could be made out of its face were two bright green glowing eyes. A color that sent Batman into a research frenzy. Its skin was void-dark. Almost looking as if a piece of space itself had separated from the cosmos and took and almost snake-like form. Or maybe an eel?

The most notable thing about the creature were its injuries. Multiple lacerations covered it, leaking a green that never touched the Watchtower and seemed to evaporate not long after leaving its body. Any silent attempts to collect it for study and to figure out what it was were met with emotionless green eyes and a bare hint of fang. They backed off quickly.

Flash liked to call it a mer-eel. “Cause it’s got an almost human torso, two arms, and the rest just kind of curls up!”

Wonder Woman was unimpressed with this. “That would suggest it is more like a naga.”

To which Green Lantern replied, “No, no, he’s right. There’s an almost white fin-like bit that goes down the tail like an eel’s does.”

Any more attempts to identify the creature led to nothing and soon the “eel” became a silent fixture of the Watchtower.

It was ages later when Zatanna entered the Watchtower to discuss a completely non-connected case when she stumbled immediately upon leaving the Zeta Tube and had to lean against a wall, breathing heavily.

“Something feels like Death.” Was all she could get out before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she dropped to the ground. She wouldn’t wake up, dead asleep. Immediate worry all around lead to Justice League Dark being contacted in full.

Constantine with Deadman in tow were ultimately the ones to solve the mystery. It took but a moment for Deadman to be seen thanks to Constantine’s “magic” and awe was the first thing apparent on his face. Deadman didn’t even need to leave the Watchtower to know what it was.

“Oh,” he whispered like a prayer. “So that’s where he goes when he takes a break.”

Queue questioning.

“He” turned out to be Phantom, the Ghost King who had apparently decided the Watchtower was a perfect basking spot. Confusion was abound at this.

“No, see,” Deadman tried to explain. “He has two Obsessions and the Watchtower feeds into both. Heroes who protect, as he is a protector spirit himself and probably feels a kinship, and space.”

Constantine and Deadman explained as best as they could, but when the questions finally settled, the last was “Why isn’t Constantine affected like Zatanna? Why aren’t the rest of them affected like Zatanna?”

“That’s easy!” Deadman piped. “None of you are attuned to death magic! I’m a ghost, he’s my King. Zatanna is a magician with experience in most magics. And Constantine doesn’t own enough of his soul to feel the death!”

In the end, a request from Deadman was all it took for things to change. With barely a rumble, Phantom pulled himself from the Watchtower and drifted far enough away for his aura to no longer affect Zatanna. The heroes could only watch in awe as the eel-like god returned to the open ocean of space.

Addition:

There were a giant green eyes observing the conference room. Every hero inside was frozen in place, staring back at the eyes and trying their best not to move a muscle. Phantom had moved from atop the station. Phantom had acknowledged them. Phantom was staring at them from a window of the Watchtower.

No one knew why he was there. Just that suddenly he was. The bright green lighting the entire room with its shine was the only warning they got. They stared. He stared.

Slowly, he moved. A hand-shape pointed with a claw. They were confused. The hand made a pointing motion again.

The table?

Ah. Several shards of kryptonite sat on the table. The topic of the discussion as someone had somehow gotten ahold of the shards and used them against Superman. They needed to know who supplied them.

The hand pointed again.

Why did Phantom want the shards?

Apparently, it wasn’t up to them to question as the pointing hand phased into the room, palm up. Waiting. No one moved for a moment until a white narrowed slit formed in Phantom’s eyes.

Green Lantern was quick to grab the shards (Batman made a token protest, those were his damn it) and placed them in the palm. He shivered as his finger brushed the skin, ice cold washing up and down his spine.

The hand closed, retracted and approached the face. The eyes stared as a large mouth opened (fangs, sharp sharp fangs laid in green) and a tongue popped out. The shards were placed on the tongue and the mouth closed with a sharp crunch.

Phantom grinned almost smugly before he drifted away from the window and back to the top of the Watchtower.

“Did- Did Phantom just ask for a snack?”

[houseofaegon]

HOUSEOFAEGON’S SCHEDULE ╱ SERIES/WIPS & FICS 💋🖋️📜

🌾🌅🤠 MONDAY — DUST & DESIRE SERIES

★ thunderbolts AU (cowboy!bob reynolds x fem!reader)

✷ ─── summary: after eight years away, you return to your hometown for the summer—older, richer, and sharper than the girl who once ran barefoot through dusty fields with bob reynolds at your side. you left for nyu law and built a polished, high-powered life in new york city. bob stayed behind, taking over his family’s ranch and turning into something harder, quieter—hotter. invited by his mother to stay at the reynolds ranch, you walk back into a world that feels both foreign and familiar, dragging designer suitcases and memories behind you. but nothing is simple now. not with the tension that crackles every time bob looks at you like he’s still trying to hate you and can’t. not with the heat that builds when old wounds surface and words go unsaid. not when every glance, every touch, lingers on the edge of something you never really let go of. you’re not sure what’s harder to face—the past you walked away from, or the man who never chased after you… but might now.

💌💭📝 TUESDAY — REQUESTS/ASKS

★ my requests are always open!!! feel free to send your smuttiest, most unhinged, craziest fic requests<3 older ones are prioritized but if your ask hits just right?? bestie it’s going in the queue <3

🌙🕯️🔮 WEDNESDAY — ENCHANTRESS

★ post thunderbolts (bob reynolds x avenger!oc / void x enchantress)

✷ ─── summary: arabella montenegro was born under a blood moon, marked by old gods, bound to ancient magic, cursed and chosen all at once. a witch. a weapon. an avenger once, before the world became too loud, and her own shadows grew teeth sharper than anyone could control. they called her the enchantress, not realizing that name belonged to something else—the other half of her. the darkness that lives beneath her skin. not evil. not good. just ancient, and waiting to be let out. now, arabella walks barefoot through the watchtower—salt at her doorways, obsidian rings on her fingers, shadows whispering her name like a sacred incantation. her tarot cards never lie. her shadows never sleep. after the near-destruction of new york by the void, she's called back to a world she tried to leave behind, she’s called back to the fight—to the thunderbolts, to bucky, to the ghosts of who she used to be. and to bob reynolds. the golden god with too much power, and too many fractures.he is power incarnate. and arabella is the only thing he cannot destroy. but the void sees her too. wants her. recognizes the entity buried inside her—the one who looks back when she stares too long into the dark. because inside bob, something dark stirs. and inside her, something just as dark answers. arabella montenegro doesn't believe in salvation. not for herself, not for anyone else. but somewhere between salt circles and moonlit rituals, between banter, bitten lips, and stolen touches—the witch and the void begin to burn. and when they finally touch, the world will never be the same.

