#*shoves source material aside*

[scxmsc]

h. hey tumblr.

Gravity Falls screenshot redraw or something

Idk why but this is one of my favourite scenes in the show icl

og + a little older doodles down there because I have a found family problem paired with a bill cipher hyperfixation!! ⬇️

[a-leg-without-fear]

Sweet

sin sin sin sIN SIN THIS IS SIN. please enjoy pleasuring our dear college!matt

Ship: Matt Murdock x Female!Reader

Rating: 18+ (pure filth, truly)

Wordcount: 2.7k

Warnings: smut, sexual situations, foreplay, some depressive thoughts (because i apparently can't write anything without them)

Warm.

Soft, warm, gentle, sweet. Sweeter than anything he’d tasted. Like dew that’s been licked off a cold strawberry, or the fragrant scent that wafts through the air outside of flower shops. A delicate and tender sweetness. Subtle, comforting, like the smell of home after being away for years. Such sweetness could make Matt lose himself, letting himself drift away on a current of fond smiles and warm embraces. He would allow himself to drown in the sweet taste, even if it was the last drop to pass his lips before he drifted to the ocean floor.

At the sudden loss of the warmth, the tenderness, the sweetness, Matt’s throat let out a whine of annoyance. His body moved of its own accord as he scrambled to reconnect himself to the source. Fingers tangling in silken hair. Hand bunching in a tank top. Teeth nipping at a plump, pink lower lip.

“Matt,” you sighed. The words cascaded past Matt’s tongue and down his throat, carrying a breeze filled with cherry blossoms in their wake. He could distantly feel delicate fingertips brush at his jaw. A tingling warmth trailed behind the gentle touch, only fueling his need to swallow as much sweetness as he could.

“Matt, honey. Breathe.”

Matt’s eyes fell open as he pulled away from his brief reprieve. His senses came crashing down like a cave in. All he could see was a haze of swirling oranges and reds that filled every inch in sight. Streaks of flame and blood painting the college dorm room like a canvas on fire. His cotton shirt was too tight, too scratchy. The humid air settled in his pores like an unwelcome visitor. A sudden cacophony of noise spilled into his ears through the crack under the door and the thin material of the walls. He blinked a few times to reorient. 

The first inhale he allowed himself felt like a punch in the lungs. Gone was the taste of strawberries or cherry blossoms, the feeling of warmth and comfort. A sharp tang of stale alcohol plunged its way into his sinuses and left him reeling. Notes of old, worn carpet and water-damaged ceilings shoved their way through to stand side by side to overwhelm thought and feeling. Matt screwed his eyes shut, trying to recall the smell of flowers that flowed like water down his throat.

“Hey, I’m right here,” you whispered, your melodic voice brushing aside the sounds assaulting Matt’s senses. Your soft hand rested along his jaw and brought his forehead to yours. Matt could feel your breath fan across his face. Warm and gentle and sweet.

“I… I’m sorry,” Matt said. He felt naïve. The world was harsh and cold and unforgiving. He shouldn’t have let himself get carried away by the allure you unintentionally provided. The sweet ambrosia that flowed from your lips could never compete with the torrential downpour of too much all around him.

“Sorry for what?” you asked. Your fingers brushed strands of Matt’s dark hair away from his face, then trailed their way down his cheek to rest on his collarbone. 

Matt opened his eyes again in a desperate attempt to see you. See anything. But all he was met with was the clouded reds and oranges that submerged the world beneath a pool of blood. 

He tried to focus on where your face would be, using the brush of air currents along your seated body to understand where you were on the bed. Your head was cocked, hair falling in front of your kind eyes. Matt could tell you were looking at him. From the way your heart calmly beat behind your ribs and the pheromones that surrounded you like an aura, Matt assumed you were happy. Content.

“I got caught up in the moment,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. You chuckled at his bashfulness, the sound ringing like a small bell around Matt’s head. Hopefully he could deflect from his lapse in awareness. Of course he had to be blind and easily distracted.

“That’s not a bad thing, you know. Just gotta remember to breathe,” you said. Matt scoffed playfully at the jab. He let his hands drift down to your waist, tucking his fingers beneath the bunched-up hem of your shirt.

“I don’t know, you seem to like it when I prevent you from breathing.”

Your breath caught in your throat as your heart leapt and your face heated. A flash of the intoxicating scent that was distinctly you floated from between your legs. Matt could feel his own arousal swirling like a whirlpool in his stomach. An uncontrollable tempest begging to be released over calm waters. Despite how desperately he wanted your clothes off and you beneath him, he pulled his mouth into a cocky grin while his fingers worked their way up to your bra.

“What’s wrong? Feeling embarrassed? Or are you just remembering how good it felt when I choked you?” he purred.

That got you riled up. Your chest started heaving as your skin grew hot and clammy over your entire body. A fresh wave of wetness and delicious scent warmed the inside of your thighs. You swallowed heavily and Matt could practically feel the way the muscles in your throat moved.

But you hesitated. Your fingers stopped their soft stroking along his sensitive skin. Your breath halted just behind your soft lips. Matt’s brow furrowed as a frown tugged at the edges of his lips.

“You okay?” he asked warily. Matt forced his hands to cease in their uphill climb and placed them on your hips. Anxiety gripped at his chest. Did he misread the situation? Misread you? Did he make you uncomfortable? God, what if you finally realized you’d made a mistake in dating him? It was bound to happen, sooner or later.

“Can I be on top tonight?” you asked, as though that sentence didn’t hit him like a ton of bricks to the stomach.

“W-What?” Matt spluttered.

“These past few times you’ve been making me feel good. Really good. I want to try to return the favor,” you explained. Your nails began to pick at a stray thread on Matt’s shirt collar. Matt’s ears picked up on the uptick in your pulse. Were you… nervous?

“If you don’t want to, that's fine, you can be on top. We can also just kiss if that’s more what you’re feeling today. I don’t want to make you feel weird and-”

“Sweetheart, slow down,” Matt said, interrupting your fast-paced tangent. Your mouth clamped shut as a deep breath filled your lungs. Matt grabbed loosely at your shoulders, thumbs rubbing back and forth on your bare skin, as an easy smile fell over his face.

He gave you a few seconds to catch your breath then said, “You can be on top. I just wasn’t expecting you to ask.”

In all honesty, he wasn’t expecting you to ask. Matt’s life was a never ending learning curve of discovering that love was not guaranteed. His mother left before he was a year old, his father died when he was nine, his mentor, Stick, abandoned him at the first sign of affection. He learned long ago to not expect anything from anyone. That was the first lesson Stick had taught him. 

And yet, against all odds, here you sat. An enigma if ever there was one. Offering your affection on a silver platter at Matt’s feet. A clear sign of trust, of devotion, of love.

“Okay,” you said. A relieved smile broke out across your face. You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you cleared your throat. Matt’s heart raced in time with yours. His fingers began kneading in the soft flesh at your hips.

“Lie down for me,” you said. Four words, spoken softly with the gentleness of a feather, yet they struck Matt in the chest like a wide haymaker. A sentence that carried the weight of authority and a gentle caress all in one. Suddenly all he wanted to do was follow instructions.

In a flash he had his head on the pillow, arms at his sides, breathing at an alarmingly fast rate. Anticipation burned its way through his veins and clouded his senses. The world outside the dorm room faded away. Like a memory retreating into a dense fog. Loud voices down the hall quieted into nothing, the humidity in the air evaporated, his shirt felt like the softest silk, and the scent around him. God, all he could smell was you. Your breath was like the first day of spring, your skin like rolling hills of green grass, your hair like soft strands of pure sunlight. Matt’s world was, yet again, sweet.

“Let me know if I’m making you uncomfortable,” you breathed, your lips suddenly brushing against his earlobe. Matt would have jumped had he not been so relaxed beneath your comforting presence. Your sense of calm had washed over him like a warm wave at low tide. 

“I will,” Matt replied, having to use what remained of his mind to form two coherent words. A soft hum of acknowledgement rustled the baby hairs by his ear. He had just enough awareness to track you as you pressed a soft kiss under his jaw. 

A sigh escaped his lips as he tilted his head back against the pillow. You smiled against his skin, rewarding the accommodation by pressing a firmer kiss into the soft skin beneath his ear. Tendrils of goodgoodgood shocked their way through his veins from where your lips connected to the sensitive skin. His breath hitched as he let his eyes fall closed.

“Good spot, I take it,” you said through a smile Matt could hear. Matt barely got out the word “yes” before you licked a broad swipe up his neck and ended at that sensitive spot. Matt’s back arched as a groan kicked its way out of his throat. His hands fisted into your tank top out of pure instinct, practically begging the source of his pleasure to stay put. Another pass of your tongue stoked the embers in his abdomen into a bonfire, flames licking their way over his damp skin.

“Sweetheart, please,” Matt begged, the words a whisper on his parted lips. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was begging for. All he knew was he never wanted you to stop. 

Blunt fingernails traced the exposed skin beneath his shirt. Matt’s hips bucked up, chasing the light touch. The muscles beneath his skin jumped as you slowly, so slowly, started pushing his shirt up. It was agonizing, the feeling of your nails lightly scraping along his stomach. Each finger lit up thousands of nerve endings, each nerve ending pushing him further and further toward the edge of a steep cliff.

You pressed a soft kiss to the shell of Matt’s ear as you whispered, “Arms up, Matt.”

You could tell him to kneel at your feet for the rest of his life and he would.

Matt did the best his melted body could to help you take his shirt off. The two of you were a mess of limbs and cotton for a moment before you were able to pull the infernal garment away. Matt’s arms fell beside him like two sacks of grain. Palms as soft as calfskin ever so gently glided down his bare chest. You made sure every divot and round muscle got the attention it deserved, caressing Matt like he was the finest lace. When your pinky brushed against his nipple, a sharp hiss escaped through his teeth.

You hummed, hands retreating in their path, fingers dancing along the edges of Matt’s nipples. Matt choked out a moan, baring his neck as his back arched into your touch. Your tongue made another pass of his throat as feather-light glances of your fingers across both of his nipples chased the last coherent thoughts from Matt’s mind.

