#and that's how I intend to reach 40

[mckeeks]

this was how I brought in the start of the year - entering my 30's by dressing up as an elite squad of Spider-people with my guys at Disneyland Paris and being absolute idiots... it felt pretty sh**king special 🕷🕸💕 ((every time we put the glasses on I ended up almost dead from laughing))

[getvalentined]

An open letter to @staff

I already submitted this to Support under "Feedback," but I'm sharing it here too as I don't expect it to get a response, and I feel like putting in out in public may be more effective than sending it off into the void.

The recent post on the Staff blog about changing tumblr to an algorithmic feed features a large amount of misinformation that I feel staff needs to address, openly and honestly, with information on where this data was sourced at the very least.

Claim 1: Algorithms help small creators.

This is false, as algorithms are designed to push content that gets engagement in order to get it more engagement, thereby assuring that the popular remain popular and the small remain small except in instances of extreme luck.

This can already be seen on the tumblr radar, which is a combination of staff picks (usually the same half-dozen fandoms or niche special interests like Lego photography) which already have a ton of engagement, or posts that are getting enough engagement to hit the radar organically. Tumblr has an algorithm that runs like every other socmed algorithm on the planet, and it will decimate the reach of small creators just like every other platform before it.

Claim 2: Only a small portion of users utilize the chronological feed.

You can find a poll by user @darkwood-sleddog here that at the time of writing this, sits at over 40 THOUSAND responses showing that over 96 percent of them use the chronological feed*. Claiming otherwise isn't just a misstatement, it's a lie. You are lying to your core userbase and expecting them to accept it as fact. It's not just unethical, it's insulting to people who have been supporting your platform for over a decade.

Claim 3: Tumblr is not easy to use.

This is also 100% false and you ABSOLUTELY know it. Tumblr is EXTREMELY easy to use, the issue is that the documentation, the explanations of features, and often even the stability of the service is subpar. All of this would be very easy for staff to fix, if they would invest in the creation of walkthroughs and clear explanations of how various site features work, as well as finally fixing the search function. Your inability to explain how your service works should not result in completely ignoring the needs and wants of your core long-term userbase. The fact that you're more willing to invest in the very systems that have made every other form of social media so horrifically toxic than in trying to make it easier for people to use the service AS IT WORKS NOW and fixing the parts that don't work as well speaks volumes toward what tumblr staff actually cares about.

You will not get a paycheck if your platform becomes defunct, and the thing that makes it special right now is that it is the ONLY large-scale socmed platform on THE ENTIRE INTERNET with a true chronological feed and no aggressive algorithmic content serving. The recent post from staff indicates that you are going to kill that, and are insisting that it's what we want. It is not. I'd hazard to guess that most of the dev team knows it isn't what we want, but I assume the money people don't care. The user base isn't relevant, just how much money they can bring in.

The CEO stated he wanted this to remain as sort of the last bastion of the Old Internet, and yet here we are, watching you declare you intend to burn it to the ground.

You can do so much better than this.

Response to the Update

Under the cut for readability, because everything said above still applies.

I already said this in a reblog on the post itself, but I'm adding it to this one for easy access: people read it that way because that's what you said.

Staff considers the main feed as it exists to be "outdated," to the point that you literally used that word to describe it, and the main goals expressed in this announcement is to figure out what makes "high-quality content" and serve that to users moving forward.

People read it that way because that is what you said.

*The final results of the poll, after 24 hours:

136,635 votes breaks down thusly:

An algorithm based feed where I get "the best of tumblr." @ 1.3% (roughly 1,776 votes)

Chronological feed that only features blogs I follow. @ 95.2% (roughly 130,077 votes)

This doesn't affect me personally. @ 3.5% (roughly 4,782 votes)

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 40

part 1 | part 39 | ao3

They're lying on their backs, Steve's head on Eddie's shoulder, Eddie running absent-minded fingers through Steve's hair. Led Zeppelin plays on low from the radio beside them, and the conversation ebbs and flows in sleepy bursts of disjointed thought. Talking just to talk. Because they like it; because they can.

"...Did you see Wheeler almost eat shit in the paint aisle this morning?"

"We should paint some stars on my ceiling. Make 'em glow in the dark..."

"God, what I would not give for more pizza."

"Who even eats cold pizza?"

Eddie shifts beneath him after a while, sitting up to bounce his legs and get the blood flowing again. With his weight leaned back on his hands, Steve can't help but notice the long line of his torso. Everything on display through the thin undershirt: the smattering of dark ink, the outline of his ribs, the cut of his slim waist. Steve wants to touch him.

"You know," Eddie says, surveying the empty room, the vinyl glinting in the lamp light, "it's really not half bad for a bunch of kids who thought they were gonna be hanging ornaments all day." He knocks his knee against Steve's leg. "I'd say you're well on your way to making this mobile house a mobile home."

Steve snorts at that, and Eddie pinches playfully at his side until the snort turns into a really undignified laugh and Steve rolls in on himself, curling toward Eddie, begging for mercy.

"You want to tell me what brought all this on?" Eddie asks. His voice is quiet and welcoming, eyes sparkling with some gentle offer of reprieve. The first rest stop sign after a hundred mile stretch of empty road.

Steve's mouth works; opens and closes and opens again, like it'll prompt his voice to sound or his brain to figure out the words. He still doesn't know how to explain — the fear, the paranoia, the way this place was starting to cling to him like black mold. "Just..." he shrugs. "Needed it, I guess."

Eddie gives him a long look. Unwavering and piercing; there's more pus in the wound that he's trying to lance, but he doesn't seem interested in drawing blood tonight.

He releases Steve from his gaze and goes back to his casual stretching — rolling his neck, popping his shoulders, shaking out his legs, his ankles, his feet — and then he gasps "Steve!" in a delighted tone that Steve does not care for at all. Usually means he’s about to get teased within an inch of his life.

"Hmm?" Steve lifts his head to look.

Eddie’s wiggling his right foot, drawing attention to the outer edge of his borrowed sock. "Is that a hole I see?"

Steve follows his line of sight, and sure enough, there's the smallest little tear by Eddie's pinky toe. “Oh, fuck off,” Steve rolls his eyes, “you can barely even see that.”

Eddie spreads his toes out wide, making the hole more obvious. "My, my, my,” he tuts, shaking his head with a big, disappointed sigh.

"You're such an asshole,” Steve mutters. Eddie's beaming; Steve flips him off.

"Well congrats, baby boy,” he drawls like a fucking pest, “now you're officially trailer trash."

"Hey!" Steve’s not sure if he likes that. Makes him blush to his ears; makes something sour roll in his gut.

Unfortunately it also kind of makes his dick twitch.

"Oh?" Eddie leers. His eyes dart to Steve's crotch, and then he shifts so he's hovering over Steve with Steve flat on his back, face on fire, pulse kicking hard. A vein throbs in his inner thigh. "Don't worry, Stevie." Eddie bends to nip at his jaw. "I meant it as a compliment."

"How is that a compliment?" Steve wants to sound annoyed. Is annoyed. But Eddie's skimming a light hand up his side, barest pressure that leaves a trail of tingling warmth in its wake, so the words come out more breathy than he intends.

"Because," Eddie whispers. Steve can feel his smile pressed against his skin. Eddie kisses up his jawline until he reaches his ear; mouths at the lobe and sucks it between his teeth, a sharp bite that makes Steve hiss. "All my favorite things are."

Steve bucks under him. "Trash?" he asks, breath catching.

Eddie's tongue traces his ear. "Mhmm."

His hand wanders to the hem of Steve's shirt, worming his fingers underneath, tickling the trail of hair below Steve’s belly button as he explains that all his favorite things are second-hand. Recycled and discarded items he’s restored with loving care.

Steve’s breath goes harsh and ragged, and he tries not to think about how that might apply to him.

Discarded.

Restored.

Favorite.

Maybe even—

He can’t let himself think the word.

—

part 41!

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[ktgoodmorning]

Broken

(love language series- acts of service)

Patri Guijarro x platonic!reader

Inspired by the love language acts of service- Patri and reader are best friends and roommates, Patri takes care of reader after she gets dumped.

Decided to go for platonic love in this one and try to mix it up a bit. I maybe hate how it turned out though I can't decide. Any feedback is greatly appreciated! I will say I managed to keep it under 3k and slightly less fluffy (only slightly) so it's baby steps in the right direction.

The rest of the love language series:

Perfect. A.Bonmati x reader. Quality time.

Silent communications. M.Leon. Physical touch.

Let me spoil you. C.Coll x reader. Giving and receiving gifts.

You know I love you. A.Putellas. Words of Affirmation

Masterlist.

You were jolted awake by a sudden pounding on your bedroom door. Still half asleep, you reached for your phone to check the time, hoping the person knocking would go away. 

“You better be up, we’re gonna be late!” of course it was your roommate, who else would be at your bedroom door? As soon as you heard her yelling, you realized that you hadn’t set your alarm and had 40 minutes until training started. All you could do was let out a big sigh and collapse back onto your pillow. Your chest tightened and you brought your hands up to cover your face. How could this happen? You couldn’t afford to be late for training but you also couldn’t imagine going. The idea of seeing your teammates, being out in the hot sun, and performing at your best sounded like an absolute nightmare right now. You squeezed your eyes shut tight, doing everything you could to hold in your tears and block out the horrible night you had just had. 

Patri yelled again, “(y/n) I swear to god you are not making us late, if you don’t answer me I’m coming in there!” You ignored her as you continued to lie in bed, paralyzed by your emotions. Your continued silence is what gave her the go ahead to burst into your room, “how are you still asleep, I swear if you-”. She froze as soon as she saw the state you were in. Your hands still covered your face as your body shook, crying hard. Your best friend immediately softened and rushed to your side. “Hey, you’re okay, what’s wrong?” She was starting to panic slightly.

You and Patri had been close from the moment you signed for Barcelona. When you first moved here, she had offered to let you stay in one of her spare rooms while you got settled and found a place of your own. You never intended to make it a permanent thing but as the two of you became closer, you both decided you may as well just split the rent and stay. You liked having each other’s company. In the three years you had been friends, the two of you had seen each other at your absolute worst and Patri knew that this was about what that looked like. 

You just shook your head at her, not wanting to talk about it. Somehow, your best friend took that to mean that her yelling at you to wake up is what set you off. “I didn’t mean to yell, okay? I was just trying to be loud enough to wake you up.” She spoke softly and ran her hand gently down your arm, trying to comfort you. “I’m not mad at you, I just knew you’re usually up by now and I didn’t want to leave without you or let you oversleep,” she spoke quicker than usual, not understanding how you had gotten so worked up. 

You shook your head again at her, hoping to communicate that it wasn’t her fault. “Is it something else?” she questioned you, confused. Her hand was still running gently up and down your arm, trying to bring your attention back to her. You tried to focus on your breathing in an attempt to calm down but let out some hiccups instead. All you could do was nod, trying your best to answer her question. “Here, drink some water, you’re okay,” she whispered, “you’re okay,” she passed you the water that you always had on your night stand and pulled you into her arms so you were sitting up. The water managed to help you regain awareness of your surroundings, still hiccuping slightly between sips. Patri continued to hold you, rubbing your back lightly while your breaths finally started to slow. You pulled away from her as you wiped away your tears with the sleeve of your hoodie. Finally, you were able to take a much needed deep breath. 

When you looked up at your best friend again, she was holding out a tissue as well as a ponytail for you. You gave her a small smile as you grabbed the ponytail and immediately pulled your hair into a sloppy bun on top of your head. Only Patri knew you well enough to know that your hair would be a massive source of overstimulation for you when you were this upset. It was only after you had taken her tissue and aggressively wiped at your remaining tears that you realized what time it was, “Pats, you’re gonna be late.” She could barely hear you due to how quietly you had spoken. 

“I already texted Alexia, don’t worry about it. I’m not gonna leave you like this.” She looked up at you, barely registering her words. Your eyes had gone blurry, staring off into space. Your thoughts raced. “Hey,” she moved her head directly into your line of sight to get your attention back. “What’s going on, (y/n/n)? What happened?” 

You let out another sigh, looking up at the ceiling in an attempt to keep more tears from falling. Somehow you managed to speak even quieter than before, “Leah broke up with me.” Patri didn’t think she was hearing you right, especially given the volume of your voice.

 You and Leah had been together for years and she knew how happy you were with her. That couldn’t have been what you said. Her eyebrows furrowed deeply and she leaned in closer to you, ��what was that?” She definitely must have heard you wrong, there was no way. 

You spoke much louder this time, pushing through your voice cracks “Please, don’t make me say it again.” For the first time this morning, you finally made eye contact with your best friend, watching how her face completely dropped. 

Patri pulled you into a tight hug, “oh my God, I’m so sorry.” She felt more tears seeping into her shirt. Her heart absolutely broke for you.  “I’ll tell Ale you’re sick, you don’t need to worry about going to training today.” 

After a few more minutes of crying, you pulled away slowly, and nodded slightly at your best friend. Not going to training did help take some weight off your shoulders. Using your sweatshirt, you reached up to wipe away at your tears, sniffling again. It was then that Patri noticed the sweatshirt you were wearing- a red Arsenal hoodie from your now ex-girlfriend. “(y/n y/l/n)! Do not tell me that you’re really wearing her sweatshirt right now!” There was a slight smile on her face, making sure you knew that she wasn’t actually mad at you. You just shrugged and she watched your eyes go out of focus as you, once again, got lost in your head.

