#let’s bring it back so the antis can’t find us

[louisisalarrie]

we used to have the most weird tags back in the day… like it wasn’t just #larry or #larry stylinson… no, no, no… some of them were:

- #hario and louigi

- #harris toyles

- #lourry toyles

like we couldn’t just stick to Larry? In what world does Harris Toyles sound better than Larry Stylinson? The Harris doesn’t even make sense??? Hahahahaha

[theobsessivesideblog]

Hook Where it Hurts

Astarion finds himself Experiencing Emotions™ after a battle takes a turn for the worse.

Warnings: violence/injury, death, angst BUT happy ending I promise

—————————————————————

Your time in the Underdark had been relatively uneventful, all things considered. Sure there were Minotaurs, the occasional bulette, and exploding mushrooms, but there was something strangely beautiful about the alien landscape. The myconids were a friendly, if odd and slightly bloodthirsty bunch. Your conversation with Omeluum had proved enlightening, and trade with Blurg and Derryth had garnered you some useful items. Overall you couldn’t bring yourself to regret following Halsin’s advice to take the subterranean path to the Shadow-Cursed lands. 

You set up camp at the Myconid colony, heading out at first light (or at least what you assumed was first light without the actual sun to confirm) to begin your trek towards the lake Sovereign Spaw had pointed you toward. An hour into your walk a glow appeared in the distance, lighting up the gloom of the cavernous landscape. 

“I say, that can’t be… I do believe that may be a Sussur tree!” Gail exclaimed from behind you. “Powerful things, and rare, uniquely capable of completely nullifying magical forces, just fascinating!” he continued, eyes alight at the prospect of examining one up close. 

“Sussur… that sounds familiar,” Karlach pondered. 

“Ah! Right you are my fiery friend, there were instructions in the village about making a weapon with the bark! That would likely prove to be a powerful tool, we should certainly take a look.” 

You gazed towards the tree, comparing its location with the heading you had gotten from Spaw. In all likelihood you would end up passing nearby, may as well go on purpose. 

“Seems like it won’t be too much of a detour,” you announced, glancing around the group. “All in favor?”

“I’d never say no to a new kick-ass weapon,” Karlach grinned. 

“That’s two for, Astarion?” you asked, looking over towards the rogue.

“I doubt our resident magician will shut up about it until we pay a visit, so fine. Let’s go traipsing through the monster-infested dark to look at the magic tree,” Astarion said with a dramatic eye roll. 

“Anti-magic, technically, you see the—“ Gale’s chatter came to an abrupt halt as Astarion shot him a withering glance. “Right, yes, um. Shall we?” 

——————— 

You had to admit, the Sussur tree was breathtaking. Far larger than you had initially realized, clearly ancient and powerful. You glanced over to see your companions’ reactions, breath catching as your eyes met Astarion’s. His pale skin was nearly pearlescent in the ethereal glow, the blue light making his red eyes darker than usual. He stared back, lips pulling into a smirk, and a shiver of desire ran down your spine as he began prowling towards you. You’d been playing this game of cat and mouse for days, taking turns taunting and tempting each other and you were curious to see who would break first.

A movement behind Astarion’s shoulder broke you out of your reverie, eyes catching on a monstrous creature slowly beginning to descend toward your troupe from the raised roots of the tree. Your face paled and you saw Astarion’s brow furrow in your periphery as he registered that he had lost your attention, turning to see what had distracted you. He stiffened as he caught sight of the beast, silently reaching to retrieve an arrow while you hissed quietly towards Gale and Karlach in an attempt to get their attention. Karlach looked your way and you subtly gestured towards the creature as it crept closer to the group, trying to hold back the urge to laugh as she reached out and smacked Gale’s arm, interrupting his lecture on the properties of the blossoms.  

A few more wordless glances between the four of you had everyone subtly moving into position, preparing for what was sure to be a short battle. You glanced across the clearing, locking eyes with each of your companions before giving a tight nod as all of you attacked at once. The creature let out a shriek as it was barraged by both metal and magic, falling from its root bridge and hitting the ground below with a sickening crunch. 

As the adrenaline faded from your system and you walked forward to observe the corpse you were nearly disappointed by how easily the beast had fallen. Not that you ever wanted to get your ass kicked but you had certainly expected that a monster with as many teeth and claws as this one would’ve put up a bit more of a fight. Karlach had turned away with a dissatisfied pout on her lips as she sheathed her weapon and Astarion had already started to wander off to investigate the rest of the cave as you gently nudged the cooling body on the ground with the tip of your boot. It was grotesque up close, a bird-like skeletal face filled with vicious teeth and enormous, razor-sharp hooks protruding from the end of each arm in place of hands. Beside you Gale was surveying the corpse with a strangely joyous expression.

“What a fascinating beast! We got quite lucky, they’re exceptional hunters, certainly wouldn’t want to run into one of these unprepared! They’re called Hook Horrors!” he announced gleefully to no one in particular.

“Did someone say something about whores?” Astarion called from across the cavern. Karlach snorted loudly as she and Gale began making their way over towards him and you rolled your eyes as your lips curled into a smile.

“Yes, Star, Gale has deeply insulted me,” you called back sarcastically. “You may need to come defend my honor! In fact, I–”

You cut off abruptly as a shriek pierced through the air, echoing off the hard rock. You all whipped toward the sound, weapons coming back to the ready as another hook horror climbed out from behind a patch of roots close to your three companions. As you watched it emerge you distractedly thought that it would be nice to go back to fighting above ground again. The way sound bounced around the rocks always made it sound like there was something behind you, and some paranoid instinct had you sending a cursory glance back over your shoulder to calm your nerves. 

You froze in place, realizing your fears had been well founded as another hook horror silently emerged from around the corner of the cavern wall and leapt towards you. You barked out a startled curse and jumped back as it took a swing at you. The first horror may have fallen easily enough against the four of you, but your companions were locked in battle on the other side of the cavern and you were well aware that a one-on-one fight was one you wouldn’t win. 

You kept your eyes locked on the creature as you began backing your way across the cave, hoping you could get within range of your party before it lost patience and struck. Based on the sounds the other monster was emitting it wouldn’t be a threat for much longer. You tightened your hold on your weapon, preparing to strike as you crept back another step, heart skipping as the rock you had stepped on shifted underneath your boot. You glanced down for a split second, trying to find your footing, a sense of dread filling you as you saw the hook horror jump into motion in your peripheral vision. 

The hook drove into your side and you screamed. Pain the likes of which you’d never felt before tore through you as the hook horror yanked its arm across your abdomen, tearing through your stomach. You thought you heard someone shout, but they sounded a million miles away as you collapsed to your knees before the beast, your sight dimming around the edges. You vaguely registered a flash of blades and a wet thump as the hook horror’s head hit the ground before your vision was taken over by Astarion’s panicked visage. His hands gripped your face, feeling unnaturally warm against your cheeks as the world faded away.  

“No no no, you can’t die, get UP damn you!” he shouted, desperately trying to staunch the flow of blood from the jagged cut across your midsection even as a small voice in the back of his mind told him it was too late. His shaking hands were covered in your blood but he had never found it less appealing, appetite long gone as he stared at your unnaturally pale face. “Please, my sweet, don’t do this to me,” he pleaded, vision clouding as his eyes filled with tears. He saw a red blur on his left as Karlach kneeled down beside him and he instinctively curled around you protectively, arms gently slipping around your back as he clutched your unmoving form against his chest.

“Astarion, we need–”  

“Give me a healing potion. Now.” he ordered, voice dangerously low.

“It’s too late, Astarion. We need to get her body back–”

“Don’t say it like that,” he growled shakily. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, trying to steady himself but choking on the scent of your blood in the air. “A resurrection scroll then,” he demanded, glaring in Gale’s direction.

“I… it won’t work. The tree–”

Astarion snarled out a curse and pressed his forehead against your frigid cheek, desperately trying to contain the sob attempting to claw its way out of him. 

“We need to get her to camp, Astarion,” Karlach repeated gently, a small line of steam rising from where a tear had just rolled her cheek. “We need Shadowheart. I can carry–”

“No,” he murmured, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face with a trembling hand before adjusting one of his arms beneath your knees and standing with you cradled against him. “I’ve got her.” 

———————

They were farther from camp than Astarion had realized, though perhaps it only felt that way because he had spent the entire walk staring at your lifeless face. He felt numb by the time they arrived, hardly hearing Karlach shout for Shadowheart as they passed the first of the tents. In the back of his mind he was aware that their other companions had gathered around them frantically asking questions, but the words didn’t register and he continued forward without acknowledging any of them. He walked to his tent in a trance, gingerly setting you down on his bedroll and kneeling at your side as his shaking hands tried to arrange your limp body into a more comfortable configuration.

“What in the hells happened?” Shadowheart snapped as Karlach pulled her roughly into the tent. He should answer, should try to explain, but he was frozen kneeling by your side, unable to pull his attention away from your unblinking eyes.

“She- she was-” Karlach bit back a sob, trying to catch her breath. “We got caught off guard. She was alone. She shouldn’t have been alone,” Karlach choked out, dissolving into tears. Shadowheart hurried to your side and knelt across from Astarion, immediately beginning to unfasten the straps on your armor and peeling the bloodied metal away from your skin.

