#what if I killed you oomfie...

[incorrect-league-of-villains]

Dabi: I know what you are.

Hawks: Say it.

Dabi: Problematic.

[bloodtwin]

𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄: OLD DOG LEARNING NEW TRICKS ;  𝐁𝐆𝟑  。

Default verse set during the events of Baldur's Gate III. Each act of the game has its own specific tag because there are very distinct differences in Puck's characterization & the amount of knowledge he has about who he is, depending on where he is in the journey.

𝐕. 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈. ➷ WHAT’S WITH THAT HOLE IN YOUR HEAD … ？

At the start of the game, Puck is at his most naive & most malleable. At his core, he has an idealistic mindset with recklessly heroic tendencies due to a strong sense of justice. However, he remembers nothing from his past & has no concrete basis for his beliefs. He can be easily swayed into giving in to his dark urges. That being said, he is deeply afraid of himself & his urges. He does not know the full extent of his strength, but he knows that he is more powerful than he'd like to be. He intentionally tries to make himself seem weaker than he is to be less intimidating. Whether or not he is successful in this endeavor is up in the air. He has a scar at the base of his back that he believes used to be a tail that got severed somehow. He cannot remember how it happened. Canonically, he is very open about the Dark Urge & does not attempt to hide the fact he killed Alfira. He chooses to save the grove.  

𝐕. 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈. ➷ YOU CAN BREAK A SHOVEL WHEN YOU BREAK NEW GROUND！

During this act, Puck is starting to lose his grip on his meek persona, asserting himself more aggressively & giving in to his urges more frequently ⸻ even if he is attempting to resist the urge ⸻ especially upon entering Moonrise Towers. His self-sacrificial behavior will also increase as he spreads himself too thin by trying to save everyone he possibly can. Also much more reclusive, not as open with his thoughts & emotions as he was in the previous act. Whether or not Puck chooses to kill Isobel ( default: sparing her ) , he will re-grow his tail overnight. Later in the act, he will learn it got chopped off by Kressa Bonedaughter after he attempted to strangle her with it during her experiments on him. With this verse, I will default to Iago being recruited at Last Light Inn, post-Marcus fight unless plotted otherwise. From them, Puck will have learned that he used to be their ❝ childhood friend ❞ & co-worker in the Guild. He will not know they are actually twins nor will he know anything about being a bhaalspawn, but he does know they are keeping things from him.   Canonically, he convinces Shadowheart not to kill the Nightsong. He also attempts to persuade Ketheric to surrender.  

𝐕. 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈. ➷ HE MADE THE WORM！HE HAS TO KILL THE WORM！

Post-Durge reveal, Puck now knows that he is a bhaalspawn & Iago is his twin. He also learns about his involvement in the plot of the Absolute. He kind of goes insane & has a, uhh, I Love It by Icona Pop ( feat. Charli XCX ) vibe going on. That's the best way I can describe what's going on in his head, sorry. I tried to write a serious description, but similarly to Puck's attitude in Act 3, I had to get silly with it. Canonically, he does not agree to an alliance with Gortash, rejects Bhaal & defeats the Netherbrain. 

[constellama]

The Magnus Archives Dashboard Simulator

🕷️ arachnophobia-incarnate Follow

Oh my god oomfies you’ll never believe what I just found

1,937,328 notes

📚 jonathan-sims Follow

HELP THERES A DOG ON MY DESK???

2 notes

🫖 poet-tea Follow

HELP I JUST LET MY DOG INTO MY BOSS’S OFFICE??

📚 jonathan-sims Follow

LITERALLY WHO ARE YOU

🛶 timtimothy Follow

LMAOOOOO

176 notes

🪱 residentwormgirl Follow

I think there’s a wasp’s nest in my attic. I’m gonna go check it out.

🪱 residentwormgirl Follow

Do you hear that

🪱 residentwormgirl Follow

This is kind of a bop actually

☕️ ihavenohotcocoa Follow

op? op are you ok

2,332 notes

🎭 reliable-down-to-earth-nerd Follow

going on a date tomorrow! 😀

🛶 timtimothy Follow

haha what.

🛶 timtimothy Follow

can you repeat that op

🛶 timtimothy Follow

op?

🛶 timtimothy Follow

op can you repeat that

57 notes

👁️ bouchard-elias Follow

I love my job. Everything just goes according to plan exactly how I want it to.

📖 bookluvr Follow

Hi

👁️ bouchard-elias Follow

hey sorry for this but you wouldn’t happen to have seen a lead pipe lying around would you?

80 notes

🤡 notmyvoicebox Follow

does anyone have any skin? For no reason whatsoever of course. Like if you just have it lying around. Out of use.

🌀 funhousemirrorman Follow

why do you need skin

🤡 notmyvoicebox Follow

wouldn’t you like to know, door boy

101 notes

🐺 detective-daisy Follow

is there wifi down here

⚰️ wakelyupwhenimdead Follow

no

🐺 detective-daisy Follow

HELLO?? HELLO CAN YOU HEAR ME??

📚 jonathan-sims Follow

I CAN! I CAN HEAR YOU

🐺 detective-daisy Follow

Oh. You.

📚 jonathan-sims Follow

What. What does that mean

132 notes

👓 reliable-down-to-earth-nerd Follow

I can sense a promotion coming soon I’m so excited !!!

👓 reliable-down-to-earth-nerd Follow

are you SERIOUS

🛶 timtimothy Follow

I’m going to kill that old man with my bare hands HOW DARE HE DO THIS TO YOU QUEEN

162 notes

👤 averagescarehater Follow

WHYYY IS THE SKY LOOKING AT MEEEE

📚 jonathan-sims Follow

my bad

200 notes

[initforthethrill]

panty drop aka cate’s tired of almosts, so she hopes silk will make you really see her tw: sex is mentioned but nothing explicit. this is basically just all fluff hehe. 5.7k+ words

everyone say thank you @dunlapism for reposting this gelphie art onto my tl which inspired this hehe i love all my oomfies so much what would i do without the constant inspiration from you all<3

Cate Dunlap wasn’t the kind of girl who obsessed over underwear.

Well. Not usually.

She liked her lingerie drawer the same way she liked her emotions—organized, expensive, and behind a lock. Satin for when she wanted to feel dangerous. Lace when she was feeling cruel. And cotton? Please. She isn’t twelve.

But this pair—this ridiculous, barely-there, cherry-blush silk thong with embroidered hearts and a teeny, tiny bow at the front—this one was different. This one had a purpose.

A mission, if you will.

It was the kind of lingerie that didn’t scream fuck me. It whispered date me. Worship me. Maybe take me to brunch sometime and walk me to class.

Anyway. The thong.

Cate bought it on a Tuesday after a particularly chaotic orgasm left her trembling against the headboard with your hand still knotted in her hair and her heart doing its best impression of a hummingbird. You’d whispered something after. Not sweet—not exactly. But soft. Reverent. Something like, “You always sound so pretty when you come.”

And Cate—Cate had gone completely, disgustingly feral.

Hence: the thong.

She’d paired it with a matching bra, delicate and sheer, designed more for unraveling than actual support. She even wore a dress that night—backless, halter-tied, black and devastating. It wasn’t a date. Of course not. You didn’t do dates. Just flirty texts and shared vices and Cate half-draped across your bed until dawn, pretending her perfume didn’t cling to the sheets for days.

Still. Hope was a slippery thing.

When you opened the door that night, hair still damp from a shower, t-shirt hanging off your shoulder, Cate’s whole stupid heart curled into itself like a ribbon.

She said, “Hi.”

You blinked at her. Said, “Jesus Christ.”

So far, so good.

“Come in,” you added, stepping aside. Cate did, trailing her fingers over the wall just because she knew you watched everything. Every movement. Every breath. That was the thing about you—stillness like a trap, quiet like a scream.

Cate wasn’t used to being the more obvious one. She didn’t like it.

You followed her into your dorm, tossed your phone onto the couch, and muttered, “You’re gonna kill me one of these days.”

Cate smiled. “Only if you’re lucky.”

She waited. Waited for the look. For your eyes to dip—linger. For a comment. A hand on her waist, tugging her closer with that low, gravel-slick voice saying something filthy, something worshipful.

Nothing.

Cate unzipped her dress herself.

You were not okay.

You’d known a lot of versions of Cate Dunlap by now. Sharp Cate. Teasing Cate. Soft, sleepy, vulnerable Cate who clung to you in the middle of the night like she didn’t mean to. But tonight? This was a new kind of menace.