 This hoodie had been your go-to when you were in need of comfort. It was habit for you at this point to reach for it anytime you were upset. Deep down, you knew she was right that this was only contributing to your heartbreak. You suddenly sat up taller, broken from your haze. You grabbed the bottom hem of the red fabric and immediately ripped it off, before slouching back into yourself, left in just a sports bra. Patri shook her head, slightly amused at your sudden realization. You were quiet for a while before speaking up, “at least now if I give it back it’s got my snot all over the sleeves from crying.” 

Patri laughed and shook her head slightly at your attempt at a joke. She was amazed at how you tried to joke around even when you were clearly distraught. It was encouraging to her that some part of you was able to make light of the situation, even just slightly. “Why don’t we get you up, I think it’ll make you feel better?” When you nodded at her with slightly more conviction as you previously had, she stood up and offered you her hand to help you up. “We’re gonna get you some food and get you ready for the day, and then I’ve gotta go. I don’t think I’m lucky enough to get out of the entire day’s worth of training.” She shot you a smile as she talked in hopes of lightening your mood. 

Patri would have much rather stayed with you to make sure you were alright and you both knew it. Unfortunately as one of the captains, she had a much harder time trying to get herself out of training. She knew that if she just left, you would’ve continued to lay in bed and cry, likely until she got home later tonight. By getting you out of your room and ready for the day, she knew it’d put you in a better headspace while she was gone. 

As soon as she pulled you up to stand next to her, she pulled you in for another hug. You loosely wrapped your arms around your best friend. It felt like your head had gone empty, too tired to care about any of it. You were numb. It seemed like the better option than continuing to cry. Patri noticed, of course. She noticed how you didn’t make much of an effort to hug her back. She noticed how no more tears fell onto her shoulder. She noticed how you were silent again, staring into space. All she could do was go forward with her plan and hope that it helped. 

“Do you want to pick out some clothes or do you want me to?” She looked at you for confirmation as she walked over to your closet. 

“You can.” You trusted her enough to know what you’d want at the moment and you were right. She returned to you with a matching sweatsuit set, exactly what you would’ve picked for yourself. Patri held out the clothes to you, making sure you approved of them. 

Once you grabbed them from her, she gave you a small smile, proud of herself for knowing what to pick. “You get dressed and brush your teeth, I’m gonna go make you something to eat, okay?” 

You nodded and she turned to leave your room. “Hey Patri,” she turned back around and saw that you had a pout plastered across your face. Her eyes squinted at you suspiciously, knowing that this wasn’t the face you made when you were actually upset. “Would you make me pancakes?” you had to really work to control the smirk that you were trying to hide, giving her your best puppy-dog eyes. Patri smiled and rolled her eyes at you, once again glad to see your personality shine through. “Pleeaasee,” you whined at her, pushing your bottom lip out even further. You figured if you were gonna be sad, you might as well get pancakes out of it. 

Patri started to laugh at your antics, “I’m way too nice to you, mi amiga.” 

“Hey quit complaining, I’m the one who has to be here alone and sad all day,” you were still joking around but the heartache was thick in your voice. Apparently your latest strategy of pretending nothing happened was already failing you. 

The sympathetic look in Patri’s eyes was just another reminder of how much you both knew you were struggling. “I’ll make you your pancakes, chica, you go get dressed.” 

You nodded again and turned back for your room. It felt like a weight was placed on your shoulders as another wave of sadness washed over you. You downed some more of your water and fought to keep your breathing steady. The last thing you wanted is to keep Patri away from training even longer and you knew if you had another breakdown that she’d have a hard time leaving you here. You squeezed your eyes shut and tensed all your muscles, relaxing them as you let out a deep breath. It seemed to do the job for the time being which allowed you to force yourself to get dressed.

 As you did so, you appreciated Patri’s pick in clothes for you. The joggers and sweatshirt combo was perfectly comfy and the fact that it matched made you feel slightly put together. She knew that you always felt better when you looked cute. When you got changed, you appreciated how right she was. You did feel slightly better. The brokenness was still there, but there was at least a small glimmer of hope inside you. 

Once you were dressed, you brushed your teeth and went to join Patri in the kitchen. You sat down at the table just as she was putting your pancakes on a plate for you. Music was playing from her phone as she passed you the plate. While you started eating, your best friend started dancing around you to some of your favorite songs in an attempt to cheer you up. You giggled as she got more and more ridiculous, determined to make you laugh. 

Hearing that she succeeded she had stopped dancing to sit with you. You realized how grateful you were for your best friend. As much as you were heartbroken, her constant care for you settled your thoughts slightly. It put you at ease knowing that she’d be there to keep you from drowning in your own sadness. You set down your fork and met your best friend’s gaze, “thank you Patri. Seriously, I really appreciate all this.” 

She grabbed your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, “no problem, chica, you’ve done the same for me many times.” She shook her head at you slightly, trying to brush off that it was no big deal to her, it was just what she did. When she pushed her chair back and stood up, you sunk down slightly, realizing she was about to leave you to go to training. Obviously she had to leave. You knew this was coming and you needed to get over it. You’re an adult. You could handle being alone. 

But Instead of going to the door like you expected, she came to stand directly behind you. “Do you want me to braid your hair before I leave?” 

Your eyes lit up and you suddenly sat up straighter, “Really? Do you even have time?” 

Patri chuckled lightly at your excitement, “probably not but I’ll go quick.” 

You settled back in your chair as you felt her gently pulling your hair out of the bun that was sitting on top of your head. “I’ll make it up to you while you’re gone, I’ll get everything cleaned up around here, I promise.” You felt bad how much she had done for you this morning when she was still missing training for you, just to braid your hair. 

“(y/n), you’re missing training so you can rest, you don’t need to worry about anything else and you definitely don’t need to make it up to me, okay? Just take a day to take care of yourself and I’ll be home later.” she tied off your braid just as she finished her mini-lecture. You nodded at her even though you had no plans of resting. Patri turned to you and gave you a tight hug again, “Are you gonna be okay while I’m gone?” 

You nodded into her shoulder hesitantly. You didn’t want her to worry about you but if you were being honest with yourself, you were nervous to be alone for that long. Patri could feel your hesitation and cupped your face in her hands, “text me if you need anything, alright?” You nodded again and told her goodbye as she left. 

After she went to training, you buried yourself in a pile of pillows on the couch. You had put on a reality show in hopes of distracting yourself. It only halfway worked, you were continuously getting lost in your thoughts, letting the sadness take over you. At one point, you found yourself going through your phone looking at pictures of you and Leah. That’s what sent you into another downward spiral. Hot tears streamed down your face as you struggled to catch your breath again. You didn’t even process what was going on. All you knew was that you must’ve cried yourself to sleep somewhere along the way. 

~

For the second time that day, you were woken up by your best friend. This time instead of yelling at your bedroom door, she was gently shaking your shoulder. You let out a tired groan as you opened your eyes again, “What time is it, why are you home?” 

Patri laughed at your groggy state and the way you tried to stretch out on your small couch, “Training’s done, I actually got home a while ago. You must have had quite the nap, chica.” 

As you pushed yourself up to be sitting next to her, you realized that you had done none of the things you planned on- basically sleeping and crying all day. “Oh my god, Pats I didn’t even get the kitchen cleaned up! I swear I meant to, I’ll go do it right now.” You rushed to your feet, filled with guilt that you had done nothing to contribute to your household. As you did so, she grabbed your hand and pulled you back down next to her. 

“No, it’s okay. I already did it when I got home, don’t worry about it. Why don’t we just order some food and put on a movie or something, yeah?” She raised her eyebrows waiting for an answer even though both of you knew you could never turn down that offer. You sunk back into her side while she put on one of your favorite movies. You couldn’t believe that someone was willing to do all this for you, just because you were having a rough day. You realized for a moment that maybe you’d be more okay than you thought you’d be.

The rest of the love language series:

Perfect. A.Bonmati x reader. Quality time.

Silent communications. M.Leon. Physical touch.

Let me spoil you. C.Coll x reader. Giving and receiving gifts.

You know I love you. A.Putellas. Words of Affirmation

Masterlist.

Feedback and requests are always welcome! :)

[shidouryusm]

Soooooo sami 👉👈 since we are both Hawks girlies we are in agreement that he has the most sensitive wings right? The kind that would quiver and tremble when he cums and if you touch them at any point he's just instantly hard... and if you grip them whilst jerking him off his hips will buck off the bed and he whines. Right???? 🫣

im so sorry it took me this long to finish it. i promise i intended to make them fuck but I got carried away into the plot iiufbiufhwjf. but you ask and i serve baby.

Hawks may be the one with wings but it was you who made him fly

Hawks x f!reader

synopsis: keigo arrives from a hellish day at work. as his sweet little girlfriend you find a way to relieve him

minors DNI. 18+ content.

word count: 2.4k (it was supposed to be a drabble...sigh)

content: hero au, established relationship, female anatomy!reader, switch!hawks,a little subby hawks but he switches at the end, handjobs, blowjobs, implied penetrative sex at the end, teasing, a bit of edging, titplay, playing with balls, cumeating, idk lmk what i missed.

a.n- well this was nasty and fun to write. this is my first time writing about him so do let me know how do you like it. not proofread well im v tired its 3 am :((

6:07 pm. The tokyo skyline has painted itself in the inkish blue, the little canvas of twilight already dwindling away while you stand in the middle of the balcony taking it all. you look up into the horizon, eyes hoping to catch a speck of red and yellow to appear that will sweep you out of your waiting game. 

Keigo was supposed to arrive atleast 40 mins prior, considering he gets off of duty today relatively earlier than other days. Promising an evening reserved to enjoy the pacificity of being with you – away from the worldly issues. 

He usually glides through the air, slowly landing on this very balcony, pressing a fleeting kiss on your lips even before his feet touches the ground and stumbles you both inside the house. According to him – it keeps things interesting. whatever he meant. you chuckle lightly thinking about that. 

Your trance of thoughts almost missed out the door knob turning and instead of the grandeur entrance of your boyfriend like some flying peter parker he is, you watch him sluggishly drag his body in. 

“to what do I owe such anticlimatic entrance, darling?”, you ask amusedly, walking inside the house to greet him which soon diffuses as you realise the dark shadows under his eyes and his face worn out by a hundred years. he looks beat up. 

“baby?…”, you voice in worry.

Keigo looks at you, watching him with a hint of concern playing in your eyes. you look so cute like that, he thinks. eyebrows squinted together, head slightly tilted and lips jutted together in confusion on why he’s staring at you like that. your skin looking soft and as tempting to get a feel of, decorated with a purple satin loungewear. 

Keigo takes a step forward, closing the distance. your hands reach his face, stroking from the little stubble in his chin to the swell of his cheek. he melts in your touch, his hands finding your waist and pulling you against his body. Keigo hides his face in your neck, his breath comes out in short huffs, tickling you in the crevice between your shoulder and head. 

“It’s been heck of a day”, he mumbles. pity courses through you when you hear his strained voice. You comb through his slightly unruly locks, scratching the base of his scalp while he holds you flush against his body , letting a hum right against your skin.

“awe..made you work a little too hard, baby?” you coo. One hand still raking through his hair while the other snakes around his waist, going upwards till it brushes against the base of his red, bright feathers.

The feel of your hands against his feathers jolts keigo up, a small grunt leaving his lips, still pressed against your neck. your fingers trail over his back, ghosting over his feathers before you carress them again. 

This time,a small, breathy moan escapes from keigo. his hands on your lower back pulls you in— as if you’re not already just a layer away from being inside his skin. 

You smirk, his reactions turning the cogs in your mind to play with him a bit.

“are you sensitive there, keigo?” you asked amusedly, your finger circling the base, right where his feathers sprout out. his face is hidden against your neck but you could still make out the hint of redness that spreads over the nape. 

Keigo pushes himself against you, the movement causing you to feel his clothed bulge rub against your naked thigh, you let out a soft sigh. you could make out the hardness of his cock even with the clothing.

His dick strains against you and what a good girlfriend like you would do in this situation—of course help him out in his little issue.

You pull him off of you, his eyes are drooping. you press a quick kiss on his lips before looping your arms around his neck. 

You feel his eyes glide downwards, taking in your figure. A flimsy tank top hugs your upper body in the most alluring way possible, your nipples hardened and poking out of the fabric like two peaks, making Keigo’s cock jump in his pants. The matching shorts rides up your thighs, exposing the full expanse of the plush skin under his golden eyes. you look so comfortable…and delectable. 

“should I help you out a little? you look like you could use some” you say, a little giggle passing through your lips. his eyes are still glued on your body and you take this opportunity to slightly tug the base of his feathers, bringing his attention back to you. Keigo hisses at the sensation, his face morphing into a temporary state of pleasure whenever your fingers come in contact with his supple feathers.

“Mhmmmm”, you hear him hum before his lips clash against yours. You stand there, in the middle of your hallway as keigo makes out with you, his lips languidly playing the push or pull with your lips. 

His hand reach down the back of your thigh and he hooks your whole leg around his waist, the position allowing him to rub his cock directly against your core. You moan into the kiss. Wanting more. But most importantly, making him feel wanted even more.

You push him towards the bedroom, both of your linked bodies stumbling under the low lights of the hallway till you reach there.