🍸🏝️💍 THURSDAY — WICKED GAME

★ the white lotus AU (sebastian stan x engaged heiress!oc)

✷ ─── summary: genevieve amelia rothschild is a problem. born into old money and scandals, raised in million-dollar penthouses and pressed into silk dresses, forced into etiquette and expectations. but beneath the polished surface, she's always been something else entirely—a wildfire wrapped in couture and gold, a scandal waiting to happen. she's spent her years living fast, breaking rules, and racking up headlines. party girl. wild child. black sheep. always too much—and always exactly what the press loves to hate. now she's twenty-five and engaged to a man she doesn't love. the wedding is a carefully arranged spectacle—beautiful, calculated, entirely hollow, and nothing but a fucking lie. the guest list read like a who's who of high society, of the elites. the dress? dior. the venue? a billion-dollar mansion in los angeles. the whole world watching. all ginny has to do is smile and behave. but behaving has never been her specialty. after one too many public disasters, her mother sends her away to sicily. alone. "to rest," she says. "to stay out of trouble." ginny is exiled to sicily, to the white lotus—a luxury resort carved into the cliffs above the sea, where everything smells like citrus, stillness, aperol spritz, and the staff are trained to forget your name. It's beautiful, remote, elite, and fucking suffocating. she drinks too much, sunbathes too long, and drapes herself in expensive silk and bathing suits. she's bored. restless. one sharp breath away from doing something reckless. then she sees him. sebastian fucking stan. he's older than she remembers. quieter. distant in a way that makes it impossible to stop looking. he came to the white lotus to disappear. he's here under a fake name, hiding after a very public divorce and a slow-motion fall from grace. and ginny? she's the last kind of person he should want. too loud. too rich. too well-known. but she looks at him like she already knows all his secrets. and he watches her like she's the first real thing he's seen in months. she's spoken for. he's sworn off. but something about the sicilian heat makes you forget the rules.

🕸️🗡️💋 FRIDAY — WIDOW’S WEB

★ marvel au dark romance (bucky barnes x widow!oc)

✷ ─── she was supposed to be dead. s.h.i.e.l.d. agents don’t survive an entire building collapsing on their heads—let alone walk away untouched, vanish off the grid, and reappear years later as an agent gone rogue, as a high-level international threat with an extensive body count, several bounties on her head, and a growing list of governments too afraid to speak her name out loud. but isadora vale did. she was one of theirs once. recruited and rescued by s.h.i.e.l.d. after the red room fell. a weapon reprogrammed into a multi-billion dollar asset. they gave her missions, orders, trust—until she learned the truth. until they betrayed her—and left her for dead. and now she’s back, leaving bodies behind like breadcrumbs. each corpse marked with a crimson lipstick stain. a signature. a warning. an invitation. she’s a ghost. a myth. a weapon built by the red room—refined by s.h.i.e.l.d. —now turned loose against the world that made her. against the governments that used her. against the people who claimed to protect her. against the man who was supposed to be watching her six. s.h.i.e.l.d. wants her gone. the avengers want her caught. and bucky barnes? he can't stop looking for her. can't stop thinking about her. can’t decide if he wants to capture her and bring her in, or press her up against a wall and beg her to ruin him. he was assigned to stop her. he tells himself that’s still the plan. instead, he lets her slip through his fingers again and again. but every time she slips through his fingers—smiling, taunting, calling him sweetheart through stolen comms—he doesn’t pull the trigger. because somewhere between the blood, the fights that end with heavy breathing and lips too close, the chase, between her whispers in his comms, between the way she smiles before she disappears, he stopped wanting to catch her. he doesn't understand what's happening to him. but there’s one thing bucky barnes is sure of: he’s already wrapped around her fingers—caught in her widow’s web. and the worst part? he doesn’t care, and he doesn't want to get out.

⌨️✍🏼✏️ SATURDAY — MUSE DAY

★ brain dump zone!! just some free writing, whatever comes to my mind, blurbs, one-shots, headcanons, character rants, yapping sessions, and whatever is living in my brain rent-free.

BRI'S NOTE: once each series is done, this schedule will be updated to fit the current WIP!! this blog is 90% unhinged smutty fics and 10% me screaming in the tags and yapping non-stop like a caffeinated raccoon. i try to post 4-5x a week, answer requests/asks whenever i can, and go feral over fictional characters and celebrities like a cat in heat. 'cause im just a girl.

i will try my best to stick to this weekly schedule but i am also a mood writer so expect surprise fic drops mid week or double fic updates when i spiral.

want to interact more? ❀ let's be moots!! send me your fic requests, tell me your favorite tropes, send me your favorite songs, your favorite books, tag me in your favorite smutty fics, let's be feral together!!!!! reblog my fics with comments or reviews—it truly fuels me to write more, and it makes my day so much better. i read every tag, reply, and comment. i try to respond when i can, but just know: you make me smile sooo much, it really makes me so happy. thank you for leaving a little bit of love behind for me!! <3

REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN!!! got something unhinged on your mind?? my inbox is your confession booth. i'm right here screaming with you!!! send me your smuttiest chaotic fic requests, what if scenarios, lyrics, blurbs, rants, screams, love, whatever you please!! try to be as descriptive as you can, the more you give me the more my imagination runs wild!! give me backstory, heartbreak, songs, anything!! i love writing while listening to music, so requests with music are very much appreciated! make sure to read the rules and guidelines before requesting <3

` ִ ☆゙ rules & guidelines masterlist side blog ֶָ ࣪ ׅ ♱

[hoony2k]

Is jake here?

Shakespeare says "tis was written in the stars before they even met"

-You're lost in life and move to Seoul where you find your peace in a boy. Jake's in a band and is looking for a girl he's been obsessed with ever since she appeared in his dream. You're both broken but maybe you can learn to be better through each other.

Pairing: Sim Jaeyun x reader

Genre: scott pilgrim au!, band au!, set in 2000s, he's kinda silly.

Cast: Sunghoon, jay, sumin (stayc)

Warning: reader smokes once :(

Word Count: 2k

Notes: this is for neo127's event! this was genuinely so fun to write, thank you for the fun event! this is actually a deleted scene that I love sm, i wanted to be so poetic but i had to stop my demons cause this is a movie with tom foolery and deep meaning. also i'm kind of stupid and saved this in drafts and not queue.

masterlist

Take 1

There was a ringing in Jake’s mind that alerted him of the dangers awaiting him, but the allure of your presence removed all prior warnings. You came into his life like a dream, filled the hollow void in his soul. None of his past attempts at experiencing euphoria or reaching infinity worked, but with you around entertaining his unfunny jokes, he was consumed by the black hole in one clean swoop.