“Fuck,” Matt groaned. Every millimeter of his skin felt like it was aflame. Fire left in the wake of your gentle touch. Burning away all sense and reason until all that was left was Matt’s writhing body.

He was close. Embarrassingly so. Matt clung to the cliff’s edge by his fingertips, each kiss and caress prying his fingers off one by one. His hips moved of their own volition. He was bucking into your thigh like a dog in heat. Whines and moans flew from his glistening lips while his hands scrabbled against the sheets.

With your hands still toying at Matt’s chest, you shifted in his lap until the warm heat between your thighs settled over where his shorts had tented. A slurred string of curses and your name spilled from between his teeth. His wild grinding now dispersed your scent in the air around him. And God, there was so much. It settled into every inch of Matt’s skin until he could taste it on his tongue, feel it coat his lungs as he breathed it in.

“Sw-eetheart,” Matt choked out. He could feel his fingers falling away from the cliff in rapid succession. The precipice below him seemed to climb up the cliffside until it was just beneath his feet, tempting him to let go and plunge into its depths.

The final nail in his coffin was when you nipped at his neck, teeth closing around where his pulse flowed strongest. The air in his lungs leapt through his throat in one big gust. His unseeing eyes rolled back in his head, hands grabbing at anything in their vicinity. 

Matt’s final grip on the cliff fell away, plunging him into warmth and gentleness and sweetness that surrounded him like a strong embrace. Held him tight and wove its way through every muscle in his body. A shock of white hot pleasure rolled through him like a steam train. Starting in his groin and washing over him in wave after wave of fuckyesgoodfuckkeepgoingdon’tstop. He could barely register how loud he was over the roaring in his ears. His heart pounded against his chest like an animal behind bars.

Your lips found his again and everything clicked into place. Matt lapped at your mouth like he was drinking his first glass after a month in the desert. The sweet nectar that you produced flowed down his throat and prolonged his orgasm. His hips rocked up into yours, chasing a heat that he could feel in his bones. Hands, trembling, bunched themselves in your shirt and pulled your chest flush to his.

It took several minutes for the aftershocks to calm down. Every breath, every twitching muscle made his overwhelmed senses go haywire. In his mind, the world around him was a swirling cloud of bliss. All he could hear was your breathing, all he could feel was your heartbeat against his chest, all he could taste was strawberries and cherry blossoms. He let his fingertips trail along your exposed shoulders, zeroing in on the feeling, bringing himself back to reality.

When you felt the movement, you lifted your head to look at him, “Back with us?”

A tired smile spread itself over his lips. Matt opened his eyes, the effort to lift his eyelids like lifting a dumbbell, and let his empty gaze land somewhere on your face.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he sighed. You responded by giving him a quick peck on the lips. Matt grumbled, brow furrowing, then guided your chin back up to kiss him again. You chuckled against his lips, a whisper of “ridiculous man” absorbed between your mouths. Matt relished in the familiar sweetness before letting you pull away.

“I take it you enjoyed that?” you asked. Matt gave you a solemn nod, at which you laughed. He shifted beneath you so he could attempt to meet your eyes.

“Did you like it?” he asked tentatively. He fiddled with the hem of your shirt as he waited for your answer. He hadn’t done anything for you, he just laid there and made you do all the work. What kind of boyfriend was he? Not to mention you didn’t even touch him. A few grazes of your fingers over his chest and he was done for.

“I loved it. It was fun to figure out what buttons to push,” you laughed. The tinkling tune of your laugh erased any negative thoughts Matt retained about the experience. He let his smile return, holding you tighter to his chest.

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll return the favor,” Matt said, letting that seductive edge find its way back into his voice. You shuddered on top of him. Your thighs clenched instinctively around his. You blew a stray strand of hair out of your face, attempting to mask the want clearly written on your skin.

“3 minutes, then we’re back in business.”

“Deal.”

HUGE thanks to the Murdock Tuna Team for being the inspiration for this fic. i have them to blame for the filth that fills my head on an hourly basis.

Murdock Tuna Team 🐟: @vigilxnte-shit @pastafossa @yarrystyleeza @ecxlipse @sunflowersandsapphires @amphitrite-5 @fuckyeahpommelstrike @mar-thewriter @zomtart @what-i-call-men

[pomefioredove]

if you're still taking requests for the event could i request floyd with "Maybe we should just kiss to break the tension" ? ty !

hehe ofc ofc!

summary: "maybe we should just kiss to break the tension" type of post: fic characters: floyd additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, pre book 3, kissing, yuu is very much canon yuu here lol a part of this event

Riddle's noble efforts to warn you about Floyd Leech had fallen on deaf ears.

"And stay out of trouble!" were his exact words, if you remembered correctly.

You'd almost scoffed.

You had already been at NRC for months; you'd fought monsters, solved mysteries, and come out of all of it in one piece.

You could handle a history of magic project.

Sure, this is your first mixed-year assignment; and yes, the project itself makes up a great portion of your semester grade...

...but if anyone had asked you, you'd say that a measly school presentation is nothing compared to what you've already been through.

"Remember not to play along with his antics; it only encourages him,"

Riddle had wasted no time lecturing you about your mysterious project partner the second his name left your lips.

You'd come to him to ask if he knew the guy, not his entire life story.

"Stay focused... and stay out of trouble!"

Trouble. Ha. Every second at NRC since you'd arrived had been trouble.

You walk into the library; like usual, it's mostly empty.

Floyd Leech, Floyd Leech... now, where would...?

"Hey, you!"

You turn on your heels to face the source of the shout; leaning against a bookshelf behind you is the tallest boy you've ever seen.

He even gives off the vague impression of towering over you, making you feel small regardless...

"Man, I almost didn't see 'ya, you're so tiny," he grins, baring a row of sharp teeth. "I'm gonna call you Shrimpy. Now, come onnn, I've been waiting forever!"

You're early. Before you can say as much, he grabs you by the forearm and drags you off to a table.

"Alright, Shrimpy," he says, taking a seat across from you. "What's on the docket for today?"

"Uhh..." you're still slightly dazed. He's got some energy, that's for sure.

Riddle's words flash through your mind.

"...Well, I was thinking we could find our material first, then outline..."

"Reading?" Floyd asks, slumping in his seat as if he'd just received terrible news.

You blink. "...Well, we're going to have to read a little,"

He groans, loudly. A few people in the library turn to stare before awkwardly shuffling away.

"...Nah, I'm not in the mood. Let me do 'somethin else,"

What had Riddle said yesterday? "He changes his mind at the drop of a hat. Arguing is no good,"

"...Okay," you say, tentatively reading his expression. "I'll start with the outline. Do you want to look for pictures instead?"

He's quiet, as if seriously considering the pros and cons of the offer, and then he shrugs.

You sigh. Riddle was just being overdramatic. This is fine!

Floyd becomes lost in his assigned job, leafing through an atlas in search of a map from the time period you're researching, leaving you to your reading.

It'd be an easier job with two people, but...

"You're real quiet, Shrimpy,"

You look up from your encyclopedia. He'd shoved the atlas aside, his eyes fixed on you instead.

You raise an eyebrow. "I'm reading...?"

"Aw. Don't tell me you're the serious type?" a loud, dramatic sigh follows. "I was hoping we could have some fun. I was really looking forward to meeting you and all..."

You have to remind yourself that you have a reputation here. Great...

"Well, sorry to disappoint, but I'm a pretty boring person. Normal,"

Floyd's brow furrows. "Nah, I don't buy that. You wanna know what I think?"

You don't like this. The way he's looking at you, like he sees something you don't...

"...I think you only act normal 'cause you're afraid of being judged. You try way too hard to be a good student and stuff 'cause you wanna fit in here,"

Ouch. You blink, momentarily stunned to silence. He could tell all that just from watching you read?

"I'm just 'sayin," he gives you another sharp smile. "I wouldn't mind if you stopped acting all serious around me. You're way too tense."

"...Tense? I am not tense,"

Your denial only encourages him. A wide grin creeps across his face.

"Yeah, you know. You could feel the stress in this place from a mile away...

...Maybe we should just kiss to break the tension,"

Riddle had drilled you for hours; Floyd stealing your things, making you chase him, getting bored and leaving, a thousand possible situations that could come out of a simple study session...

...This was not one of them.

Floyd grins again, wider this time. "Ahah, never mind. You're way too boring and normal for something like that, right?"

You suddenly feel hot; he's putting you on the spot, and he knows it. He seems to be living for your agitation.

"Hey, that's not fair-"

"Fair schmair," he cuts in. "I gave you a dare, and you can't do it. Happens all the time to you, I bet. It's-"

Riddle had warned you, several times, quite clearly, not to play along.

But... in your defense...

Floyd giggles against your lips, the delighted little noise giving away a hint of surprise. His hands, cold and clammy but nice nonetheless, grab hold of your face, drawing you closer into the kiss. He's threatening to pull you across the table at this point...

...It's a good thing you chose a time when the library would be empty.

After a minute or two, he lets go, leaving you breathless with another smile.

"I knew you had it in 'ya," he says, reaching across the table to pull the encyclopedia back towards him.

"My turn to read, okay? I was getting bored of the pictures,"

[piratefishmama]

Fake it ‘Till you make it | Part 15

If asked to describe how warm the Harrington house made him feel, Eddie would probably describe it as dipping his backside in an ice bath, balls, and all.

The Harrington Chalet… was like being wrapped up in a warm blanket on the comfiest of sofas, in front of a cosy fire, with a mug of just right hot cocoa placed in your hands, snuggled up against a broad chest, the kind of warmth that only comes from true comfort, a warmth that only comes from belonging.

It was all natural colours, warm browns lit by warm white lamplight. Where the Harrington house had white walls and dark tiled floors without a speck of dust to be seen, the chalet had natural wooden walls, and beautiful dark oak wood flooring, thick wooden beams running across the ceiling.