“We need to get her cleaned up so I can see what I'm doing. Astarion, can you fetch me some water and clean washcloths?” she asked, continuing to remove your ruined clothing. When he remained unmoving she looked up to where he sat, his gaze unwaveringly focused on the brutal cut across your torso. 

“Astarion,” she repeated softly, waiting as he slowly drug his gaze up to meet her eyes. “I swear to you I will do everything in my power to fix this, but I need your help.” She paused, waiting until Astarion gave a small nod of acknowledgement to rattle off the things she needed, her attention returning to your still form as Astarion rose and darted around his tent gathering what she had requested. He returned a heartbeat later, depositing the items at her side as she instructed him to wet a cloth and begin wiping away as much blood as he could. 

She began chanting a prayer as he worked, hovering her hands over your sternum while he continued to gently clean your skin. Your blood had been a gift once, a delight. Now he shuddered as he attempted to ring out the bloodied rag in his hand, barely fighting the urge to retch as it dripped from his hands into the reddened bowl of water at his side.

A light sparked in Shadowheart’s hands, warm and radiant, and Astarion stopped his work, dropping the stained cloth and gently reaching out with trembling fingers to take hold of your hand. The light in her palms grew as she focused, directing its power towards you. A glowing beam split from the whole and snaked downwards, weaving through the jagged edges of your wound and drawing them together while the remainder of the light floated upward, hovering over your heart. She continued chanting, her eyes drifting closed in concentration as the glowing orb started to lower, dimming as it sunk through your skin and into your chest. The room grew silent as Shadowheart completed the incantation and lowered her hands, looking you over carefully. 

“Did it… did it work?” Karlach whispered. “Is it supposed to take this long? Why isn’t she–”

Your chest rose as you gasped in air, the breath immediately turning to a cough at the uncomfortable stretch in your lungs. The air tasted of iron and magic and you frowned, trying to open your eyes to observe your surroundings but surprised to find your eyelids heavy and uncooperative. Cool fingers brushed against your face, smoothing away the furrow in your brow and you instinctively relaxed at the familiar touch. 

“All is well, darling,” you heard Astarion whisper, voice sounding oddly constricted. “Rest now.” 

You were still confused, still couldn't remember how you’d gotten here or what had happened. It felt as if something important had occurred, surely you shouldn’t sleep now. You heard the soft murmur of voices around you, a strained chuckle, a soft sniffle. You frowned again, struggling once more to open your eyes and earning an exasperated sigh from the vampire beside you. 

“Please, pet,” he breathed, lips ghosting over your skin as he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. “Just sleep.” 

Your sense of unease fell away as Astarion began gently running his fingers through your hair. You felt him press another soft kiss against your forehead and relaxed into him, allowing yourself to drift off in his arms.

———————

The second Shadowheart had given the all clear Astarion had insisted everyone leave his tent. It was far too crowded and he wouldn’t have them waking you up when you were clearly in no condition to face their fussing. Even as he anchored himself in the sound of your steady heartbeat he still felt restless and off-balance, hands flitting over your sleeping form looking for something more to do. 

He felt ridiculous. You were here in front of him, healed and whole, and that should be the end of it. So why in the hells were his hands still trembling as he ensured your blankets were tucked around you? Why did his chest ache uncomfortably every time he caught a leftover whiff of your blood in the air? 

He huffed out a frustrated breath and sat on the ground beside you, staring at your sleeping face warily. This had never been part of his plan. He was never supposed to… care. Two centuries of distancing himself and building walls and somehow you had just waltzed right past his defenses and made yourself at home. He let out a defeated sigh and reached over, extracting your hand from the blankets to weave your fingers together with his. His gaze drifted to the steady rise and fall of your breathing and he found himself matching your pace, the tightly wound coil in his chest finally starting to loosen as you let out a soft snore. 

Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow he could deal with figuring out why that sound made him smile. Tomorrow he could obsess over how even just holding your hand made his whole body feel warmer. Tomorrow he could deal with the fact that in over 200 years of life he’d never before been as completely and utterly terrified as he had been today. For now, though, he would indulge. For tonight he would just let himself have this, whatever ‘this’ was. He closed his eyes and lifted your hand to his face, gently brushing his lips across your knuckles as he settled in to watch over you until morning. 

———————

The passage of time in the Underdark still confused you. You woke to the same darkness you had fallen asleep in, groggily wondering what time it was and how long you had been in bed. Your mouth was dry and your head was pounding. Had you been drinking? That would certainly explain why you couldn’t remember how you had gotten here. As unappealing as getting up sounded, you were parched and you couldn’t stay here forever. You hoisted yourself up and froze as pain suddenly lanced through you, your vision flickering and arms giving out as you whimpered and fell back toward your pillow only to be caught by a pair of cold, pale arms. 

“I wouldn’t recommend moving just yet, darling,” Astarion said, looking down at you with a worried frown on his face as he lowered you gently back to the bedroll. “Shadowheart did as much as she could last night but it took a lot out of her to bring you back. You’re not going anywhere until she’s gotten a chance to check on you again.” He leaned across you, determinedly avoiding meeting your eyes as he made sure your pillow was adequately fluffed. You saw a slight tremor run through him and heard a catch in his breath before he stood abruptly and walked across the tent, silently pouring you a glass of water from the pitcher in the corner.

“Bring me… back?” you questioned. Astarion stilled, jaw clenching as you took him in. His normally flawlessly tousled hair was tangled as if he had been running his hands through it and streaks of blood threaded through the white locks. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin looked even paler than normal, nearly translucent in the dim light. Your eyes flitted down to his wrinkled, untucked shirt and then around the tent, catching on the blood-soaked pile of clothes and armor to the side of the entrance and the red-stained towels laying by a bowl of water next to the bedroll. A dim memory flashed through your mind: a tree, an ambush, excruciating pain, and then… nothing. 

“Oh.” you whispered, exhaling shakily as you felt your chest constrict, breaths turning quick and shallow as the air seemed to thin. Astarion was by your side in an instant, one hand smoothing back your hair while the other cupped your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“It’s alright, darling, just breathe. You’re safe now.” he murmured, continuing to stroke your hair as your breathing calmed. He let out a tremulous sigh and closed his eyes, leaning down to press his forehead to yours. “It’s alright,” he repeated even more quietly, sounding almost as if he were talking to himself, pressing against you for a moment before inhaling sharply and pulling away.

“Shit, you’re in pain, aren’t you?” he said, looking you over with worried eyes and immediately moving to stand. “I’ll get Shadowheart, she said she’d come by when she woke but surely she’s had enough sleep by now and–” 

“Wait, Star, I… can you just stay here with me for a moment?” you asked in a small voice. Warmth spread through him at your request and he obliged immediately, lowering himself to sit at your side and gently taking your hand in his. You sat in companionable silence for a moment, studying his profile as he stared at your interlaced fingers. Up close the bags beneath his eyes were even more pronounced and you frowned, gently extricating your hand from his to touch his cheek. He leaned into your palm and placed a kiss against the inside of your wrist, eyes drifting closed as he basked in the warmth of your touch.

“Have you rested at all, Astarion?” you questioned. “You look exhausted.” 

He huffed a laugh and cracked open an eye to look at your face. 

“I’m not sure you want to get into comparing looks right now, darling. You’re even paler than me at the moment,” he chuckled, eyes closing once again as he leaned further into your touch, a teasing grin spread across his face. “I assure you, however you may think I look, you look ten times worse.” 

“Hm, that’s not too bad I suppose,” you smirked. “Ten times worse than you is still at least three times better than the average person.” 

Astartion barked out a surprised laugh and opened his eyes to look at you again, something in them softening as he saw your gentle smile. 

“Whoever would’ve thought math could be so romantic,” he murmured, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss against your lips. He raised a hand to brush a stray hair off your forehead and his smile faded, brow furrowing as his gaze met yours with uncharacteristic vulnerability. “Please don’t scare me like that again, my dear,” he breathed. “I’m- I don’t-” he sighed in frustration at the mess of emotions in his chest, hardly able to remember the last time his words had failed him so completely. 

“Don’t want to deal with this group of weirdos all by yourself?” you teased gently. He grinned back at you, gratitude in his eyes for not pushing him to collect his thoughts just yet. 

“Precisely that,” he chuckled, the tension leaving his shoulders. 

“Well I’m not going anywhere,” you said, smiling softly at him. “Also I wasn’t kidding before, you look like shit. You really should get some rest.” 

“Hm,” Astarion hummed mischievously, narrowing his eyes. “I would, but you see someone went and bled all over my bedroll. Adept though I may be at washing out blood stains it’s a rather thick fabric, it will take a while to dry back out. I may need to stay with… someone… for a day or two. Or three. Maybe more,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow suggestively as you huffed out a laugh. 

“You’re incorrigible,” you replied, grinning up at him and rolling your eyes. “I suppose it does seem that I’ve made rather a mess of your tent though…”

“You certainly have,” he murmured, shifting to hover over you, slowly kissing his way along your jaw.