In other terms, you were the little riff he needed in the song, the extra healing ability granted to his game characters, you were a dream. The warning, the future and the rest was history. It was only you and him in the whole universe. By your side, Jake finally felt like the world wasn’t against him.

Or so he thought.

Seven little exes, not seven little kisses.

Take 2

Jake forced his body to move. “Left right, left right”, he mumbled and mechanically trudged up the stairs, bumping into drunk partygoers without an apology. He caught a glimpse of you the other day and he prayed the next time you saw him he’d be taller and looked way cooler, not desperate or down bad at all. Hopefully, he’d find the courage to approach you in privacy. It had been ages of simply dreaming about you.

Not even the buzz of the party could get your eyes and nonchalant expression out of Jake’s mind. The thirst to reunite left him dry to the bone and in dire need of the washroom due to pure boredom sparked by the party. His drink sploshed in the red up, spilt over the rim and onto the cuff of his new jacket. He winced at the sticky and cold sensation.

At this point, he was willing to manifest you into appearing.

Jake reached the landing and felt Comeau call out to him. “Wanna drink with us?”

He shook his head and slightly pouted. “No, I don’t drink”.

Comeau frowned at him, “What do you mean you don’t drink?”

Jake offered a non-committed shrug and lightly waved his arm around.

“This is just iced coffee”.

His friend’s frown deepened. “What does that mean? I distinctively remember you being drunk-”

“Hey you know everyone, right?”, Jake swiftly brushed off the memory and swayed Comeau by the compliment. “You know this one girl with hair like this?”

His pout was replaced with a determined look and pulled out crumpled paper with a poorly sketched one-lined drawing of what appeared to be a face with no evident features or expressions. There was no possible way to understand the scribble immediately.

His friend rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I know her. That’s Y/N-“

God was real. The universe loved him and perhaps this was good karma for all the okay things he had done in life. His friend continued to ramble trivia about you but it all flew over Jake’s head until he heard I heard she was going to be here tonight and it brought heat back into his veins. All it took were those mere words to become the catalyst of his insanity.

Jake dove into the crowd, and took in the sight of numerous strangers with unfamiliar hairstyles and smiles. He searched for your dyed hair in the crowd and despite unsteady breathing and shaking hands due to anticipation and nervousness, his gaze met your frame leaning on a wall. Hair pink instead of blue and you were alone holding a cup which served as a friend. You appeared bored out of your mind, glancing at the drunk bodies dancing around in bliss. Jake wondered asking you if you wanted a refill.

He slid on the dirty wallpapered wall and inch close to you. As he felt heat radiate off your body, he took it as a sign to halt. Though he tried to be subtle, his desperation to talk to you poured down his body in a giant tidal wave. Jake turned his honey eyes to your figure, it was party concealed under his locks that covered an eye. You stared right at him.

“Do you like pac man?”, the words stumbled out of his lips before he realised.

What? No-no, that’s not-

You gave him a slight nod then shifted your attention back to the crowd. Uncommitted but it did not discourage him.

He shuffled closer to you; the creases of his oversized jacket bumped into the bag strap on your shoulder. You didn't move away.

Jake cheered internally; this was going well.

Jake took it as a sign to continue. He puffed his chest out. “You know the original name for Pac-Man was Puck-Man. Not because he looks like a hockey puck. But it's Paku Paku. Means flap your mouth."

He planned on offering you a detailed history of the game, a topic that the pair of you apparently shared and enjoyed. That was before you placed your full untouched cup on a table and turned to him.

He hadn't realised you moved to look up at him.

"But they thought people would scratch out the "p" and turn it into an "f" like-"

Jake's voice died in his throat and his eyes blinked at the intensity of your gaze. You stared up at him with calm wisdom, hiding all the secrets in the world in your gaze.

He observed how there was a thin sheen of sweat on your hairline despite the cold season of decay. With so many bodies running, dancing and chatting away, the house was bound to get humid.

Jake could barely hear your voice over the thump thump of his heartbeat. The tips of your hair that clung onto the apples of your cheek moved when you spoke.

You took a step closer to him and whatever confidence he had evaporated. Jake fumbled with the end of his jacket and then promptly shoved his hands inside his pockets.

You did not look displeased at the sight, in fact, nothing changed in your eyes but Jake swore he saw a hint of a small smile. However, his fear and nerves got the best of him.

"I'm going to leave you alone forever now-"

"Wanna get out of here?"

Take 3

The sky was dark again. The winter nights crept up quickly, shunning the sun away but Jake liked it.

He liked how the night sky reminded him of you, the simple serene moments spent either in silence or secrecy.

You brought light into his life. It was dark elsewhere.

He saw a shadow of a figure dressed in several jackets a couple of feet away and only when he walked closer did he realise who it was.

"What are you doing here?", he called out to you, referring to the time.

You quirked up an unamused brow.

"Dude, I was waiting for you."

Immediately Jake felt apologetic. And maybe a bit pathetic that he came late (on time) to the hangout (unofficial official date). Or maybe he felt giddy knowing you didn't show your nervous attitude yet cared deeply enough for him to arrive on time.

"I'm sorry. I thought you assumed you were too cool to arrive on time", he confessed. It was easier with you.

He didn't have to lie about where he went like how he did whenever Sunghoon asked him about his whereabouts or skirt around in conversations where Sumin decided to target him (all for reasons that proved he deserved it).

He didn't need to pretend he was someone better, a moralistic ideal version of himself or someone worse, an edgy rockstar who had a strange code of rules to live by.

With you, Jake could be transparent. All his unpolished edges, raw mistakes and life missteps were seen and never judged.

You were like him and he was like you.

Maybe there was a reason he saw you in his dreams long before. Maybe the two of you were interconnected in a cosmic way. He didn't know.

You looked at him up and down before turning and beginning to walk near the middle of the park.

"Well, you were wrong".

Jake quickly walked beside you and fell into the same rhythm. "Do you wanna get a bite? Or watch a movie? We could get pizza before watching something. We could flip through the records I have at home".

You gently shook your head and Jake couldn't help but pout at your dismissal.

"What's wrong?" He asked, too impatient.

You sighed softly; air comes out in puffs of smoke.

You point at nearby empty swings. The chain was rustic and seems strong enough to carry two adults.

"Follow me", you whispered in the late night. There was no one around. The park was deserted, filled with snow to the brim. The swing seats squeaked when you brushed off the sleeping snow from them.

Jake sniffled, shoved his hands in his pockets once more. He didn't mind the silence until it stretched on for more than a minute, maybe...maybe it was less but Jake hated silence.