The only modern thing about it being the floor to ceiling windows that took up the far wall of the living room, which looked out towards the lake not far away. Every material used to build it aside from the glass windows, looked like it was sourced directly from its surroundings, like whatever they’d felled to make room for the chalet, was put into building it.

Eddie wanted to stay there.

He’d only set one foot into the main living room after lugging those bags from the car, bags now at his feet, guitar propped up against the wall, he’d only stopped a moment to take it all in, and decided there and then that this… this was where he wanted to be. It couldn’t be further from the place he’d grown up, yet he longed for it all the same.

And then he felt hands, flattened, sliding around his waist from his hip upwards beneath his shirt to settle atop his stomach, another around the other side, higher from his chest upwards across collar bone and lingering there, a hot breath on the other side of his neck, the warm, broad expanse of Steve Harrington’s chest against his back and his lips just lightly brushed against the side of his neck. If Steve wasn’t currently holding him up he might actually have crumpled.

How did people exist around Steve Harrington and not just spontaneously combust?

He felt aflame, Steve wrapped around him, holding him steady, thrown directly into the deep end even though he’d had hours upon hours to prepare himself for it, how did someone prepare to suddenly be at the very centre of Steve Harrington’s attention at the top of his game? Especially when that someone had never really experienced any game directed at them.

“Keep it in your pants Steven we haven’t even unpacked.” And there went all that tension, built with actions alone, gone with an exasperated comment from Steve’s mother as she shoved one of the heavier of her bags forwards with her foot.

“I cannot be held responsible for my actions when my boyfriend looks this beautiful.” Oh. He was expecting something juvenile, not something that was going to make his heart do a funny little flip flop. He’d never been called beautiful before.

He’d heard a few similar things in bars, but those things were always backed by lewd intent, genuinely having heard ‘you got a pretty mouth, boy’ on one such excursion. Never beautiful. Never something that gave him butterflies. Made him feel special.

“Yes, he’s very pretty, now let him go and go help your father with his bags. Eddie would you be a dear and help me with mine? This one is a little heavy.” He didn’t want Steve to let go, honestly he felt like his legs might actually give out if Steve let go so in the interest of his own balance, he just latched himself onto Steve’s arms to prevent him from letting go.

“Uhhhh… can we just, leave them in here for a bit while we uh… pick rooms? Because uhm… I don’t have a good excuse.” Steve snorted a laugh so close to his ear it actually made him laugh a little himself, he even got a nice little squeeze from Steve’s arms which felt lovely. “But I’d just really like if Steve didn’t move.”

Lynda just looked at them both with that knowing smile of hers, a single perfectly arched eyebrow raised in sly amusement. “Very well, the heavy ones stay here. Steven remember we will want to use the hot tub so do not pick that room.” And she was off after her husband, leaving the two heavier of her bags in the entryway to be moved later.

Eddie turned his head to look at Steve with a small curious frown in silent question “There’s a room on the first floor, it’s technically the guest master bedroom, it has a patio door that leads to the hot tub on the wrap around. Like directly to it, if we pick that room there’s a strong chance of us witnessing terrible horrible things. Nobody ever picks that room.” It was great if you were alone in the house, or if it was just you and a special someone, then you could pick it, but… other company would ultimately either see your business, or you’d see theirs.

Not a fun time.

“Sounds like you’ve had a terrible experience.”

“I repeat, terrible, horrible things. C’mon Bambi, let’s get settled in.”

“Where’d that come from?” He asked, just before Steve could let go, sure Steve’s arms relaxed a little in their grip, allowing Eddie to move a little, test his balance to find it was actually fine, that his legs hadn’t mysteriously transmuted into jello, he didn’t pull away through, instead he turned in Steve’s arms, just to look at him “The Bambi thing, where’d that come from?” It was the third time Steve had called him that, the first on the plane, second in the car… and now—

“Your eyes, man… those big beautiful brown eyes of yours, you’ve got eyes like Bambi. Has no-one ever… called you that before?” Steve stepped backwards, he removed his arms, instead placing his hands on Eddie’s arms, just holding him, looking at him, seeing him.

“Uh…no no, most I get is freak, fag, or… that I have a nice mouth?” Eddie didn’t expect the pained expression on his faux boyfriends face, no matter how brief it was. “It’s okay, like… you expect the insults I guess… we live in a small-minded shithole, and I never deny the rumours so it’s not like it’s not expected. And the places where it’s okay for us to be, well… they kind of expect a certain level of experience or they expect you to want them too when you go there an well…” Eddie didn’t have that experience.

An he didn’t feel very comfortable leaving it up to a total stranger to guide him through gaining experience. Especially with how dangerous that was right now.

Besides the danger though, what if it sucked? He didn’t want it to suck, why did that have to be the be all and end all of first queer sexual experiences? Why couldn’t it be good? Why couldn’t he have his toes sufficiently curled?

“I wish I knew what to say to make it okay...” Robin would know what to say. Steve had barely dipped his toes into what he enjoyed, into who he was beneath the performative nonsense of his past.

Steve was just… Steve, and Steve rarely really knew what to say.

“Don’t worry about it big boy, you calling me beautiful just made my year, I will treasure it always, it will feed my ego for years to come so you don’t have to say anything else. Now let’s go pick a room” Just to make sure Steve knew it was okay, Eddie leaned forward and planted a kiss atop those two cute moles on Steve’s cheek, grabbed his guitar case, then offered his other hand. “Wanna show me around?”

“Yeah…” Steve breathed, an almost dopey smile on his face as he took Eddie’s hand “yeah okay, let’s do that, rooms are this way, but first, uhm... Bambi's okay right?”

"Yeah, Stevie... Bambi's okay."

Part 17

[noassparetime]

RUN BABY RUN . ( leon kennedy x f﹗ reader ) PART TWO ﹗

DISCLAIMER: THIS FIC IS DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT .

IVE ALSO NEVER WRITTEN SMTH WITH MORE THAN ONE PART BARE WITH ME﹐ I ' M NERVY

enjoy ❤️

CONTENT WARNINGS : stalking﹗ breaking and entering﹗ DUBCON ₍ pls this isnt a joke ₎ ﹐ oral sex ₍ f receiving ₎ ﹐ p in v penetration﹐somnophilia﹐ KNIFE PLAY .

some of the content within this chapter may be disturbing to some audiences﹐ reader discretion is advised . PART 1 HERE 1270 words no proofread

CREDIT : gif credit to me lmao

GIF SOURCE : HYDRAFXX on twitter

FILTER BY 161FR0ST on twitter

AS USUAL﹐ NO MINORS UNDER THE LINE PLS AND THANK U

------------------------

there she was﹐ my little dove . so innocent﹐ so peaceful . she was absolutely fucking oblivious to the fact that i am in her house right now﹐ watching her live like this was some kind of twisted reality show﹐ except﹐ she didn ' t know about the cameras .

she ' s sat on a rocking chair﹐ watching some sitcom on tv . she ' d giggle to herself occasionally﹐ my heart fluttering at the sweet﹐ sweet sound of my little dove ' s joy . soon enough﹐ [ Y / N ] made her way upstairs﹐ her robe hitting the floor﹐ revealing her perfect tits﹐ the only think keeping her somewhat modest being her flimsy lace panties . she got in bed﹐ her eyes glued to her phone as i watched from the small crack between the closet doors . she really has no situational awareness or any sense of danger﹐ does she﹖ it doesn ' t matter﹐ i ' ll teach her all of that soon enough .

as soon as i was sure she was asleep﹐ i stepped out from my front row seat to the show . i walked towards her﹐ she smells just as good as she did before . i slipped the covers off her body .

sweet fucking jesus .

she ' s perfection laced in ecstasy﹐ wrapped in a pretty pink bow just for me . leaning down﹐ making sure the mattress didn ' t dip too much﹐ my hands grazed her thighs﹐ her legs falling open almost instantly . she ' s fucking captivating . i settled on my stomach﹐ my lips gently met the skin just below her belly button as i kissed my way down . goosebumps followed my trail﹐ spreading down her skin as she arched her back slightly . i couldn ' t help but grin as i felt her react to my touch . my poor little dove ' s body is betraying her .

my lips trailed downward﹐ kissing her slit through the thin piece of material . fuck﹐ it wasn ' t long before i was intoxicated﹐ drunk on her from just a taste . my tongue darted out of my mouth﹐ licking a stripe from her entrance to her clit . her body jerked﹐ my eyes shot towards her﹐ making sure she was still asleep . my little dove needs to enjoy this . i placed my knife on the bed next to me﹐ just in case she tried something stupid .

i hooked a finger on the material as i pushed her panties aside﹐ i was in awe as i stared at her perfect cunt﹐ glistening wet﹐ and begging to be worshipped . fuck it . i shoved my face into her﹐ my lips latching onto her clit as i sucked﹐ hard . her hips jerked in response﹐ her eyes shooting open . shock coursed through her tiny frame﹐ her hands pushed my face away﹐ i happily obliged﹐ taking a step back . she shot up﹐ pushing her body back . disbelief painted her features﹐ her beautiful face pale .

❛ shh . . . ❜ i cooed﹐ picking up my knife from the bed . her taste still on my tongue﹐ a smile forming on my lips . i crawled onto the bed﹐ my cock straining against my jeans .

❛ come on now﹐ little dove﹐ don ' t make me use this . ❜ i held up my knife﹐ the blade glinting in the moonlight . i sat down next to her﹐ running my fingers down her shaking face .

her mouth opened slightly﹐ her words caught in her throat . my hand met her arm﹐ pulling her body over mine﹐ her legs on either side of my hips . her poor frame shook as i raised the blunt side of my knife to her throat . i could see a tear slip down her already flushed cheek .

❛ unbutton my jeans﹐ angel . ❜ i spoke﹐ adrenaline coursing through my body as i stared at her .

shy hands moved down my body as she closed her eyes﹐ her fingertips sending shockwaves up my body as they grazed the skin just above my waistline . i sucked in a breath﹐ biting back a moan . the sound of my zipper sliding down filled the room﹐ my jaw clenching as she took the initiative to pull my cock from my underwear .