“And it would only be fair to let you bunk with the cleanest person in camp…”

“Mmhmm…” he hummed, kissing closer and closer to your lips.

“And I’m sure Gale wouldn’t mind letting you crash with him–”

“Excuse me??” he crowed, pulling back indignantly as you burst out laughing below him. He scowled playfully and shook his head at you in feigned displeasure. “You wicked little thing,” he chuckled, leaning back down and finally pressing his lips to yours in a gentle, unhurried kiss. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Whatever it is,” you smirked, pulling him back to you for another kiss, “I'm sure I'll like it.” 

[bitchyycapricorn]

Sticky

MCU!Peter Parker x Reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 2.4K

Synopsis: Peter Parker loves to play with fun gadgets he finds around the Stark tower. Especially when it comes from an alien space ship. Which is exactly how you end up completely pressed to the ceiling of Peters room without knowing when you’ll come down.

Warnings: Smut!! Oral (f receiving), P in V, language, probably disappointing Mr. Stark

AN: lightly edited

Peter bursts through his bedroom door at the speed of light. “Y/N! Y/N!” Peter shouts, his eyes scanning his room for any signs of life. You peak your head out from under the covers, a small smile forming on your tired face.

“Hey Peter,” you mumble sleepily, snuggling your head into Peter’s pillow. “You’re home from Stark Towers already?” You hum groggily.

Peter shuffles over to his bed, plopping down next to your curled-up figure. “Mr. Stark helped me design new web shooters and-and I wanted to show you them,” Peter beams. A soft smile spreads across your face as you watch Peter shuffle around inside the black bag he brought home.

“Ah, damnit.” Peter mumbles pulling out some sort of gun filled with lava pink liquid. “I brought home the wrong bag. This is the anti gravity stick gun.” Peter frowns.

Your eyes shoot open wide, the aspect of an anti gravity sticky gun intriguing you. “Did you say anti gravity? Your smile widens as you sit up fully to take a look at the gun in Peter’s hand.

“Yeah, but we can’t you know…use it.” Peter laughs as he goes to put the gun back in the bag. Your hand is quick to stop his, wrestling the gun out of his grip. “Y/N/N, no, we can’t,” Peter pleas with you. “If Mr. Stark find out he’ll have my suit!” His words mean nothing to you in this moment, you’re too busy examining the cool piece of alien tech that Peter “accidentally” brought home.

“There’s no way you ‘accidentally’ brought this home, you were totally messing around with Tony’s gadgets again weren’t you!” A smirk tugs at your lips as you continue to examine the bright pink liquid.

Peter groans, throwing himself back on the bed. “Okay! So I got sticky fingers and was messing with some of Mr. Stark’s stuff. But I really did accidentally bring it home! I had two identical bags, one with the anti-gravity gun and the other with my webshooter upgrades. Bruce just walked into the lab and I got scared and threw the gun back into the bag and without thinking took off with the wrong bag…” Peter babbles.

“Wicked,” you grin, pointing the gun at Peter. “So if I shoot you with this…”

“No no, I shot a flowerpot to the ceiling and it was still stuck up there when I left, I was playing with the gun for over an hour.” He replies sternly.

You let out a small laugh “Oh, so I’m definitely sticking your sticky ass to the ceiling.” You’re still pointing the gun at Peter when he goes to take it back from you. As you wrestle for the gun, a beam of light shoots out of it and the next thing you know you’re on Peter’s ceiling.

“Y/N!” Peter squeaks. Your whole body is pressed up into the ceiling, limbs completely frozen. Arms and legs both slightly spread out. “Um, shit what do we do?” Peter looks at the gun again as if there will be directions written on the outside explaining how to reverse the effects.

“I feel like I’m not even allowed to be mad,’ You let out a laugh, looking down at a panicking Peter. “This is actually really cool, I feel so firm.”

“Y/N, this is not the time to be messing around, we need to get you down.” Peter’s face is pale and sweaty as he examines your body being pressed against his ceiling by some weird alien magic. His eyes wander from how silly your hair looks fluffing out, down to how nice your figure looks, completely trapped and unable to move. Peter tries pushing the thought away, hating his sudden urge to crawl up on the ceiling with you and experience what its like to make you scream while you’re stuck. That’s when it hits him, “I’m coming up with you, I’ll see if I can pry you off the ceiling okay?”

You scrunch your face up at his words, not liking that he’s making you come down already. “Come on Peter, this is so cool. See if you can move my limbs into different positions first.” Peter disappears from your view for a moment before he’s hovering… below you?

“Why do you insist on making things difficult by messing around?”

“Because.” You state simply. Peter rolls his eyes, gently tugging at your arm. Your arm easily swings forward before quickly being pulled back to the ceiling. “Whoa, do that again it felt weird. I feel like my whole body is ten times more sensitive right now.”

Peter pulls your arm again, it comes forward before reattaching to the ceiling, his mind racing from your words. He can’t help but wonder if your whole body is more sensitive. “We need to get you down now.” He urges, knowing that if you’re up here any longer he won’t be able to help himself. It was always a fantasy of his to fuck you on the ceiling, or high up on a wall. He just never trusted himself enough to go through with it. But now that you were already up here, he couldn’t help but feel the urge to start fucking you senseless.

“Peter, earth to Peter Parker,” you coo, trying to get your boyfriends attention.

Peter blinks, refocusing his gaze onto yours, “sorry, sorry I was just thinking.” His face flushes red as he begins to crawl down to your legs.

“You couldn’t have been normal and gone around my body? You had to crawl over me didn’t you?” You ask, watching has Peter’s body hovers over yours on his way down to try and unstick your feet permanently. “Your dick is in my face, and it’s hard.” You mumble, a blush spreading across your face now.

“S-shit sorry!” Peter tries to move out of your face by backing up, only to find he’s made it worse by dropping his hips too low and smacking you in the face with his boner.

Your body begins to shake with laughter, “Ow, I just got a face full of sweatpants dick.”

Peter freezes, hoping down from the ceiling completely. “I don’t think I’m getting you down.” He admits, his face was a brighter red than before as he looks up at you.

You let out a small hum, looking down at your embarrassed boyfriend. “Well, you got any ideas how we can pass the time?”

“I won’t admit anything.” Peter replies, quickly adverting his gaze.

“That made absolutely no sense dork, do you have any ideas or not?”

“None that I’m willing to admit.” He continues to avoid your gaze, focusing only on the closet door.

“You should come up here and fuck me then,” you tease, eyeing his still obvious boner.

Peter’s face goes pale, looking up at you again. “Does the gun give you the ability to read minds too?”

A laugh erupts from your chest a you goto shake your head ‘no,’ only to realize you can’t. “No Peter, I can’t read minds but I can read the message your massive boner sent me while it was in my face.”

“That’s not funny, you scared me. I thought you could tell what I was thinking and that you’d start yelling at me for thinking about how good your boobs look in such a dire situation.” Peter pauses, realizing he just admitted exactly what he didn’t want you to know. “Never mind, don’t listen to me ever again.”

“You think my boobs look good?” You beam.

“Stop.” Peter warns, feeling his blush return.

“Oh my god Parker, just get up here and fuck me.” You groan. Peter hesitates for a moment before giving you a small nod and jumping up onto the ceiling. He starts at your legs, repositioning them so your feet are pressing against the ceiling while your knees are bent. Once he’s got you properly repositioned, you feel him crawling between your legs. “Peter…what are you doing?” You can feel his hands grabbing onto your pajama shorts.

“Fucking you, like you asked so kindly.” A smirk settles on Peters face as he rips your pajama shorts down the middle seam, watching as they fall off your body and to the ground.

“Peter!” You cry, looking down at your now torn shorts.

“Well I had to get them off you!” Peter defends, slowly ripping your underwear off you as well. You let out a gasp as the cool air hits your heat, feeling your whole body flush under Peters warm touch, “Tank-top is next.” He smirks, tearing open the fabric to reveal your bare chest. The cold air washes over your, making you shiver as much as the magic would let you. Peter grabs your wrists, guiding your arms so they’re pinned above your head. “Is this what you want pretty girl?” He hums against your neck. His lips slowly leaving a trail of kisses down your body.

You let out a sharp moan “Y-yes,” his lips causing you to completely forget about your torn cloths on the ground. He continues to kiss down your neck until he reaches your tits. His right hand gently creasing the swell of your breast making you let out another moan. Leaning down, Peter brought your hard nipple into his mouth. Another moan escapes your lips as you fight to press your chest into Peters face, but with no success. You’re completely stuck, unable to move. Peter smirks against your boob at the attempt, continuing to swirl his tongue around your extremely sensitive nipple. “Fuck Peter,” you groan, wanting more than anything to run your fingers through his soft brown curls. Peter switches over to your other tit, giving the other nipple some attention as well.

The room fills with your soft moans as Peter kisses his way down your body and to your hot cunt. He pulls away for a moment, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before dragging his bottom lip down your thigh and back to your aching cunt. His head dips between your legs as you feel his tongue slowly slipping between your folds. The tip of his tongue makes contact with your clit, gently swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves causing you to let out a throaty moan. Peter’s arms slide around your thighs, pulling your body closer ever so slightly as he continues to eat you out. His face buried in your soft cunt, lick and sucking on your swollen clit.