"This is nice", he shuffled and lightly kicked his feet off the ground. The metal shrieked and he swayed back and forth.

You nodded and mimicked his actions.

"This is nice".

Jake turned to look at you once more. He noticed how often he'd stare at you only to look away when you caught his gaze. There was something that had been on his mind for days. He tip toed towards the topic.

"So, why'd you come to Seoul?"

Immediately you look down at your shoes, then swing yourself higher than before.

"I wanted a change of scenery. Needed a reset and got a job here so I thought, why not?"

It was an honest reply.

The sound of gravel grabbed his attention, the metal squeaked again and you paused the pendulum to fish out an item from your pocket.

He had to squint in the minimal lighting and Jake had to hold in his surprise as you pulled out a cigarette and lit it easily.

A hand covered your lips and the tip of the cigarette, the small flame decorated the end of your nose and chin in a scarlet hue. Jake stared at you in awe, doe eyes widened.

"You smoke?", he couldn't help it. You did wonders at surprising him each time you met.

You inhaled it slowly and turned from Jake's direction to blow the air. Two fingers toyed with the cigarette.

"On special occasions". Your lips stretched a bit and Jake saw how the gloss shone under the moonlight. God, he was doomed from the start.

He didn't mind the bounce in his voice, he tiled his position and brought his swing next to yours until the metal chains halted him. The scent of slight smoke and your citrus perfume filled his senses.

It felt like he was on stage once more, guitar in his hands, flicking away at the strings with inhuman speed. He felt the high he experienced on stage; the surge of emotions that made him giddy. He tapped his foot unconsciously, imitating the vibrations the band would feel when Sumin hit her drums.

"Is this a special occasion?"

Your eyes hadn't stranded him and his lovesick expression finally pulled a laugh out of you. You were satisfied when you moved to Seoul, but the buds in your stomach began to blossom, Jake made you crave for more than satisfactory.

"I don't know. You tell me", you teased him and Jake's smile got wider. His eyes crinkled adorably and you could see the gums of his teeth with how wide he was smiling.

Then, for a split second, something flashed in his eyes, something serious. It paused your arm mid-way from bringing the cigarette to your lips.

Jake averted his gaze, his dark brown bangs covered his face from view, and you could only see the tip of his tall nose and his red ears. Perhaps from the cold, perhaps from you.

He took a deep breath.

"When I'm around you, I kind of feel like I'm on drugs. Not that I do drugs. Unless you do drugs, in which case I do them all the time."

When he finished, Jake turned to you and the poor swing squeaked once more. His face was determined, shoulders no longer hunched like usual but his eyes wavered, swam across your form to see a hint of disgust or discomfort from you.

You laughed in his face.

"Hey!", Jake shouted and it echoed in the night.

Loud laughter bubbled from your lips, you tried to hide your mouth behind your free hand but Jake quickly grabbed it so he could defend himself. Seeing how delighted you were, your entire body buzzing with giggles, Jake felt himself relax and giggle with you. Though he didn't let go of your arm.

He saw the fallen cigarette on the ground, you probably forgot about it when you began to chuckle. He leaned forward and stepped on it.

When he landed his attention on you, you were more composed but the shaking did not stop. It was a futile attempt at covering your glee, Jake was obsessed, he was probably feeling the L-word (love) as well but he wasn't sure.

Though he understood from all the times he couldn't concentrate in practice and Sunghoon or Jay would have to call his name loudly to pull him out of daydreams of you and back to reality, when Sumin stopped questioning his intentions with you and replaced her usual indifferent glares with mild fascination, Jake knew he felt something more than like for you. He felt like he was hypnotised by your melody, your casual demeanour, overflowing confidence and assured attitude. It sucked him in from the night he dreamt of you.

Jake's hand slithered down from the curve of your elbow and slipped into the warmth of your hand. Your laughter had finally ceased, now replaced with a tender look. Jake smiled like he had never done before. You interlocked your fingers together and squeezed him palm.

It would be okay, the future would be more than okay-probably. He'd still have to go to practice, get yelled at by his sister and then get yelled at other bands when Sunghoon irked them on purpose. Maybe he'd have to eventually confront your seven exes. Nothing about you was simple, everything was too intricate, it was like he had entered a game and had to win all rounds before getting crowned "official boyfriend".

But it was more than okay because Jake knew you were worth it-you liked him and he liked you. There were no mind games, this was the simplest love he had experienced. He couldn’t stop thinking of you and you couldn’t stop ringing his landline. By your side, Jake concluded that even if he wasn’t the strongest, he’d figure out a way and fight the world for you.

Thank you for reading. Please do not edit/translate

[wolven91]

Drought vs Flood

Cat calls.

Being called 'cute' or showered with compliments.

Paul had never really considered these an annoyance before. Hell, if he though back to his time on Earth, he couldn't remember the last time when he'd ever received a compliment from a stranger before.

No, that was a lie he realised.

Many years before, an older lady once stopped him to compliment him on a jovial Christmas jumper he'd worn. She said she liked it and that he was handsome in it too. He vividly remembered having a great day that day, despite having to deal with a queue of irate customers throughout the afternoon.

That compliment had kept the man sated for years!

As a man, Paul had never really understood the frustrations of women when they bemoaned the fact that they received compliments and manners from random strangers every day. The man would always hasten to add that he understood them from a logical point of view, but there was always a part of him that had wanted a taste of that life for a while.

Sure, maybe getting them every day might have gotten old, but after over a decade of surviving off one compliment? The man didn't *understand* the frustration. The isolation had to be worse right?

That was until the Earth was destroyed and Paul ended up like a few of his fellow humans, lost amongst the stars as a human, alone in the void.

At first, Paul thrived. He'd lived alone for seven years and with his friends moving away, getting families, or just losing touch; there had been times in his life where he'd gone whole weeks without saying a single word out loud.

After that initial period of learning the ropes, figuring out where he could get a job, food, even the stuff that wasn't quite 'legal' like a drink, Paul settled into what he expected would be a quiet life.

Only, every time he spent time out in public, like when he went to sit in the tiny bar that would serve him under the counter, it wasn't that quiet.

"I just love your fur; can I touch it?" Asked the bull-like alien as they had already begun reaching out and touching thick leather pads to the crop of hair atop Paul's head. The man shoved the alien's wrist away from him.

"No, thank you." He grunted, still hunched at the bar, uncomfortable about the two aliens that stood either side of him. Both were, alien, they had the heads of bulls but bodies that he would have given his left arm for back home. But regardless of their physical attraction, this was week three of not being able to have a single moment's peace outside of his own quarters.