❛ such a good fucking girl . ❜ i cooed as i watched her﹐ her thighs clenching against my body . my words had an effect on her﹐ i know they do . she can ' t lie when her body reacts like this . ❛ ride it . ❜ i continued﹐ my tone authoritative . her eyes widened for a second﹐ her mouth falling open once again . she didn ' t say anything﹐ instead﹐ she aligned my tip with her entrance﹐ her eyes squeezing shut as she sunk down . i heard a whimper tumble from her lips as her cunt hugged my cock so tight﹐ practically sucking me in .

a deep groan snuck up my throat as she sat﹐ adjusting . i couldn ' t believe this was finally happening﹐ i was balls deep in the woman i loved﹐ the woman i craved so deeply .

❛ that ' s it baby . ❜ i cooed softly﹐ ❛ all of it﹐ like a good - ah﹐ fuck - like a good girl . . . ❜ my breathing was quick and shallow﹐ matching hers as my other hand rested on her hip .

i guided her﹐ gently urging her to rock her hips - she did . it was like the heavens had come down and bestowed upon me their greatest blessing﹐ my perfect [ Y/N ] and her tight pussy .

she moved faster﹐ taking the opportunity to lift herself up and drop down﹐ using me and my cock to chase her high . her moans fell from her lips like diamonds﹐ adorning the room with their sparkle﹐ illuminating our bodies in this disgusting act of lust and sin . her hand drifted to my cheek as she rode me﹐ running from my jaw to my lips﹐ she smelled like heaven﹐ she felt like sin .

i could feel myself getting lost in her﹐ completely and utterly ruined by her . i studied her face﹐ the way she started enjoying it made my heart beat faster . her eyes shut as her head rolled back﹐ my tip kissing her cervix oh so gently . fuck﹐ she ' s magnetic . i dropped the knife﹐ using both hands to grip her hips as i stilled her .

the moaning ceased only for a moment﹐ our heavy breaths in sync as i thrusted up into her . the sweetest sound left my little dove ' s lips﹐ her hands gripping my wrists for support . her nails dug into my skin﹐ the burn stinging so good .

❛ fuck﹐ baby . ❜ i moaned as i watched her enjoy every ounce of pleasure she was getting from me . her walls tightened around my shaft as her legs shook softly . i gripped her left hand﹐ moving her fingers to her clit . we were close﹐ so fucking close . ❛ small circles . ❜ i instructed﹐ watching as her tiny body writhed in pleasure .

the familiar sensation hit me like a truck﹐ my body shook as i pulled her down﹐ her bare chest pressed against my shirt as my arms wrapped around her small body .

i held her close as her climax hit﹐ forcing a scream from her throat as she shook﹐ her unoccupied hand tugging at my hair .

her walls contracted a few more times as we came down from our highs﹐ my hips still slowly rocking my dick in and out of her perfect pussy . i planted a soft kiss on her forehead .

i knew there ' d be questions soon﹐ but for now she seemed tired . i waited for her to fall asleep before slowly and gently cleaning her up and tucking her in .

maybe she ' d think it was just a dream﹐ or maybe my dove will finally come home .

[angelsdean]

from Nashcon 2012: A fan asked if he’d seen the final version of the last episode. Ackles: I watched the air of “The Slice Girls”. Fan: Did you know when you were filming the scene with Lydia that they were going to intercut it with the scene of the murder? Ackles: Yeah it was written like that. Fan: Do you think Dean would have actually shot her? The fans in the room had divergent opinions, but Ackles, after all, knows Dean best. Ackles: I’ve gotta be honest, I think he probably would have. I think if push comes to shove, he was still processing it in his mind but I think he would have done it. We wanted to play that ambiguity, it was important for Dean to have a real struggle with it. There wasn’t a lot of dialogue there to make the struggle, but he had to struggle, and the struggle had to come off the screen. I’m glad that was a question in your mind.

not really sure what the purpose of this ask is? like i can disagree with him lol despite "knowing dean best" (and sometimes the actors have bad takes. sometimes they don't remember shit. they're not rewatching and pouring over the source material the way fans are. so they're often not the best to ask when it comes to interpretation / analysis. which, side note-- is exactly why i wish jensen and danneel would've done their quarantine rewatch podcast idea. i NEED that man to rewatch the entire series and Remember and SEE his own jacting joices)

ANWAYS. plus he's always been one to say it's not his place to definitely say what anything means and leave it up to the audience to interpret. like even here he's admitting they purposely played it ambiguously. that's so people can decide for themselves. He's simply stating his own opinion, but that's not definitive, not "word of god", and not textual. the actual text is ambiguous and open for us to interpret.

though, i don't disagree much with what he's saying, aside from his conclusion. because yeah he was still processing and struggling with the fact that he suddenly has a kid and that this kid is a monster who was created with the sole purpose to kill him. that's A LOT to process. self-preservation would say: kill the monster trying to kill you. meanwhile familial instinct and his complicated feelings towards his own parents and seeing a kid raised to be a weapon and bound by a "destiny" would have him wanting to help and protect them. and i think part of him is always fighting against the "code of ethics" john drilled into them growing up that a monster is always a monster and needs to be killed VS dean's own code he develops that largely considers anyone who hurts innocent people to be monsters (including humans), and will spare monsters who have not yet killed (especially monster children).

[xeyesofstardust]

In case I haven't made it painfully obvious already, I hate the Marauders and the stans. Like, at this point, it's actual hatred.

I probably hate them more than Snape hates James *fucking* Potter and it's all because of what I saw on TikTok a little over two months ago.

Now before I start this there is a trigger warning for SA and I advise if your a survior to not read this. I am a survivor and the Marauders stans headcannon did absolutely upset me.

I wasn't even going to make this post, at first, but then I ended up being shoved into enemy territory with the same Marauders tiktoker who came up with this dumsterfire of a headcannon, which is odd because I don't even interact with them at all.

Ok, so, someone in the Marauders fandom actually had the audacity to insinuate that if Harry had been born a girl and had looked more like Lily instead of James that Snape would've been a pedo and tried to groom her.

* sighs dramatically *

Yes, youb read that correctly. They are actually saying in droves that Severus Snape would've tried to do the entirity of the Lolita novel on Fem!Harry.

I cannot be the only one thinking how this is an insane, unhinged leap they are making.

They are taking their hatred of Snape too far.

I can understand not liking Snape, but to actually come up with this headcanon is just sick in the head.

These are also the same people who are going out there on all platforms calling the Slytherin Fandom unhinged for making up fictional slytherin character, like Mattheo Riddle and Lorenzo Berkshire, demanding to know what their purpose in the fandom is.

* eye roll *

There is nothing wrong with adding a little something extra to Slytherin house, since it's lacking because JKR couldn't be bothered. Besides it's fanfiction... there doesn't need to be a purpose for any of it.

Also, leave my two favorite sons alone, they've done nothing wrong and so what if I wanna be delulu and delude myself into thinking they're in the source material. That's my business.

Putting me being delulu aside, there is nothing wrong with making up characters for the fandom. It's no where near as bad as what the Marauder fan club is up to.

This is just disgusting and they need to be stopped.

When the HBO series eventually does roll on out and get to the Marauders flashback scenes, or it gets its own spin off, I hope you guys don't get any of the scenes you want. I hope they suck just like you guys suck.

I'm sorry if I'm appearing a bit childish in this portion of the post, I've been having a rough week and Marauders stans always put me in a mood. I just needed to vent about this.

My medical insurance is on hold and I'm waiting for the county to sort through me reassessment application so therefore I cannot talk to my therapist. Not that I could ever bring myself to talk to my therapist about any of this.

I don't even think she'd know what the Marauders fandom is. I mean, she knows what Harry Potter is but the extent of her knowledge is the movies.

[minijenn]

Universe Falls Preview

Hey wow! Finally making some actual progress on this chapter! We're kinda getting into the actual meat of things pretty quickly here, don't wanna meander around bc the source material (aka the game itself) doesn't and neither shall I. So enjoy this small bit of setup!

---

“Ta da!” Steven proudly held the Light Prism high above his head for his friends to see. He’d convinced Dipper, Mabel, and Connie to congregate down at the shack in record time, and with good reason. There was no telling when the Gems would realize their newly-claimed artifact was gone, and Steven wanted to make sure he had a chance to show off something this special before it was too late. 

“It’s… a triangle,” Dipper noted bluntly. 

“A really shiny triangle,” Mabel added, much more fascinated. “Steven, is every Gem thing always so pretty and shiny?”

“Most Gem things are,” Steven shrugged.. 

“So is this Gem thing magical then?” Connie asked, curious.

“Uh huh,” Steven nodded. “Pearl said it can make, uh… what was it again? Oh, right! An ‘army of light’, but… I’m not sure what that could mean…”

“Well, whatever it does mean, it sounds awesome!” Mabel exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “I wanna see it in action. Bust that baby outta that case and get the light show started!”

“It’s a light army, Mabel, not a light show,” Dipper corrected. “Which doesn’t sound awesome to me; it sounds dangerous.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what Pearl said,” Steven frowned down at the Prism. “But then again… she said only a powerful Gem could make the light army and… last time I checked, I’m not that powerful yet, so…”

“I don’t know, Steven,” Connie shook her head. “I’m with Dipper on this. I don’t think we should play around with that thing.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. But…”

“But you said it wouldn’t do anything for you,” Mabel pointed out as she plucked the Prism out of Steven’s hands. “And since we’re not even Gems, it definitely won’t do anything for us. So what’s the harm in taking just a quick peek?”

“The harm is that we shouldn’t even risk it in the first place,” Dipper protested. He managed to take it from Mabel, pulling it out of her reach when she tried to get it back from him. “I’ve been reading about Gem artifacts just like this in the journal, and a lot of them are incredibly powerful and-”

“Blah blah blah, boring nerd stuff, blah blah,” Mabel teased, sticking her tongue out at her brother as she snatched the Prism back. “That’s all I’m hearing from you right now. Relax, bro-bro.” She casually tossed the case up before catching it again. “If this thing really was dangerous, then the Gems wouldn’t have just left it lying around, would they?”