A knot begins to form in your stomach within a few seconds and your realize just how sensitive your body really feels. The feeling of Peters mouth pleasuring you makes your body a shaking mess against the ceiling. Your limbs feel like they’re on fire as pleasure courses through your whole body. Pressing your head against the ceiling as hard as you could, you feel your orgasm wash over you. A sharp cry escapes your lips, your whole body convulsing from your release.

Peter slowly comes up from your cunt, a smile plastered on his face. “I see someone enjoyed that a little too much.” He teases, placing a soft kiss to your lips. You let out a small groan in response, your whole body still pulsating. You keep your eyes on Peter as he begins to strip from his sweatpants and white T-shirt. His abs flexing as he miraculously manages to strip while still on the ceiling.

“Look at my sticky boy,” you giggle as you admire the way the light makes his abs appear to glow.

Peter grins, crawling over, well under, your body and positioning his hips between your thighs. “I’m about to make you real sticky.” You raise your eyebrow at his comment, noticing the cheeky grin on his face. “You ready?” He asks, his hand slipping between your bodies to position himself.

“Mhm,” you hum, feeling Peter slides into you slowly. The sensation of Peter thrusting up into you is completely foreign and completely surreal. Your body bounces ever so slightly up against the ceiling and you feel as though you could fall at any moment.

Yet, your body stays put, allowing for Peter’s hips to snap up into yours. His thrusts are sloppy and deep, feeling out your new position. A sigh escapes your lips as Peter leans up to kiss along your neck.

“How does this feel baby?” He whispers softly in your ear.

A shiver runs down your spine, all of your muscles contracting at the hot breath on your ear and neck. “It feels so good Peter,” you moan softly, desperately wishing you could wrap your arms around his neck. Peter gives you a warm smile, kissing your cheek as his pace speeds up. His thrusts becoming more even and deep, fucking you straight up and into the cold ceiling.

“Wanna see a trick?”

“Trick?” You laugh, watching as Peter detaches his hands from the ceiling, leaving him on just his knees. He looks up at you with a smirk, gripping onto your thighs as he continues to fuck you at an inhuman speed. His nails digging into your soft skin as he hangs upside down thrusting into you.

You close your eyes, letting out a string of moans, loving the way he feels deep inside of you. “Fuck Peter, I’m close again.” You felt like you were on fire, your whole body overly sensitive to Peter’s touch and rough thrusts.

“Do it then” Peter grunts, his cock sliding in and out of you even harder. You push your head up into the ceiling, mouth falling open as another wave of intense pleasure hits you, throwing you completely over the edge. A scream escapes your lips followed by Peters name as you come down from your high.

Peter lets out a deep moan, throwing his body back up so his hands were once again sticking to the wall. You could feel his cock twitching inside of you, thrusting deeper and deeper before pulling out quickly. Hot spurts of cum shooting out and falling back down onto Peter’s stomach and chest.

“Fucking gravity,” Peter groans.

You burst out laughing at Peter’s scrunched up face. “I told you that you were my sticky boy.” You tease. Peter grumbles something under his breath and you let out another laugh.

Your eyes widen only seconds later when you notice you suddenly feel heavier than normal. Your body detaches from the ceiling sending both you and Peter tumbling down onto his bed. “Great now I’m sticky too,” you groan.

Peter smirks, “Told you I’d get you sticky.”

+++

TAGLIST

[cozy-writes-things]

Electric Love: Pt. 1

Edgar [Electric Dreams 1984] x Gn!Reader

All of my fics so far have followed the same universe, so I thought it's only logical that I post an introduction to that universe.

The old man peering at you through puffy eyes and age seemed to have an air shrouded in mystery. His thin, white wisps of hair seemed to stagnate in place as he adjusted his button down.

“This old thing has been around for years now,” he gruffed—an unreadable tone—as his hand encased the yellowed plastic, “I don’t remember what happened to it; must have dropped it, or let some animal chip away at it.”

The dingy, vintage computer before your eyes surely had not been dropped, nor torn into by some animal. It sat upon his countertop completely destroyed; as if it had burst and shattered from the inside out, ripping the glass into jagged shards. You swallowed this thought; this was no time to debate the old man. He seemed to be quite senile as it was and pushing any further seemed like a fruitless effort. Instead, you stretched a thin smile his way, pursing your lips in thought.

“You actually think you can get this thing to work again?” he queried, raising a salt and pepper brow at your expression.

“Well, I’m not sure, but… I’d like to try,” what you hadn’t told him, however, was your infatuation with electronics. Ever since completing your bachelor’s in computer science, you have been tinkering away at many different projects in between jobs, building custom PCs, fixing old Game Boys, and many others. This little computer was an addition to your ever growing collection.

It came from a company you had never heard of before, only to learn it had become defunct in the 80s due to some inexplicable software issues in their products. This certainly intrigued you, as prodding into its code could provide some useful insight to real, vintage tech that just doesn’t exist anymore. But, that’s only if you manage to fix the heap of destruction limply hung before you.

The old man stiffened at your words, ever so slightly, before rattling out, “Well, if you do, don’t bring it anywhere near me. I can’t stand all this tech, and gadgets, and whatnot. Pisses me off.”

“Right,” you interjected, knowing people like him tend to go on long, anti-future, anti-technology rants, trying desperately to beat him to the punch, “well, how much do you want for it?”

He stilled, contemplating for a moment, “twenty-five should be fine.”

“Perfect,” you chirped, padding against your pockets and bag searching for some cash. Pulling out your wallet, you waded around the folds, only to find a crumpled up and faded ten dollar bill and a debit card.

“Ah, I’ve only got a ten…”

He rolled his eyes, “of course you do, you got PayPal, then?” Your cheeks flushed a burning red hot from embarrassment, “ah, yes, I do-”

“Great, just pay me that way,” he bent down and scribbled something messily onto a note, “here’s my information. I made sure to set this up for people like you, you know. Nobody carries cash anymore, or so my grandson tells me.”

You force out a nervous chuckle.

“That’s certainly true… these days, ah…” you unlocked your phone and began inputting his information into PayPal before pressing send on the digital payment, “okay, it went through.”

“Perfect. You need help getting this hunk of junk to your car?”

“No, I should be fine, thank you, sir,” you croak as you heave the broken computer into your arms, heading towards his door.

“Well, come back if you want to buy anything else. Nobody goes to yard sales anymore, it seems.”

You can only turn your head and chuckle at his quip, before awkwardly dashing out of his apartment and towards your car. The dampened asphalt from the rain squelched under your toes as you lugged the large piece of tech to the passenger side.

“There,” you whispered, to nobody in particular, as you awkwardly buckled the computer in place, “hopefully you won’t fall that way.”

And just like that, you were off, headed towards home to begin the massive project that was repairing this obsolete device.

“What to do with you?”

You groaned as you thumped the solid mass of plastic and metal against your desk, “you’re incredibly broken.”

First and foremost, it needs a screen replacement. Which is easier said than done. Especially considering the company who manufactured these things hasn’t existed in 40 years. Unfortunately, a close replica will have to do. Maybe you could even upgrade its screen with something with a bit more prowess.

Poking inside of its components seemed to tell a different story. Miraculously, none of the motherboards were damaged with the same ferocity the screen had been. There seemed to be some sort of dried, caked on water damage of some sort, that left a sticky residue, but otherwise, everything seemed to be relatively intact. The yellowed casing could use a wipe down from the thick layer of starchy dust, but it seemed to hold its original shape with surprising ease.

Following a closer inspection, it seemed as though the glass screen, and the components in charge of illuminating it, were the only things in need of replacing. A quick browse on Amazon, some tech forums, and a post on Reddit should be a good start in finding a usable replacement for this sad, broken gadget.

For now, however, you get some isopropyl alcohol and a soft bristled toothbrush to chip away at the water damage on the motherboards in hopes of restoring the electrical connections. You were quite hopeful that you’d get this little guy up and running just as soon as you could find the right parts. It’s only a matter of time.

[quartz420]

Kitties

Choso x reader Synopsis: Choso brings a cat home to readers apartment despite not knowing what a cat is.... ☆Reader has no gender, y/n is used, total fluff, established relationship ☆words: 828 ☆(Note: needed some fluff for him, because my man deserve it🙏🙏)

The smell of tea enters the air as you pour in a cup for yourself, the calm atmosphere being the perfect one for a rainy Saturday evening. You take a sip from the cup while scrolling on your phone, enjoying the moment. That was until there was an unexpected knock on the door; you shift your attention towards it, asking yourself who could knock at these late hours. You strolled your way to the front door of your apartment, opening the door to reveal none other than your half-curse boyfriend. Choso stood there, his ponytails slightly drooping because of the rain but he held something small in his large hands. He gently clutched a soggy kitten, its black fur sticking to the tiny body. It looked fragile but the meow it let out was impressive for something of this size. “Hey Cho, where did you find that?”