"Oh come on, I read you love it when someone pets you?" Smarmed the second, quoting some bullshit, pardon the pun, text that Paul himself had read. Apparently, a few of the survivors had let slip that they were touch starved, so now every alien and their mother was quoting this as if gospel.

If Paul ever got his hands on the moron that uttered those...

"Not all humans are the same." He growled back, gripping his drink.

"Well, what if I showed you a gun? You like guns, right?" Offered the first taurian, briefly turning their hip and displaying a holster.

"I repeat, not all humans are the same." Paul was British, he thought guns were a tool and nothing more. No more exciting than a pen or a pair of expensive scissors. More than a handful of Americans made it out and had made a huge scene when they found out guns were illegal to humans. Yet more misinformation chumming the water.

"Aww come on, we're just being friendly. It's okay! I also read that your society said you had to be prudes; it's not true, you can relax." The alien explained as if she wasn't taking a big dump on the entire human civilisation and its history.

Paul sneered at the fact that he mildly agreed. The odd concepts that were considered fact back home were outright frowned on up here. With all the fur and lack of breasts on those without; clothes were almost optional by those not actively working. Granted Paul wasn't a nudist and didn't have the body to want to flaunt it, but it was a breath of fresh air to not be so gummed down with social rules.

"I was relaxed," Paul sniped, but the jab went well over the two female taurian's horns. "I just want a quiet drink." He reiterated, breathing deep and remaining calm. The sluggat barkeep watched him carefully, his eye stalks watching the taurians and the human independently. He was hanging around by the bar's emergency distress button.

"We can drink with you." Offered one of them, Paul didn't even bother looking now, instead attempting to drill a hole in the opposite wall with his eyes.

"I don't want company." He explained clearly.

"Why not?" They prodded.

"Because I said so."

"That ain't a real answer, just let us-"

"Can you actually fuck off?!" Paul snapped, turning his body to the last one to speak. "I don't want company, I don't want a drink from you, I want to be left alone!"

"Alright, fuck us, right? We were being nice and now you're acting like we're attacking you. We're the nice ones, but I guess you'll only learn that when you meet the other kind."

Paul just rolled his eyes as the pair stepped away from the bar and, as one walked past, clipped the leg of the stool Paul was sat on, jangling his already on edge nerves.

They grunted something as they passed that the translators flagged as an insult.

Paul rubbed a hand over his face as he sighed and tried to relax. The sluggat slithered over and asked if he was all right.

"Yeah, I'm... I'm fine." The man replied absently, using a thumb to wick the moisture off the side of his glass.

A drought, versus a flood.

That was how Paul now considered the perspective from before. How he would explain the difference of perspectives to a younger self.

How could the drowning woman understand the dying man in the desert?

It was great to be the centre of attention for a week or two, but the way they got handsy? If he didn't actively stop them, and make it clear he wasn't 'playing hard to get' that they'd start groping him?  The way they didn't give him space or even listen when he said 'no'?

Even when they were weird... and smelt bad... Not all the creatures up here were attractive.

"Fuck." The man drew the word out with a breath he only realised was shaking as his voice shuddered. With a guilty grimace, the man reached into his pocket and retrieved the data slate. He scrolled through the minimal contacts and selected his guardian.

It rang once before being answered by a near frantic voice that was obviously being kept neutral.

"Paul?"

"Hey Shu'ba. I fucked up... Can you... Can you come get me please?" The man asked humbly.

"Is everything alright?!"

"It's fine, nothing's happened, but I'd feel safer if you were near."

"I got your location, I'm two minutes away."

"Thanks, Shu'ba."

"Don't think anything of it."

"I'm sorry."

The voice of the ssypno sighed through the speaker.

"I get it's hard to have a babysitter, but we're here for a reason. It's okay, I'm almost there."

Paul stayed on the line, even though he and the sluggat were the only patrons of the bar, but when the neon green scales of his guardian slithered into the room, a wave of relief washed over him.

Perhaps it was time to stop giving the serpent the slip?

[r/WolvensStories]

[Ko-Fi]

[queenofshenanigans]

WIP Week(end) 6/06

I'm still working through some asks from the past couple weeks, but we're getting there! Making good progress on some things as well! And trying really hard not to add MORE things to the queue until at least a couple are in posting form. So! Make me write!

I was tagged by @queenie-ofthe-void, @sourw0lfs, @turinspeachjam, @felixir-of-moths and @tinytalkingtina this week. <3

⚾ Second Chance at First Love (and Third Base) - Steddie Big Bang! No longer a secret!!

🛼 - Sapphic Mini Bang (90s Bubblescoops, Stommy) I'll share 👩‍👩‍👦 or 🤸‍♂️- if you have a preference, drop an emoji

👩‍👩‍👦 - the Stranger Moms fic - S5 AU ft. the Stranger Moms

🐉 - Steve finds a dragon in his closet - Dustigan, developing Steddie

🏰 - Shenanigans in Steve's attic - Steve has good parents actually, Steddie, Scoops Troop

⚔️ - A Knight's Tale (with magic) - Ronance, Steddie, lots of Wheeler siblings, platonic Stobin, platonic Edancy

🤸‍♂️- The Yeet Aerobics Fic - S3 AU Stedissy, platonic Stobin, matchmaker Wayne, Buckingway

Snippet from A Knight's Tale (continued from here) and tags under the cut

These were the thoughts running through Lady Robin of House Buckley's mind, as she stared out her bedroom window at the forest. It was well past midnight but not yet dawn, and she was—as had been typical for her in childhood—Watching. When she was younger, she'd spent these Watching hours staring out her window at the Blooming Forest, just visible in the moonlight at the edge of the family estate. If she squinted, and stayed still enough, she could see the faintest shimmers of the forest magic, the flutters of wings, as the forest faeries went about their midnight business. Sometimes she would see shadows of larger creatures, hear the howls and growls as they hunted and killed. Her midnight Watchings always left her with a sense of unease, but there was always the sense that she had to keep vigil; that some day it would be important that she be ready.

It had been years, however, since she'd felt the call for a Watching, but tonight she'd awoken just after midnight, skin crawling with an anxious knowing feeling, an itch that she couldn't scratch just out of reach. Wrapped in a quilt, though the summer solstice was just weeks away, she sat at the window and Watched. The forest, dormant for a decade now, was alive again. Flashes of light, flutters of wings. Shadows of larger creatures. The howls and growls of things hunting reached her, though she should be too far to hear--the walls of her family's estate too thick for the noises to penetrate--and yet she heard them, deep in her mind.

The magic was returning to this part of the forest, she realized, and swallowed against the fear, against the sense that this was what she'd been preparing for as a child. Something was coming back—and there were those rumors about the North. The ones no one was supposed to know about.