“Um… well, they sorta left it behind on accident,” Steven rubbed the back of his neck. “But before that, they were talking about bubbling it or locking it up inside of a safe.”

“That makes it sound like they thought it was dangerous, at least,” Connie noted. 

“Exactly,” Dipper nodded, scowling. “So quit messing with it already, and-” He attempted to reclaim the Prism from Mabel, only to be met with a small shove, one that he readily returned as a struggle between the twins ensued. “Ugh, Mabel!” 

“Dipper!” Mabel retorted just as harshly. “Why don’t you quit being so paranoid and just-”

“Take that thing back up to the temple where it belongs and-”

“Having some fun with it isn’t gonna hurt-”

“Anyone with any kind of common sense would know you shouldn’t-”

“Keep on trying to grab it from me, but you’re never gonna-”

“Stop being so-”

“You’re just so-”

“ANNOYING!” both twins snapped in fierce unison, though their arguing hardly stopped there. Steven and Connie could only stand on the sidelines and anxiously watch as they grappled with each other for the Prism, though it never managed to stay in either of their grasps for too long. 

“Is this how siblings normally act?” Connie whispered, aside. “I’ve never had one to know.”

“Me neither,” Steven shook his head. “B-but they shouldn’t fight like this! Come on, you guys,” he stepped forward, throwing his hands into the struggle between the twins. “Why don’t we all just-” He stopped short when his hands finally latched onto the Prism–or rather, onto its case. The artifact itself suddenly slipped out, swiftly falling to the ground between the three of them. As caught up in their shouting match as they were, Dipper and Mabel didn’t notice it, but Steven did. Without thinking, he lunged low for the Prism, catching the precious treasure with both hands well before it could hit the ground. 

And at that exact moment… Prism’s true power was suddenly unleashed

[primamchorus]

Shackle Wrought In Ink

The Everlasting Night -- a result of the Starscourge. Darkness blankets the star of Eos, and many of the King's royal retinue and members that hold the titles belonging to the Lucian Royal Council have gone their separate ways. It was inevitable and necessary to keep efforts strong in protecting those who still remain on the star. Sometimes, however, they reunite. Some reunions are not as happy as they could be, either.

Word Count: 2,269

“Hey! Woman of the hour, or so I hear…” Prompto said, and Primam could hear the grin in his tone before she swiveled around in her chair to face him. He, as expected, had that wide, sunny smile upon his face. A welcome sight amidst the shrouded lands while the Everlasting Night swaddled the star.

Primam offered him a sheepish smile in turn, and looked at him as he leaned against the doorframe of the room she had been using as a makeshift study in order to go over her elemancy notes and theories. He pushed himself from the frame and approached her, hands going into his pockets.

“Hey yourself,” Primam began in greeting. She straightened out the papers on her desk and set them aside before standing up. Her expression warmed as she put her full attention on Prompto. “My brother told me he saw that you’d made your way into town. It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise,” Prompto said in turn. His stance became more relaxed and his expression softened. He then looked around before motioning to the whole of the small room. There were books, folders, notes, and all kinds of things just stacked up on top of one another. Boxes of vials and other elemancy materials shoved away into corners. He knew that magic and elemancy was Primam’s specialty, but…

A silent sigh fell from Prompto’s nose. “Being cooped up in here can't be super great -- and knowing you, this is probably most of what you see every day.”

Prompto then turned his torso as he pointed his thumbs out the way he came. “You, uh…want to go for a walk? Get a change of scenery?”

“Oh, uh… Yeah, sure. I was actually just finishing up here.” She was not.

Despite the nature of Primam’s studies and putting her knowledge to use, or rather saving them for later, she straightened out her coat and approached Prompto before the two of them stepped out into the hall of the Leville. Prompto stepped aside from the door, motioning for her to walk forward before him. Once she departed, he then followed along after her before catching up and falling into step next to her. Together, they walked in momentary silence, the muffled sounds of their soles hitting the carpeted floors the only thing that filled the air for a while.

“So…” Prompto broke the silence. He kept his gaze pointed forward, only momentarily glancing in Primam’s direction as they walked. “You…haven’t really deviated away from Lestallum since…we’ve all gone our separate ways. Is everything holding up alright around here? I mean, I guess they seem to be since it seems like people were pretty happy about you helping to figure out a temporary power source if the meteorshards can’t cut it at some point.”

“Oh, you… That’s what you meant by ‘woman of the hour’ when you arrived,” Primam replied, piecing together his greeting from before. “Yes, well…it seemed like the logical substitute. Lightning energies from the now defunct safe havens scattered around the star.”

Primam raised a finger, a smile spreading across her face as she started talking more about the stuff she spent years studying. “Tandem and Cid came up with the blueprints, of course, but once they managed to plan and create something viable, they approached Ros and myself to weigh in on how to apply elemancy to their generator, adjusting as necessary.

“Most of what remained was creating elemancy flasks or canisters that could be attached to the generator as well as regulate it so that it didn’t overload and burst! So now, that magic can be used to create power if we need it or need to distribute it to other places if there are any hiccups or failures.”

As Prompto listened to Primam, a small smile tugged at his lips. She was passionate about magic and being able to use it for good -- she always had been. It was refreshing to hear her speak highly and hopefully about something given the circumstances and how long it had been since Noctis disappeared into the Crystal.

“And this is just the tip of the iceberg,” Primam continued, talking faster as she went on. “Power’s the most important thing to prioritize to keep the outposts and streets lit, and drive off the daemons. We can also start blueprints on stuff that can be used for cooking or warmth if we need it now. Diverting fire energies into such creations would be a boon for cooking or winter!”

Primam motioned with her hands, rolling her wrists excitedly as she clearly had given thought to all the possibilities that would be present for those within the outposts. “Fuel can be saved for transportation! Not to mention that if we can get the ice energy rigged into the ice boxes with a regulator attachment, it can make it so that food doesn’t spoil or go bad as quickly. We can stretch meats, fruits, and vegetables for much longer so that there’s less need for hunts or scavenging!”

“... Removing anything that needs power under normal circumstances!” Prompto mused to himself, brow raising as he considered how much magical energies had been saved up. He then looked at Primam, both of them walking out of the hotel’s double doors to the outside. “But…what about elemancy that’s supposed to be given out to the Glaive or Hunters to help with any defensive efforts?”

“That’s the best part,” Primam said with a grin. She skipped ahead and then turned to face Prompto, her smile wide. She was clearly proud of herself. “With a lot of the notes and research I’ve poured into elemancy, especially after having been enlisted into the Glaive for a time, we can easily maximize the power with how magical energy reacts to certain added components, or are elevated by such. This means we can outfit the defensive line with enhanced elemancy flasks with multiple uses that still benefit their efforts!”

Prompto could not help but to smile at Primam’s excitement and clear confidence in this endeavor. He barely understood how to use magic, let alone combine different components to enhance or change it. But if he could trust Primam during their travels in the years past, he could trust her now. However, from what he did understand, the improvements would have been big -- especially once they started getting transported or built outside of Lestallum.

“You all have been…really busy…” Prompto said, his voice laced with a sense of awe. He then raised a hand to rub the back of his neck as his smile faltered. “Sorry, I just… I feel like I haven’t been doing all that much -- definitely not as important -- since…well, you know… Noct…”

Primam’s own smile fell, and her shoulders fell somewhat slack as she stepped forward. Tentatively, she reached out before placing a hand on his arm. Looking at him, Primam did her best to be reassuring. “I know… I-I know how hard it must be. I mean…we were all close to Noctis. We’re all just…doing our best.”

“Yeah, but…you and the other nobles all still have your connection to the Crystal or whatever it is to help. Me, I’m just…I’m just Prompto. A lowborn orphan -- clone -- with absolutely nothing that feels like it helps. Not like you,” Prompto then motioned toward all of Primam, looking at her. “You’ve always been amazing compared to…me. Compared to anyone not of royal or noble blood. Even now. Especially now.”

“That’s…” Primam started, frowning. She curled her fingers, gently holding onto his arm. “Th-that’s not fair to yourself and your accomplishments, and you know it.”

“Sorry, I didn’t come here to complain,” Prompto apologized. “I’m just frustrated. I feel like I should be past all of this. But I’m not. And I just feel it even more during all of this. I couldn’t protect Ignis. Couldn’t fend off Ardyn -- twice. I feel…just so inadequate.”

Primam lowered her gaze to the ground, eyes glancing between cracks and the cobblestones before she slid her hand down down and took up Prompto’s own. This felt like a discussion that needed more privacy. 

“About that walk and change of scenery…” Primam said, leading Prompto away. He only responded with a sound of surprise as Primam walked toward the EXINERIS power plant, otherwise he had no objections. Usually only the workers were there, and sparsely, which afforded plenty of opportunity to have only each other’s company.

Both of them briskly walked past the chain link fences that blocked off the mass of one of the meteor craters lined with shards that still radiated thermal energies. The air grew warm, and Primam removed her coat after she let go of Prompto’s hand. Turning to face him, Primam sighed, pursing her lips momentarily.

“Apologies…I thought perhaps we should find some place with less potential interruptions…” Primam explained.

“No, it’s fine. You’re right.” Prompto made no effort to argue or contend with Primam’s concern. He found a nearby stack of crates to take a seat on. “I’ve been holding onto some of this for so long while out on my own, and you’re just…probably the only person I can really tell and feel like I’m being heard. Without Noct around, I mean… I just didn’t…expect it to just come out like that.”

Nearing Prompto, Primam set her coat down and leaned on the box next to him. Were they speaking under different circumstances, his admission would have sent her heart aflutter.

“I don’t mind. I’m…I’m simply glad you feel like you can talk to me. Can talk to me.” Primam reached out and gently placed a hand on the back of Prompto’s. She wanted to show that she was still there for him, as always.

Silence lingered in the air between them for a bit as Prompto and Primam allowed their words to kind of stew and marinate. In that time, Primam glanced down at their hands, her eyes then soon going to Prompto’s wrist.