His body is manhandled onto the mattress, your figure hovering over his, as you keep on planting kisses all over his face, reaching his jaw. your mouth tilts against his while your tongue presses flat on his skin, savouring his taste. Keigo grabs your hips, needing something to ground himself from the sudden dominance you’re showing – not that he’s complaining at all.

“fuck baby…you’re so hot like that”, his voice raspy and laced with yearn. You hum against his jawline, your hands tugging on the tight compression shirt he has, wanting them off his body. 

He obliges. Your eyes drink the way his muscles taut while he pulls the fabric off himself and tosses it somewhere you could care any less about. Your hands lay against his pecks, as your mouth finds his once again. Keigo deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue inside the cavern of your mouth, a dribble of spit escaping from your shared mouth down your chin.

Your hands reaches towards his feathers and your hands softly massages the ends of it, making keigo moan in your mouth. 

“fuck…this will make me-” keigo squirms a little,  his mouth dancing more fiercely with yours. his hands squeezes your ass, making your clothed core grind in circular motions over his crotch, multiplying the sensation by tenfolds in Keigo's and your body.

“Cum? just by playing with your feathers? didn’t know you were that sensitive keigo.” you tug the ruffled plumage and Keigo almost bust a nut. his head falls backwards from the treatment and his hips inadvertently buck against your core. Your pussy lips are planted right over his dick and the way he thrusts himself upwards makes you pulsate. 

You look at him majestically submitting to you, so bare and vulnerable. It stirs a different feeling inside you. 

Top.2 hero for the world yet so weak in the knees for you. Wings so fierce yet so tamed under your touch.

“d-don’t get too ahead, you’ll regret it, darling” you hear keigo warn in between the kisses, his voice still broken and hoarse. 

“oh really? sure.” you use both your hands in work. one tugs the feathers, a little rougher than previous times, while the other hand palms his cock, rubbing the palm of your hand against the head of his cock. Keigo moans unashamedly, having his sensitive feathers played like that.

 “doesn’t look like it though” his little moans vibrates against your skin

That’s what you love about keigo. He may act tough and smug but will not be slightest bit of ashamed to vocalise his feelings during sex. Starting from little grunts to lewd moans – he drawls all of them. The little shake in his voice makes your pussy throb painfully, wanting nothing more than to sink yourself in him and drown yourself in pleasure while holding him tightly within. 

Your hands trail upwards towards the belt of his pants, peeling them out of his skin. His cock is swollen, the veins roped around the shaft popping angrily, hard as it sprung up, slamming against his stomach. The sight already enough for you to gush your arousal on his lap. 

you wrap your hands around his base, feeling his cock twitch upon the feel of your skin. Keigo tenses with the touch, exhaling audible breaths. His hands reach your shoulders, dropping the strap of the thin tank top. 

He could see your tits slightly jiggle from the movements and his mouth wanted nothing more than to wrap itself around your pert buds. 

You move your hands in rhythm – twisting and squeezing your hand in a way that he absolutely loves. A move that always gets him off. Your hands reaches the top of his shaft, his tip is angled beautifully, pre-cum falling of the slit endlessly. You run your thumb against the skin, pressing into the little slit. 

Keigo hisses again, his hands reflexively grabs your hair and tugs it. 

“F-fuck, don’t…”

you smirk at his reaction, smearing the pre-cum around the cockhead, reaching down the frenulum. while your hands work its wonders, his deft ones tugs your tank top down, releasing your tits from the confines. He kneads the soft mounds…pinching and rolling the nipples with his thick fingers.

The whole scene is lewd and pornographic – both of your hands working against each other to pleasure. Yours on his cock, stroking up and down in a steady rythm, occasionally squeezing the tip while his finds your tits to massage and jiggle it under his palm. Straight out of a sex tape.

You fondle his balls. It feels hot and heavy on your hands while you massage them. his muscle tenses, fighting every nerve to not spill his release yet. Stretching the seconds to imprint the feel of your hands. He reaches your shorts, his hands glides under them and reaching your cunt. 

“You’re so wet, baby. Seeing me like this gets you off?” he uses two of his fingers to separate the lips, his middle finger stroking the slit of your pussy all the way to the bundled nerve. he flicks it with one hand, earning a whimper from you. Keigo might get tamed under you momentarily but he still has the power to keep you on your toes as well.

His hands on you feels like heaven but you had a mission to accomplish. You get off his lap, kneeling right in front of him. Resting your hands on his thighs, you sink your mouth in his cock — sending keigo on the brink of orgasm right then and there.

“Oh shit…baby wait…” you move your mouth, your tongue kitten licks the head and moves down. His hands rest on the sides of your head while you bob un and down on his cock. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby. Look at your feathers all ruffled and disheveled. So so pretty.” 

Keigo could feel his heart hammering at your words. He always thought his love for you had reached the threshold way above the earth but you just had to prove it wrong. Looking at you gazing him with the doe eyes, your hands working deft magic to play with him on the edge of release, you were indeed the one with wings. Wings from the above. A descendent of heaven tailored specifically for him. 

“What a perfect little baby I got” he muses. You lay your tongue flat against his shaft, engulfing the whole length in your mouth, the ends of it reaching your throat. Your nose tickling with the untrimmed golden pubic hair decorating his pelvis. You tilt your mouth sideways, sucking more of him while your hands under plays with his balls. They twitch under your hands, begging for the release. You remove your mouth after licking the entirety of his length, his pre-cum smeared sheen on your lips. His wings flap and wraps around you. The sharp ends of the feather trailing the naked body of yours. 

You smirk devilishly before grabbing a handful of his feathers, tugging it from the ends, sending a trail of shock right to his spine which gushed down between his legs. 

Keigo watches you wink at him before licking your bottom lips to get a taste of his pre-cum. The sight breaking the straw that was holding him. With a final twitch, keigo cums. Strings of white rope decorates your palm while you work him through the release, occasionally licking his heavy cum from his opening. 

Keigo feels lightheaded. His body still tingling from the sensation of your hands and mouth. He looks at you giggling, your eyes crinkled with amusement and satisfaction while you lick a handful of his cum off your hand. Fucking hell. 

“do you feel better, babe?” you massage his thighs in hopes of taking care of him. He pulls you back into the bed. A quick kiss pressed against your lips — “well you did take a great care of me, I can’t deny. Certainly the best part about my day” his nose brushed against your cheek and you felt like your heart bloomed a batch of roses, specifically for him. 

“Im glad I could be of help, darling” your hand rakes his hair and you kiss his cheek. You feel his hands wrap around your waist, gilding down to the dips of your hips. 

“thank you so much baby. but…” Keigo turns you around in a split second, grabbing your hips to arch your back. Your ass hiked up in the air for him. His quick fingers tug the elastic of your shorts, peeling it off your skin, displaying your ass in full glory. 

He grabs a handful in his hands, spreading them apart to peek at your pussy lips, slick with your arousal, the gaping hole contracting. waiting for its turn to fucking bust.  

“wouldn’t it be a shame if I didn’t return the favour to you?” Keigo drags his length over the stripe of your pussy. pushing the tip inside slightly, drawing a moan from you.

It’s gonna be a long, fucking night.

a.n.2-> i just saw that he lives in a public security supply room LMAOAOAOAO more reasons for me to put him in a high rise penthouse where he fucks and lives to his heart’s content.

tagging @pastelle-rabbit because i promised her (here you go sweets), @stsgluver (my baby), if you want to be in my taglist hmu!!!

[daisynik7]

if you're still taking requests, i have a severe need for kishibe being a slutty old boyfriend to reader, doing unspeakably filthy things while calling reader "kid, princess" and all manner of cutesy pet names

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

cw: age gap (reader is in her 20s, Kishibe is late 40s/early 50s), established relationship, sex toy use, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl, doggy style), vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, face-riding, sex without a condom, creampie, cum-eating, multiple orgasms, pet names. 

Word Count: ~1.6k

Author’s Note: Hi mephisto! Thank you for the Kishibe request, was waiting for another to come in! Hope you like this one, been wanting to write a piece with a sex toy and thought this would be fitting for it! Let me know what you think. :) 

You’ve never dated an older man before. Well, not this old. But the thing about Kishibe is that the two of you mesh so well, the age gap never seems that drastic. Your relationship is still relatively fresh; six months, if you count the first few weeks of hooking up, no strings attached. Eventually, you both agreed to give it a real shot, seeing each other exclusively. There are, however, a few moments where your differences show, and the two of you have the opportunity to learn from each other.

Kishibe comes over to your apartment to spend the night after a delicious dinner at your favorite restaurant. This is usually how your dates go: a lovely meal at a fancy establishment, a bit of wine is consumed, then sex at either his place or yours. It’s a tried-and-true formula that never fails to satisfy. Though, tonight, you decide to spice it up just a little. Show the old man a trick or two up your sleeve. 

In your bed, both of you already naked and kissing, you reach behind you towards your drawer, blindly feeling for one of your sex toys. He pulls away to look at you, glancing at your hand. “What are you doing?” he asks, slightly confused.

You smirk, making sure it’s the right toy in your grasp: a small, pink suction vibrator, one you just purchased specifically with him in mind. Something you’re sure the old man hasn’t used in the bedroom before. You wiggle it your hand. “I want to show you something.”

He raises a brow at you, curious. “Go on.”

You splay your thighs, displaying your pussy for him. He licks his lips, face drifting closer to your arousal until you stop him, palm pressed to his forehead. “I want you to watch me play with myself first.”

The small bump in his throat bobs, swallowing hard at your suggestion. His cock is stiff against his abdomen, clearly turned on by this idea. Still, he argues. “Don’t you want me to eat out that pretty pussy instead?”

You click your tongue disapprovingly at him, shaking your head. “Looks like you’ve got a lot to learn, old man.”

He chuckles at this, leaning back to kneel in front of you, reading for whatever you have in store for him. “Alright. Show me what you got, kid.” 

While sex with Kishibe has been nothing short of fantastic, there’s always room to spice it up, especially when it comes to foreplay. Your boyfriend has admitted to you before that he’s not well-versed when it comes to sex toys. He prefers a more old-fashioned approach, only because that’s what he’s used to. But he’s never been opposed to it either, being more than willing to try. Again at the drawer, you retrieve a bottle of lube, squirting a small drop onto your fingers, rubbing it around your bud. He watches carefully, intending to gain something from this little lesson you’re giving him. 

Properly lubricated, you press on the button, the toy vibrating loudly in your hand. There’s a small grin on his face as you position the suction on your clit, sealing it against your skin. It doesn’t take long for you to falter from the sensation, slick already leaking from your throbbing pussy. He’s practically salivating watching you, spit gathering on his tongue, desperate to taste you, to dip his fingers in your glistening cunt. He wraps his fist around his hard cock, stroking himself to the sight of you. “Come on my fingers, princess. Please.”

You click once on the button, increasing the intensity a level, nodding at him. He slips his middle and ring finger inside you, curling at the tips to stimulate your sweet spot. You throw you head back, indulging in the sensation of his digits pumping in and out of you while the toy remains latched to your clit, sucking until it’s swollen. He’s enjoying it a little too much, seeing you swell around his fingers, coated in your sticky mess. His other hand continues to work his cock, precum oozing at the tip, ready to bust any second. Your old, slutty boyfriend is always quick to come, which might be a dealbreaker for some. But what he lacks in patience, he makes up for in stamina. The old geezer nuts fast, but is hard again almost instantly, ready for round two, three, even four, lasting longer each time. 

He strokes himself, spurting his hot load onto the sheets, grunting. You come soon after, his fingers squelching deep inside you, the vibrator still buzzing. His eyes widen, watching you squirt all over his hand. “Would you look at that? Fuck, that’s sexy. You’re a nasty little thing, aren’t you?” He pulls out, a shiny string still attached as he slides his fingers into his mouth, sucking off your slick. 

“Want your cock now,” you tell him, setting the toy aside, rubbing your middle finger on your slippery bud. 

“How do you want me, angel?” He crawls towards you to kiss you, nipping at your bottom lip. “I’ll give it to you however you want.”

Out of breath from excitement, you huff, “Want to ride you.”

He smiles, pleased to see how fucked out you already are for him. He lays back against the pillows, craning his neck, beckoning you to his lap. “Yeah? Go ahead. Ride this cock. Show this old man how it’s done.”

You straddle him, rubbing your wet pussy along his shaft before you slide it in completely. Without wasting a second, you thrust your ass back and forth onto him, fucking yourself on his hard cock. He rests his hands behind his head, watching your risqué performance, tits bouncing along with your hips, expression hazy with lust, drool leaking from the corners of your lips. Your hands squeeze around your breasts, pinching the peaked nipples between your fingers. He never gets tired of seeing this side of you, unraveling above him. Because of him. 

An idea pops in his head. He stretches is arm out, grabbing for the vibrator at his side. He turns it on, clicking it twice for a more intense setting. It buzzes in his hand as he reaches towards you, placing the suction at your clit. You moan, overstimulated from earlier, spasming from the contact. At your reaction, he presses the vibrator even harder against you, relishing the way you twitch from the sensation. “Fuck, that’s it, isn’t it, sweetheart? That’s the spot, huh? Squeezing me so fucking tight.”

“Yes, right there! Oh fuck!” you cry out, bouncing harder on his lap. Soon, you’re coming once more, sweat beading on your forehead, limbs wobbly, aching from arousal. He tosses the vibrator aside, not bothering to turn it off, immediately lifting you from off his cock and up towards his head. “Ride my face, kitten. Don’t you dare hold back.”