I'm going to no pressure tag @strangerthingswritersguild and @steddiebbang @hbyrde36, @pearynice, @maxfandoms, @nureyevsins, @machtaholic, @kikidoesfanfic, @bellandora, @vegasol, @eriquin, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation, @augustjustice, @dreamwatch, @little-annie, @cloudsurfing42, @yesdangerpls

[backwardshatnick]

𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌-𝖿𝖺𝖽𝖾, 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗇𝖽

in which chris' relationship with his girlfriend starts to crack.

It all started small.

Sage had stopped texting Chris outside of his radio shifts ever since the little dispute they shared in his bedroom. No more notifications coming into his phone where she typically sent him “Good luck” messages before each shift, “Good morning” and “Good night” texts everyday or seven minute-long voice notes complaining about sorority drama.

Chris did not think much of it at first and still continued sending her mirror selfies just like how he used to whenever he leaves home, forwarding her TikToks he found funny on his For You Page and figured that Sage was indeed just busy.

But then she stopped showing up at his house too, barely passing by to muster out a “Hello” when they happen to meet at the hallway, claiming that she was “too tired” or “needed to reset.” When he had offered to come and visit her at her house, Sage tended to have a billion reasons to say no.

And it was not until the second Saturday night after the request that things came to a head.

Chris had just finished his segment— another quiet, sleepy shift where the only requests came from the security guard who always had an ear for late 80s and 90s new wave music. No anonymous requests in the queue, making him wonder if he had imagined the whole thing.

He finally stepped out of the booth, locking it up and waving goodbye to the security guard and nearly dropped his phone on the snow when he saw Sage standing outside in the cold, arms folded, earbuds in, glaring at nothing with her cheeks pink and wrinkled in what could only be described as sadness.

“Babe?”

Sage stood up and strode over to where Chris was standing, “Hey. Figured we should talk.”

They walked next to each other in silence, hands kept in their pockets to keep them warm instead of having them in each others’ snug grasps and finally stopped in front of the steps of the library.

“Chris, I don’t think this is working anymore.”

Chris blinked in disbelief and scoffed, “What?”

“You’ve been different lately,” Sage exclaimed, “Distracted. All distant and somewhere else when we talk.”

“What do you mean? You’re the one who stopped replying to my texts, and hell, you’re the one who left without saying goodbye the last time we met. Is this about that anonymous request?” he huffed, the hot breath causing little foggy clouds to accompany his words.

Sage raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t even mention that.”

“Well, what else is it about then, Sage?”

At the bitter enunciation of her own name, she sarcastically answered, “But you thought it was. You’ve been thinking about her, haven’t you?”

He did not answer right away, stretching the silence between them again, the one that used to be filled with chuckles and half-finished stories.

Now it was a void.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Babe—”

Sage sneered at his face, tongue poking her inner left cheek, “Don’t even call me that anymore, Christopher.”

“Sage,” he exhaled, “If you think that we haven’t been okay prior to that, then okay. That’s your opinion. You were never supportive of my segments anyway.”

“So that’s it?” she replied, not wanting to look at Chris in the eyes as she had her head down.

His voice softened at her guilt-ridden manner, “You don’t listen to them. I sometimes play songs that you like, hoping you’d one day catch on.”

“You never played anything that I like,” Sage snapped.

“That’s because I know you never listen.”

She looked up and faced Chris’ blue eyes, sensing that something had indeed passed between them. It was not exactly anger, not jealousy, nor was it sadness. But instead it was a goodbye that had already started weeks ago.

“Then maybe we both deserve something better,” she said, the surrender lacing her voice.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “Maybe we do.”

Without another word, she walked away accompanied by the loud clacking of her boots tapping sharply against the sidewalk.

Chris stood still under the library steps, his hands in the pockets of his puffer jacket as he watched the sway of her figure grow smaller and further into the distance with every breath he let out.

She turned into a corner towards the courtyard before accidentally walking straight into someone, causing a soft yelp and a string of apologies to be heard after a splash of hot tea and the clatter of a paper cup on the pavement.

“Oh God, I am so sorry!” said a voice, startled.

Sage’s jacket was soaked down on one side, the brown from the Assam tea staining her navy blue fleece.

She looked up slowly and removed the wild strands of her black hair away from sticking to her wet cheeks, “It’s fine, I wasn’t looking where I was walking.”

The girl in front of her had her eyes wide open, still guilty and continued to apologise, “Seriously, I didn’t see you either. It’s dark and—”

“It’s fine,” Sage said sharply, cutting her off, making the girl flinch.

At her reaction, Sage sighed, brushing her damp hair out of her face, “Sorry, it’s just been a night. Don’t worry about me and take care.”

“Well, um... Take care to you... too,” the other replied hesitantly, her voice gentle and soft, sending Sage away with her eyes before she went up to crunch the empty paper cup and toss it at the nearest bin.

Somewhere in the distance, Chris had witnessed the whole thing but choosing to ignore while he was still overwhelmed with his own thoughts and feelings.

He watched it happen before his own eyes until his vision went blurry, blinking away some tears and exhaled, starting his own slow steps to the bus stop.

notes: thought this scene was necessary because i don't want to make it seem like reader is a homewrecker of some sort hjsjsjds. read first chapter here!

gif thanks to @vxnitra <3

divider thanks to @strangergraphics <3

📻 @ed1tssturnn

[hyperactively-me]

i'll be home for christmas, reunited with simon 🎄🫂🎁 i thought i had this in the queue, but it wasn't 😪 so here is a christmas eve work <3 merry belated christmas to all who celebrate. also, i listened to "i'll be home for christmas" by bing crosby whilst writing this...absolutely perfect!

warnings: suggestive flirting, none

It’s Christmas Eve. 

A Christmas tree sits in the corner of your living room, the twinkling lights gleaming and branches spilling with decadent ornaments and sparkling tinsel. 

Two stockings are pinned up to the wall, one for you, and one for him.

You had spent hours meticulously adorning the house with festive decorations, hoping to fill the empty spaces with the warmth of the holiday spirit. Yet, despite your cheerful surroundings, an overwhelming sense of loneliness grips your heart. The apartment felt too cold for comfort, cold air seeping in through microscopic cracks in the windows. 

Your boyfriend, Simon, had regretfully told you that he wouldn’t be able to make it home for Christmas due to a mission taking longer than originally expected. He let you know about two weeks ago, the guilt in his voice clearly evident over the phone. His absence weighs on you, making Christmas feel less like a celebration and more like a somber waiting game.

You tried to busy yourself with work and other things, an attempt to not feel so sad about Simon not spending Christmas with you this year. 