And the dress—God, the fucking dress—was bad enough. But then she had taken it off, just stepped out of it like sin incarnate, and you had almost whimpered.

You noticed the lingerie immediately. Of course you did. You weren't blind.

But it was new. Cate had never worn this before. Not for you, at least.

And it wasn’t slutty, not really. It wasn’t the kind of thing someone wore just to get railed. It was the kind of thing that meant something. Soft pink. Girlish. Stupidly delicate.

Your brain short-circuited.

Which—okay. Cool. Fine. No pressure. Just pretend you didn’t notice the tiny fucking bow. That was totally normal.

Cate was watching you now. Expectant. A flicker of something in her eyes, like she was waiting for—

No. You couldn’t say it. Couldn’t let on that you had been keeping track. That you knew every pair Cate had ever worn around you, whether they’d stayed on for long or not. That you’d fantasized about this—this exact look, this exact softness—for weeks.

Instead, you cleared your throat and asked, “Do you want the lights off?”

Cate’s smile faltered for a second. “Whatever you want.”

Fuck.

You had sex. Of course you did. Cate came twice. You pulled her apart like you were born to do it. Like you knew her body better than your own goddamn reflection. But through it all, Cate couldn’t stop thinking: she didn’t notice.

She didn’t notice the hearts. Or the bow. Or the way Cate had smoothed lotion over her thighs for an extra ten minutes just in case your hands wandered there first.

You didn’t notice because you didn’t care.

And fuck, that shouldn’t hurt. It shouldn’t.

You weren’t dating.

Cate rolled over afterward, tugging the sheets higher even though she wasn’t cold. Her back was to you. Always was. Easier that way.

“You okay?” you murmured.

Cate nodded into the pillow. “Mhm. Just tired.”

There was a pause. Then a soft shuffle of movement. You pressed a kiss to her shoulder blade. Gentle. Hesitant.

Cate nearly cried.

You stared at the ceiling for twenty minutes after Cate fell asleep.

You hadn’t meant to ruin it.

You just—panicked.

The new underwear was…it was a lot. A message, maybe. A test?

You didn’t want to get it wrong.

Because if Cate was trying to say something—if she wanted more—then God, you wanted to meet her there. Wanted to take her on a real date, hold her hand in public, fall asleep tangled up without having to pretend it didn’t mean anything in the morning.

But what if it wasn’t that?

What if it was just lingerie?

What if pointing it out made Cate retreat? What if she laughed?

You turned your head, watching Cate’s spine rise and fall with every breath. She looked soft in the moonlight. Breakable. Her hair a mess across the pillow, lips parted in sleep.

You could say something tomorrow. Maybe.

If you’re brave enough.

Cate left in the morning without waking you.

She sat on the edge of the bed, pulled on her dress slowly, and tried not to look at the bra and thong clutched in her fist. The lace had gone slightly wrinkled. The bow was a little crooked.

She’d thought she could seduce clarity out of you. That maybe if she looked desirable enough, obvious enough, you would finally say what you were both thinking.

Instead, all she got was a vague goodnight kiss and a confusing tangle of limbs under the covers that left her chest aching worse than her thighs.

She stuffed the lingerie to the bottom of her purse and left the dorm without a word.

You knew something was wrong the second you woke up alone.

The sheets beside you were cold.

Cate always stayed for breakfast. Or at least long enough to pretend she wasn’t staying. She’d steal one of your t-shirts, sip coffee with her legs curled up on the couch, pretend she didn’t care that her lipstick was still on your mouth.

Always.

Until now.

You sat up, scrubbing a hand over your face, throat already tight with the worst kind of knowing. The quiet kind. The kind that didn’t shout or slam doors. The kind that crawled under your ribs and stayed there.

Your phone buzzed once.

[Cate]: thanks for last night. see you around. xx

See you around.

Not “breakfast?” Not “come over tomorrow?” Not even the casual “let me know when you’re free” that had started to sound suspiciously like dating even though you’d never said the word.

You stared at the message until it blurred. Your chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself, slow and silent and stupid.

See you around.

Fuck.

By 3 p.m., you’d gone through three cups of coffee, one panic attack in the gym showers, and two half-drafted texts you couldn’t bring yourself to send.

One of them read:

hey, did i do something?

The other was:

i noticed you left early. you okay?

Neither felt right. Too much. Not enough.

Instead, you sent:

can we talk?

Ten minutes passed.

Then twenty.

Then forty-five.

Cate was always fast at texting back. Always.

You started pacing your room, hands on your hips, heart in your throat. You didn’t even have a name for what you were. Didn’t have a label for this thing—this weird, hot, messy thing where Cate let you in but only halfway. Where you pretended not to care when you left with lipstick on your neck and perfume still clinging to your skin.

But you cared. God, you fucking cared.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the night before. The new lingerie. The silence. The way Cate had turned away from you in bed like it meant nothing.

But it had meant something. It had to.

Didn’t it?

Your phone buzzed again.

[Cate]: I guess. If you want to.

That shouldn’t have hurt. It did anyway.

Cate hadn’t been crying when you got there. Not at first.

She looked fine. Polished, even. Ponytail. Lip gloss. Wearing one of those expensive pajama sets that made her look like a 1950s housewife in therapy.

But you knew her too well now. Knew that the glossier Cate looked, the more fucked-up she probably felt.

You stood awkwardly in the doorway. “Hi.”

Cate nodded, stepping aside to let you in. She didn’t touch you. Didn’t smile.

You swallowed. “Did I do something?”

Cate blinked. “What?”

“I just—” You ran a hand through your hair. “You left before I woke up. And you never do that. And then you texted me like we were strangers, and now you’re—”

“I’m what?”

You exhaled, slow and shaky. “Distant.”

Cate laughed once, brittle and small. “You noticed?”

“Of course I noticed.”

You stared at each other for a second. Cate’s arms were folded tightly over her chest, like she was holding herself together through sheer willpower. You’d never wanted to touch someone so badly. Not even to kiss her. Just—to hold her. To fix it.

“Did I do something wrong?” you asked quietly. “If I did, I’m sorry. I mean that.”

Cate’s expression cracked like glass.

“You didn’t say anything,” she whispered.

“What?”

“About the lingerie,” Cate said. “It was new. I wore it on purpose. I—I picked it out for you. And you didn’t even notice.”

Your heart stopped.

“Cate,” you said, stepping closer. “I noticed. I noticed the second you took off your dress.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” Her voice broke on the last word.

“Because I thought I’d make it weird. I thought—God, I thought maybe it didn’t mean what I wanted it to mean. And if I said something and I was wrong, then I’d lose you. Or you’d laugh. Or worse—you’d look at me like I was pathetic.”

Cate’s eyes filled so fast it made you ache.

“You’re not pathetic,” she said, voice crumbling. “You’re just—brave in every way except this one.”

Your breath caught.

Cate wiped at her cheeks, frustrated. “I just wanted to know if you were thinking about me like that. If you wanted more. Because I do. I do, and I’m scared all the time that I want too much and you don’t want anything.”

“Cate—”

“I’m not good at this,” she went on. “I’m good at being hot and fuckable and mysterious. I’m not good at being chosen. Or loved. I’ve never been the person someone stays for.”

You didn’t mean to grab her. You just—moved.

You crossed the room and wrapped Cate in your arms, one hand in her hair, the other on her spine, pulling her in so tightly it felt like breathing again.

Cate melted.

“I notice everything about you,” you whispered into her temple. “I just didn’t know I was allowed to.”

Cate clung to her, trembling. “You are.”

You stood there for a long moment, forehead to forehead, breath shared in the hush between apologies.

Finally, Cate said, “So we’re both idiots.”

“Apparently.”

“Do you want to be idiots together?”

You smiled. “Only if we can make out about it.”

Cate laughed through her tears, then kissed you hard enough to make you both a little dizzy.

You woke up first.

That was rare. Cate was usually up before you—already dressed, already glossy, already pretending she hadn’t just spent the night curled against you like the world would end if you drifted apart. But not this morning.

This morning, Cate was soft and unguarded and still asleep, her lashes dark against her cheeks, mouth parted slightly as she breathed.

You watched her for a long time.

You didn’t mean to.

You just…couldn’t look away.

Cate looked young like this. Not in the helpless way—never that. Just quiet. Real. Her hand was resting on your stomach, fingers splayed like she was marking territory even in sleep. Her leg was draped over one of yours, blanket tangled between you.

Everything about it should’ve screamed we just fucked.

But you hadn’t.

You hadn’t even taken your clothes off.