Too fucked out to argue, you follow his orders, spreading your legs over him, gripping the headboard. He pulls you down to him, eating you out sloppily while you straddle his face, swiping his tongue side to side. Smothering himself in your juices, mouth moving relentlessly on you. He doesn’t stop when you thrash above him, overly sensitive with him latched around your swollen clit, desperate to drown in your pussy. He lifts you off to smatter a thick glob of spit on your bud, smearing it with his tongue. “This old man can still teach you something, huh?” He peers up at you, smirking, flicking his tongue against you. 

You meet his gaze, nodding erratically, too dumb to answer in a coherent sentence, rocking your hips against him. “That’s it, angel. Squirt on my face,” he muffles, sliding his thumb along your slit, slipping it in. He surrounds your clit, sucking hard, squeezing it between his puckered lips. You come for him, whining as he slurps at your sopping cunt. He wriggles out from underneath you, giving you a light smack on your ass, chin and nose shiny with your slick. “Bend over for me.”

You position yourself on all fours, eager to have his cock back inside you. He glides in easily, your entrance drenched in his spit and your cum. He fucks you hard, hips slamming deliciously against your ass cheeks, the sounds of wet skin slapping and your wanton moans filling the room. You’re completely unhinged for him, needy for another orgasm despite your body being spent. 

“That’s it, baby girl,” he coos, pressing his hips flush to your ass as you convulse around him, pushed passed the edge. He hooks his fingers into your mouth, swiping it over your tongue before caressing your clit. “Come all over my cock. Get it fucking creamy.”

“Oh fuck,” you whine, salivating onto the pillow, climaxing for the third time tonight. Or is it the fourth? At this point, you can’t even keep count. He orgasms with you, shooting his seed deep into your womb, stuffing you full. He pulls out slowly, watching as the cum dribbles out of your slit, only to gather it with his thumb to finger it back in. You let him play with you for a couple more minutes, too exhausted to berate him for being a nasty old perv, like you usually would. In all honestly, you love how filthy he is, especially with you. 

When he’s done, he lays beside you, wrapping you in his arms. You curl closer to him, enjoying the way his hands roam up and down the curves of your body, exploring every crevice until it’s ingrained in his brain. The warmth that emits from him surrounds you in a cozy embrace, making you feel protected and safe in his hold.

He nestles his face into your neck, now dewy with perspiration from the night’s activities. “Not so bad for an old man, right?”

Still in a daze, you pat his hand affectionately, grinning. “Good. Very, very good.”

Satisfied with your respond, he gives you smooch on the cheek, hugging you tighter. “That’s my girl.”

[the-curse-of-neoclones]

Moderneopets Artist Mistreatment

Edit as of 11/16/23 10:40 AM NST:

Removed names where I failed to do so before. I'm very sorry to the affected parties, this snowballed so far out of my intended scope.

Edit as of 11/16/23 5:30 PM NST

Please see this post for a small update.

As of 11/16/23 10:10 PM NST, Hazer the site owner has formally and publicly apologized to myself and Velu, the other affected artist. As far as I'm concerned he has officially handled the situation as best as he could, and I hold no further qualms with Moderneopets. I hope to hear of its management continuing in this direction.

The following post is left up for archival purposes only.

*****

Hello, I’m wren. I'm an artist responsible for some of the pet assets on the neoclone, Moderneopets. I'm just going to get into it.

Hazer was extremely lucky to somehow cultivate a dense group of largely professional artists to work together to make assets for his site. When it comes to his own management as a site runner, he’s largely hands-off of the art department, which is a good thing! If he can’t be active in the art panel enough to know what goes on in there, he shouldn’t be running it— we have many strong, capable artists on the team who are passionate about recreating the neopets style, who work together on every pet that has been released ever since critique became a requirement. 

It makes sense that, with a project this large, Hazer should have to designate moderators to enforce rules when he is absent. Choosing to bring on moderators was also a good decision. Unfortunately, he chose poorly. 

Art panel issues should have separate Art panel moderators to take care of them. People who are not overburdened with generic moderation duties from the many other channels of the server, for example. In the same vein, artists should not be moderators. When an artist has an issue with another artist, who happens to be a moderator (which has happened many times, with many people— If the mods actually open threads for all complaints they receive, they should have evidence of this & if they don’t they are not being truthful), the artist would likely not feel comfortable approaching that same artist-slash-moderator to complain about what happened. It breeds an aura of fear and discomfort any time there is an issue with an artist/mod, and that is why the two moderators on the team should have to choose one or the other if hazer wants to cultivate a healthy atmosphere in his panel. 

I’ve created many pets for this website. Neopets has been a passion of mine since the third grade. I’m also one of those professional artists I mentioned— my work is also art, industry or otherwise. I care about breaking neopets down into their core, recognizable shapes. I care about keeping them on-model and in the spirit of the original TNT art team, with improvements made where I and the other panelists think they make sense. I have redlined for other artists to an even greater degree, just as other artists have redlined for me and helped me finalize each pet into something simply good: something that made sense to get put on a little passion project website for other people with a similar passion to enjoy. I found the panel to be a community of likeminded artists with which to discuss our favorite childhood petsite while we made art for a clone, as if we could pretend we were making art for neopets-dot-com. It was nice. 

It wasn’t perfect, though. In fact, shortly after I joined in 2021 I took a hiatus because the art panel was fairly dead. I came back a little while later to see we had several new species, as well as an art director, and lots of activity! That was very exciting. Over the next year I would reach out to the panel or, if nobody was sure of how to proceed, I would reach out to the art director to propose ideas for how to make the panel a little more functional; quality of life updates, if you will. I don’t take credit for all of these alone, there were other artists with similar ideas all communicating to the director in private, but some examples: 

A designated “collab” zone where artists could seek out other artists to complete pets with. 

“The Purge,” in which the team was whittled down to ~25 current, active artists to refresh the team and allow for new artists to join. 

“The Approval System,” which I first sat down with in my workshop (public to all artists) to hammer out the details with as many other artists as wanted to give their input— a method for pitching new ideas to eventually break through the “new species/color freeze” that had been plaguing us.

Speaking on the approval system: like most things that required Hazer’s direct input in the art team, it was left without response for a very long time. Artists with ideas for custom species or colors would occasionally murmur about their excitement for the system to get a look-over by hazer, to see if our approval system pitch would be approved. But hazer is busy, as we all know, and the pitch sat for a while. We had new & returning artists on the team to keep everyone busy. 

What I would expect from a years-old panel of artists, when new additions arrive, would be some manner of tutorial. New artists would need to know the pipeline (here’s your workshop, you can post WIPs and anything else in there; here’s how you ping for critique, here are the spaces in which to ask for it; make sure you always ping before your work is submitted on-site), and there would likely be some acclimating on both sides. What I did not expect (but should have), was pushback from new artists on things that hadn’t had pushback in a long time. Why can’t [x] color be a posechange? Well, we’ve created many already and none of them were posechanges. Why can’t I use colored lineart? Well, that isn’t in line with the style standards set by this color; see, nobody else is coloring their lineart. 

Suddenly there was a divide between veteran artists, the director, and the new blood. The divide felt greater when Hazer came to his new artist’s aid to say, approximately: “Eh, if someone wants to go above and beyond and make better art, they shouldn’t have to adhere to the guidelines.” Then he threw the art director under the bus for not somehow knowing that his intentions were always to keep the panel loose and unstructured. But don’t worry, that isn’t the first bus and won’t be the last.

My personal investment in the panel waned around that time. I think a structured “work” environment with easily accessible rules and deadlines is necessary to any project of this size. If we didn’t want to enforce color standards, nor prioritize certain colors for release, and anyone could just submit whatever Nice Art they wanted, why not open it up so any user could submit pet art? Why have a panel at all? Isn’t Hazer taking any opportunity to dunk on Leopets because he wants his site to be better? How is this different? 

But I stuck around. This was a hobby I really enjoyed, after all, and I really believed it could get better. It had a good core, and despite my grievances with individual artists, none of them were bad people. 

But I noticed some trends. New artists would receive feedback that they didn’t agree with and retaliate by bringing in their emotions or personal preferences. Any disagreement where multiple veteran artists stepped in to say their piece would escalate to the point of very long messages on both sides, and would need to be left to hazer to give a final input. Often he didn’t come around to it, because he’s busy, as we know. I didn’t step in to every argument; they became cyclical after a while, and I didn’t have the time or energy to spend simply tapping the proverbial sign (or style sheet). I would try to give positive suggestions when I could, for example: I don’t think this color needs another alt for just one single design, but we did talk about eventually making this color that your design would fit into really well. 

I’ve done my time having arguments on the internet. I really just want an art environment where the rules are set and people actually enjoy following them, because I do— I see art rules as helpful guidelines at best and obstacles to cleverly navigate at worst, which is still fun. But of course not everyone is going to feel the same way, that’s normal; that’s life. 

On 11/9 I was given this message by Hazer: 

It reads:

Hello wren,

I am reaching out to you today to inform you that effective immediately you are being dismissed from the Artist and Consultant Panels. This decision has been reached through discussions and based on repeated offences in the form of user harassment and subjecting the panels to a toxic atmosphere, after multiple reports and concerns brought up to us by other users.

While we understand concerns regarding panel management, there is a distinct difference between criticising and condeming the way the panel does things and criticising and condeming users that are on the panel, and we believe this line has been crossed one too many times, further supported by concerns brought to us.

We appreciate the passion and drive of our team—all of them—and we understand you have been very passionate about the panel. Given some of the messages we see, we have also concluded that due to things in the panel not working out as you have wished, it has caused you much stress and upset as well, which we do not want. All in all, we've decided that the atmosphere of the panel and your own enjoyment of the website are hampered by your presence on it. Because of this, we have decided it is best to have you part ways with the staff sections of the website.

Effective immediately after this message, we will be permanently removing you from the panels. While normally we do a temporary removal, in this case we've seen that your compatability with our management and handling of the panel will not improve, and it will just bring stress to both sides.

We understand you have put a lot of passion into the projects you have been working on for release in Moderneopets, and in lieu of that, we offer you the option of having the project(s) still be released even after dismissal. Rewards will still be granted for releases per usual, and credit will still be given. If you decide, due to dismissal, you do not want your unreleased work to be released on Moderneopets, simply state it as such, and we will discard all progress on projects you have been working on to respect those wishes.

This decision is final and will not be revoked.

Best wishes to you,

The Moderneopets Team

[end caption]

My response:

It reads: 

No warnings huh?

[end caption]

Hazer didn’t have an answer for me. I was already removed from the panel. 

This came as a shock. I’d been there for over two years, I felt I had a good rapport with the other artists, I felt I’d been a helpful and active addition to the team. Like I said, I’ve done my time having arguments on the internet… what toxic behavior? Discussions over style guides? Giving redlines to people with permission? Working with the whole team to bolster several new color releases? I had an entire species that Hazer wanted ready to go since March— I just pushed through the Swamp Gas release, I just created the Mystical alt? 

No warnings?

Let me reiterate: I have never been spoken to by any staff about my behavior. Hazer, his then-four moderators— none of them have ever been in my DMs to issue a warning. I have spoken TO the mods about others’ behaviors, and nothing ever came of it. The one time (and I mention this for full transparency only) the art director came to talk to me about something I said, it was stated clearly that it was not a warning, and even so I adjusted my behavior around said issue accordingly. And that was well before the purge. 

But, don’t take my word for it. Here it is from hazer himself, speaking over his mods who were busy telling the rest of the panel that they always issue warnings: 

It reads:

No in this case I do agree that this has been an abrupt situation and I understand the blind-sided-ness of it. No official warnings were given out regarding the actions that resulted in the removal of artists today and that’s on fault of myself and deebs not working things out properly despite the moderation team bringing issues to a us a few times – also due to our lack of availability recently.  [end caption]

So… What happened? Well… here it is from Hazer, in longform: 

For those who use screen readers, above are several enormous discord screenshots; I've placed it in a paste bin here: https://pastebin.com/dHLiBRTF

Two other artists immediately stepped down. Hazer admits here in his message that he and the mods had multiple tickets opened about my behavior, that they had known they wanted to remove me. They never gave a warning, never talked to me until the moment of my dismissal, but they had known it was coming for months? 

Why did Hazer and his gang of mods let me continue working on art for their panel? Why did they let me work so hard to pull Swamp Gas together for an official release? Why did they let me put together a whole custom Alt and workshop it for so long? I’ve been active this whole time. Why did you let me keep working if you knew you wanted me gone? 

I am a professional artist. My work is art. Hazer made the knowing decision to exploit my time and effort for his website. He’s not paying me, he’s not paying any of us. It’s volunteer work. But I did not volunteer to be mistreated like this. To not even be given a chance to defend myself. To him, artists are disposable. To him, if someone has worked on your team for years but speaks up when your friend tries to overturn the system, even civil discussion is cause for disposal. Civil discussion negates years of effort, passion, time and care. 

I didn’t have to make art for you, Hazer. And you don’t deserve the team you have. How many artists have voiced their discomfort with your actions? How many artists are taking a break from the panel because of how you handled this? Ah, wait, you wouldn’t know… you’re busy. 

Hazer and his mod team are just another corrupt group of individuals unfortunately heading what could have been a fun and promising petsite. Everyone who speaks praise of modneo does it by and large because of the new and unique art. Hazer was extremely lucky to cultivate a dense group of largely professional artists to work together to make assets for his site. 