Now, as you sit on the couch, staring at the flickering flames in the fireplace, you can’t help but replay the memories of past holidays spent together. The laughter, the warmth, and the joy seem like distant echoes, and the empty space beside you on the couch accentuates the obvious void he’s left behind. 

The clock ticks away the hours, and with each passing minute, the hope that he might just show up lessens. Just when you resign yourself to a lonely Christmas Eve, you hear a sound that jolts you from your thoughts—the unmistakable creak of the front door opening.

At first, you’re afraid that someone broke into the house. Your heart races, fear suddenly taking over. Your eyes widen, scanning the room for something to defend yourself with, but then you hear it—that familiar voice calling your name.

“Hey there, love. Don’t go reachin’ for a weapon; it’s just me.”

You're momentarily speechless, your eyes wide with disbelief. Relief washes over you as you recognize Simon’s voice. 

You nearly trip over your own feet as you rush to the doorway. There he stands, wearing a black hoodie and black sweatpants alongside a heavy duffel slung over his shoulder. Simon’s piercing gaze meets yours, and a small, sheepish smile graces his lips. The loneliness you were feeling evaporates into thin air, replaced by a surge of joy. His familiar face is a sight for sore eyes, and the exhaustion etched across his face fades away in the warm light of your shared home.

“Simon!” you exclaim, throwing your arms around him. His hug is firm, and you can feel the tension of his absence slowly releasing from his body as he relaxes in your tight embrace. 

“Surprise,” he says, his voice a soothing balm. His hands run up and down your back, kneading into your skin. 

“I thought you said you wouldn’t make it back in time,” you manage to whisper, your voice muffled against his chest.

Simon chuckles softly, his warm breath tickling your ear. “Miss me much?”

You pull away, but your hands remain on his shoulders as you look up at him. “More than words can say. I’m completely surprised.”

Simon’s arms encircle your midsection protectively. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you spending Christmas alone. I managed to wrap things up sooner than expected.”

He leans down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. As you pull away, Simon’s gaze lingers on your face, his eyes growing with an intensity that you know he’s holding himself back on. 

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” you whisper. 

Simon’s grin widens, a playful glint in his eyes. “Believe it, baby.” 

With a gentle nudge, he leads you back to the living room. The Christmas tree and the cozy ambiance of the apartment suddenly feel more welcoming with Simon’s unexpected arrival. 

“You’ve done an amazing job with the decorations,” he comments, surveying the room. He drops his duffel bag to the floor. 

You glance around, admiring your own handiwork. “I wanted everything to be perfect in case you could make it home.” You shiver slightly, the lingering cold from earlier still not fully out of your system. 

He pulls you into another hug, his warmth enveloping you. “It’s more perfect than I could have imagined. Now, how about I keep you warm, lovie?” 

Simon sits you down on the couch, and you spend the rest of the evening talking, laughing, and cuddling in front of the Christmas tree. The cold loneliness that had settled in the apartment earlier in the day is replaced by the warmth of sharing body heat with your boyfriend and the comforting presence of a loved one.

[jadedbirch]

State Disability Life Hack

If you or your loved ones have ever been on state disability, then you probably know that communicating with them feels like screaming into the void, while banging your head against rock at the same time. I live in California, but I suspect these problems are pretty endemic regardless of which state you live in. The bureaucracy inherent in the system is so thick, that the slightest deviation from the norm in any of your answers to their regular follow up questions, will inevitably result in your payments being indefinitely delayed. This has happened to me twice in 6 months. In trying to resolve this issue, I once spent an entire day trying to call CA's SDI (State Disability Insurance) office. I called thirsty-six (36) times and never even so much as got in the queue to speak to an agent. In the meantime, I haven't been paid in 6 weeks (that's 3 payment cycles), but whatever - it's not like we need this money to live! It's incredibly frustrating that a system that's intended to support people with disability so that they can (ideally) get better and get back to work is designed so poorly that instead it causes disabled folks undue stress and illness complications. Because if you're disabled, chances are you don't have the spoons to go deal with this nonsense in person, or even spend all day trying to get through to a person on the phone.

So, what do you do? You contact your local State Assembly person. They all have a process called filing a legislative request which requires your local disability office to respond to them with an update on your case within a short time. And because they're technically the bosses of your local SDI, it'll move things forward for you. I contacted my State Assemblyman's office twice and each time SDI reached out to me the very next day and paid me right away (always without any explanation about why there was a delay in the first place). In fact, my Assemblyman's website has a special portal to request help resolving issues with the department of unemployment and disability - because this is such a common issue. Most people don't know you can get this kind of help - but now you do! So if you ever need help dealing with your disability/unemployment office, go straight to your Assembly member's website, because your taxes are paying their salaries.

P.S. I also had no idea who my Assembly person was, but I Googled it, like the genius that I am 😂

[ancientforgcd]

Things Ruby Is No Longer Allowed To Do

Ruby is no longer allowed to challenge people to rock-paper-scissors for control of multiversal assets.

Ruby is not allowed to use “Deez Nuts” as a valid argument in corporate meetings.

Ruby is not allowed to list “CEO of Everything” as her official job title on legal forms.

Ruby is not allowed to refer to Chione as “my emotional support maiden” in public interviews.

Ruby is no longer allowed to fuse with Blair without submitting the proper cooldown request form.

Ruby is not allowed to tell interns that Void Portals are how you “clock in.”

Ruby is not allowed to yell “Let’s test that theory!” before punching planetary cores.

Ruby is not allowed to rename the Hyperbolic Time Chamber to “The Get-Good Box.”

Ruby is not allowed to cook while in her Herrscher state.

Ruby is not allowed to bring the Dragon Balls to poker night.

Ruby is not allowed to list “Herself” as her emergency contact, again.

Ruby is not allowed to use Instant Transmission to skip lines. Not even for ice cream.

Ruby is not allowed to ask her daughters to “Zenkai bait” her as training.

Ruby is not allowed to send her taxes through a Void Portal.

Ruby is not allowed to challenge gods to fights just to see what happens.

Ruby is not allowed to tell people that Blair is “her goofy little sidekick.”

Ruby is not allowed to refer to her God of Destruction apprenticeship as “summer camp.”

Ruby is not allowed to use her Herrscher of Liberation Authority to win Mario Kart.

Ruby is not allowed to spar in CEO meetings unless someone rolls initiative.

Ruby is not allowed to casually say “I’ve killed gods for less” during brunch.

Ruby is no longer allowed to yell “HERRSCHER MODE ACTIVATE” before kicking down conference room doors.

Ruby is not allowed to bet multiversal real estate on arm wrestling contests with Blair.

Ruby is not allowed to use her Origin Form to “skip the queue” in the afterlife.