Last night had been all crying and honesty and aching truth between tangled limbs, and then Cate had curled into your chest like a heartbeat and just…stayed.

You were still high from it.

Carefully, you slid your hand into Cate’s hair, combing through the strands, gentle as anything. Cate made a sleepy noise and burrowed closer.

“Mm. Hi,” she mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

You smiled. “Hey.”

Cate blinked up at her, squinting. “You stayed.”

“I live here,” you said, deadpan. Clearly joking.

Cate whacked her lightly in the stomach. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” your hand settled on her waist. “You didn’t run.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

You searched her face. “You really want this?”

Cate’s brows knit. “You think I’d cry like that for someone I didn’t want?”

You were quiet.

Cate softened. “I want to try,” she said. “Whatever this is. But I don’t want to rush it. I mean—I do, obviously, I want to throw you down and ruin your life.”

You made a strangled noise.

Cate smiled. “But maybe we should…pace ourselves. Start over, kind of. Try being around each other without always ending up naked.”

You blinked. “Like…a no-sex thing?”

Cate bit her lip. “For a little while. Two weeks?”

You stared at her.

Cate quickly added, “We can still make out. And hang out. And flirt. And sleep in the same bed. Just—no sex. Let it build.”

You were still staring.

Cate’s confidence wavered. “Too much?”

You groaned and flopped backward. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“But is it a yes?”

You looked at her, eyes bright. “Yeah. It’s a yes.”

Cate beamed. “Okay. Two weeks.”

Somehow—against all odds—they’d made it to day three.

Except today? Today Cate was wearing glasses.

She didn’t need them—you knew that. But she wore them anyway, because apparently God wanted you to suffer.

You were seated across from each other in the campus library, Cate pretending to read from a psychology textbook, you pretending not to stare at the way her mouth moved when she chewed the end of her pen.

Cate looked up suddenly. “You’re not reading.”

“You’re chewing.”

“I always chew.”

“Yeah,” you muttered. “That’s the problem.”

Cate grinned and crossed her legs slowly under the table. You made the mistake of glancing down.

You’d made out in three different hallways earlier. Cate had whispered something filthy in your ear right before you walked into the library and then immediately started acting innocent, like she didn’t make you want to combust.

You scribbled something on a notecard and slid it across the table.

You’re evil.

Cate wrote back.

You love it.

You bit your lip. Smiled. God, you really do.

Day seven and the pact was still very much intact.

The weather was perfect for a picnic. You brought snacks. Cate brought sunscreen and emotional damage.

You spread out a blanket under one of the big oak trees by the music building and just…talked.

Like you were normal. Like this was something people did.

You played music off your phone. Cate stole all the watermelon and fell asleep with her head in your lap halfway through a Fleetwood Mac song.

You stroked her hair, feeling like your chest was too small for her heart.

When Cate woke, blinking slowly, she looked up at you with that undone expression—soft, tired, safe.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she whispered.

“Like what?”

Cate turned onto her back, cheek still pressed to your thigh. “Like I’m something you want.”

You swallowed. “Because you are.”

Cate didn’t say anything. But she reached for your hand and threaded your fingers together, holding tight.

Day eleven was largely uneventful. Until Marie’s monthly movie night.

Cate sat so close on the couch that you thought your skin might ignite.

Emma kept glancing between you like she knew. Jordan, sprawled in a beanbag, said nothing but raised an eyebrow every time Cate laughed too hard at one of your dumb jokes.

Cate didn’t care. She leaned into your side like she belonged there.

You wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

No one said a word, but Emma texted you later:

did y’all get married during midterms or what the fuck is going on

You sent back:

it’s complicated

It was the last night of the pact. Fourteen days. No sex.

You’d made it.

To celebrate, you met on the roof of your dorm building, both a little early, both pretending you hadn’t been counting down the minutes. Cate had on one of your sweatshirts—massive on her, sleeves covering her hands. Her lip gloss was peachy-pink. Her cheeks were flushed.

You were already in pain.

You didn’t talk much at first. Just stood close, watching the campus lights blink on below you.

Cate spoke first.

“Do you think we’re better now?”

You looked over. “Better?”

“At this. At…trying.”

You considered it. “Yeah. I do.”

Cate smiled, slow and shy. “Me too.”

You turned to face her fully. Your heart in your throat.

“Cate.”

Cate met your eyes.

“I know we made a pact,” you said. “I know we’re technically still in the window.”

Cate tilted her head. “Are you asking to break it?”

“No.” You swallowed. “I’m asking if I can take you on a real date tomorrow night.”

Cate stared at you.

Like really stared.

And then—

“You mean like…” Her voice broke. “Public? Food? Reservations?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Like that. Like I come to your door and knock and tell you you look beautiful and open the car door and take you somewhere nice where I don’t try to fuck you in the bathroom.”

Cate blinked very fast.

You stepped closer. “You don’t have to say yes. I just—I wanted you to know I want that. I want to be your person. Not just your fuck, not just your fling. Your real thing.”

Cate made a small noise, then launched herself into your arms.

“Is that a yes?” You whispered against her temple.

Cate nodded into your shoulder. “Yes. God, yes.”

You held her tighter.

And somewhere below you, the world kept turning. Lights blinked. Cars passed. Someone started playing guitar in a neighboring dorm.

But on the rooftop, you just stood there, wrapped in each other like gravity didn’t exist.

Cate was buzzing—half excitement, half nerves—as she got ready for the evening. She kept checking the clock, adjusting her dress, touching up her eyeliner because tonight could change the trajectory of their lives forever. No pressure, though.

There was a knock.

Cate froze mid-lipstick.

A knock. Not a text. Not a here or a let me in.

A knock.

She pressed a hand to her chest for a second, willing her heart not to punch its way out through her ribs, then grabbed her perfume bottle and misted twice—once at her neck, once at her wrist—and opened the door.

And nearly passed out.

You stood in the hallway in a perfectly tailored black suit. No tie. Shirt unbuttoned at the throat. A thin silver chain glinting above your collar. Your hair was styled in that slightly messy, I got ready in five minutes but still look criminally hot way. And in your hands—

A bouquet.

Of peonies. And ranunculus. And roses.

Cate’s favorite.

She didn’t even know you knew the word ranunculus.

“Oh my god,” Cate whispered.

You grinned, nervous. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Cate said, taking the flowers automatically. “You’re in a suit.”

“You’re in a dress.”

Cate looked down at herself—sleek black silk, open back, heels that made her legs look insane—and then back at you, shifting your weight like you were shy.

You. Shy.

Cate was in danger.

“You look…” you paused, exhaling. “Like trouble.”

“Good trouble?”

“The best kind.”

Cate hid a smile in the flowers. “You’re allergic to these.”

You shrugged. “Worth it.”

Cate’s face did something embarrassing.

“Ready?” you asked.

Cate nodded. “Just let me grab my purse.”

Luke’s car was clean. Suspiciously clean.

You opened the door for her like some kind of movie boyfriend, even waited until she was buckled before walking around to the driver’s side.

“You detailed this?”

“Marie made me. She said if you got in and saw crumbs, I’d never get to touch you again.”

Cate laughed. “Smart girl.”

You smiled, a little crooked. “I really want to impress you.”

“You already do.”

You’d even made a reservation in the city.

Cate hadn’t even known you could make reservations. She wasn’t even sure you knew how OpenTable worked. But here you were, being led to a corner booth in a warm, bustling Italian place lit by low chandeliers and candles in wine bottles.

Cate slid into the booth across from you, heels kicking gently against your boots under the table.

You glanced down at the table, then at her. “So.”

“So,” Cate said, chin propped in her hand.

“You’re not nervous at all, are you?”

“I’m always nervous,” Cate said. “I just hide it better.”

You grinned. “Fair.”

You ordered. Cate asked the waiter what wine he recommended and actually listened to the answer, which made you stare at her like she’d just recited poetry.

You talked about classes. About music. About a professor who definitely hated you and possibly had a crush on Cate. You shared bruschetta and Cate moaned a little too enthusiastically over the burrata, and you said, “Jesus, you’re gonna get us kicked out,” and Cate just smiled with tomato on her lip like she was doing it on purpose.

Halfway through the meal, you reached across the table and took her hand.

Just—held it.

No fanfare. No commentary.

Cate’s heart hiccuped.

She squeezed back.

Later, with the city humming around them and the night stretching wide and warm, you walked side by side through Central Park—closer now, changed in some quiet, permanent way.