If Hazer wants to show any sign of his potential to be a better person, I believe he needs to formally apologize to his site for the misuse of his power and the mistreatment and exploitation of artists on his team. He needs to apologize to you, the players of his game, the subscribers to his patreon, for allowing this to happen under his watch and under his word. You know you fucked up, hazer. You shouldn’t have sided with your friend without any actual evidence of misconduct. You shouldn’t have spoken about me like I was a toxic, subhuman hindrance to your art team. You shouldn’t have treated me like that. I didn’t deserve it. None of us did. You can apologize to me and the other lost artists publicly.

[cre8inghavoc]

What are friends for?

PT. 7

Status: ongoing!!

Updates: no set date.

WC: 2734

Pairing: megumi fushiguro x FEM!reader

Genre/Warnings:[18+] Characters are aged up. This story contains toxic boyfriend, cursing, name calling, self-doubt/hate, angst, breaking up, post-breakup, alcohol, drug use, drunk moments, new friends, dating!au, college!au, no curses!au, dark humour, dark jokes. SMAU.

Recap:

Now that your ex has retrieved his belongings, you're on a tight deadline to get everything packed by the end of the day. You have to move out tonight, especially since you're starting at a new school tomorrow. Plus, moving everything out today will make it much easier to settle into your new room before school starts. And, it's a good way to pass the time until 6:40 PM tonight, when you plan to head to the park.... Tonight will be the moment of truth to see if he decides to show up. You're overwhelmed with the need to apologize for your silence all week and for turning down his invitations to hang out. And then there's the mess with your ex, which just adds to the chaos. You really want to explain to him that your ex was only there to pick up his stuff before you move, but it's hard to make him understand when you hadn't even mentioned your plans to move to begin with.

It just feels like everything is just spiralling out of control…

MEGUMIS POV:

The phone sits there, taunting me with its silent demand for attention. My fingers itch to reach for it, to answer her call, but I know I can't. It's a battle of wills, and I'm fighting against myself. If I give in, I'll only end up forgiving her too easily, forgetting all about her with her ex.

 But it's so damn hard. 

She's always on my mind, her smile a reminder of genuine warmth that lingers in my thoughts. Her eyes, deep and honest, draw me in with every glance, revealing layers of her soul I can't resist. And her scent... her perfume, it's like a gentle embrace, comforting and alluring, even when she's not around. Every moment with her is like poetry in motion, each touch, each word, sparking a fire of longing within me. She's more than just a person; she's a feeling, an intoxicating presence that I can't shake.

She's a masterpiece in every sense, utterly captivating and impossible to overlook. Despite the simmering anger within me, my deepest longing is to have her close, to revel in the comfort of her embrace. Yet, I restrain myself. I can't muster the strength to answer the phone, to engage with her messages. Not now. At Least not yet….

I glance over at my phone and catch her last message: meet her at the park at 7.

Damn, she makes it so hard to resist.

 7 PM…..

The park across from my place. She'll explain what happened. Maybe it wasn't as serious as it seemed... Maybe he just showed up? Knocking at her door, threatening her. Damn it. If that's the case, what the hell is wrong with me? How could I be so blind? What if he intended to harm her, and I just walked away, leaving her alone? Is she okay? The amount of messages she sent suggests she is, but still... How could I be so reckless? What if she got hurt? I would never forgive myself. Never.

Fuck!

I have to go…. I have to make sure she's okay, to reassure myself that my fears are unfounded. And if she needs me, I'll be there, no matter what.

I glance at the time: 6:55 PM.

God damn it... 

I won't make it back in time, at least not for another 10 minutes or so. With a heavy heart and a sense of urgency, I gather my thoughts and hit the gas, pushing the limits to get home as quickly as possible, determined to find her and ensure her safety, no matter the cost.

I'll just call her and let her know I'm on my way and that I'll be a little late. As I pick up my phone and dial her number, it goes straight to voicemail twice. Is she ignoring me? No, she wouldn't... Why would she? Maybe her phone's dead? Or maybe she turned it off? I have to get to her as fast as I can.

But as I arrive, the park is deserted, and she's nowhere to be seen. Dread washes over me, realizing I'm 15 minutes late. Did she give up on me? Did she think I wouldn't come? Panic sets in as I frantically search, hoping against hope that she's still here, waiting for me…

But she's not. She's gone. And the weight of that realization hits me like a ton of bricks.

I pick up my phone again, desperate, and dial her number once more. But it goes straight to voicemail again.

"Please, angel... pick up," I whisper into the void, my voice strained with worry.

But there's no answer. Just silence. And in that silence, my fears grow stronger, gnawing at my heart with a relentless grip.

YOUR POV

You arrived at the park five minutes early, hoping against hope that Megumi would show up on time.

6:55 PM.

Anxiety courses through your veins, the uncertainty of his reaction weighing heavily on your mind. Would he even show up? Or would he take your explanation poorly, not believing a word you'd say, and then leave you? Both outcomes are equally terrifying, but you can't shake the feeling that Megumi not showing up might be slightly worse. It would mean he wants nothing to do with you, and you wouldn't even have the chance to explain what actually happened. The guilt would eat away at you.

You've turned your phone off, ensuring that when he arrives, if he does, you won't be interrupted. Your focus would be solely on him.

7:00 PM.

You sit there, waiting, scanning the park for any sign of him. Each person who approaches, you hope it's him, but it never is. With every passing moment, your thoughts spiral further. Was he ever going to show up? Did something happen? Or does he just not want you anymore?

7:10 PM.

You give him an extra ten minutes, clinging to the hope that maybe he's running late. But as the minutes tick by, hope fades into disappointment. He's not coming. He didn't come. What's the point in waiting any longer? Even if he did show up, would you be angry? Upset? Feeling unimportant because of his lateness? Maybe he forgot or didn't see your message? You try to give him the benefit of the doubt, but it's hard. Trust is a fragile thing, especially after what you went through with your ex.

You stand from the bench, tears threatening to spill, but you hold them back as best as you can. The emotions swirl within you—sadness, disappointment, frustration. You start to walk away, making your way back home. You've already packed everything after kicking out your ex, so all that's left to do is go back. The movers said they'd be there by 8 PM to gather your things and take them to your new place.

At 9:40 PM, over an hour has passed since you finally moved into your new place. With the help of your friends, unpacking was a breeze, and it felt surprisingly good to be living with them. As you make your way to your room, you're pleasantly surprised to find it larger than expected. Thank goodness for Toge's spacious house, where even the rooms are sizable. And having your own bathroom? That's a luxury you definitely appreciate.

You take a moment to survey the space, considering how to arrange your belongings. With a generous window offering a view of the expansive backyard—complete with lush green grass, towering trees, and a sparkling pool—you decide to position your bed beside it. It's the perfect spot to gaze at your favorite view, especially with the moon casting its gentle glow outside.

Setting up your room with your friends was a joyous experience, making the whole moving process feel more fun and exciting. As you begin to organize, you can't help but feel a sense of contentment and anticipation for the adventures that await in your new home.

You call out to Maki, asking for her help in setting up your gaming equipment in the corner.

"Yep! Is your PC in this box?" she asks, pointing at the one labeled "fragile."

"Yes, ma'am!" you confirm with a smile.

Turning to Toge and Yuta, you assign them the task of mounting your TV on the wall across from your bed.

“Yes ma’am! You got it!” Toge says, in his usual playful manner, as he salutes. 

“You’re so stupid” You say while slapping your forehead. 

Laughter fills the room, easing the tension that's been weighing on you all day. You don't realize how late it's gotten until you finally check the clock: 12:12 AM.

With a mixture of relief and gratitude, you thank your friends for their help. However, beneath the surface, the lingering disappointment of Megumi's absence still weighs heavily on your mind. Though you try to push it aside, your friends can sense that something's bothering you.

"Thank you guys so much for helping me. I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time!" you apologize.

"You know you don't have to thank us... We're always going to be here for you!" Maki reassures you.

"I could've been playing Fortnite, so she does have to apologize for taking up my precious time," Toge interjects jokingly, prompting laughter from everyone.

"Sorry, Toge, didn't know Fortnite was more important," you tease back, rolling your eyes.

"Just kidding, obviously you're more important!!!" Toge replies with a smirk, in a sarcastic tone, though what he said is true... you definitely are more important.

"Wow, screw you," you playfully retort, sticking out your tongue and your middle finger as you all continue to laugh.

"How are you feeling now that you're officially moved out?" Yuta sweetly asks.

"Honestly, I feel happy and comfortable. I love being with you guys, and now that we all live together, it's going to be so fun. And I'm going to the same school as you all! Speaking of which, we should probably head to sleep... It's almost 12:30, and we have to wake up at 7 AM," you say, a hint of tiredness creeping into your tone.

"That's good, and we're happy you're with us too! Goodnight, Y/N," Yuta replies with a smile before hugging you and then heading towards the door.

"Finally, I can play Fortnite," Toge jokes before noticing you picking up a pillow.

"Y/N! I was kidding! I WAS KIDDING!" Toge exclaims, darting out of your room as you chase after him, pillow in hand.

The chase leads you both around the house. As you enter the kitchen, Toge quickly runs on one side of the counter, putting distance between you. Determined to catch him, you move to your left, but he mirrors your movements, keeping just out of reach.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Toge grins and taunts you from across the counter, knowing he's outmanoeuvred you for now. But you're not one to give up easily, and with a playful smirk, you prepare to outsmart him in this game. 

“Y/N IM SORRY! I SAID I WAS KIDDING PLEASE SPARE MY LIFE!!!! I BEGGGG” he yells out. 

“NOT UNTIL YOU APOLOGIZED AND SAY IM YOUR BEST FRIEND AND YOU LOVE ME.” you yell back teasing him. 

“NO NEVER!” he runs past you and you chase him back up the stairs but you corner him before he could get to his room.

“IM SO SORRY QUEEN Y/N MY BESTEST OF BEST FRIEND I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH!” he says in fear. 

“Love you too bestie!! goodnight!” You smile innocently and make your way to your room.

“she's fucking crazy....” he mumbled to himself as he gets back up.

“mmm? what was that?” you say turning back towards him. 

“Uhh... N-NOTHING!!! HAHA… NOTHING AT ALL” With a nervous chuckle, Toge swiftly opens the door to his room, slipping inside and securing the lock behind him.

Maki, witnessing the entire exchange, approaches you with a smile to say goodnight. But before she leaves, she asks about Megumi.

Your surprise is evident, but you can't bring yourself to lie to your best friend. 

"It's... kinda bad right now. We're not really talking," you admit.

"What? What the hell happened?" Maki responds, shocked.

"He saw my ex at my house today. He was only there to grab his stuff, but then Megumi showed up around the same time, and my ex lied to him... I didn't know he was there until it was too late," you explain with a sigh.

"Why didn't you just call him and explain?" Maki inquires.

"I tried, but he didn't answer at all. I even texted him to meet me at the park across from his house at 7 PM to explain everything, and if he didn't show up, I'd just assume he didn't want to be friends anymore or have any type of relationship."

"And...?" Maki prompts, sensing your hesitation.

"He didn't show up," you admit, feeling your heart drop.

"What the hell? Why wouldn't he show up? That guy is literally obsessed with you," Maki says, clearly bewildered.

"Stop..." you respond, feeling annoyed.

"Stop what?" Maki asks, confused.

"Stop saying shit that isn't true, you really don't need to lie about that." you say, your frustration bubbling up.

"What do you mean?! I've known Megumi since he was a kid, y/n.. He's never been like this, not once with a girl before. Every girl that's ever tried talking to him, he wouldn't even notice or care to at least. He puts no effort in at all. Why do you think when we saw him with you on the couch together, we were extremely shocked. He barely gets near a girl, so the fact that he let you lean on him AND hold your hand shows that he likes you. Like, a lot," Maki explains, her words hitting you hard.

"We're just friends... that's all. And it's normal," you respond weakly, trying to dismiss her observations.

"Maybe normal for you, but definitely not for Megumi. He barely talks to girls, let alone looks in their direction. Seriously, Y/N, you'd have to be blind or stupid to not see that he obviously has feelings for you," Maki concludes, her annoyance evident.

You fall silent, feeling conflicted by her words as she leaves you to ponder the truth of her observations.

"Goodnight, Maki," you respond, your tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. Despite her insistence, you can't shake the feeling that what she's telling you isn't entirely true, convinced that Megumi sees you only as a friend.

"Y/N—" Maki starts, but you cut her off, retreating back into your room and heading straight for bed. Without wasting a moment, Maki quickly pulls out her phone and sends a message to Nobara.

7AM

As your alarm blares, announcing the start of your first day at a new school, a rush of nerves and excitement courses through you. But, having your friends by your side brings a warm sense of familiarity that soothes the uncertainties of the day ahead.

Last night was rough. You couldn't sleep good as thoughts of Megumi consumed your mind, denying you any peace. Despite knowing it's time to move forward, his memory persists, a constant companion in your thoughts. It's tough to shake off the memory of someone who felt so right, even when things didn't quite align.

The second alarm that goes off snaps you out of your thoughts, prompting you to get moving. With a sigh, you drag yourself out of bed and start getting ready for the day.

Arriving at the school, you feel a mix of excitement and anxiety as you head to the office to pick up your schedule. Despite the last-minute transfer, you're relieved that they've welcomed you, easing some of the nerves about starting anew.