It was concealed again. There was a time he stopped covering it, but…

“... You still treat it like a shackle…” Primam quietly said, her fingers trailing up to the leather band that encircled his wrist. Based on Prompto’s words, she assumed that the truth of his past must have been weighing on him.

“... I guess I do,” came Prompto’s simple, equally quiet response.

Withdrawing her hand, Primam sighed. Slowly, she posited: “Have you…thought about getting it removed? Covered up, maybe?”

Prompto lifted his arm, soon rubbing his wrist where his barcode was. He pursed his lips, a distant look in his eyes as he then responded with, “... When I was on my own in Niflheim…I tried desperately to scratch it off. I also thought about just…burning it off. I’d be left with a scar, maybe it’d have been a worse reminder. I don’t know…”

“It still doesn’t define you. I still stand by that. If…if Noct were here, he’d…he’d say the same thing. None of us ever cared about what you could have been once it was revealed to us.” Primam straightened up, hoisting herself up onto the crate next to Prompto. She efforted a sheepish smile -- reassuring in its own way as she bumped her shoulder against his. “Besides…I don’t think you could ever be that. You’re Prompto. You’re the person who…never teased me when I got braces. Who helped me up when you saw me fall and scrape my knee. Never made fun of mine nor Tandem’s white hair. I…”

Primam trailed off for a moment, a hand raising to clutch a lock of hair that hung over her shoulder.

“I remember you were the first person who told me that it was…nice. Like snow, or moonlight…” Primam softly continued. “I think you were…the first person who made me feel like my hair could be pretty. It was a nice feeling when we were going to school together.”

“Well…that’s because it is pretty,” Prompto replied without thinking fully about it. His face and ears then fell flush, the red apparent upon his skin -- hiding even his freckles. “S-Sorry, I mean. It is. I just… I’m not--I don’t mean to overstep or make it feel like I’m hitting on you or something.”

Primam brought a hand up, covering her mouth as she giggled.

“... See? You couldn’t be whatever you think that barcode means you would be or would have been. Ever. You’re sweet. Kind. Considerate…” Primam then calmed and brought her hand down to gingerly brush her fingers against Prompto’s covered wrist. Her expression fell, and she returned to the initial conversation. “Do…consider it, though? Covering it up, I mean. There are people willing to still give out tattoos during their downtime. If you run into Gladio, he might be able to put in a recommendation.”

Her fingers slipped from his wrist as she withdrew her hand.

“Of course…I’m…not here to make any decisions for you. It is, ultimately, up to you to decide how you want to move forward,” Primam finished.

“It’s a good suggestion.” Prompto looked over at Primam, his face still red from the lingering blush. He smiled, however, his expression genuine. “I’m glad you don’t…talk down to me about it and just… I’m glad we’re friends.”

“Me too.” Primam then shoved herself off the box, taking her coat up in her arms as she did so. Looking up at him, she asked, “so…do you want to go for a walk? Get a change of scenery, perhaps? It's a bit sultry here.”

An amused scoff escaped Prompto’s lips, and he hopped from the crate to stand next to Primam. “A change of scenery sounds great.”

[bearimba]

Thank you so much @invisiblemelonmoose!!! Hope you don't mind me answering your comment with a post, it's just a lot easier to format this way since I have quite a bit to say on the subject >:)c

So right off the bat, none of the kids have an actual connection to the legendaries---no special ✨chosen ones✨ or anything like that. It's more of a thematic thing for characterization purposes. To put it simply, each legendary has a specific word/trait I've associated with it for one reason or another, and so each character exhibits their respective trait in a way that they're supposed to grapple with throughout their game's storyline. Aka, an easy recipe for character growth!

Red -> Moltres (passion) Leaf -> Articuno (composure) Blue -> Zapdos (wit)

Since there's not really much lore for the Legendary Birds (at least not that I can find---there's a bit from the movies but I don't typically work with the animated stuff as source material), I had a very vague starting point, so I decided to go off their elements when selecting traits. Fire is often associated with burning, consuming passion---but Red isn't exactly the most animated guy in canon. Instead of being outwardly enthused, he has a much more mellow but no less intense love for pokemon. Big or small, tough or weak, he has a soft spot for them all. However, he also happens to have a talent for battling that Oak picks up on, for which he encouraged him (to a maddening degree) to pick up battling and eventually the Indigo League. Yet all the nagging and expectations---from nearly everyone around him, not just Oak---wears down on him, and it takes a forfeited match and an extended trip to the coldest, most isolated place in the region to recall that old flame... Blue takes after his grandfather in that he has a lightning-quick intelligence---not that Oak ever seems to be particularly impressed. In a family full of extraordinary people, Blue only ever seems to be extra ordinary. As a result, he goes out of his way to appear confident and cocky, though it's less about having an inferiority complex and more so just wanting to be noticed. He's even compared to Red constantly, who is objectively the better battler and who is the main reason Blue takes on the gym challenge himself. But on his journey, his self-assurance actually causes him to make dumb mistake after dumb mistake that culminates in the loss at the Indigo League. Then Red goes missing all of a sudden, and Blue's left to pick up the pieces of his ego while he and Leaf travel through the Sevii Islands. Out of the trio, Leaf is most definitely the most unfazed. It's not that she's particularly peaceful---watching one of Blue's and hers many arguments will instantly prove otherwise---but overall she's not nearly as passionate as Red or as outspoken as Blue. In fact, she can show an almost icy apathy at times. When Blue returns to Pallet Town without Red and without a Champion title, she's the one to suggest they head out to the Sevii Islands and take a break. But as the situation on the archipelago worsens, Blue digs them into deeper trouble with the remnants of Team Rocket, and they continue to hear nothing but radio silence from Red, Leaf's first instinct is to shove it all down like none of it particularly matters.

Lyra -> Lugia (empathy) Silver -> Ho-Oh (justice)

Ok, this one might need a little explaining since I kind of had to extrapolate here (Lugia's ocean/storm thing is way too close to Kyogre to just go with something water-related, and Ho-Oh is kinda just Moltres But Cooler in a way). In the Tower Duo's legend, the Brass Tower burned down in a rainstorm, during which Lugia tried to quell the fires with the wind. However, that put the rest of Ecruteak in danger, so Lugia had to stand aside and let it burn---its empathy led to its own downfall, so to say. Then Ho-Oh came along and revived the pokemon that had died in the tower (the Legendary Beasts), but fixing the injustice that happened to the Beasts caused the townsfolk to drive them away. Also, we're ignoring the whole blurb about trainers who can "touch the souls of pokemon" or have a "pure heart" bringing the Tower Duo back---I'm regarding that as a legend that's more so about people and pokemon as collectives regaining trust in one another (remember, trying to avoid chosen ones here). Anywaysss, moving on to Lyra and Silver! Lyra is a very empathic person, but she relates to pokemon far more than she does people. She's used to going along with anything and watching the world move on around her, so when she's faced with actual conflict, she struggles to go out of her way to help. Meanwhile, Silver has no problem calling out such infractions when he sees them, but he often fails to consider the fallout when trying to confront it---especially how it'll affect his own pokemon. Their arcs throughout HGSS involve learning from each other (as in their arcs are so intwined it's extremely difficult to discuss them separately) until by the end, Lyra becomes Champion and gains the power and motivation to help everyone, while Silver is... well, he's stuck reevaluating his entire worldview and goes through a teeny tiny itty bitty little existential crisis, but that's a story for another day (aka spoilers that I would like to cover in its own post). Originally, the plan was to pair the johtags to each Legendary Beast with Kris, Ethan, and Lyra relating to Raikou, Entei, and Suicune respectively. However, the fire/water/electric combo felt way too similar to the kantrio kids, and I couldn't really come up with anything original that felt like it would fit. I feel like I can justify it though considering both Kris's and Ethan's journeys have nothing to do with the plot of HGSS (Kris's takes place a few years before during GSC and Ethan's doing his own thing with Eusine during HGSS) sooo......

Brendan -> Groudon (structure?) May -> Kyogre (entropy?) Wally -> Rayquaza (ambition?)

I'll be completely honest here, I've barely fleshed out the Hoenn trio. like. at all. so I won't say much here for fear of writing something that I don't agree with later. But! I can say that while the kanjoh kids all start off with their defining traits, I want Brendan, May, and Wally to work up to theirs. Other than that, I'd have to do way more research into the characters and plotline to come up with a decent semi-faithful interpretation, so this is my formal apology to all the Hoenn fans reading this :( I'll get to it someday I promise!!!!

Dawn -> Mespirit (emotion) Lucas -> Azelf (willpower) Barry -> Uxie (knowledge)

Since I've saved the Creation Trio for PLA, the Sinnoh kids get the Lake Guardians! It's easy pickings, too, since they've already got characteristics practically built into them. I know the matchup here mighttt look off considering the character's in-game personalities, but hear me out on this: Dawn starts out on her pokemon journey purely to spite her mother and becomes Champion mostly because she can. If that's not emotional-led thinking, I don't know what is. She certainly doesn't act emotional half the time---she's level-headed, and clever enough to get herself out of all the trouble she causes---but there is very much a reason why she and Barry get along so well. In addition to that, she does hold a very firm belief that certain things should go certain ways and she will do just about everything to ensure they do. In that respect, she can come across as quite entitled, but it isn't inherently in a mean-spirited fashion. She just needs to figure out what's worth fighting for and what isn't. Lucas is much more stubborn than he typically lets on. He does come off as a little awkward and even bumbling at times, but he's also a trainer nearly on par with Dawn and Barry. Considering he's a dedicated research assistant underneath Rowan and Dawn/Barry are full-time trainers, it'd take a lot of commitment to train his team enough to keep up. Overall, it takes quite a bit of convincing to get him to back down from something once he's set on it. If something's false, he has to correct it (it's not about him being right, it's about getting the facts straight), and if he doesn't agree with a rule, he'll simply ignore it (why should a rule exist if it's stupid anyways?) Though it can be inconvenient at times, it's exactly this attitude that allows him to survive getting blasted back to ancient Hisui. Also a fun fact: Lucas is the only protag to officially have two legendary associations, as his character correlates to Azelf and Dialga in DPPt and PLA respectively (Akari gets Palkia, and you'll never guess who Giratina is left to... >_> ). Barry loves to learn, he just can't focus for the life of him. He's constantly the first to know and the first on the scene, he always uses his losses as a chance to reflect and improve his team, and he even goes out of his way to memorize all he can at the Trainers' School in Jubilife. That's not to say he especially cares about learning subjects outside of his interests, but he absolutely does get sucked deep into whatever catches his eye. Especially after Lucas's disappearance, he devotes all his free time to research just so he can figure out what happened to his friend---and just possibly, with some help, he manages to catch a lead...