You walked slowly, Cate’s heels clicking against the pavement while you carried a little paper bowl of overpriced lavender-lemon gelato. Cate had insisted on one scoop, one spoon, which had been cute until she started stealing the biggest bites and making eye contact while doing it.

You were red from the ears down.

You found a bench. Sat close. Arms touching.

Cate licked the spoon, slow. “So.”

“So,” you echoed.

“This was nice.”

“It was.”

“I had a good time.”

“I’m gonna cry if you don’t kiss me soon.”

Cate blinked. Then smiled. “Really?”

You gave her the smallest, softest look. “Cate, I’ve wanted to kiss you since we left the dorm. I’ve wanted to kiss you since you opened the door. Since the first time you walked into my life and insulted my shoes.”

“They were hideous.”

“They were beloved,” you said solemnly.

Cate set the spoon down in the empty bowl.

Then cupped your face with both hands.

And kissed you.

Not like the other kisses—hot and urgent and pressed against doors or tangled in bedsheets.

This one was slow. Certain. The kind of kiss that says, I want everything with you. I’ll wait. I’ll try.

Your hand came up to cradle her waist.

You stayed like that for a long time.

When you finally pulled back, Cate rested her forehead against yours.

“Okay,” she whispered. “So maybe this is real.”

You nodded, smiling. “Yeah. It is.”

Cate reached for your hand again, fingers weaving through yours.

“Wanna make out in the backseat of Luke’s car?”

You choked on air. “Cate.”

“I didn’t say more than make out.”

“You’re a menace.”

Cate batted her lashes. “But I’m your menace.”

You laughed. Loud and real and completely in love.

And when you walked back to the car, still hand in hand, you thought, I want this every Saturday. Every morning. Every life.

You slid into the backseat like you were stepping into something private—something soft and delicious. The front seats were pushed forward just enough so your knees met, pressing into each other’s. Cate’s heels were off, tossed beside her like an afterthought. You had unbuttoned your suit jacket, chest open in that way that said both vulnerability and invitation.

“Okay…” you whispered, voice a mix of caution and need.

Cate leaned in, forehead to forehead. “Okay.”

Your lips met slow—testing the water, pulling back, murmuring breathless laughs. It was electric enough to charge the car, raw enough to make you both catch your breath. Cate’s hands fumbled with your shirt buttons, and you wove your fingers into Cate’s hair as if you were holding a lifeline.

Every kiss was a promise: we’re past the fuck-only games, past the no-sex pact, past all the shit we used to say to keep it easy. This was intimacy. This was dangerous. This was everything.

Cate’s fingertips traced under your collar, the faint scent of your suit mingling with the lavender gelato from earlier, and your breath hitched.

You paused, lips hovering at Cate’s earlobe. “We need—”

“Shh,” Cate whispered, pressing her mouth against your jaw, neck, collarbone. She moved with confidence, reclaiming what you’d both been staking a claim on for weeks. No hurry, just worship.

Your knees grazed. Thighs rubbed. Breathing got quicker. Your hand moved lower, brushing over the soft lace of Cate’s dress—which was risky, considering the no-sex pact had just expired. But you both knew: tonight wasn’t about breaking rules. It was about exploring new territory, together.

Cate gasped when your fingers dipped under the fabric, skimming her hip. “Baby…”

“Yeah?” you murmured into Cate’s hair.

“I think Luke’s car is…endorsing this.”

You laughed softly, teeth nipping at her collar. “Come on,” you whispered back, voice thick. “Let me show you how much.”

Cate drew you in again. Your bodies pressed close, voices lost to ragged kisses and murmured names. The glow from the parking lot light filtered through the glass, haloing you in a blur of anonymity—a world away from dorm rooms and half-formed feelings.

You broke for air finally, foreheads together, chest to chest, both trembling.

“Are you okay?” you asked, voice gentle.

“Yeah,” Cate whispered. “Better than I’ve ever been.”

You cupped her face. “Same.”

You kissed again—slow at first, then deeper, as if catching up for all the time you’d held back. Clothes wrinkled. Heat pooled. But the magic wasn’t in the horny energy; it was in the closeness, the safety, the joy of touching someone who finally asked to hold you and meant it.

Eventually, you checked the time on your phone. “We should probably—”

Cate sat up slightly, hair mussed, face glowing. “Yeah.”

But neither of you moved to leave.

Instead, you gathered your arm around Cate’s shoulders and tugged her into a spooning position, legs curled in, head tucked into her neck. Cate’s hand found yours and held it tight.

You fell silent, letting the engine’s hum and night air fill the space between you. A moment after midnight, and everything felt just right—unrushed, safe, and exactly what you’d needed.

“Good date?” Cate asked, voice muffled.

“The best,” you whispered back. “Let’s do this again.”

Cate squeezed your hand. “Definitely.”

You stayed there together—no rush, no pretense, just real and warm in the backseat of Luke’s car—both of you feeling a little drunk on possibility, and more in love than either of you dared to admit until now.

It should’ve been the beginning of something easy.

But instead, the next few days unfolded in careful restraint.

No sleepovers. No sex. Just kisses in stairwells, long glances across classrooms, and the way your hand would brush Cate’s lower back as you walked side by side, close but never too close.

It was maddening. Perfect. A slow burn Cate couldn’t shake.

By Thursday, she was wound tight and glowing with nerves.

She’d planned the perfect surprise—just the right balance of lace, confidence, and please take me apart. All you had to do was walk through the door.

Now she was painfully, suspiciously calm.

She’d worn her hair down on purpose. Laughed too hard at your jokes at lunch. Spent a frankly unholy amount of time trying on lingerie in front of her mirror after class, talking herself in and out of each pair like she was choosing a weapon for war.

This one was the winner.

Midnight blue lace, barely-there, with a tiny velvet ribbon at the waistband. No hearts this time. No hopeful little bow. Just elegance. Confidence. Pick me, and know I pick you right back.

She tucked it under a silk robe and waited for the knock.

You showed up with snacks and your guitar, acting like you didn’t already know you’d be sleeping over. But the moment you stepped inside and saw Cate—curled on the edge of her bed, robe slipping off one shoulder, a smile just this side of wicked—everything in you short-circuited.

Cate stood. Moved slowly. Closed the distance between you with a kind of quiet certainty.

“Hey,” she said, soft.

“Hey,” you echoed, already breathless.

“You staying?” Cate asked, voice velvet.

You didn’t answer.

You just leaned in and kissed her.

It started sweet. Familiar. The kind of kiss you give your person after a long day, when you’ve missed their mouth even though you saw them five hours ago. But then Cate pulled at your shirt, tugging it over your head, and things went molten fast.

You tumbled back onto the bed, laughing breathlessly into each other’s mouths. Cate pulled her robe loose, letting it fall away as you hovered above her, lips brushing the hinge of her jaw.

And then—

You saw them.

The panties.

And froze.

Your hand paused at Cate’s hip, fingers just brushing the lace. Your eyes widened.

“You—” you blinked. Swallowed. “You wore new ones again.”

Cate’s stomach dropped. “You noticed?”

“Cate,” you breathed, reverent. “How could I not?”

You sat back on your knees a little, just enough to look. Cate flushed under the attention—hot, pink, adored.

“These are…” you dragged your fingertips along the edge of the lace. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Cate tried for coy. “I mean. You didn’t say anything last time.”

You looked at her, the weight of it settling in your eyes. “Yeah. And I’ve regretted it every day since.”

Cate’s lips parted.

“I noticed those too,” you went on. “The pink ones. The hearts. The little bow. I just…I got scared. That it meant something.”

“It did mean something,” Cate whispered.

“I know that now.”

You leaned in. Kissed just above the waistband.

Then lower.

And again, just at the inside of her hip.

Cate’s breath hitched.

“These,” you said, voice rough, “mean something too. Don’t they?”

Cate nodded. “They mean I wanted you. Tonight. On purpose.”

You met her eyes. “I want you too. Still. Always.”

Cate’s hands curled in your hair, tugging you in. The kiss that followed was desperate. Heated. Laced with all the restraint you’d shed since the pact ended and your love stopped hiding.

And this time—when you kissed your way down and pulled the lace aside with slow, worshipful fingers—Cate felt seen.

Not just wanted. Known.

After, Cate was sprawled like a queen.

Flat on her back, robe discarded on the floor, lips kiss-swollen and hair an absolute mess. She looked ruined in the most luxurious way—like she'd just been thoroughly adored and hadn't stopped smiling since.

You lay beside her on your stomach, cheek pillowed against the bare curve of Cate’s hip, one arm draped across her stomach like you were trying to anchor yourself there. Your breath was still a little uneven. Your body still humming.