You rush up the stairs of the school, the realization that you're running late sets in. Panic starts to rise as you frantically search for your classroom, the maze-like layout of the school making it difficult to navigate.

"Where the hell is this stupid class?" you mutter under your breath, frustration mounting with each passing second.

With your mind solely focused on finding your class, you fail to notice the person standing directly in your path. Before you can react, you run right into them, the impact jolting you back to reality.

Stumbling backward, he reaches out to steady you, his hands gently settling on your waist, you look up to apologize, only to freeze in shock as you lock eyes with the person before you.

"Megumi?" you blurt out, unable to hide your surprise as you take in his familiar features and all-black attire.

His expression remains impassive at first, but as his gaze meets yours, recognition flashes in his eyes.

"Y/n…?"

omg omg omg omg omg

finally finished this part... took longer than expected... sorry for the long wait

i rly appreciate ur guys patience <3

this part was kindaaa boring but i promise next one will get more interesting teehee

TAGLIST <3

@lavender-hvze @xbarrjallenx @atinymonbebestay @1l-ynn @chilichopsticks @dr-fluff-meow @lost-resonance @maya-maya-56 @ichorstainedskin @luciiferslover @madaqueue @vanitywoo

[guccifrog]

MEDDLE ABOUT

band!chris sturniolo X reader

chapter 1

warnings: swearing/smoking/ band chris

ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᵒʳⁱᵍⁱⁿᵃˡ ʷᵒʳᵏ// ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡ ᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵖʸ

˚ ༘ ·˚꒰Meddle about-chase atlantic꒱ ₊˚ˑ 1:35 ━━━●───── 3:47 ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

ʷᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵐᵉᵈᵈˡᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ

°˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖°

As the clock's second hand seemed to drag along at a snail's pace, I found myself staring at the same display of overpriced guitars and outdated drum kits that had become the background of my existence. The music playing softly over the store's speakers I couldn't even muster the strength to drown out the ticking of the clock above me. Just a few more minutes and I'd be out of here, free to go home and collapse into bed.

It was the same routine, day in and day out: show up, restock shelves, wait for customers who never came, and then clock out at six, wishing for a life that didn't involve wearing a name tag and listening to the same Top 40 hits on repeat.

Just as I was about to turn off the lights and lock up for the night, a figure dashed through the door, their face flushed and their eyes wide. They skidded to a halt in front of the counter, breathless and desperate.

"Please," they gasped. "You have to help me."

I glanced at the clock again, already late for my shift-ending ritual. The words "Sorry, we're closed" were on the tip of my tongue, but something in the way he looked at me, the raw panic in his eyes… it stopped me cold.

"I need guitar strings," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm in a band, and we have a show tonight, and we forgot them…"

I sighed, annoyance momentarily giving way to a strange sense of pity. Rolling my eyes, I reached beneath the counter and grabbed a box of strings we had. "Fine," I muttered, handing them over. "this will cost 50$."

The boy's face lit up, and for a moment, I almost forgot how much I hated my job. "Really?" he asked, his voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you so much!"

He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out enough money to cover the strings. As he counted it out, I couldn't help but notice the worn condition of his clothes, and the scuffs on his shoes. He didn't look like a typical musician, but then again, I'd never been in a band.

"You know," I said, my tone more gentle than I intended, "you should've called ahead. We're closing early today."

He looked up at me, his expression sheepish. "I know, I'm sorry. I guess we were just really focused on practice."

There was a moment of silence as he finished counting the money and placed it on the counter. Then, unexpectedly, he reached over and handed me a scrap of paper. Confused, I took it, glancing at the hastily scribbled address.

"Oh, that's where we're playing tonight," he explained. "We're starting at nine. You should come by, you know if you want to hear us play."

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, I found myself speechless. It was the first time anyone had ever invited me to one of these things, and I had to admit, there was a small part of me that was intrigued. But then, reality set in. I was exhausted, and I had better things to do with my time than spend it at some dive bar listening to a band I didn't even know.

"Thanks," I said finally, "but I've got plans tonight."

He nodded understandingly, but there was a hint of disappointment in his expression. "Okay, well, thanks again for the strings. I really appreciate it."

As I watched him leave through the door, sprinting down the street, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy. Here he was, rushing off to play music for a crowd of strangers, while I was headed home to another lonely night in front of the TV. A part of me wished I could be more like him, more carefree and passionate about something.

But then again, I reminded myself, I had a steady job, even if it wasn't my dream. And who knew? Maybe the band would suck, and I'd be glad I didn't waste my time going to see them. It was hard to imagine anything worse than spending an evening listening to yet another mediocre cover band, but I guess anything was possible.

I finished flipping the 'open' sign before closing the door and stepped out into the cool night air. The streets were bustling with people, couples holding hands and laughing as they walked arm in arm. It was a scene that once would've filled me with longing, but now it only served as a reminder of what I was.

As I made my way home, my phone buzzed in my pocket. The text from my roommate hit me like a ton of bricks. Of course, she would choose tonight to finally have some alone time with her boyfriend. It seemed like the universe was conspiring against me. With a sigh, I pulled out my phone and sent her a quick reply, telling her I'd be at a friend's house for the night. I didn't want to give her any ideas about crashing there.

I shoved my phone back in my pocket and continued down the sidewalk, lost in thought. The sounds of the city swirled around me: cars honking, people laughing, music blaring from open windows. It was a cacophony of noise that usually I would've found comforting, but tonight it all seemed to grate on my nerves.

As I walked, I found myself drawn to a nearby alleyway. The dimly lit space was a welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of the main street, and I ducked inside, seeking a moment of solitude. The alley was lined with garbage cans and graffiti-covered walls, and the air smelled of stale urine and old pizza. It was the perfect place to lose myself in my thoughts.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out some change, then made my way to the vending machine at the end of the alley. It was one of those old-fashioned machines, the kind that required actual physical effort to operate. I fumbled around in my pocket for a quarter, then inserted it into the slot and twisted the dial to select my drink.

As I waited for the machine to dispense my beverage, I glanced around the alley. The shadows danced and shifted in the flickering light, casting strange shapes across the walls. I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settling over me. Maybe it was the late hour, or the quiet solitude of the alley, but something didn't feel right.

I fidgeted with the rings on my fingers, drumming my thumbs against my thigh as I listened to the distant sounds of laughter and music. It was almost as if they were taunting me, reminding me of the life I wasn't living.

A soft click sounded from the vending machine, and I glanced down to see my can of soda slowly begin to emerge from its metal prison. I snatched it from the machine's clutches and twisted off the cap, taking a long, satisfying drink. The cold, sweet liquid soothed my parched throat and chased away the lingering unease that had been nagging at me.

As I stood there, enjoying my soda and trying to shake off the strange feeling that had come over me, I noticed something shimmering on the ground at my feet. Bending down, I picked up the glittering object, a crumpled piece of paper. Frowning, I smoothed it out against my palm and immediately recognized the boy's handwriting. It was the piece of paper he had given me earlier with the address on it.

The paper must have slipped out of my pocket when I was looking for change. I must have dropped it without even noticing. The universe was indeed conspiring against me tonight.

I examined the address on the piece of paper and realized that it was quite close by. In fact, it was only a few blocks away. For some reason, this made me feel both curious and uneasy. Maybe it was just the late hour and the solitude of the alley, but something was telling me that I should go there.

With a deep breath, I stuffed the rest of my soda can into a nearby garbage can and made my way back out onto the street. The cool night air caressed my skin as I walked, and the lights from the nearby buildings cast a warm glow on the sidewalk. I could hear the distant sounds of traffic, but they seemed to fade into the background as I focused on the task at hand.

The bar came into view, its neon sign flickering invitingly above the door. As I approached, I could feel a mixture of anticipation and trepidation coursing through my veins. I took a deep breath and pushed open the door, stepping into a world of dim light and loud music. The smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke filled my nostrils.

The boy was nowhere to be seen. The entire bar seemed to be empty, I couldn't help but notice the way people kept glancing in my direction, their eyes lingering on me for just a moment too long. It was unnerving, to say the least. I made my way through the empty bar, feeling more and more self-conscious with each step. The silence was deafening, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. I started to wonder if I had made a mistake coming here and if I should just turn around and leave.

But then, just as I was about to lose my nerve, something strange happened. The lights flickered, and for a split second, the room was plunged into darkness. There was a collective gasp from the patrons, followed by the soft click of lighters and cell phones as they tried to illuminate the darkness. But, almost as quickly as it had come, the power returned, and the bar was bathed in its usual dim glow.

It was in that brief moment of darkness that I saw it: a flash of movement on the stage. I squinted, trying to make out what it was, and then I realized, the boy from earlier, the one who had given me the piece of paper. His guitar was slung over his shoulder, and there were two other guys behind him.

As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I could see that they were setting up their equipment, readying themselves to play. The other members of the band exchanged knowing glances and quiet words, their movements fluid and practiced. It was clear that they had been through this before, they had performed together countless times.

The boy who had given me the piece of paper turned to face the crowd, his features shadowed by his long, brown hair. There was an air of confidence about him, a charisma that filled the room and made everyone in attendance sit up and take notice. "Hello, everyone," he said, his voice smooth and resonant, "thank you for coming out tonight." There was a murmur of appreciation from the crowd, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe wash over me.

He gestured to the other members of the band. "On guitar, you have my good friend and collaborator, Nate." The tall, lanky figure beside him nodded in acknowledgment, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "And on drums," the boy continued, "you have my brother Matt." The figure behind him raised his hand in a wave, his brown hair falling across his face. "Together, we are…Trapnest."

There was a moment of silence as the crowd absorbed the introduction, and then the room erupted into applause. The sound was deafening, echoing off the walls and filling my ears. I felt a thrill run down my spine as I watched the band members exchange smiles, obviously pleased with the response. The boy turned back to face the crowd, adjusting the strap of his guitar before settling into a comfortable position.

With a nod from the him, they launched into their first song. The music was haunting and beautiful, a perfect blend of melancholy and hope. Nate's fingers danced across the fretboard of his guitar, creating a mesmerizing tapestry of sound, while Matt's steady drumbeat provided the foundation for their sonic exploration. The boy's voice was like liquid honey, smooth and warm, as he sang.

The crowd swayed along with the music, their bodies moving in time to the rhythm. I found myself forgetting about everything else and getting lost in the moment, the music seemed to wash over me like a wave.

The set progressed, each song more beautiful than the last. There was a mix of both fast-paced, energetic numbers and slow, introspective ballads, showcasing the range and depth of their talent.

As the final notes of their encore faded away, the crowd erupted into a deafening roar of applause and cheers. The boy with the bass, who I now knew as the lead singer of Trapnest, smiled shyly and waved at the crowd before stepping back from the microphone. Nate and Matt joined him at the front of the stage, grinning and taking bows as the adulation of the crowd washed over them.

The atmosphere in the room was electric, everyone was on their feet, clapping and shouting, their faces lit up with excitement and awe. Even from where I was standing near the back, I could feel the energy emanating from the band like a tangible force. It was clear that they had made a lasting impression on everyone there, myself included.

I didn't realize I had started moving until I found myself at the very front of the crowd, only a few feet away from the lead singer. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. It felt as if we were the only two people in the world, and everything else had faded away. The rest of the band disappeared, the music became a distant hum.

He smiled, and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It lit up his entire face, making his eyes close and his dimples appear.

As if from a dream, he stepped off the stage, moving through the crowd with an effortless grace. People parted for him, their faces filled with awe and admiration. He didn't seem to notice, his focus solely on me. He stopped just inches from where I stood, towering over me despite his slight build.

"I thought you had plans tonight," he said, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His voice was like honey, smooth and warm, sending a shiver down my spine.

"oh shut up" I rolled my eyes, trying to play it cool, but I could feel the heat creeping into my cheeks. His smile only grew wider, like he knew he'd gotten to me. "I just thought it'd be nice to, you know, do something other than stand there and gawk at you," he said as he shoved his hands inside his pockets, looking around at the people who were still surrounding us.

I couldn't deny that it was kind of flattering to have the attention of the lead singer of some band, but I wanted to make sure he knew I wasn't just some groupie. "So what's your name, anyway?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He blinked, looking slightly surprised by my directness. "Oh, uh, name's Chris," he said, offering me his hand. I hesitated for a moment before taking it, feeling the warmth of his skin and the strength in his grip. His hand lingered in mine for a beat too long, and I could feel the weight of his gaze on me. "And you are?" he asked, his voice low and inviting.

"I'm y/n." I glanced around, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "So, uh, you guys were good. Really good. I wasn't expecting that."

He grinned, his dimples deepening. "Thank you. We try our best." He paused, looking at me intently.

I found myself drawn to his eyes, which were a beautiful shade of blue."I could tell," I replied.

He chuckled, seeming genuinely amused. suddenly, a commotion at the back of the room caught our attention. I turned to see one of his bandmates, who I recognized as Matt, waving frantically in Chris's direction. "Hey, man! Over here!" he shouted above the music.

Chris glanced over his shoulder, then back at me with an apologetic smile. "Excuse me for a moment," he said, taking my hand and leading me through the crowd. As we made our way through the throng of people, I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and excitement coursing through me. This was definitely an experience I wouldn't forget anytime soon.