[beevean]

you know, I actually think there's a lot of juicy merit to the idea of the belmonts not being the righteous heroes we always thought they were. maybe after many generations of triumphing over evil, they let it get to their heads that they were unfallible, that their judgements were always correct, etc. the concept of genuinely making them morally grey has so much potential from a storytelling angle, it's just too damn bad the only media that ever attempts this is fucking netflixvania. outside of like, less than 5 throwaway lines about baby vamp skulls and dark magic sealed doors, IT'S NEVER BROUGHT UP AGAIN. you had an idea and it sounded cool in your head, but no genuine clue how to actually WRITE it so some editor just overlooked the few lines you shoved into the script on a whim. as it stands now it feels like one the shows many attempts to shit talk the source material for the thousandth time. and aside from trevor, everyone is dead! how are we meant to criticize the dubious heroes when we can't even see how they behaved/what their practices were?? why should we even CARE???

The vampire kids is just proof of how shoddy the lorebuilding is. Once you get past the initial shock of "OMG the Belmonts killed babies??????", you think for one second "wait, the vampires can't reproduce, so... where are these children coming from?". And no matter the answer, you eventually realize that they deserve to be mercy killed 💀 (unless they're dhampirs, but that would be an even worse piece of information to relegate to shock value for 5 seconds)

There's also Julia, mind you. Who was apparently racist against vampires lmao, and killed Olrox' poor bf who was so nice and wanted equality and revolution, really! I don't even know how bad we're supposed to feel lol, because unless I'm mistaken, in that scene Olrox also reveals he turned his bf against his will...

Anyway. I get your point but... I don't trust like that anymore 😅 once again, I'd rather extrapolate on what the games left us. Trevor, as pointed out here, is an absolute savage in CoD, like he sounds so bloodthirsty for no reason! And he's the first Belmont who has killed Dracula, he's not even burdened by his own legacy, he's one of the founders of said legacy! And Richter's flaws are infamous, the way he enjoys the thrill of the fight just too much, the way his identity is wrapped around his destiny, the way he falters under Dracula's manipulation... Even Juste, you can see him as being a hothead and too willing to forget about recent events in HoD, indicating either denial or a sense of overprotectiveness.

Basically, giving personal flaws to the Belmonts is more than welcome. You can use these flaws to paint them as not completely pure, even, although personally I'm tired of the stereotype of the arrogant superhero. But NFCV just... doesn't like the Belmonts, at all, and that "oh they kill innocent vampires" tidbit that Alucard so despises, while I'm sure it's meant as a way to flesh out the "heroes", comes off to me as the show siding too often with the antagonists, and downplaying the Belmont's genuine desire to do good. Or turning Trevor and Juste into cynical washouts because we just like that archetype I guess :\

[uselesstaroth]

Lies of Ann Profiles

If you don't know, Lies of Ann is a fic I wrote based on Lies of P, you can read it here, it has recently been completed.

Ann the Hedgehog

Pronouns They/She

Created by Eggman as a perfect replica of Shadow's abilities using the original Neo Metal Sonic

Wields the Variable Chaos Staff: a staff that extends and retracts, and when imbued with chaos energy can take any shape from spears, torches and guns

Has none of Shadow's memories, instead was supposed to live out those memories inside the facility to become exactly like Shadow rather than being programmed to be him

Is very insistent on being their own person

Far more cheerful than Shadow in general, eager for social activities

Can change the color of their stripes at will, but keeps them silver in homage of Neo Metal Sonic

Remarkably like Shadow in many ways, specifically in his sense of independence and protection. "If the world chooses to be my enemy I'll fight like I always have"

Rouge the Bat

Shadow's former best friend in the world. Went through a rough grieving process, bringing her to Ann

Shadow left the location of Ann's facility behind in Rouge's hands before disappearing, and wanted to know what was so special about it that it would be his (maybe) dying wish

Grows to respect Ann as their own person throughout the story, especially after learning the true purpose of the facility

Actively fighting against Neo for usage of the facility. Helps Ann however she can. Very frustrated she can't help directly

Neo Metal Sonic

Pronouns it/its

The original from Sonic Heroes. Created a decoy Metal Sonic to escape that is identical to its pre-neo self

Has long since accepted that it is not Sonic, despite being unable to shake the deep discomfort that comes from that

Pesters Ann throughout the entire escape, blocking out Rouge at any opportunity. Wants Ann to give up being their own person so it feels less miserable about its situation

Takes over screens and holo projectors in the facility to speak, always using its intact appearance instead of its real form

Eggman found it, and used it to create Ann, picking Neo apart to figure out how it ticks, leaving it almost skeletal in appearance and shoved in a corner of the facility to rot. Managed to take over the facility completely

Eight the JCKL

Robotic copy of Infinite. Pronouns he/him

Has all of Infinite's memories, including the deaths of his teammates at Shadow's hands, despite their robot copies still being around

Very protective of them, putting aside his own selfish wishes to leave the facility to be with them

Wide skill set, like the original, his sword is his specialty

Unlike the original, has a "magical" cube to attack opponents, be it slamming them or extending its material to pierce them

Hates being called "worthless"

Named Eight by Ann at first sight. Escaped the facility, becoming a sort of rogue vigilante.

Enjoys being around Ann as someone also made to be someone else. Never admits it.

Dr. Ivo "Eggman" Robotnik

Forgot this facility existed

Shadow the Hedgehog

Unknown.

Ann thinks he's alive, just really far away.

Citizens of Green Hill

Most of Sonic's friends have robot copies living here, including Sonic himself and oddballs like Belle the Tinkerer

Completely pitch black. They all see just fine.

Endlessly fixing it whenever it breaks. It is home after all

Overlooked by Mecha Trip, a massive golden dragon, the biggest source of light in fake Green Hill

None of them have any desire to leave

Cyber-Maria

Broken. Non-functional. Never fulfilled its purpose to die.

[kariachi]

Quick, chill little ficlet. Kevin waking up.

~~

Kevin woke from his nap with a keen awareness of the position and strength of every power source within a straight shot from him, of every temperature hot spot. This he tasted before he was even truly conscious, before he could feel the whining of his empty belly. Zed, ever the smart girl, was out of the room at his first rumbling, croaky yawn, her changing position tracked by her energy signature without him needing to open his eyes. He stretched a million kinks from joints he shifted to have and remove, not yet awake enough to know which species he was supposed to be out of his too many options.

Blearily he settled on a fully Osmosian shape, sticking to quadrupedalism as he slipped off the couch and wandered blind for the fridge. A combination of muscle memory and the differing heat radiation from various materials in the apartment keeping him on course. Temptation and instinct said to simply lay himself again the appliance, draw in the electricity powering it rather than waste time and energy, but he managed to push the idea aside. He wasn’t ready for that just yet. Better to claw open the fridge, grab a container at random.

Popping it open with practiced ease, Kevin deigned to shove his muzzle directly inside. There was no company to complain about sloppy eating, and while he was waking up well and relaxed, not enough so for shame at a lazy habit. It wasn’t until the container had been licked clean that he opened his eyes with another yawn and stretch, rolling his shoulders as he looked out around the apartment.

Now he just had to figure out what else he’d planned to do with his afternoon…

[jaywings]

HI I'M LATE. Writing asks: 7, 37, 44, 75!

7. Post a snippet from a wip

A dust-encrusted desk with a computer sat in the corner. Zim nodded and marched lock-kneed to it. He was violently shoved aside by GIR, who leaped onto the rolling chair in an explosion of old, half-disintegrated foam, sending the chair crashing into the wall. “I’m gonna play Club Penguin!” GIR cried. “No!” Zim knocked him off the chair. “No penguin-clubbing! I have work to do!” “Aw.” GIR’s pout lasted approximately three seconds before something else caught his attention and he ran to investigate whatever it was. Zim pursed his lips and leaned toward the monitor, jamming his thumb on the power button. An Irken computer never failed to respond immediately. This piece of shlinkgoff trash took so long to boot up that Zim nearly snapped the keyboard in frustration.

37. What fic has been the hardest for you to write?

Hm... I want to say Real Science, because it's the longest thing I've ever written (quite unintentionally), and it tries to balance around six POV characters from two completely different fandoms. It also focuses on characters that can be a bit of a challenge to write- GLaDOS, Chell, and Zim especially. It's really pleasing when people comment about liking their dialogue and characterization.

44. What is your favorite genre to write?

Adventure! For long fics, at least. For short fics I like slice-of-life stuff, recovery and bonding, and "missing" scenes that could fit into the source material.

75. Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn’t expect?

Yeah, that's For This Music is My Language, my one Coco fic. It's got the most hits next to Real Science, and it tops both the kudos and bookmarks. I don't really know how people still find it tbh, haha.

[adacatlovelace]

Some thoughts on Charlie and The Chocolate Factory (2015)

So this movie came out when I was in middle school and I remember absolutely despising it because it was different from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. WW has and will always will have a special place in my heart and is still one of my favorite movies of all time.. but in terms of adaptation, its very bad. Its no secret Roald Dahl hated it and I see why.

But now rewatching Charlie almost 20 years later, I have to say its an amazing movie and a wonderful adaptation of the original book.

I've seen people criticize the opening becuase Willy Wonka's opening is absolutely ICONIC. The footage of real chocolate being made makes you hungry for a chocolate bar as you see liquid chocolate cascade over itself vs. Charlie's cold CGI opening. So WW's is better right?