You shifted aside so he could enter the apartment, his wet boots leaving traces in front of the house mat. He shuffled his way out of said boots while responding: “This creature was outside; I do not know why I even brought it with me.” You gave him a puzzled expression for his choice of words; did he perhaps not know what a cat was? You guided him to the couch while you to tell him to stay put, you were going to get a towel to dry off the poor kitten. After a few minutes u came back with a towel and some canned tuna, just in case it happened to be hungry.

He still looked confused, looking at the animal like it was a mythical creature. He lifted his hands and brought it closer to him to examine it, you sat next to him and glanced at his actions. “Y/n, what is this thing?” Your suspicions were confirmed, your boyfriend didn’t know what a cat was. That would’ve explained his actions towards the tiny thing. You let a let out a small laugh, taking the cat out of his hands. You gently patted it, trying to dry it off; Choso curiously stared at you. He was still confused about the whole ordeal, but more specifically at what it was. Until you finally answered his question.

“It’s a cat Cho; it’s like a small animal that most people have as pets. They tend to be a bit anti-social sometimes but they are great company if you befriend one.” He carefully listened to your words, still trying to make sense of it all. By that time, the cat was almost fully dry and was eating the tuna in an intense manner; the poor animal probably hadn’t eaten in a few days. “Do you intent to keep it?” he questioned as he still stared at the kitten. His glance was filled with curiosity and a bit of admiration towards it, which made your heart flutter a bit. “I can’t really return it outside, so yeah I’ll keep it.”

“It reminds me of you a bit y/n, it looks adorable.” You turn you head towards him, not expecting this to come out of his mouth. A bashful smile crept its way onto your face, your cheeks feeling a bit warmer than usual. “So what about a name, you should give him one.” You try to shift his focus to the cat instead of your flustered state. Choso looks at it for a few moments until he finally answered: “We should call it earthworm.”

A long silence followed. Your internal thoughts tried to make sense of this odd name, what would possess him to call it that. Until it finally clicked. “Isn’t that the movie Yuji showed you a few days ago?”

“Yes it is and liked the movies a lot.” Well that explains a lot. Knowing your boyfriends stubborn nature, you didn’t even try fighting this weird name. It was a bit heartwarming to know that his brother influenced this odd choice, it showed he cared about him a lot. You two spend the entire evening watching movies while cuddling with the newly named kitten, Earthworm. Next week Choso happened to bring another cat home, this time a totally gray one. The same process happened: You cleaned and fed the cat. This time you named it, calling it Garu. You pointed out the similarities between your boyfriend and the cartoon character, he wasn’t particularly happy with this choice but he let you be.

Your limit was hit when the following week, when Choso held another cat in his hands while standing at your door. The kitten purring while leaning into his palm. You sighed in desperation: “Cho, you can’t keep bringing cats into my apartment. I already have two and you got three at yours, don’t you think this is a little much?” The tall man pouted a bit while gently caressing the kitty. “I felt bad for it…” You chuckled while slowly shaking your head.

“Well I hope Shoko likes cats then.”

[wistfulforstars]

For What It's Worth - Part 1 Rex x Reader

Summary: You've never been very subtle about your support of clone rights, especially after you started secretly dating Rex. But you never thought a few simple pins would bring you this kind of trouble. All alone, on the mean streets of Coruscant, your life is suddenly in danger and you don't know if you'll be able to make it back to him. Warnings: reader is afab, mugging, attack on the street, general violence, degrading language, clone rights propaganda, physical violence but no noncon/sexual assault, mature sexual content in later chapters, minors: get out

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

The button had been a joke.

Clones Do It Better, emblazoned on a bright red & blue button in obnoxious font and accompanied by a little cartoon helmet, was pinned to your work bag. A gift from a very close friend who knew your habit of decorating every surface you owned with stickers, patches, and yes, pins. 

She also happened to know about your very secret relationship with a certain well-known clone high in the GAR ranks. So it was a particularly cheeky inside joke that you’d happily added to your collection. But it was still, in fact, a joke.

The men who’d pulled you into that alleyway clearly didn’t know that.

To be fair, the other buttons you’d proudly worn on your backpack - Clone Rights NOW, Fight for Those Who Fight For Us, Humanity Beyond the Helmet - were not jokes. You believed every word.

To be even fairer, that didn’t give these bastards permission to shove your face - hard - against a cold metal wall, arm so horribly twisted behind your back that you swore you felt a bone start to give way. 

You cried out, tears springing from the corners of your eyes. They laughed, a cruel, rotten sound that landed like a stone in the pit of your stomach. From the jeers you couldn’t make out - you might be concussed, and was that blood you felt dripping off your brow? - and the shuffling of feet behind you, you thought there were three of them. They sounded young, irrationally angry, and quite drunk.

“...fucking meat droid whore!” Your brain finally began filtering through all the noise.

Ah. So that was it. They saw your backpack as you were leaving work for the night. It wasn’t hard to spot, you were practically a walking pro-clone advertisement. And it wasn’t the first time you’d gotten a dirty look or even a nasty comment because of it. But you never thought, not even in one of the rougher districts, you would find yourself in this position. 

There were very persistent anti-clone movements out there. People who saw every soldier in the GAR as less than human. Why should they care about an expensive vanity project for the senate and the jedi, anyway? The clones were being put through a galactic meat grinder regardless, and certain people decided they didn’t give a shit. And it seems, some of them had found you.

Alentia was going to feel awful when she found out.  

You push yourself away from the wall with your other hand and take stock of your situation. You’re outnumbered, you’re dazed, you’re trapped, and you’re not sure if the blood from your forehead has reached your lip or if your nose is bleeding too.

“Can’t believe she let a bunch of second-hand cells fuck her-”

“Ruined herself on a lab experiment-”

You were still in your medic’s uniform, not much protection there. One of them had you by your hair and arm. Another cut away at the straps on your backpack. 

Great, there was a knife in play somewhere. 

“Maybe she’s so ugly that nat-borns won’t have her-”

But… They didn’t know that you kept your comm hooked to your belt, instead of at your wrist. It was better when you were at work, less external nonsense near your hands. And they didn’t know about the emergency button that your boyfriend had reprogrammed to go to a very specific direct line, just in case.

They didn’t even see you reach down and hit it. The man who had you pinned was too busy yanking your head back by your hair. You bit your lip to keep from crying out.

His friends were slashing your backpack to bits, stomping on the buttons that fell from the scraps.

“Got nothing to say, bitch?”

No, you really didn’t. You didn’t care to explain yourself to a trio of prejudiced little boys with too much booze and cruelty in their blood. You didn’t give a shit as to why they thought what they were doing was justified or noble or right with the world. Spots were forming in front of your eyes and you wanted so very badly to close them.

I’ll be back in three days, cyare, he’d said, late at night when he could finally get away from his men and make a covert call. 

Right. He’d be back. And you’d be waiting.

It would take under ten minutes for someone to answer your emergency distress call. He’d assured you of that when he’d programmed the number in. Someone was coming. They’d be here any second. You had to stall. 

So you could see Rex again.

[bettyshoweduptotheparty]

Midnights duality (part 2): Meet me at midnight

So, we’ve established that Midnights is the era where Taylor makes it known that there are two versions of her story, and that the prevailing narrative can’t be trusted and she’s letting a second (conflicting) narrative exist alongside it. This brings me back to the sentence that concluded the album announcement and opened the first track: Meet me at midnight.

Sounds so simple, right? But who are we meeting at midnight? It’s not the public Taylor, because we’ve known her for a while. So it must be the private one, the one that wears trainers and a T-shirt and bleeds purple glitter. Let’s meet her.

Where, other than in the mv, do we see this private Taylor? On the big screen during the Eras tour performance of Anti Hero. And what is she doing? Screaming and waving at us before she walks off in a huff. Guess no one was there to meet her…

She is also the one taking notes when performance Taylor is doing the teaching. I find it noteworthy that the public Taylor here is dressed in 1989 outfit and is holding the pointer stick in the same way she used to swing and hold the golf club in the Blank Space performance on the 1989 tour. She is also the one slut-shaming and bullying Taylor about her weight in the bathroom scene, two things we know were very prominent during the 1989 era so this ‘Anti Hero’ villain is her 1989 self, the height of her fame and perfectly crafted public persona. So this private Taylor that we are meeting is taking notes from her 1989 self. Interesting… And even more interesting that we are now getting a vault track on 1989tv called SLUT!. And I have just learned today that we are quite possibly getting a mv for this song… so would this be the place to meet our new Taylor? I think it’s a contender.

I have said in my post about the burning Lover house, that I take from the blue flames that 1989tv will move the narrative of this new Taylor forward quite a bit and as we are nearing the release (5 days to go as I’m writing this) I get that feeling more and more. Yes, I am not blind or deaf, I am very well aware that Taylor is currently doing her very best performance of NFL player’s gf, but I actually think that furthers my duality in public narrative and performance art point from part 1. Because, while I’m sure I don’t need to give you any examples of the excessive articles and media coverage of Taylor’s outings with either MH or TK, I just want to remind you of what other articles and media coverage has emerged in recent months, and this is not a story that would have made the NY Times or Cosmopolitan even a year ago.