“Okay,” Cate said, voice lazy, satisfied. “So you do care about my underwear.”

You groaned into her skin. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying.” Cate turned her head, grinning. “Took you long enough.”

“You don’t understand,” you mumbled. “They were so intense. You wore literal embroidered hearts. It was a statement.”

“I was trying to get your attention!”

“You had it,” you muttered. “You’ve always had it.”

Cate’s smile faltered slightly. Softened.

She reached down and carded her fingers through your damp hair, gentle and rhythmic. “You could’ve told me.”

You tilted your head just enough to look up. “I didn’t want to fuck it up.”

“You couldn’t have.”

“I almost did.”

Cate was quiet for a second. Then: “But you didn’t.”

You turned fully onto your side, propping your chin on Cate’s stomach. “Yeah. Somehow.”

You looked at each other for a moment in the low light—Cate’s bedside lamp glowing amber, casting shadows across your freckles, your still-reddened cheeks, the way your lips curved upwards just barely like you didn’t even know you were smiling.

Cate nudged you. “You were really good.”

You blinked. “At the date?”

“Sure. That too.”

Your ears went pink.

Cate giggled, threading a leg through your. “God, you’re so easy to fluster.”

“You’re so mean.”

“I’m not! I’m sweet. And thoughtful. And I wear special panties just for you.”

You groaned again and collapsed against her. “You’re never gonna let this go.”

“Not a chance.”

A beat passed.

Then, quietly—

“Cate?”

Cate hummed.

“Can I say something kind of stupid?”

Cate looked down at you, hand still in your hair. “Always.”

You hesitated. Then, softly: “I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Cate’s chest ached.

“I know that’s probably pathetic,” you added quickly. “But I—I didn’t think this kind of thing got to be mine. You. Us. Something real. Something that doesn’t come with an expiration date.”

Cate leaned down and kissed you gently. Just once.

“It’s not pathetic,” she said. “It’s perfect.”

You buried your face in her stomach.

Cate played with a strand of your hair. “I think I might buy another pair.”

Your voice was muffled. “Of what?”

Cate smiled. “Special panties.”

You immediately sat up, eyes wide. “Are you trying to kill me again?”

Cate just grinned. “Maybe.”

You growled, lunged forward, and tackled her back into the pillows.

You kissed until you were breathless all over again, laughter tangled in your mouths, a future together spilling out across the bed like sunlight.

♡ | say something

[jaehaeryshater]

Ygritte and her daughter Bael Whitewolf

art by: @nautieval

I am so grateful that my oomfie worked on this commission for me. This is literally my fifth Ygritte commission 😭😭😭 at this point I’m her biggest fan. I think that it turned out so beautifully. It’s also the first art I’ve paid for that includes Ygritte’s daughter beyond the fashion sheet Nata made me for the entire House in December. I love Ygritte and I love Bael, I’m so happy to see them together and see Ygritte as a mom. Obviously she has many faults and is a violent person, but at least with small children she canonically does have a soft spot and I think she would have loved being a mother so long as she didn’t have to compromise who she was a person.

This is from my AU where Jon becomes King Beyond The Wall before he abandons the Freefolk. The AU predicates on the theory that the Others will only negotiate with a Stark and that all other attempts to get rid of them will fail (obviously I don’t think this is true canonically but the AU is if it’s true), based on the very first chapter of AGOT where the Others were communicating over Royce, perhaps they were wondering whether he was a Stark, which would mean they should capture him instead of killing him. It actually isn’t all that relevant if it’s true, only if the Freefolk believe it is. Mance wants the best for his people and he wants them to survive, so he passes his metaphorical crown to Jon. That’s when Jon forms House Whitewolf and he marries Ygritte since he decides he will try to negotiate with the Wall instead of going back to them entirely (his need to feel important and needed of his own volition, especially since his brother was also King, is also a factor as to why he stays). Please please please, I am begging you, don’t complain that he’s married to Ygritte instead of Val. This all occurs without the Battle of Castle Black and with who Jon is as a person, the responsibility he feels he owes, and the fact that he believes he is in love with Ygritte, is the reason that in an attempt to maintain as close of a character as he was in the books, he marries her. If you want an AU where he marries Val, I encourage you to make it because it is quite fun to do. Back to the timeline, Bael is born on the march down to the Wall, where Jon is hoping he can get the Freefolk through. They don’t stop for long for her birth, only during Ygritte’s labor, then they continue, as time is of the essence. Bael is Jon’s heir until her brother is born three years later, which is a foreign concept to the Freefolk as they previously did not pass Kingship on that way. But she shares Jon’s blood and should Jon come to pass, she would be their only hope of ever communicating with the Others. She’s also important in the negotiation with the Wall as Alliser tries to coax Jon into giving up all his demands and surrender himself for execution as long as they let Bael and Ygritte through the Wall.

Ygritte is a very good mother and protective of her daughter. She loves her with all her heart, as does Jon, but as Jon is incredibly busy, she does have a special connection with her oldest child. She raises her up like a Freefolk woman and she’s as soft with her as a quencher of the Freefolk could be expected to be. She’s so proud of the human she’s created and that she has fulfilled her ultimate person from the Old Gods. When Jon is off in battle, she serves as a regent in her daughter’s best interest.

I have a whole headcanon post for this AU and House Whitewolf, if anyone is interested. I posted it on either November or December. I cover everything from Bael to the rest of the children, the children’s hobbies that are influenced by indigenous cultures. I talk about where the Freefolk eventually settle as well as what changes Jon makes to their culture and how him being King is different than Kings of the past.

I cannot think @nautieval enough, they honestly got this out really fast for me and didn’t need a lot of references. The art is super pretty, their commissions are open as of now so I of course encourage anyone and everyone to reach out and purchase a commission from them.

[hvcrver]

i want to grab you in my fist and squeeze just GRRRR

im at the LIBRARY CHEESE this isn't the TIME for you to make me want to talk about how FEITAN and his PRIDE affects his ABILITY TO FUNCTION AS A PERSON and HOLD RELATIONSHIPS AUGUGHIEENNJNJNJEGGNRBGRRGGR SNARRLSSS

i do like to imagine the duality of being a shared darling of feitan and chrollo

for your birthday chrollo takes you to the most expensive restaurant he can find, having spent hours researching your tastes so that he knows what starter, main, and dessert you’ll like, what time you should eat them, etc.

then he’ll take you for a walk across the beach, or to the top of the mountains, anywhere he’d know you’d love. when you’re there he’ll present his gift, something heartfelt and personal, and no doubt very expensive. after all this, he’ll bring you back to the apartment he keeps you in where feitan is waiting after having completed a job.

he got you like. idk. a microwave meal. one that’s probably out of date and has a suspicious stain on the packaging. maybe he’ll put a candle on top of it but it won’t be lit, you’ll be lucky if it’s even out of its box.

yes if you don’t seem pleased feitan will be upset and grouchy for the rest of the week.

[visenyaism]

do you have any thoughts on what westeros would have looked like if rhaegar had been married to cersei?

no this is such an interesting question. all credit to oomfie @dwellordream and the sexy genius braintrust at iatc for discussing this earlier but like in summary. cersei and jaime initially fall out because she does genuinely like rhaegar, but that doesn’t last forever because she eventually still gets disillusioned because of rhaegar’s whole disaffection prophecy thing. i don’t think rhaegar runs off with anyone if he has no problem having kids in his first marriage. rebellion is probably between paranoid Aerys and Rhaegar-Tywin front, but they probably also fall out once tywin realizes rhaegar is not as easy of a puppet as his crazy dad. I think Cersei still eventually tries to have him killed, but because he is not an alcoholic manchild it’s significantly more difficult and she maybe fails at that maybe succeeds but looks incredibly suspicious. so they have a second smaller war about which of those kids are going to be the heir.

most importantly visenya ii targaryen is born bright golden blonde with a quick sword arm a quicker smile and a seething hatred of crossbowmen and everyone in the riverlands feels a shiver run down their spine for reasons they cannot explain but will come to understand years later.