Well, not necessarily. WW was made to sell chocolate first and foremost, so having such a chocolate filled opening is really just doing its job of advertising for Quaker oats by showing a very realistic portrayal of chocolate while also setting the stage for a fun romp in the world of candy.

Charlie's opening is cold because its also setting the stage. Its simultaneously fantastical and nonsensical while also being foreboding and ominous. Its a fun romp to be sure, but it does have its dark side as children are being picked off one by one in factory accidents. Its whimsical but its not SAFE.

You can see a clear inspiration from old Fairy tales in Dahl's writing, where things are magical but have a clear dangerous, darker side to them. Matilda was the story of violent abuse by an authority figure. The BFG had giants that ate people. And Willy Wonka's chocolate factory almost acts as a portal into a fairy world where the foolish are punished if they do not heed the warnings.

WW, for all its magic and nostalgia seems to miss this (Which is why the boat scene is just so JARRING). I LOVE Gene Wilder as Wonka, but does he act like someone who's been isolated inside of a factory for the last 15 years due to his own paranoia? He's insane to be sure, but he's also suave and is an amazing showman.

Charlie gets Wonka a whole lot closer to the source material. He almost seems completely disconnected from reality, and while he has a showman's spirit, his social skills are as horrendous as you'd expect a eccentric recluse's to be.

The other ticket winners are also handled a lot better. WW's does alright with setting up their flaws when showing they won, but until they get bumped off, aside from Veruca, none of them really have much of a personality.

WW's Augustus Gloop just straight up does not have a character. The most he gets is cracking a joke about how much chocolate he's going to be eating and getting overexcited about a room where everything is edible and then... gets punished for drinking from a chocolate river in a room where everything else is fine to eat. Honestly I just feel bad for him

Charlie's Augustus Gloop absolutely nails him being a glutton. In just about every shot of him he's shoveling chocolate in his mouth and goes outright BEAST mode in the candy room grabbing everything he can and shoving it in his mouth and almost CHARGES into the river. His punishment feels a lot more warranted as he's also kind of a dick as well.

WW's violet has a somewhat competitive nature.. but not really aside from the gum record, which honestly comes off more as a silly game between her and a friend. Otherwise shes just kind of a smartass (I'd honestly rank her just behind Veruca. Overall just kind of... alright as a character.)

Charlie's Violet is EXTREMELY competitive, and thats reinforced throughout the film as she tries to suck up to Wonka to win the grand prize and has a very unhealthy dynamic her mother (reinforcing the core themes that the children are not at fault, its the parents for making their kids like this)

Veruca Salt's great in both movies. No complaints.

Now Mike Teevee. I have a lot to say about him.

WW's Mike Teevee is an extremely, EXTREMELY lukewarm take on the character. While he does make a couple references to violence things that happens on TV, he's just kind of an excited kid who gets overexcited becuase he loves TV and wants to be a part of that world and literally does.

Charlie's Mike Teevee is an absolutely AMAZING modern take on the character. Roald Dahl hated what TV did to children (Anyone who's read the book and seen how long the Oompa Loompa song is for him could probably guess that) and Mike is a great reflection of that. He's not stupid but his overindulgence in media has robbed him of his innocence and turned him into a cynical know-it-all, making him an amazing foil for both Charlie and Wonka as he constantly points out how all this whimsical fun makes no sense, and theres a clear parallel to anyone who's read the book or watched WW and were like "ackshully thats not how that works." He ultimately meets his fate due to his own hubris, thinking he's a genius for figuring out that the TV room is basically a teleporter, but really he's foolish for not realizing he's completely out of his element in such a fantastic setting.

As much as I love WW, the one thing that does not sit right with me is the Slugworth plotline. Charlie and his family live in extreme poverty to where even a loaf a bread is a luxury. He's essentially given the choice between making sure his family is taken care of financially for the rest of their lives, or... not doing so, so that some rich business tycoon can get even more rich. I mean sure, it would suck for Wonka's one good deed in making a candy specifically for poor kids being corrupted, but thats a lot to put on a child.

Charlie in WW is also alright as a character. Like he's a genuinely good kid, but it makes it a point that he wants to win more than anyone else, but you don't really get that feeling. Sure he has a passing glance at the factory and is very curious about it, but Charlie's Charlie does a lot more to show that the factory and Wonka has always been a part of his life as he's been basically living in its shadow. Chocolate is a rare treat for the bucket family, and you can tell just by the way they slowly nibble at the corner whenever they have one that they want to savor every crumb of it.

I don't think I even have to go over how bad the grandparents are in WW. Theres an entire subreddit about Grandpa Joe while the rest are just kind of silent props. Charlie's Grandpa Joe is a lot more fun, still young at heart despite how old and weak he's gotten, Grandma Joesephine is a sort of reflection of that and is very encouraging, Grandpa George is an AMAZING character despite his little screentime, being the more cynical one of the family while at the same time being very wise, advising Charlie to not squander a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for a bit of temporary financial security. Grandma Georgina is just sort of comic relief but is still genuinely sweet.

Charlie's father was killed off in WW, but in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory he plays a small but important role in the story, as despite him having what might be the most boring, mundane job you could think of still finds small joy in it, something that is clearly passed down to Charlie.

As a result of Charlie's father being dead in WW, his mother does a lot more heavy lifting in the story, being very cynical but in a way that makes it clear shes just trying to protect Charlie from the disappointment in the overwhelmingly likely scenario that he never finds the ticket, reminding him that his family will always be there for him regardless of what happens.

However, this means that Wonka ends up being a sort of father figure to Charlie which.. doesn't really work narratively. Wonka is a very whimsical person, but he's also not a great role model. As much shit as the plotline with Wonka's father tends to get, I think it really does make him a more interesting character and gives context for why he's so reclusive and disconnected from other people and the found family aspect of the ending really ties everything together nicely.

Overall, both movies are amazing in their own ways Willy Wonka for a more lighthearted comidic take of the story and Charlie for one that is much closer to Roald Dahl's original vision. Now wheres my adaptation of Great Glass elevator I wanna see Wonka talk about the genocide of the rest of the solar system.

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Chapter 2: Uninvited Guest

Narrated by Netga.

Narrator: Blinking neon lights lie haphazardly in the corner. Optical fiber wires are scattered around the ground like nets.

Narrator: It’s hard to sense the passage of time in the enclosed garage. When I wake up, it’s already noon.

Narrator: The music I forgot to turn off last night is still booming in my workshop. I down my canned lunch in one gulp.

Narrator: How I miss restaurant-made black truffle soup. If I don’t get any orders soon, I won’t be able to afford even canned food.

Narrator: As I check the monitors on the control panel, I turn on the holographic projector to see a bounty on the news.

Newscast: ...The digital stimulant is now available on the black market. If used in mecha battles, it’ll lead to cheating.

Newscast: This stimulant is capable of speedily increasing the reaction speed, willpower, and deadliness of mechas.

Newscast: The suspect is said to be a former advanced researcher in an unnamed institute on Ruins Island.

Newscast: His expertise in neural connection allows him to collect stimulated brainwaves from animal experiments.

Netga: Create neural connection data packs to sell to mecha battle participants? That’s cruel!

Newscast: The suspect is on the police’s wanted list for illegal stimulant trade and cheating in matches. A generous reward will be offered.

Netga: A generous reward?

Narrator: The reward amount scrolls past the bottom of the screen. I look closer, counting the zeros, and inhale sharply.

Narrator: If I have that much money... I can have truffle soup every day and update all the hardware and materials in my workshop!

Narrator: Too bad this reward will never be mine. I sigh, sinking back into the couch.

Narrator: Bang!

Narrator: From the control panel comes the sound of equipment falling over. I leap up from the sofa again.

Narrator: The sound of objects toppling over like dominoes follows. Is someone looking through my possessions? A thief, perhaps?

Narrator: If it’s a thief, he’ll definitely be disappointed. All I have are unwanted mechas.

Narrator: I still pick up my laser melding gun and head towards the source of the commotion with cautious steps to investigate.

Narrator: Shoving aside some stray parts under the window, I find a small bunny. Next to it, the power cord it broke is still fizzling.

Narrator: A bunny?

Narrator: I’ve never seen any fluffy, soft, live animal on this island before.

Narrator: The bunny stares up at me with innocent, round eyes, then bounces to the side and begins to explore my workshop.

Netga: Hey! You!

Narrator: The small bunny squirms a lot, but I still manage to catch it after chasing it all around the place and cornering it by a wall.

Narrator: It won’t stop kicking its legs in my arms, but still...

Narrator: So soft to the touch!

Narrator: I start running my hand down its body, and it soon calms down.

Narrator: It’s rare to see an actual live animal on this island. Perhaps this fluffy bunny is a good imitation?

Narrator: I lift it onto my work table and scan it for electronic signals.

Narrator: Nothing out of the ordinary. Except...

Narrator: The device beeps loudly. An unknown chip has been detected behind an ear of the bunny. It’s an encrypted data pack.

Narrator: Studying this cute intruder sitting on my table, I’m suddenly reminded of the news I just saw.

Narrator: Did this bunny escape from the lab where the animal experiments are performed?

Narrator: Heart rate picking up, I connect my devices to the Internet and begin tracing the source of the data.

Narrator: It’s not that hard, though it can take time.

Narrator: After hacking into the core system of the chip, I find an IP address and soon gain access to heaps of trade records.

Narrator: The money seems to go in and out of several forged accounts owned by one single person.

Narrator: After some decoding, a set of coordinates behind multiple faked identities finally appear like an island in a sea of data.

Netga: Locked onto the target!

Narrator: The coordinates point to a spot in the crowded streets in the city center. Perhaps it’s where the suspect’s lab is located.

Narrator: Night falls and colorful holograms light up the streets. I walk unnoticed behind the groups of mechas and pedestrians.

Narrator: As I weave through the crowd, I remember the series of zeros I saw on the news. Enticing rewards await me!

Narrator: I should get down to business tonight before anyone else can catch up!

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4