We reached Matt, who was grinning ear to ear. "we're about to smoke a cigarette out back," he explained. "You're more than welcome to join us." I hesitated for a moment, I don't know these people, but it did seem like they were all pretty cool. "Sure," I said, feeling a rush of adrenaline. "Lead the way."

We weaved our way through the crowd and out the back door of the club. The alley was dimly lit, and a cool breeze blew through my hair. nate, who I recognized from earlier was standing next to a girl with long dark brown hair and piercing brown eyes and another guy who looked exactly like Matt and Chris. They were deep in conversation, oblivious to our presence. Chris lit up a cigarette and took a long drag, exhaling the smoke into the night sky.

"So," he said, finally meeting my gaze, "what made you suddenly change your mind" His voice was still laced with that playfulness from earlier.

I shrugged, trying to act cool. "Oh, you know, just got bored I guess." I glanced over at the others, hoping they wouldn't think I was too forward. "It's not every day you get invited to something like this, right?"

He chuckled, the sound coming out as a soft rumble. "No, it's not." He took another drag of his cigarette and then offered it to me. "Here, want one?" I reached out and took it, as he lit it up for me. "Thanks," I said, coughing a little from the smoke.

the rest of the night was a blur. We stayed out in the alley, talking and laughing and getting to know each other.

The air was thick with the smell of cigarette smoke and the sound of music from inside the club. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, and it was intoxicating. chris was easy to talk to, and his friends were just as engaging.

As the night wore on, the conversation shifted to our respective lives. Chris told me about his band, and how they'd been playing together since high school. "We're not signed or anything yet," he admitted, "but we're hoping to get there soon." I nodded, impressed by their dedication.

I told them about my studies, and how I was working on my portfolio to apply to art schools. They seemed genuinely interested in my work."You know," Chris said, tapping his ash into an empty beer can, "we're actually looking for someone to design our album cover. If you're ever interested, you could always give us a shout." I felt a thrill of excitement run through me at the thought of working with them.

Madi, the girl with the long brown hair, perked up at this suggestion. "Oh, yeah? That'd be awesome, You should totally do it," I nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "I'll think about it, but Thanks for the offer."

The rest of the night passed in a haze of laughter and conversation. As the sky began to lighten in the east, we made our way back into the club to say our goodbyes. The music was still thumping, but the energy in the room had shifted. People were starting to head home or make their way to the after-parties.

Chris, Madi, and I exchanged phone numbers as we said our goodbyes, promising to stay in touch.

as I walked in the empty streets, the smell of cigarettes and perfume still clinging to my clothes, I couldn't help but feel a sense of elation. I had never experienced anything like this before, and it was like a breath of fresh air.

the sun was just beginning to rise, casting a warm glow over the city. I decided to take a detour through the park on my way home. the dew-covered grass felt cool beneath my feet as I made my way toward a quiet bench. I sat down, leaning back, and took in the peaceful morning scene, as I thought about the events of the previous night.

°˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖°

this was heavily inspired by the song meddle about and the show NANA 😝 (I cried for a whole week after watching it)

anyways hope u guys like this 🤞😕

[nakunakunomi]

This drabble is part of my summer celebration collection! Prompt: Relax Characters featured: Zoro (One Piece), 2nd person GN Reader Requested by: anon [a/n]: Zoro is my most requested character for this collection. Despite being open for 7+ fandoms at the time and only having 40 requests done by followers, 4 of them are Zoro. So I was surprised to see I hadn't written any of them yet. Here is number one, which again is longer than intended, oopsie. Enjoy!

There was SO MUCH to do. You weren’t really sure how you managed to get yourself a to-do list with an almost uncountable amount of items on it, but there you were and you were feeling yourself lose control slightly. Usually you were better at managing your lists, but it seemed like the Sunny was on imagined fire, and you were the only one running back and forth to fix it. 

No one seemed to be experiencing the same urgency as you were, but they definitely were noticing it. Sanji had made you some extra snacks, Robin had offered to read with you for a bit as a break, and Chopper had reminded you that you definitely needed some sleep, because the way things were going, you were slowly losing more and more hours, with no way to catch up on them. 

It all came to a halt when you were in the midst of checking something in storage, and you were forcefully picked up by the waist and slung over someone’s shoulder. You let out a yell in surprise, quieting quickly when you recognized it was Zoro who had picked you up. 

“Zoro, let me go!” You smacked him on the back, feeling nothing but hard muscle in return, he didn’t even flinch. Your slaps probably more akin to a massage than anything else. “Y/n. It’s been three days of you stressing for no reason. We still have more than a week before we even reach the next island. You need rest. Now.” 

It was not a question, it was fact. Zoro very rarely interrupted your rituals and routines, the fact that you functioned well independently from each other was one of the strengths of your relationship. Him interfering was a surefire sign that you had been truly overdoing it, and you knew the minute he had picked you up, you had already lost the fight. 

You were plopped down unceremoniously in a hammock, and pleasantly surprised to notice the green-haired swordsman was about to follow you in there. You didn’t even get time to protest, before you could even open your mouth, your head was already pulled close to him, the way you always loved to fall asleep, head on his chest. 

Your muscles relaxed instinctively, and just his slow heartbeat was enough a lullaby for you to feel sleep taking over, your brain finally unwinding. Zoro was asleep before you though, and you smiled, wondering if he even realized just how much of an effect he had on you. You pressed a soft kiss to his chest and fell asleep.

[towards-toramunda]

I had a moment earlier in this campaign (maybe around episode 25-35?) when I thought “…hm maybe Ashton and Orym would be a good ship” and then episode 40 happened and I’ve been in an ashrym brain rot ever since.

Like don’t get me wrong I’m a Dorym and Callowmoore and Laudmoore respecter, but I just love the care and softness and respect Ashton and Orym hold for each other any time they have a one on one. And I had a feeling that without any healers there would be a moment of one of them caring for the other in this recent arc, but seeing Orym just reach for Ashton and begin massaging their hand because he knows they’re in pain even if they don’t say it? Absolutely perfect 10/10 no notes.

The world has been cruel to both of them in different ways, and they’ve both been overlooked in different ways. The soldier in the background doing what he’s told always. The broken thief laying on the ground to be left behind. The loneliness that comes from chronic pain. The loneliness that comes from being a widower. Orym constantly trying to turn towards kindness even when its hard. Ashton blaming the world, blaming themselves, believing that they deserved to be left behind.

Ashton telling Orym that it must be hard to be the good one all the time, and they’re here if he needs any help. Carrying him to his room after he fell off the air ship. Asking him what he thinks when he’s been silent. Looking to him. Trusting him with their pain when he knows they rarely trust.

Orym with ties to something that sounds familiar (Ashari?) treating Ashton with kindness. Telling them to breathe. Blotting out their nosebleed. Teaching them to meditate. Massaging their hand. Showing them that they’re part of the group. That their pain matters to someone else.

Since the recent 4 sided dive and Liam mentioning that Orym was about 5 when Vax went to Zephra: I’ve been thinking about how Orym is 35-36 and Ashton is 24-28, and I feel like we can see all the time how much Ashton looks up (pun intended) to Orym. He’s older, he’s more experienced, and they’re constantly looking to Orym for wisdom and asking him what he thinks and following him. Ashton may be a punk who has problems with authority, but he has no problem putting Orym in a position of authority. At the end of the day Ashton believes in him, and they believe in him because hes kind.

And just to be clear: if they don’t turn into any canon romantic pairing or anything I’d be totally fine with that. I just love their dynamic so much. I love the tanks constantly going into the heat of the fray, but helping and understanding each other. (Almost similarly to how I felt with Beau and Yasha last campaign)

[boringkate]

I watched Lena Dunham's Sharp Stick (2022) with a babe last month. Which I absolutely loved!!!

It's never explicitly acknowledged, but the main character is clearly supposed to be (despite the producers claiming otherwise) in some way neurodivergent. Or something. She's meek and impossibly sexually naive (to the point where me and the girl I watched it with had initially assumed the character was intended to be a child). Apparently they had approached an autism sexuality advocate to work as a consultant for the film before backpeddling.

Trans girls tend to be autistic.

The main character also had a hysterectomy (as did Lena Dunham).

Trans girls tend to be infertile.

She's shown taking estrogen.

Trans girls tend to take estrogen.

She becomes obsessed with porn and begins having one night stands with random men from the internet in hopes of finding validation by proving her sexual desirability.

Trans girls tend to do that shit.

It ends with her realizing and leaning into her impregnation fetish (while getting fucked by the one black guy she knows who had just brought over some 40s and called them homies and also while her black step sister's hands unexpectedly drift in from off screen to hold her because even when she managed to push it off to the last second Lena Dunham is incapable of being chill and normal about race).

Trans girls can't go ten seconds without making the same joke about how if you don't think you can get a trans girl pregnant then you just aren't trying hard enough (and the frequent fetishization of black men in trans and especially neighboring sissy communities can't really be denied).

Also the bartender is played by Tommy Dorfman (a trans woman) with it being her first time playing a character with a girl name.

But I'm not trying to suggest it's intentionally a movie about the tgirl excperience. That would be silly. Really the takeaway should be that (no matter how varied women's lives may be) we (trans women and cis women etc) can still always find common ground and shared excperiences. We're all in this together.

But anyways I was looking at Lena Dunham's Instagram yesterday (I've been off and on again rewatching Girls, so she's stayed on my mind).

One post features the music video she directed starring famed trans girl Hari Nef.

Another post shows that she recently read trans boy Elliot Paige's memoir Paige Boy.

Another post shows a conversation she had with Jon Bernthal (on his podcast) where she explains the word cis to him and talks about having also explained it to her husband (this is the only clip from her appearance on the podcast that she chose to post).

BTW did you know that she was an executive producer for the 2021 show Genera+ion (which I recall featuring a trans boy actor playing a cis boy character who gets a girl pregnant).

Fascinating!

Meanwhile. Ten years earlier. In 2013 (a year into my transition and a year before Time declared that we've reached the trans tipping point) an episode of Girls features a doorman telling one of the titular Girls that "a tranny walked in last time and he was just walking around the floors, but it was nothing." (lmao)

UPDATE: s05e02 features a "did you just assume my pronouns" bit. (in a way that felt reactionary and gross because the theyfab saying it was an absurd hipster barista that the audience isn't intended to sympathize with)

UPDATE UPDATE: s06e02 features the leader of a group for women entrepreneurs saying "For those of you asking on our Facebook if the group is open to trans women: The answer is: We don't know. Okay?" (which I thought was fun)

UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE: s06e03 (the literal next episode) "I even went to a couple of hookers and one of them had a dick."

[sjofn-lofnsdottr]

— B A S I C S

Name: Bellinor Lanverlais

Nicknames: Dusk, which is the name he goes by in almost all circumstances. The vast majority of people don't know his actual first name.

Age: 39, I'll tick him over to 40 when Dawntrail starts. Happy birthday?

Nameday: 21st Sun of the Second Umbral Moon

Race: Elezen, Wildwoodishgardian

Gender: Dude

Orientation: Pansexual, polyamorous

Profession: Gunbreaker, will still do DRK and DRG things occasionally. Also a carpenter.

— P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: Blondie blond blond with some white highlights that he doesn't want to think about but luckily blend in pretty well. He also has a beard. He will never shave it.

Eyes: Dark Green

Skin: Light skinned, but does look like he goes into the sun occasionally. He promises he goes into the sun occasionally.

Tattoos/scars: Nope!

— F A M I L Y

Parents: Extremely alive. His father is named Bernon, and he was a pikeman in the Ishgardian military until he and his wife deserted left, and he is currently a maverick Wood Wailer who should probably hand in his badge. His mother is named Gwenolie, she was a chirugeon in Ishgard, which is how she met Bernon in the first place. She retired completely upon reaching Gridania ... as far as Gridania knows, at least.

Siblings: His twin sister, Orianne. Her nickname, of course, is Dawn. She's a botanist most of the time, unless she feels like the Scions are not doing a good enough job keeping an eye on her brother. Then she's a lancer who recently picked up reaper, since it's hard to feel like you're pulling your weight when your brother and his boyfriend bro are both extra special dragoons, you know?

Grandparents: ALSO VERY ALIVE, although they're all getting on in years. Gwenolie's parents are Lionnet and Aurelle Tirauland. Lionnet is a (mostly) retired chocobo trainer, Aurelle is a retired knight. Bernon's parents are Ciceroix and Iliette Lanverlais. Ciceroix was also a pikeman in the military (now retired) and Iliette is a retired archer.

In-laws and Other: It's kinda funny this asks for in-laws but not ... partners? Farron is Dusk's almost-husband, which makes Farron's semi-adopted dad, Bjalla, Dusk's almost-father-in-law. Farron also has two kids, twins, named Sverre and Kara, who seem keen to adopt Dusk. The twins live on the First. It's a whole thing. And Estinien is ... <waves hand vaguely>.

Pets: Dusk and Farron are currently raising two amaro babies, which probably count. Their names are Eo Lad and Sul Lad, and they're adorable. There's also Duck, of course, but he's not a pet.

— S K I L L S

Abilities: He has an excellent memory for names and visuals. He is an excellent carpenter. He's also usually pretty good in social situations.

Hobbies: He enjoys woodworking, playing piano or cello, or painting when it's Hobby Time.

— T R A I T S

Most Positive Traits: Kind, determined, resilient.

Most Negative Traits: Sore loser, has a very difficult time telling concise stories, tends to hide when he's Not Alright from most people.

— L I K E S

Colors: Greens and blues.