[amiharana]

ok hi so i recently just watched kpop demon hunters and i'm getting brainworms from the music, esp the song 'free' which is the duet between rumi & jinu and oomfie crow cryiling was like What if revalink au. SO! (kpdh spoilers below the cut)

STAY WITH ME HERE. it's going to be a little bit tough to line up botw/totk with kpdh so i am going to take some creative liberties here and there bc i'm imagining rumi!link x jinu!revali. consider link, zelda, and ganondorf (like hot rehydrated young gd) as huntr/x and the champions as the saja boys. KJDHFSKJHDf considering that the name huntr/x alludes to the fact that the girls are demon hunters, we could either keep that as their name or do something like 3F/RCE because i have a master's in kpopology and i think it's a funny kpop group name. in korean, saja ("사자") means lion and in the movie they refer to the saja boys' fanbase as the "pride" so maybe the champions could just be called the Divine Beasts and the fanbase can be like the "pack" or the "pantheon" or something LOL.

thinking ab link with the sword, zelda with a bow, and ganondorf with the spear as the weapons to kill demons. if this wasn't a revalink au, it would def make more sense to make link as zoey and zelda as rumi, but idk who would be mira bc i think ganondorf would be jinu 😳 but i really like the idea of good!ganondorf and all three of them being really close 🥹🥹🥹 ALSO CONSIDER! maybe hestu as bobby AHAHAHAH. i really don't know who would be celine, because i think about that scene of rumi and celine and i'm like. who does link have a relationship like that with bc omg can you imagine half-demonized link standing in front of like. idk.., rhoam and asking him to kill him, or screaming "why won't you look at me?! why don't you love me?! ALL OF ME!!"

ALSO imagine the trio with demon marks but it's gloom 🥹 like the part of link's rauru arm in totk where it connects to his shoulder, i wish i was good at art so i could draw half-demon link with rumi's heterochromic demon eye and the gloom marks crawling up his neck or on his forehead from his hair. link with one blue eye and one red demonic eye (AND IMAGINE IT'S LIKE ZELDA'S DRAGON FORM EYE.......)

the idea of the champions being demons and something that link & zelda would naturally despise makes me kind of sad 🥹 but i think it also adds a layer of nuance and angst that could make the au a lot more interesting, like what if the champions' souls were taken by calamity ganon (aka gwi-ma) again to be turned into demons by gloomification, and then are used against the current reincarnation of the triforce trio to destroy the honmoon and take more souls, and it breaks the champions' hearts because they remember link and zelda but they don't remember the champs 🥹🥹🥹 also consider the trio all being half-demons and hiding it from each other, which contributes to each of their insecurity & fear of being found out despite outwardly declaring their hatred and goal of killing demons 💔 idk the logistics of that yet, but since link is supposed to be rumi & she's half demon + i think it would make sense if ganondorf was half-demon as well, why not make zelda half-demon as well LMAO or. maybe her n gan (who doesn't know he himself is a half-demon too yet) being betrayed at the fact link kept that he was half-demon a secret, only for gan to suddenly get his marks showing up too bc of the fear and insecurity and now zelda has her bow out and is threatening to shoot the both of them with tears in her eyes while link is sobbing and begging for them to understand and gan is shell-shocked and staring down at his arms, trying to scrub the marks away like it's just paint...

i also think the whole dynamic of the demon champions having to be evil to the triforce trio while remembering them would be so sad too. like urbosa having to be cruel or cold with zelda as if that wasn't her little bird only a thousand years ago 💔💔💔 on the bright side, imagine the champions performing 'soda pop' KJDHFKSJHDF

anyways back to revalink. i've been OBSESSED with the song 'free' (PLEASE go listen to this song, even if you don't gaf about the movie omg) and the lyrics of the duet got me imagining link who finds himself so comfortable with revali even though he's a DEMON:

Why does it feel right every time I let you in? Why does it feel like I can tell you anything?

and technically link is supposed to be a half-demon too so duh he should relate to another demon, but he feels so innately connected to revali, like they must have known each other in a past life...

We could be free, free We can't fix it if we never face it Let the past be the past 'til it's weightless

consider link getting his memories back (again) and then confronting revali about these images of revali taunting him on a wooden platform, of looking at him as calamity ganon spirals around the highest tower of hyrule castle, of revali's ghost looking at him on medli's back with an intense, hauntingly yearning gaze as link dissipiates into thin air teleporting back to rito village... i could go on and on about revalink singing 'free' together tbh 😭😭😭

i just saw a tweet today talking about the placement of rumi's star zipper at the base of her throat vs. how jinu starts wearing a star earring in his demon form after the last time rumi sees him in his human form, bc it represents how jinu stopped hearing gwima and rumi healed her voice after the 'free' duet, and i just. imagine that with revalink 🥹 maybe it could be a triangle or an arrow so it's more symbolic of revalink specifically BUT AGHHHHH. PAIN. i'm lowkey so obsessed with this movie rn and crow reignited the revalink worm in my brain by connecting them ty crow

[hypotheticalobjectshow]

My birthday's coming up next month and it seems like i'm gonna get some GOOD gifts

- Corrupt former president of our country got put in house arrest and may be arrested

- A certain country leader that may or may not look like a moldy ass cheeto having multiple previsions of dying in August, and some of them even saying he's gonna die on my birthday (best gift i could ever btw) (i'm his biggest hater here in Brazil)

- My niece being born (maybe also on my birthday, it's just sad this sister of mine committed multiple acts of embezzlement in 4 different stores, including stealing 200 thousand from my oomfie you don't know's parent's market, 6 months of this oomfie's school + theater and even from this same oomfie's grandma's meds. All to bet illegally in a popular game here (Jogo do Bicho/Animal Game) and pay off her debt with angolan loan sharks that swore to kill her off if she left home)

- All four of my friends say they're planning big stuff for me (which i'm VERY worried about considering i don't give them a lot of stuff in terms of gifts and i was just planning on a small party.) Like, in the way they say they've been planning this for MONTHS, they've designed this themselves, and asked for my opinion on LOADS of suspicious stuff. Ex: My favourite cookies in CRK and how pretty i found an Epic: Ocean Saga themed cake

I'm scared. Very much excited, but still scared

(And btw i may graduate from my english course tomorrow and get my MET certificate wish me luck hos people)

Btw, not saying it is, but August 14th (my birthday) gives me loads of safety goggles vibes, maybe because i visualise it as a steampunky date??? I dunno, but safety goggles gives August 14th for me

Aww happy birthday!

i love corrupt politicians getting what they deserve! congrats on the niece!!!! ...my condolences your sister committed fraud? congrats on passing your course! also we picked all the birthdays based on star signs that were matching the character vibes so they'll all been decided i forgot if we posted that. hope your birthday will be good!

-bee!! ^-^

[fushipurro]

Our Hopes in Death

☆ Synopsis: Nanami had many regrets in life, something that haunts him even in death. Nobara, a life taken too soon, is one such regret he wishes he could take back.

☆ Content: major character death, spoilers for shibuya incident, hurt/comfort???, grief/mourning

☆ Notes: not an x reader, but shoutout to my poopynation oomfies for making me suffer with this thought so much that i had to write it (don’t kill me please!!!)

The last thing Nanami saw before his sight turned black was Yuji’s sorrowful expression. He was yet another person ─ a child ─ Nanami failed to keep safe. It’s one of the biggest regrets he’s had in life, one that he knows now followed him to his grave when another of his students is now in front of him.

Nobara Kugisaki.

Last time he saw her, she was safe ─ alive, and in the flesh. A large part of him hopes that the apparition before him is just that, but at his heart, he knows this is the real deal.

“Sensei?” she says with confusion evident in her speech. She puts a hand on her hip, taking in what can only be described as an airport, or a mirage of such. “We’re dead, aren’t we? Why the hell are we in an airport and not some cloud in the sky.”

Nobara was never one to sugarcoat her words, something Nanami always admired about the young teen. He wished he had her confidence, her will, her everything that made her the fighter she was in life when he was her age.

Maybe Haibara would still be alive if he did something different, or the many others that slipped through his hands.

She raises a brow at his silence, but it doesn’t stop her from flopping down in the empty seat next to his own with a heavy, frustrated sigh. “That rat bastard tricked me,” she snarls, closing her eyes with clenched fists. “I would’ve had him if I was faster! Poor Itadori; I’m sure it wasn’t pretty watching me go.”

Yuji.

From her words, Nanami feels the pain of his regret more than ever before, comparable to a time before when he left the world of sorcery behind. From Gojo getting sealed, to watching Nobara and himself be killed before his eyes… that boy’s life is hell on earth.

He hopes Megumi is safe after that mystery savior from Dagon’s domain disappeared with him.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you,” he finally says, pushing off his seat to kneel before her. He looks just like how he did that last time he saw her, alongside Akari, when all three of them were alive. “I should never have left you alone. None of you children should have been in Shibuya today.”

A gentle smile appears on Nobara’s face, though her eyes read a solemn note. “It’s alright, Sensei. Like I told Itadori, I’ve had a pretty good life.”