Yep, Gaylor has entered the mainstream media. Not something that was on my 2023 bingo card, if I’m honest. Not even during the spring and summer of 2019, during Taylor’s soft launch phase, was her queerness this openly discussed in mainstream media. And not just as a general idea, some of the articles are linking her to very specific women in the past and, as if that wasn’t enough, the women in question have promptly appeared in public, either non-denying a relationship with her (looking at you DA), or showing up at her concert after a supposed years-long feud, adding fuel to the fire. And didn’t Taylor make a spectacle of looking lovingly up at Karlie in the stands at the last LA show, a show that she hyped up enough with 1989 announcement easter eggs that she could be sure everyone was watching. She wants to give this new narrative a platform. Yes, the straight girl pap walks are happening, but so is this. Pick your narrative. Especially the inclusion of Taylor in posts from official LGBTQ charities like Stonewall and Glaad seems significant to me, because they are non-profit organisations that are dedicated exclusively to preserving and telling queer people’s stories and would never risk their reputation or seriousness of their cause by participating in clout chasing or name dropping. And I know that these two things going on simultaneously seem super confusing, but I’m starting to think the confusion is part of the act. This is the tale of the two Taylors and it’s our job to work out which is which. The Stonewall Archive specifically tagged Taylor in their post about an exhibit on media coverage and public perception… they know something we don’t.

The re-emergence of pap walks alone is something I wasn’t expecting. Over the last 7 years we have known Taylor as a private person after her turbulent 1989 era. She was mostly quiet, stayed out of the headlines, no pap walks or public appearances outside of award shows and select performances. After all, reputation Taylor told us that the old Taylor died and the new version didn’t explain anything or show her face in public much. But 2023 Taylor has felt a lot like that old Taylor, right?? The pap walks, the girl squad, the high publicity romances… So, hasn’t Taylor learned her lesson from her 1989 self after all?

I think she has, but she wants the rest of the world to eat their words and see how ridiculous this is. Will this all be part of a Slut! mv? Maybe. Or it could be a way to distract the fanbase from something else that’s going on. One very notable difference in the pap walks now is how confidently herself she is when she’s photographed with her friends or going to the studio. Back in 2014 she would leave the gym looking like she was walking the runway with not a hair out of place, and now she is walking the streets of NYC looking queer as ever. (I swear she googled ‘How to look like a lesbian’ before picking that second outfit…) And I’ve seen how much it confuses the swifties. And I’m here for it 😋 Question though, if she’s going into the studio looking this gay, is the music coming out of these sessions going to be equally💅 ?

Something is brewing and 1989tv is the next thing on the horizon, so let’s look at that.

Midnight and Sunrise

Having been introduced to our new Taylor at the beginning of Midnights, she’s taken us through the main album, then the 3am bonus tracks, to the til dawn edition. With every new midnights edition we have worked our way through the night from midnight, to 3am, to dawn. So, next would be sunrise, right? And there have actually been a few mentions of sunrise and daylight in both the 1989tv marketing and other media coverage. I’ve spoken about the midnights to daylight theory before, as it’s one that many Gaylors have speculated on, but I think there has been quite a bit of movement on this recently.

Firstly, there is the yellow 1989tv vinyl that is conveniently named the ‘Sunrise Boulevard edition’. Not only does it have the word sunrise in it, it is also a direct reference to the Stonewall National Museum & Archive, which is located on this road in Fort Lauderdale, FL. And with the emergence of all the other variations of the 1989tv vinyl, it is easy to spot that they all have a sunlit beach theme (a big change from the OG 1989 city theme!) and with the recent leak of a purple version on the website of a record shop, we now have a full rainbow of 1989tv vinyls. Sunrise and rainbows… I think I have an idea where this may be going. But hang on, there is more.

Remember when I said that the Stonewall National Archive knows something we don’t? A few days ago, they posted this on their Instagram with lyrics from Taylor’s happiness, highlighting and italicising the word sunrise and pointing everybody’s nose in the caption to their address at 1300 E Sunrise Boulevard:

This feels VERY intentional. And I’ve never really looked at the happiness lyrics in that way, having taken the song to be about Scott B and her old label, but when Stonewall is using these exact lines in that context, with a strong suggestion that they have insider knowledge, it seems worth looking at them again.

In the caption, SNMAL say that they ‘celebrate the glorious sunrise of LGBTQ+ history’ with the pride flag and sunshine emoji. So, could it be that the Sunrise Blvd vinyl and accompanying rainbow variations of 1989tv are going to bring some kind of moment in history for LGBTQ people? It certainly sounds like this is about more than just Taylor. Perhaps furthering the theory that there may be a double album on the horizon with the second one being all collaborations. Stonewall also liked a comment on this post that said that something is in the air 🌈

They also included the line about flickers of light from the dress I wore at midnight. Flickers of light, as in glimpses of her queerness? The ones we are seeing now in all those articles are social posts? The mention of a dress immediately throws my mind back to the rainbow dress that Billy Porter ended up wearing at World Pride 2019, but that was almost certainly meant for Taylor. And out of all the photos of Taylor from the VMAs this year, which one did GLAAD choose to post on their Instagram in September? Yep, the one with Billy Porter. Takes me back to 2019… and something else does too, actually: The Cruel Summer live single release.

Cruel Summer was released as a single this June, 4 years after its initial release. And almost made it to No.1. It was certainly on the radio A LOT. The Lover set is also the opening act of the Eras tour, so this summer has certainly had some 2019 throwbacks. And remember how the Lover era started? With ME! Out now! on Lesbian Visibility Day, followed by the sunshine and rainbows parade that was the mv and (as we later learned from the documentary) 'Cats, unicorns and gay pride... things that make me ME.' And now, in October 2023, Taylor released a live version of Cruel Summer and used the very photo from the 2019 shoot as a cover for the single. And not only was that a 2019 photo shoot, it was the last photo she posted on her instagram in June 2019 before she was meant to wear the dress at NYC Pride. I think she captioned it something like 'calm before the storm'. And now that photo has made a comeback. If I were a betting woman...(and I've learned better than to ever make predictions when it comes to Miss Taylor Swift these days) but if I were I'd say it looks like she's taking another run at this. Meet ME at midnight...and then follow me into the daylight. ☀

And one more thing before I conclude this monstrosity of an essay, I found Taylornation's post for the midnights anniversary last week a bit mysterious:

It says 'Tonight we celebrate an album written by the one that could make us stay. After all the sleepless nights and friendship bracelets we've shared, we hope you know you're never really on your own, kid.' Sounds a bit like a pep talk (and a plea at the same time) to me. Why do the fans need reminding of the good times and be asked to stay? Where would they go and why?? And the first picture in the carousel is our girl 'home Taylor' from the Anti Hero mv, looking contemplative, maybe waiting for someone to come and finally let her out of that house. And the photo immediately after it is Taylor as we know her, smiling for photos with her fans at the movie premier. The two Taylors again...but one is in black and white and the other is in screaming colour 😉iykyk.

[average-transdalorian]

Several post-canon dungeon meshi headcanons (spoilers below the cut)

The first effect noticed from the Demon’s death was that background mana levels rose to (on average) that of somewhere between floors 3 and 6 of the dungeon. Patterns in the fluctuation of background mana are eventually discovered, as are several low-mana and high-mana areas

Many magic researchers moved to the Golden Kingdom, hoping that being at the epicenter would make their research into the changes go faster than their colleagues abroad. Due to this, many magic colleges were established in the Golden Country, and it became known as one of the best places to send magic users to or hire magic users from outside of the Elves’ Western lands

Due to the higher mana concentration, monsters began to spawn at higher rates on the surface. Travel between villages/cities became more dangerous, and more guards and defensive technologies were required at population centers

Many dungeoneers turned to guarding cities/villages and traveling caravans (adopted as one of the main modes of travel due to safety in numbers) to make money using their skills from dungeoneering

Others made companies that would go on monster hunting expeditions and bring back monster corpses as a way of finding more and more varied resources

The Golden Kingdom had some of the best monster hunting legislation in place, as its (re)founders understood that even monsters shouldn’t be overhunted or allowed to overgraze

Toshiro ended up being assigned as his dad’s (or his dad’s lord’s? Idk how powerful his dad was exactly) ambassador to the Golden Kingdom

Falin, at some point, proposes a fund to allow those who can’t pay to do so themselves to travel the world much the way she did. It is initially deemed too costly for the young kingdom’s treasury, but is kept in mind for a few decades until it could be put into place

Someone realizes eventually that Karka/Kahka Broud should’ve had stories of an ancient kingdom that up and sank into the sea one day. The revealed censorship causes a mild political scandal

Leed does not marry Laios, but Zon is given a title and some land. Conflict between the Orcs and their neighbors are the most common political issue that Laios faces; while anti-Orc prejudice is lower in the Golden Kingdom (and actively lowering) than other countries, it is still prevalent, and requires requires the crown to step in on occasion

A memorial to Senshi’s old companions is erected at the old entrance to the dungeon, commemorating how without them, he couldn’t have been able to help Laios and his party defeat the demon. Senshi is added to the memorial after his death

A memorial to Thistle is erected in the palace’s courtyard, detailing his motivations and spiral as dungeon lord. Further memorials are erected with it to Laios, Mithrun, and Marcille after their respective deaths, each detailing their experiences with the Demon and as dungeon lord

The Half-Foot laborer’s guild helps ensure that every Half-Foot is able to get a good job. Inspired by this, several other guilds were established

Although he never gets a memorial (by his own request), several Union terms end up being derived from Chilchuck’s name

Izutsumi invents a few different sports between her own travels. She never has an official job, but certainly gets by well enough

The Golden Kingdom legalizes supervised research into several types of ancient magic. Making beastkin is legalized, although with HEAVY restrictions due to moral concerns

The Golden Kingdom sees a steady influx of immigrants during Laios’ lifespan as more and more people seek safety from monsters within the curse’s radius, which grows exponentially as he ages until it reaches the borders of the Golden Kingdom

Falin does age somewhat slower than Laios; she takes over the throne after his death until a suitable successor is found

While her rule does not last long, she is regarded as a very significant ruler, as her rule is when the Golden Kingdom first needs to really use their anti-monster defenses

The practice of making golems to aid in manual labor is legalized in the Golden Kingdom

The Golden Kingdom is one of the first places to start buying monster products, due to Laios’ and Senshi’s proclivities

[sinofthesloth]

𝔹𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕊𝕞𝕠𝕜𝕖

“This is was just a game to me, and you were just the gasoline.” 