Ruby is no longer allowed to refer to Verda as her “emotional support stray.”

Ruby is not allowed to bribe Dracontines using RoseCorp stock.

Ruby is not allowed to use Time Stop to win arguments retroactively.

Ruby is no longer allowed to pull random relics out of the Void and say “trust me, it’s cool.”

Ruby is not allowed to weaponize HR complaints as training exercises.

Ruby is no longer allowed to describe her kids as “limited-edition boss drops.”

Ruby is not allowed to use Arancia’s report cards to measure galactic threat levels.

Ruby is not allowed to hold board meetings during active sparring sessions.

Ruby is not allowed to rewrite causality just because she “forgot to pick up milk.”

Ruby is not allowed to call Lux a “bootleg me with better posture.”

Ruby is not allowed to hijack Blair’s diplomatic meetings to sell RoseCorp plushies.

Ruby is no longer allowed to put Osiria’s homework in stasis for “maximum freshness.”

Ruby is not allowed to refer to herself in the third person as “The Patch Notes.”

Ruby is not allowed to replace every mention of "God" in holy texts with her own name.

Ruby is not allowed to introduce herself with a PowerPoint presentation titled “Why I Am Inevitable.”

Ruby is not allowed to fake her own death as a joke more than once per quarter.

Ruby is not allowed to refer to planetary annihilation as “a mild overreaction.”

Ruby is not allowed to host team bonding exercises inside a collapsing dimension again. —Even if she “made snacks” this time.

Ruby is not allowed to yell “Skill Issue!” after dodging fatal attacks in Ultra Instinct.

Ruby is not allowed to introduce herself as “Your Favorite Existential Threat.”

Ruby is not allowed to register under fake names for tournaments. —“Definitely Not Ruby” is not subtle.

Ruby is not allowed to ask the Dragon Balls for more Dragon Balls.

Ruby is not allowed to start fights with herself across timelines just to prove a point.

Ruby is not allowed to casually phase through walls during workplace evaluations.

Ruby is not allowed to teleport into war councils uninvited and immediately vote to “nuke it.”

Ruby is not allowed to refer to important relics as “my little guys.”

Ruby is not allowed to tell new recruits that Zenkai boosts work better if you “believe hard enough and get hit by a train.”

Ruby is not allowed to write off world domination as “aggressive philanthropy.”

Ruby is not allowed to refer to fusion as “co-op mode with Blair.”

Ruby is not allowed to refer to Osiria and Arancia as “my downloadable content.”

Ruby is not allowed to use her mimicry to impersonate Azathoth on calls.

Ruby is not allowed to use Subjective Reality to make her mistakes “not canon.”

Ruby is not allowed to sell fake relics labeled as “Limited Edition, Slightly Cursed.”

Ruby is not allowed to enter Primal form to skip meetings by triggering mass insanity.

Ruby is not allowed to slap warning labels on gods and call it crisis management.

Ruby is not allowed to put everything she doesn’t want to deal with “in the Void for later.”

Ruby is not allowed to name every backup AI “Ruby Prime 2: Electric Boogaloo.”

Ruby is not allowed to use Void Portals as a valid escape plan from awkward social interactions.

Ruby is not allowed to say “This is canon now” and expect reality to comply.

Ruby is not allowed to make her own theme song play in real time.

Ruby is not allowed to tell Kiana “you’re me, but less profitable.”

Ruby is not allowed to sneak in new transformations and say “they were always canon.”

Ruby is not allowed to refer to her Super Vacosian forms as “skins.”

Ruby is not allowed to describe herself as “the lore update nobody asked for.”

Ruby is not allowed to interrupt Blair’s political speeches by yelling “L + Ratio + Godslain.”

Ruby is not allowed to tell Aurem that Gold-Eye is “just Ultra Instinct for nerds.”

Ruby is not allowed to spawn a clone just to take the blame.

Ruby is not allowed to start fight clubs inside RoseCorp break rooms. —The first rule of Void Club is no Ruby.

Ruby is not allowed to teleport into people’s nightmares to deliver motivational speeches.

Ruby is not allowed to say “Zenkai time” and jump off tall objects recreationally.

Ruby is not allowed to rebrand as “RoseCoin.” —Cryptocurrency is not a transformation.

Ruby is not allowed to use “I was possessed” as an excuse for quarterly profit dips.

Ruby is not allowed to start group therapy with “So which one of me hurt you?”

Ruby is not allowed to teleport into enemy base camps just to insult their architecture.

Ruby is not allowed to list “Outer God” under special skills on her resume.

Ruby is not allowed to refer to her alternate selves as “seasonal variants.”

Ruby is not allowed to declare someone “a side character” during combat.

Ruby is not allowed to “liberate” plot armor from other protagonists.

Ruby is not allowed to conduct interviews while upside-down, on fire, or in Ultra Instinct. —It is “intimidating,” and “the camera caught nothing but light trails.”

Ruby is not allowed to declare “combat tax season” and raid rival factions.

Ruby is not allowed to refer to Verda’s training arc as “child labor, but make it character development.”

Ruby is not allowed to sponsor energy drinks labeled “Void Juice.” —Especially not with the tagline “It’s not illegal if you transcend legality.”

Ruby is not allowed to add herself to ancient prophecy texts. —The universe has already reprinted them twice.

Ruby is not allowed to charge Void entry fees and call it a theme park. —“Sufferland” is not an approved brand

Ruby is not allowed to pitch “Kill, Marry, Seal Away” as a real dating show.

Ruby is not allowed to teleport into live broadcasts just to wave at Blair.

Ruby is not allowed to classify Blair as “domesticated” on official forms.

Ruby is not allowed to say “It’s okay, I’m a CEO” before committing interstellar crimes.

Ruby is not allowed to rebrand her weapon as a “business expense.”

Ruby is not allowed to describe Verda as “the DLC character you unlock by doing side quests.”

Ruby is not allowed to update the RoseCorp employee handbook with memes. —Page 47 is just “Don’t die lol.”

Ruby is not allowed to name operations ever again. —“Project Rawdog” is not an acceptable codename.

Ruby is not allowed to mark opponents as “collectibles” mid-fight.

Ruby is not allowed to use her mimicry to reenact courtroom dramas by herself.

Ruby is not allowed to declare Blair “her favorite possession” in public. —Even if it’s technically accurate under Void contract law.

Ruby is not allowed to sell merchandise depicting her beating up gods. —Especially not with autographs signed “Sincerely, Your Local Narrative Wrecking Ball.”

Ruby is not allowed to say “plot twist” before punching someone through a building.

Ruby is not allowed to rename RoseCorp departments after her old forms. —Nobody wants to work in Super Vacosian 3 Logistics.