His eyes fall from her face to his hands ─ hands that could’ve stopped or delayed the inevitable. She’s a child, she shouldn’t have had to die. He should have been more careful, maybe kept her by his side or made sure she got away.

Mahito was too much of a wildcard for anyone their age to have had to go up against.

Junpei, Nobara, countless other innocent lives, and the painful thought that Yuji is likely fighting him at this very moment. He has to believe Yuji will pull through and win, or at the very least hope Sukuna interferes like the first time around. It’s unlikely, but hope is all Nanami has right now.

“Where do we go now?” Nobara asks, standing upright again. “Does this place even have an exit?”

Outside the large glass windows, the roar of a plane can be heard taking off. Perhaps this airport is a purgatory where the options of where to go are of your own choosing, or maybe your tickets are predetermined ─ signed and ready to go whenever you board.

“There should be a directory board around here that might help,” Nanami tells her. What airport or building of this size wouldn’t have something like that? If he can’t find that, then he’ll stick with her until they find someone else.

Her eyes light up with realization, and near child-like wonder. “Ohh, good idea! I wonder if there’s any cafes or vending machines around here, like those cake ones that sing after you order from them!”

In another life, this is all Nanami would have wanted. No battles, no bloodshed, no curses ─ just children and adults, eager to enjoy all the good life has to offer.

If he does get another chance, he hopes his next life is easier even if he feels it to be a selfish thought. Maybe then he could marry the bakery girl or that one close friend from his days in school. Given the choice, he’d gladly become a parent as well, and hopefully to a daughter.

He hopes that with whatever children he may have, that he’s able to give them the best chance at life ─ one that won’t end before they’ve even lived. This time, he’ll be there to protect them, and to assure he lives a life without regret this time around.

“Why don’t we go looking then?” Nanami asks, holding out his hand to Nobara. “I won’t leave you alone, not this time.”

She graciously accepts with that same smile that seems to light up the airport sky. The two of them now walking hand in hand, like a father and his daughter. If this is all he can have in the next life, then he hopes to have this. And should he ever have that daughter he dreams of…

He would name her Nobara.

[friedclownshrimp]

Hiii gamers! As i promised yesterday, today i am here to finally do the doomsday idol cult infodump....i would like to first thank my oomfies @orangelovesyoumore and @sotogalmo for wanting to hear abt it, giggling :3

I was gonna post it directly into the post i made, but i wanted to put some tags into it since i wrote a lot and wants this to get some traction, so here we go <3

1. What the HELL is the idol doomsday cult?

The actual name for it is "Golden Flight", and it is a fictional cult that i am making right now, with my friend @chioniphilia actually making one of the people who participate in it. This cult is part of the Alien Stage universe, it started first as just the backstory of one of my ocs, but i thought it had a lot of potential, so i thought about turning it into its own thing, away from the main plot of Alien Stage (since i can't make it a completely original thing as it is really tied to the unvierse of ALSNT)

The cult is commanded by an alien that no one knows the name of, but whom is called "Father" by everyone who is a part of it, they don't make a lot of public appearances, but all the humans who are brought into the cult know about them, with them being mostly this "divine" figure that is always looming around and knowing everything they are doing. The main idea of the cult is that the universe is quickly shrinking, and that one day, there will no longer be enough space for everyone, and when this happens, aliens will first start killing their pet humans and then kill each other, however, there is a planet that will stay there until the end, and the people who live there will all live and one day live in harmony - with this including both the aliens and the humans. (i know the aliens in the alsnt universe have their own name but i forgot what it is so im just saying alien)

This harmony presented in this small group of survivors is said to be due to them all sharing "the same soul", with them all having this dream of living in a world full of peace and with no suffering in it, being seen as "divine beings" who, even if they die, will "take flight to the paradise" as they are pure.

Of course, most of these things are hidden from most people, with this community being seen as a "training place" for humans to become idols - a little like a competitor to ANAKT Garden, which i'll explain further down <3

2. Ok, if it is a cult that is all about "everyone living in harmony", why did you only say that humans partake in it?

For the people in the cult, the explanation given to the humans who are taken care of by "Father" is that they are trying to get as many humans as possible there as a way to "pay for the aliens mistakes", saying that they will help as many humans as possible survive this apocalypse since they know true pain and thus will know how to not make the same mistakes the aliens made related to how the other species are treated.

But in reality? They get humans into the cult because not only it makes no one be suspicious of them (since humans are just seen as pets, with no one really caring about their suffering or whatnot) but also because for them, it is a lot easier to convince these humans to come willingly to the cult - the situation that most of them find themselves is dire and without a lot of hope to it, so thus, "Father" knows that the promises of a new universe where they have a participation in and can leave peacefully is enough to make most of them come, or even the promise of revenge agaisnt those who wronged them.

In the end, they do have aliens in it as well, however, the human to alien ratio in the cult is very afar from one another in my head.

3. Where the part of "idol" comes from?

OK SO NOW THIS IS THE PART I LIKE THE MOST TO TALK ABOUT AND WHAT MADE ME START THIS WHOLE THING!!!

The part of "Idol" comes from the main form the cult has of putting out propaganda for it without it being obvious what they are doing: through songs, and this is done by an idol group sponsored by a corporation in the ALSNT universe called "Eden Dreams" (which is actually a shell corporation comanded by the cult), and this is where the name of the cult actually comes from, as the group is called "Golden Flight"

The group consists of 12 members in it, with each one of them having one color representing them (the colors being red, blue, cyan, green, yellow, orange, purple, pink, brown, black, white and grey) which are the only colors they can use - this is not only in their clothes, but also in their hair, eyes, makeup and so on, with most of them going through surgeries to be of the colors assigned to them. The surgeries they can go through are also to be more "marketable" to the aliens. All of the members of the group are winners of past seasons of Alien Stage.

The members of the group change over time, as every time one of the members end up dying or "disappearing", a group of people is chosen by "Father" to be trained to take the spot, which them being given placements - then, this group of people is given an intense training just like the former member did, and, when they are done, the "best one" in the group is chosen to be put in Alien Stage as their "final test" while the others stay, if this person wins, they go through the surgeries in their appearance and become the new member, if not, the next in line is sent to the next one and so it goes until one wins. The reason as to why members of the cult want to become members of this group so badly is due to the propaganda "Father" spreads, saying that all those 12 people who are in the idol group are the "purest" ones there, and they will be the ones who will take care of all the survivors when the day of the apocalypase comes. (although most members in this idol group range from the age of 15-25)

This idol group is EXTREMELY popular in the ALSNT universe, not only because of all the money the cult puts behind them, but also because the members of it are actually good at what they do, and the fact they are winners of Alien Stage make them get even more attention. Their songs normally have themes related to peace, friendship and harmony to them, spreading the ideas of the cult of "everyone having the same soul", which makes them be popular not only to aliens, but also to be seen as inspirations to other humans.

The 12 members of the cult are also the only ones who know of "Father"s true identity, as they are called their "children", and thus can interact directly with them, and the members of it call each other "brothers" and "sisters".

The training they go through is not only related to learning how to compose, sing and dance, but they are also trained to not fear death nor to have empathy towards their "enemies" (the people they go agaisnt in Alien Stage and other people who might not want to join the cult) as these people are only doing that out of "being agaisnt the universe's peace", and thus they shall be punished by dying and being sent to the limbo, to forever know they didn't take the opportunity to be in a better place. The members of the group are extremely controlled, however, they also partake in controlling the cult - since they have direct contact to "Father", they are the ones who always tell them when something happens in the cult and if one of the members is "misbehaving", which makes them be punished properly.

I don't have all members of it planned, having only made the orange one and with my friend making the red one...........So if anyone wants to make one idol for it hit me up!! ^-^

4 - How does the cult get new members in it?

1 - One of the ways they find new members (and which is also easier) is to go to the slums and other places where humans live in precary situations. When they go to these areas, the members (who are always groups of humans) take care of the people living there, giving them food, medicine and other things that they normally have trouble finding, and, after some days, when they are leaving, they ask these people to come alongside them, promising all these things and more if they go, and, as these humans do not have owners, no one really notices that they have went there.

2 - Fan meetings. One of the things the idol group does is make fan meetings, with them normally doing some for only human pets as well, in these meetings, the members analyze which pet humans seem to not have stable homes or be victims of bad owners. When this happens, they find a way to discover where this human lives, and they take them forcefully to the "paradise" without their owner knowing where they went, this or they manipulate and help this human in "getting rid" of their owner, helping them "find somewhere to hide" afterwards.