Smells: Sawdust, and the way super cold, crisp air smells.

Textures: I have never thought about this question, and I do not intend to start. He probably likes when he runs a hand over something he's sanded and it feels perfect, though. Does that count?

Drinks: Likes finding new teas to try. Also a closet wine snob.

— O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: Not tobacco! :D

Drinks: As mentioned, he is into wine. He usually stops drinking once he feels himself getting tipsy, but ... not always.

Drugs: don't worry about it

Mount Issuance: His chocobo Pike, of course. He also has an amber draught chocobo named Lance.

Been Arrested: Uhhh unless that one time in Ul'dah counts, nope!

I was tagged by @alixennial, thank you! I don't want to tag every single FFXIV mutual I have, so uh ... if you're one of them, do the thing if you want. :P

[sn0wbat]

a row of einarrs because.... why not tbh.

honestly i just wanted to have a reference for his hair and skin colors at different ages. he changed a bit

details under cut

toddler

born very light blond

still very baby

child

hair may start darkening, as is usual with most natural blondes.

turned out to be surprisingly good at sewing, placing him with the women at an earlier age than usual. :^)

he was trying to give his dress a more masculine tunic cut, because he liked it more for some reason. unfortunately, he did it maybe a little too well.

still a bit clueless about his gender situation, but Something Felt Off

really liked roleplaying... you will never guess what gender all his best characters were. (boys. they were all boys.)

teen

so apparently lye bleach was a thing?? anyway he probably did that with his hair at this point.

came out as a boy 🏳️‍⚧️

going by einarr for real now

father immediately accepted him, mother not so much.

constantly wearing an oversized capelet over his entire torso because he was dysphoric as hell.

fledgling vampire (age 24-40)

ah, the hubris of exploring on his own while the rest of the group were trying to pillage this mysteriously empty castle. it's an old ruin. and those just intrigue him a lot. they are fascinating to him

anyway so basically he ran into a vampire while going viking. ended up in a duel. died.

in his early vampire years, his growing bat form's white fur started to overtake his existing hair color. kinda similar to graying hair.

once he realized how hardy vampires were, did top surgery on himself with a sword.

then he had to stitch himself up. with his existing sewing skills - a skillset deemed to be very feminine at the time. something poetic about that i feel

stuck in a castle. doesn't escape until he's like 50

middle vampire (age 200-700)

hair has already gone fully pale a long time ago.

skin is getting paler. more purple in tone.

ears are slowly growing in size, gaining transparency along with it

however, has also figured out how to blend in with humans again at this time (through vampiric illusions that make him look mortal)

peasant for a while. growing dislike of kings and authority figures. ends up joining the pirates in his seventh (?) century

has been caught drinking blood from humans, has been caught stealing from the rich, and has been to jail several times. usually escaped pretty easily with vampire powers. has been responsible for at least one mass jailbreak

the look of his clothing actually shifted a lot over all these centuries, but this art wasn't really focused on clothes, so i just picked something basic

ancient vampire (900+)

skin gone blue. fangs gone long.

ears reached their max size a while ago.

gotten quite nostalgic; started to wear norse-style clothing in his own time again. it's comfy and familiar!

among the mortals it has been many centuries of trying to match contemporary fashions. genuinely enjoys working with textiles though, so it's no big deal. yeah he still does this.

cannot keep up a human disguise for more than a couple hours... maintaining an illusion gets exhausting when it's so many things at once.

mostly goes for fish blood these days. it's not the greatest blood, but he likes the taste of it the most and it's less of a hassle to get when he's at sea all the time.

avoids the greater vampire community. he feels it's too much drama all the time, all while they just tend to think of him as a hermit, and well. they're not wrong.

has been known to take some odd jobs here and there, pretending to be mortal.

i did not actually intend to write down this much but!! i just like him a lot. gotta stop myself from writing too much. there's so much more i could say about him, but we'd be here forever

[octoshott]

So. Side Order, huh?

I've been chewing on my thoughts over this for a good few days now. Want to spit them out somewhere. Vague-ish spoilers ahead.

I want to preface this with saying that I love Splatoon, I've been playing it since 1, really dropped off near the end of 2. Nintendo made Octo Expansion for me, they released it on my birthday and I love it so fucking much.

Side Order is fun, but lacking criminally in content.

You can argue Roguelites are like this in general, its the core princible to replay them over and over again and as someone who enjoys Roguelites, I agree!

However, a key thing that good roguelites do is continously give you a reason to keep playing- whether that be addictive gameplay or, usually, good story and lacing that in with difficulty that becomes the players goal to lessen- It rewards the player for being curious, experimental and above all else persistant.

I am fully aware that difficulty, due to Splatoon's target audience, in something like a roguelite was never going to be an easy thing to balance let alone pull off but having the main plot resolve itself once you hit the top of the tower was, in my opinion, the first of its blunders.

I feel as if the Splatoon developers know how much the lore and worldbuilding of these games matter to players. Side Order was advertised in very similar veins to Octo Expansion. The trailers had mystery and intrigue with clear connections to the well recieved and loved Octo Expansion to the point of having the same protagonist among other simularities.

They were clearly teasing this to be a successor of SOME capacity to Octo Expansion. And even as I went into this expecting it to be nothing like OE in terms of it's personal weight, I wasn't expecting something so short.

Classically, in roguelites that focus on story, you would gain story beats the more you replay. And techincally you gain this with the keys gathered from each fully cleared palette. But usually your story rewards in roguelites come from clearing or attempting runs and rewards:

With Side Order's story being resolved the MOMENT you step onto floor 30 with no real context unless you've intentionally avoided the top or have genuinely been slowed by its difficult (which I assume is what the devs intended) makes it's climax feel fast paced and lackluster- undeserved, even.

And, yes, I am fully aware that when you climb the tower agani after the credits role, you begin gain more lore about whats going on. But with the actual, main threat neutralized in every possible way it feels as if this lore should've been offered to us much sooner and much more spread out for a better pay off.

It's story feels like its being told out of order and, in my personal opinion, the themes and actual telling methods of Side Order we're a largely missed opportunity to tell something a bit more indepth. Climbing a tower that gives you essentially nothing until you reach floor 30 (which in my experience takes about 35-40 minutes) only to recieve about two scentences of lore is incredibly tiring and feels dissastifying when the main plot is already over.

It's lack of variation in level design, tasks and chips doesn't help with the climb each time if you're looking for the lore or just to 100% either. And you can argue this is a roguelite problem, but Splatoon's scenario's for a tower climb are pitifully small and you will start to seem repeat almost immediatly on your second or third run.

I also feel like it relies far too heavily on the player knowing and caring about Octo Expansion. I'm not saying that I think it was a bad idea to have most of what's going on in Side Order happening because of Octo Expansion's events. Hell, I was happy when they were very blatently showing this early on.

But it does very little with its ties to Octo Expansion, making Side Order feel like its constantly struggling to be its own thing away from the original DLC.

I think I can almost see what they wanted to go for here, and its frustrating, it felt close to something at least telling a decent story.

Every single little beat I've gotten has helped me understand more and more what they were going for, but since the main conflict is already resolved I find it hard to be excited and more frustrated that I wasn't given these during my initial playthrough.

I feel as though the roguelite formula was an interesting idea that they polished the best of their ability and to make work both for casual and experience players- but I think thats where the problem comes in.

With Side Order being the same price as Octo Expansion and offering very little in terms of replayability and most especially for me, story, the whole thing ends up feeling like a muddled mess that would've worked better had the roguelite aspect perhaps been dropped in general for a general tower climb.

Missed opportunies feel like they decorate Side Order in a way that leaves me fairly disappointed.

I think, overall, Side Order is a fun time that can be enjoyed but the way it was implimented into the gameplay formula was largely a mistake, especially coupled with the marketing of this being something more indepth with its story when it's not, and I can absolutely understand why I'm seeing a lot of disappointment for it.

[dragon-ball-meta]

Akio Iyoku And The Future Of Dragon Ball

Got a huge news drop last night, courtesy of @SupaChronicles on Twitter. I've linked the full tweet if you want to read his translation of the original article sans editorializing, but I wanted to attempt to explain a few things here. This is unprecedented for the franchise, and we're in untested, but very exciting times right now. The short version is this: Akio Iyoku and Capsule Corporation Tokyo have succeeded in gaining control of the rights to the Dragon Ball Franchise, in all but the manga side of things, for the next ten years. DAIMA is actually their first project. Now, some excerpts from the translated article: "Indomitable Dragon Ball, Inheriting the Mission: A Global Strategy to Reach the Next Generation" featuring Akio Iyoku, the President of Capsule Corporation Tokyo 'Dragon Ball' will celebrate its 40th anniversary in 2024. Dragon Ball is a unique and amazing work. Rather than thinking of the work in relative or uniform terms, the keynote is to think about how it should be done as a work of art. As the Executive Producer of a work with unprecedented longevity, my mission is to expand and convey what the original creator, Akira Toriyama, has created. I will continue to produce works, such as anime series, movies, and games, over the next 10 years. (...) Adopting what is popular at the moment does not increase the probability of success. I will not be swayed by the current trends, but will create works that I feel will be 'good enough'."

Iyoku is saying that, in his new capacity as the executive producer of Dragon Ball, he's doing this as a means of protecting the Dragon Ball IP as a work of art, and wants to release content that he feels upholds that integrity, rather than trying to use the IP simply to chase current trends and try to cling to relevancy. He says he also wants to keep the spirit of the series Toriyama intended. Now what's especially interesting to ME is this bit. He stops short of making any sort of direct confirmation, but this really, REALLY seems to lend credence to the reports that Shueisha was deliberately leaving Dragon Ball out to dry in favor of One Piece. "There was a time when the Dragon Ball craze, which had spread around the world over the past 40 years, had died down. When I became the head of Shueisha's Dragon Ball Room in 2016, I could not visualize what was really happening. 7-8 years ago, I went to a huge event in Brazil called "CCXP." I was told that Japanese anime were popular in South America, but there was a discrepancy from what I was told. The feedback from fans was weak. It may have been at the peak of its popularity when it was on-air in South America. (...) I also thought it was the result of relying on old-fashioned zeal. Therefore, starting with the 'Dragon Ball Super Broly' movie in 2018, we took steps such as actively participating in events. I felt concerned that Dragon Ball has not been expanded worldwide. Originally, we didn't see the strength and diffusion power of the work. We need to take a closer look at this and see if we can do more. We are not looking for a "one-size-fits-all" approach, but rather, we are looking for events such as the Dragon Ball World Championships, the expansion of games, creating facilities, and anything else that we can do. We will work on them in parallel."

And this bit: "Never before was there such a simultaneous worldwide reception of anime. (...) It can be said that we are now able to do things that we had not even considered before. From the beginning, I began to think about the overseas expansion of Dragon Ball. With 'Dragon Ball DAIMA,' which will be released in Fall 2024, we are taking on the challenge of creating an anime series with a completely original story. I am glad that all our works have been well-received overseas. 'DAIMA' was announced at New York Comic Con. The 'Dragon Ball' series is recognized around the world. It makes no sense to announce it somewhere domestic. Comic-Con is a great place to announce your work. People who understand the value of the culture are gathered there, to begin with, and we chose Comic-Con because of its ability to spread our work throughout the world. Overseas expansion is currently being considered as a necessary means of spreading the word about our work. If we compare the flow of manga titles selling in book format and then finally becoming anime to a river, the overseas developments were the ones that followed the river, meaning that in the past it was a "fan" (in the sense that the overseas expansion followed later.) I am convinced that Dragon Ball has pioneered many things as a Japanese anime. I have a sense of mission that if there is something that no one else has done, I must continue to challenge it." That sounds to me as if this was done at least in part because he felt the series was being mishandled, both on a promotional and quality control front. He also feels that there needs to be content created at least semi-regularly to keep the franchise relevant, as opposed to announcing something and then leaving long gaps of nothing, as almost happened after the Super anime went on hiatus. There's also some more implication about the series not being promoted to its fullest. "- The industry is over-competitive. It is tough to see the competition among anime (due to the emergence of streaming sites, etc.). Competition has become excessive. We must not create a situation where a manga becomes anime, and when the anime is over, the content ends as is. The ideal situation is to create a situation where the average viewer sees the content. We are in a cycle of consumption, and in some aspects, the cycle is becoming short-lived. I don't think it's good at all to have a boom that builds up and then burns down, which can be a factor in the content not lasting long. It will be tough if we do not create a place to compete differently from anime as content. It is advisable for works that are popular now to be distributed simultaneously around the world to repeat generations and reach the next stage of popularity. (...) In order to bring in overseas strength, a leading role is needed. In order for a producer to take on this role, they must transcend the boundaries of the corporate organization. There must be someone who has a "birds-eye view" of the work and is in a position to say to each company, "I think you should do this." I push myself to be a catalyst for this through various discussions. For Japanese content to continue, it is necessary to have someone who can say, "The status quo is not good enough."" So essentially, we're going to see more content. We're going to see more quality control ON said content. Both are being done to respect Toriyama's work, and to actually try to be competitive as opposed to simply relying on the legacy and the baked-in fandom to carry it in the sea of anime and manga franchises out there. He also feels that they shouldn't try to solely rely on adapting things, and create original content as well, while keeping it in line with the spirit of the series as opposed to just chasing whatever's popular. That's the intent, at least. Now we just need to wait and see how this all shakes out.