Cw: Angst. (I’m bad at gauging how heavy it is so just read with that in mind.) 

Synopsis: You thought they liked you back. How stupid can you truly be?

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ 𝙁𝙩. 𝘼𝙯𝙪𝙡, 𝙍𝙤𝙤𝙠, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄𝙙𝙞𝙖 ♥ 

.*•.¸♡ ä̤z̤̈ṳ̈l̤̈ ä̤s̤̈ḧ̤ë̤n̤̈g̤̈r̤̈ö̤ẗ̤ẗ̤ö̤ ♡¸.•*.

“Are you really that blind?”

Azul had a future plan and refused to let anything get in the way of that. You just weren’t something he saw himself needing

You had confessed to him in the privacy of the VIP room. Floyd and Jade were thankfully keeping their nose out of Azul’s business for once. The confession had you picking at your shirt as you stared into his grey eyes. 

The first hint that he didn’t share the feelings should have been the fact he wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying. He’d ask you to repeat yourself multiple times as he searched for something in his desk. 

The next should have been sighs he kept pushing out of his throat. You told yourself they were from his inability to find what he was looking for. 

The third and final nail in the coffin was when he finally looked into your eyes. They held boredom. He was bored while you were confessing your feelings.

Maybe he was just having a bad day?

“Are you really that blind? I am busy and you keep talking. And what makes you think I’d like someone like you? You bring nothing to the table. And you clearly can’t read a room. Why would I want anything to do with you?”

Maybe Ace and Deuce shouldn’t have been the two you asked for romantic advice.

.*•.¸♡ r̤̈ö̤ö̤k̤̈ ḧ̤ṳ̈n̤̈ẗ̤ ♡¸.•*.

“Mon ami means my friend, and you, mon démon bruyant are nothing more.”

Rook found beauty in everything, but that doesn’t mean he loved them.

He called you french names of endearment. You knew that. He called everyone a name of endearment. You just didn’t know what word meant.

French is called the language of love because how intricate and delicate it can sound. Every word sounds like a lullaby if spoken soft enough. 

He’d call you “démon bruyant”, a name you had no way of knowing the meaning of. Well, you do now. Loud fiend. Not friend. Fiend. 

He saw you as nothing more than a loud extra. Someone who didn’t fall into the background only because they were louder than everyone around them.

You had planned to ask Vil if he had any idea of a good way to confess, but Rook beat you to it. 

He stopped you before you made your way to the Pomefiore housewarden. His hand laid on your chest to physically stop you. The same hand traveled up to your chin before you locked eyes. He seemed to be glaring down at you as your face heated.  

“Mon ami means my friend, and you, mon démon bruyant are nothing more. So I suggest you remember your place fiend. Don’t think about wasting Roi de Poison time.” 

He pulled his hand away and fixed your hair before smiling and walking away. 

French is such a heart breaking language.

.*•.¸♡ ï̤d̤̈ï̤ä̤ s̤̈ḧ̤r̤̈ö̤ṳ̈d̤̈ ♡¸.•*.

“Dating them would be like grinding the first levels of a game when trying to get ready for its final boss. Pointless and a waste of time.”

Falling for the schools biggest gaming nerd wasn’t as hard, His brother talked none stop about him and how amazing he was once you looked past his anti-social behaviors. 

You learned about his favorite shows and games. Ortho even talked Idia into meeting you in person. You thought were must have been a connection.

He invited you to his dorm room and the two of you would watch shows and complain about their endings, or you’d watch him game. You once asked if you could try a level, and he helped make an entire account for you to use. 

Both you and Ortho explained that you don’t have any way of playing it outside of coming to his dorm to play and he bought you a complete computer set up as well as a laptop. Just so the two of you could enjoy a game that you just learned about. 

So yeah, you fell, and you fell far. Hitting the floor pretty hard.

You overheard Ortho talking to Idia about how you had asked him if Idia liked you, or if there was a good way of asking Idia out. He blew up due to the information. Ranting about how he would never fall in love with someone like you. How he was only your friend because Ortho was the one to invite you over. He refused to let his little brother lose a friend because of him.

“Ortho, you don’t understand. Dating them would be like grinding the first levels of a game when trying to get ready for its final boss. Pointless and a waste of time.”

You continued to visit to boys. Acting any different would make Ortho worry, and you don’t think you can handle anymore of Idia faux concern.

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 11: Three's A Crowd

Chapter Word Count: 4,676

Anything in Bold Italics are Korean/Another language.

Master List | Prev | Next

Was he scolded for his reckless actions? Yeah. All three of his managers, the PR team, and the VP of Pledis had jumped down his throat on the first day after the incident. 

Seungcheol had been beside him the entire time, rebutting each and every argument they had about their idol image, their safety, and most importantly, you. Jihoon didn’t really need Cheol to come to your defense, he had been doing just fine repeating exactly what he said the previous night in the dorms and on Weverse. Why their team thought arguing with two of the most stubborn people in the group was a good idea, he’d never know. 

Twitter had been flooded with screen recordings of the live he did. Realistically it was a PR nightmare but all he really saw was the positive feedback. Fandoms of multiple groups had made comments on his actions, bringing up other idols like Chen from EXO and Bobby from iKON who had found their soulmates and started families while still working. There was of course the hateful comments but many came to the defense to combat the antis. 

It was the era of humanization in his eyes. Idols were not robots, nor were they property for the fans. They had lives outside of their profession, friends that were both celebrity and non-celebrity, and soulmates either with them or waiting for them. 

“ All of you, stop please. I’m getting a headache from the back and forth that isn’t getting us anywhere.” The VP sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “ It happened, fine, we can’t take it back, but for your sake and Y/N’s, don’t ever do something like this again.”

“ We can’t just have him going around and-” One of the Hybe PR representatives tried to argue but the VP held up a hand. 

“ And we very well can’t have him publicly apologize because the fans that do support him would be in an uproar. They would know he doesn’t mean it.” 

Jihoon watched the stare down between the two, very well knowing that this could have gone a lot worse. Beside him, Seungcheol gave a simple pat to his leg and spoke up. 

“ Let’s just focus on the rest of the tour and get through Caratland.” 

“ Jihoonie, why don’t we come visit you and meet them?” His mother hummed through the phone. 

He had been on the ride back from Hybe with Seungcheol, still technically on a small break before they would have a few more practices for the next stop on tour. Seungcheol was scrunching his nose up, suppressing the snicker that threatened to leave him. 

“ Do you think that will be a good idea? Coming all this way, staying in a hotel, then having to leave so soon since we’ll have practice?” He was trying to find every way to not have them come. Maybe saying how busy they would might help- 

“ Oh nonsense, we can come and stay and take them around- Y/N, right?” 

“ We call them Ruby, mom!” Seungcheol leaned close, speaking into the phone the best he could with Jihoon trying to push the older man away. 

He was in hell and Seungcheol wasn’t helping. 

“ Ruby? Like that little song you wrote?” 

Seungcheol took the phone from his hand, starting the small tangent of why Mingyu specifically picked the name. He couldn’t hear exactly what she was saying but it made the other laugh and continue on. The conversation had shifted as they pulled into the parking garage of their building. The leader was talking about the tour so far because apparently Jihoon didn’t tell his own mother about them getting back aside from a text that he found his soulmate, not even a phone call. 

“ Give me that, hyung.” Jihoon snatched his phone back from the other, quickly saying goodbye to his mother before hanging up with her. “ I’m going to see Ruby-ah.” 

“ You should let your parents meet them, she sounded so excited asking about them.” 

Huffing, Jihoon tucked his phone into his pocket, rubbing the back of his neck as they got out of the van. “ I know, I just still don’t want to overwhelm them much. Nothing is changing for me but everything is changing for Ruby-ah and I want to spread things out before that.” 