3 - The Eden Dreams program. It is a "program" made by the shell corporation mentioned before. Basically, as all members of Golden Flight are winners of Alien Stage, the cult will offer this program where they will train pet humans to become "winners" as well. If an alien pays for it, the human is taken into the cult for training (all the things an idol needs to know + the brainwashing), where they will go through it for years without any contact with their owner (as they say this will "distract them") and, when the cult deems the human as "worthy", they are sent to ALSNT - if this human dies, their owner is returned 60% of the money they invested in the program, but if the human wins, they are sent back to their owner, with the cult receiving 30% of any money the owner gets from the human's success. Also sometimes they do the same as the second way and make the human "disappear" to get them back into the cult but ykyk.

I didn't knew how to break my other thoughts from the actual infodump so im using this image..........I have some things here and there made for the cult as well but idk how to organize them here, so i'm here just to say: if you guys are interested in this idea and wanna know more about it, please send questions in my inbox or in my dms, PLEASE I LOVE TALKING ABT THIS I GEN WANT TO MAKE AN ASKBLOG FOR THE IDOL GROUP AUEUEEUEUEUE

Also again if anyone wants to make an oc for the cult feel free to do so to..................Again thank you all for reading this love yall so much <3

[almostyours]

hihihi dulce i have some questions because kaias solo got me putting my thinking cap on 🎩🎩 i always thought yvan was going to go solo first so why did you choose kaia? and she did nothing wrong !!!!!! but it seems that she's a little too happy after wht she did ..... does kaia regret killing nari?

hi friend!  i love this question sm actually  😩  

u mentioning yvan is funny because they were never supposed to be the first one going solo!  it just makes their ig handle noyvansolo funnier to me ngl…  😭  originally,  poppy was supposed to be the first going solo since it made sense with the initial narrative oomfie and i had planned,  but as some may know,  i’ve been rewriting and changing many things about the group  /  the characters  /  their concept since i’ve been crazy about the whole  their lore is just them,  just dramatized  thing that i have going on for them.  this made me realize that she was actually the least likely to release something,  so i scrapped that out.  

for a while,  i was fine with the idea of hiraeth just going on hiatus while the sillies did their own thing,  but TO ME kaia has always been the one built for solo success even if she has always been against that idea  🤷  she was already a pop sensation before hiraeth,  anyway,  so it just made sense.

wait.  let me put this under a read more because yk how much i like to yap!

kaia doesn’t regret killing nari.  she was a horrible person who constantly belittled and abused her and the people kaia loved.  keeping her around would’ve only caused more harm,  and in kaia’s mind,  getting rid of her was necessary.  there’s a part of her that fully believes that it had to happen.  hiraeth is successful,  loved,  and thriving,  and nari’s absence was the price for that.

but at the same time,  she does regret it.  she’s a human,  after all,  and she knows that what she did was unforgivable.  she quite literally played a god that night,  deciding who gets to live and who doesn’t,  and who is she to do that?  🤔  no matter how calm and put-together she seems,  the paranoia and guilt never leaves her.  more than anything,  she regrets pulling yvan and poppy into something they can’t escape from.  like,  if u squint ur eyes,  u could say that nari was sacrificed for their success,  and now they’re trapped in a perfect cycle that kaia’s choices forced them into unless they want everything they’ve done to crumble.

and yes,  the girls are successful!   but it came at a cost.  they didn’t just sacrifice a person,  they sacrificed their peace of mind,  their lives,  their careers,  and their future.  kaia feels it the most when she talks to poppy,  who doesn’t enjoy being an idol anymore,  but is stuck because she’s emotionally bonded with kaia and yvan.

don’t take this literally because this is not meant to be taken literally,  but to me,  hiraeth feels like the closest thing to selling their soul for fame.  they were doomed to fail until kaia,  in a moment of pure impulse and anger,  did what she thought needed to be done.  and yea,  they got exactly what they wanted at the time,  but was it really what they wanted?  their debut,  their rise,  their fame,  literally all of it was built on something they can’t undo,  and now they’re trapped in this cycle of perfection because one wrong move and it’s all over. 

they might seem like they are happy and enjoy it all,  but are they,  rlly? 

[timeregistry]

actually what is sebastian going to think when he finds out we're ROMANCING THE COMPUTER

THIS SET OF ASKS ACTUALLY KILLED ME SO BAD LISTEN WE ARENT REALLY LIKE DOING A LOT TO HIDE IT SEBASTIANS PROBABLY LIKE oh my god this guy's a freak 😒 why is that my bestie, my god forbid oomfie

non-canon ending to the fic and it's just mc kissing painter's flat screen and Sebastian just watching from the distance like ? if it was in December Sebastian would have probably put a mistletoe before Painter and mc got together to make them kiss, him suddenly doing the wedding vows when you and Painter are close to each other... too many hcs about matchmaker Sebastian that won't make it to the fic I CANT

[embrapple]

oomfie questiooon about tenn 👀👀👀👀 what if. hypothetically speaking of course. he would kiss you. rn. what then. 👀👀👀

i would kill him

[theweaselofalcatraz]

💫 Ooohhh Oomfie Arlingtonnn!! I want to know what exactly your favourite thing about your favourite character from COD is!! I want to see all the yap, all the passion, so go all in!! ✨

You asked the wrong person *evil laugh*

Since Richtofen is such a massive fan favorite, We'll go into depth for my second favorite, Weasel (username says it all). I think what attracts me toward so many characters is their personality! As we all know, Weasel is bullied quite a bit (ahem, killed) and he is just lonely and depressed and on top of it all, are the zombies. In prison.

Weasel is my second favorite because I can relate to parts of him. I can feel what he is feeling. His story emits a specific melody that catches my ears like a Linkin Park song. I don't know how to exactly explain it but it is like hearing colors for me, smelling the landscape after a fresh mow of the grass and the after rain.

To put this in the lamest terms possible: I need to squish him like playdoh. I love him so much

Thanks for this ask, Oomfie Joon!💫💥

[outtox1cated]

A little while ago, i had a dream about going to the theaters with my friends to watch 'Ultrakill: The Movie', directed and written by... Adam Sandler.? I can't recall exactly what happened in it but god it was an absolute fever dream and i ironically wish it was real (funnily enough Adam sandler didn't even show up at all, i just knew that he made the movie. or my friends said so. idk anymore)

The movie was basically about V1 going to Hell to gather up like all of the characters in Ultrakill to defeat this random supervillain who wants to destroy Earth because humanity wasn't extinct yet somehow and this guy is just.. tired of everything and he just popped out of nowhere to kill everyone? the majority of the things that happened is V1 just hanging out in Hell and later on Earth with its squad (V2, Gabriel, Minos, Ferryman, Sisyphus and this guy*? who the hell is this???)

^ *this is how the The Guy in question looked like. literally where did you come from

Nobody was bothered by the fact that they looked.. uh. a "little" different compared to humans so they could do anything without a problem (aside from, y'know. murder), until the supervillain showed up and revealed himself to be Jimmy Motherfucking Neutron. After a 15 minute long fight scene, Jimmy won against all of them SOMEHOW and was about to crush V2's head with his bare fucking hands, but Mirage appeared out of nowehere, pulled out a laser weapon from the area (she would probably do that but girl what the fuck how dare you jumpscaring me like that) and penis blasted Jimmy to death.

Next thing i remember there was a time skip and the squad was doing their own things at a house and everyone was doing perfectly fine (except The Guy i guess) despite being beaten up by a 10 year old who gained godly powers out of nowhere. and if you thought this wouldn't get any more unhinged, i'm so sorry but this is the worst (and best) part- Mirage and V2 was looking at @canon-gabriel-quotes's blog and was listening to an audio on max volume of V1 repeatedly making metal pipe sounds while Gabe is quietly whimpering, then shouted "OH FUCK YES, I'M FINALLY REACHED MYULTIMADE OOMFIE FORM" (??????). everyone in the room looked at Gabe in confusion and disgust at the same time, then tried to figure out if him and V1 actually did it or it is Gianni being a little silly again because Gabe just couldn't say a thing. suddenly, the two started making out without a warning, then everything morphed into a painting that looked like something Salvador Dalí would make andddddd end credits roll... but the image of V1 and Gabriel making out was in the background for the whole time until the film ended. everyone in the theater was sobbing their eyes out, except me and my buddies who were silently sitting in our seats, trying to process what the fuck did we just watch.

then i woke up to a stomach ache

so yeah i think i need to see a therapist very urgently-