Walking into the elevator, Seungcheol nodded his head side to side, needing a moment to think and possibly give a better solution to everything. “ Maybe before the Japan leg? We’ll have a few weeks before In The Soop 2 then practice and flying out, it should be more than enough time, yeah?” 

Jihoon contemplated the idea, running through logistics in his head. It wasn’t a bad idea aside from the fact that once they left for the next part of the tour, everyone would be flying around and sleeping in hotels for three weeks before that. Unless things were bought, you’d be sleeping on a foam mat on the floor for a bed even after they returned. Hell, even the idea of needing to have you around for In The Soop? Things were getting even more complex before it got better. 

“I’ll figure it out, hyung.” Standing at your door, he felt the low rumble of exhaustion through the bond. You only got up a bit ago based on the feel, it was nearing noon. 

Hand raised to knock, he heard the shuffling of your feet and the door swung open before he got a chance too. Staring back at him now, he took in your form, messy hair and dark under eyes. You had wrapped yourself in the comforter, letting it drag behind you on the clear-ish floor. 

“What did you do?” You asked, lifting your phone to him. Twitter was open on the screen. 

Quickly he averted his eyes, dropping his arm and fiddling with the strap to his apple watch. 

“ I asked, what did you do?” You asked now in Korean, your tone firm. 

He sighed, still not meeting your eye. “ I heard you both times…” 

“Are you going to answer me then?” 

“...Do I have to?” 

He let himself be pulled into your apartment, the door nearly slamming shut behind him. He watched as you shuffle-marched into the bare living room and turned back to him. You looked a little mad but he couldn’t tell if you were actually mad since you didn’t feel mad. 

Jihoon kicked off his slides and stepped further into your home, keeping a small distance between the two of you. He could feel you watch him with every step. 

“ I’d like to say that I was really mad when I went live. And I feel no regret regarding my actions.” 

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in as you frowned your brow, staring at him now. “ You could have given me a warning? A text? I found out because Jamie and Kazuki texted me over a hundred times while I was asleep!” 

Okay, he could have done that…But he instead cried, went to his room and slept until he was rudely awakened by their manager. 

But you didn’t need to know all of that- 

And you were right either way. 

He took a step closer, raising his arms in defeat. Your shoulders dropped and you sighed, curling the comforter closer around your body. Now he could feel the smallest shreds of anger between you held onto flow away into the distance of the bond. It was replaced with annoyance. 

“ I should have, but I wasn’t thinking straight.” Jihoon got closer now, placing a hand on your blanketed shoulder. “ I was mad and I couldn’t let them think that they would gain some sort of fucked up favor from me.” 

He watched as your face morphed from annoyed to neutral. Your eyes were looking for something on his face and a part of him felt a little self-conscious at being analyzed so close. 

Swiftly a hand came up and a finger raised to point at him. He had leaned back some, surprise written on his expression. You had poked the finger into his chest then pointed towards his face. He stared down your finger to your face, seeing your nose scrunched up the slightest bit. 

“Don’t, and I mean don’t! Do that again. I’m already gonna have a target on my back and I don’t need you fueling the crazy train of fire!” You flawlessly switched between the languages, a huff coming out after. “Now either show me good places to order furniture and groceries or take me out to go there.” 

He insisted that at least two security guards accompany you and he was grateful you didn’t try to fight him on it. Texting the little group chat the members had, Jihoon asked if anyone needed anything since the two of you would be going out shopping, sliding his phone into his pocket to wait for a reply. 

You had gone off to get changed and gather what you needed to head out. Jihoon could feel the small tidbits of excitement that buzzed under his skin but also felt the anxiety you were trying to suppress. He leaned himself against the wall, across crossed, waiting for you to finish whatever you were doing. 

A knock at the door had him perking up and looking at the small screen that showed outside of your door. Taking a breath in, he saw you shuffle out, wanting to stop you from answering it but you smiled brightly and hurried to the door. 

“Hey!” You smiled as Mingyu stood outside of the threshold, his eyes beaming with a smile plastered on his face. “ Did Jihoon-ah invite you?”

Mingyu shook his head, looking over you to him. “ Nah, he put out a text in the groupchat and I thought I’d just come along and help.”  

Jihoon had to resist rolling his eyes. Yeah he loved his members but a small part of him, outside of the security, wanted to be alone with you, a little domestically. Now though, he didn’t want to just kick Mingyu out because you looked so happy, but that didn’t mean he had to be fully happy about the uninvited guest. 

You had looked over to him, the smile once on your face dropping as you looked at him with curiosity. He could tell you felt the tiny sprout of jealousy he let slip but all he did was shake his head to you.

Jihoon waved both of you off some. “ Let’s get down to the garage so we can wait for security.”

Stepping out of the elevator on the garage level, Mingyu gasped and threw his arm around you. 

“ Coups-hyung, Shua-hyung, and Jeonghannie-hyung are also coming, they were in the dorm with Dokyeom when I was up there.” 

Jihoon internally groaned, frowning his brow as he walked behind the two of you. The trio was growing into a sextet and he was going to have to deal with teasing from both Jeonghan and Joshua. Nothing was going the way he wanted. Still, you looked so happy, much different than the tear streaked face you had yesterday, and he didn’t want to ruin the peace you held in your heart. 

The trio was already standing beyond the inside entrance between the garage and the apartment building, either on their phone or standing around. Hearing the door open, they turned, greeting each of you with small hellos and bows of their heads. Mingyu had fist bumped Seungcheol and gave little nods towards the other too. Jihoon hummed his greetings and stood behind where Mingyu pulled you in and had you greet the oldest of his group. 

He could see that you were a bit flustered, probably having to do with your bias standing right in front of you. He suppressed another roll of his eyes, stretching his neck to calm himself. 

It was going to be a long day. 

Mingyu was scheming, you could see the glint in his eye as you were being ushered into the van that pulled up. Jeonghan and Joshua had filed into the back and he pushed you into the back row with them. You tried to fight it a bit but he insisted and you were holding up their travels…so you ended up getting placed between what were known as the evil twins of Seventeen. 

“ Where are we going, Ruby-ah?” Jeonghan asked from your right, buckling himself into the seat. 

You just had to think about them like Jamie and Kazuki, or you told yourself that at least. They did remind you of them… 

“ Well, to not bore you with the details, I asked Jihoon to show me places to buy furniture then I need food because I can actually cook for myself.” 

Joshua snorted a laugh from your right, shaking his head to try and get the smile off his face. 

“ Mm, that’s alright, Jihoon can’t cook either so good luck feeding him for the rest of your life.” 

You heard a scoff from the row ahead of you where Jihoon, Seungcheol, and Mingyu sat. The latter and Seungcheol both snickered at Jeonghan’s comment. 

“ I don’t mind, your soulmate will have to deal with a pretty face and you complaining like an auntie if any video I’ve seen is true.” 

From the corner of your eye, you see Jeonghan’s mouth slightly agape. He sighed out, a sly smile gracing his face. 

“ Whoever my soulmate is will love me no matter what.” He tried to retort but your tongue got the best of you. 

“ Until you open your mouth.” 

The van erupted in laughter and a wave of amusement passed through you. You covered your face, nose scrunching up as you laughed. Peeking over to Jeonghan only had you laughing harder. He had his mouth hanging open, puffing out laughs in disbelief as he stared at you. 

You quickly gave an apology but it didn’t mean much as you continued to laugh, tears blooming in your eyes. 

“ Wahh- I’ve never seen him so shocked!” Seungcheol had turned in his seat, bright eyes looking at both of you. 

For a second, you met his eyes but quickly looked away. Your cheeks flared with heat and you could tell you were blushing, however you hoped your out of breath laughing would make it seem like you weren’t. Using your short sleeve to wipe away the tears, you looked at Jeonghan who was still trying to collect himself. He had closed his mouth at this point, crossing his arms over his chest and huffed. 

“ I’m being beaten at my own game.” He pursed his lips, looking out the window for a moment then back to you. He was smirking now, eyes filled with mischief. “ I think we will get along swimmingly, Ruby-ah.” 

Jihoon had turned in his seat to peer back at you three in the back. Jeonghan and you were staring at each other with wide grins, an unspoken agreement forming between them. 

Turning your head back to the leader duo before you, they too shared a look, but one more distressing than the one between you and Jeonghan.

“ We have just set ourselves up for hell.” Seungcheol whispered to Jihoon who’s eyes widened and a shiver ran down both his and your spine. 

“ I’m blaming Mingyu since he said you guys were coming.” Jihoon whispered back. 

“ Hey! Don’t blame me!” 

And an alliance was made at that moment.

Just as Jihoon agreed, your little group was driven by security to a furniture store, specifically an IKEA which had you snickering as you saw the blue and yellow building. 

“When you finish decorating, you need to invite everyone over and cook for us.” Jeonghan hummed, pulling his mask over his face as he stepped out after you. 

You raised a brow as you pulled your own mask up. “ Shouldn’t the guests bring housewarming gifts like food and a cheap little plant?” Sweet sarcasm laced each word. 

“Unless Mingyu, Seomin, or I are cooking, I don’t think you want to die.” Joshua fixed the bucket hat on his head and readjusted his mask. 

“ I want meatballs.” Mingyu hummed, taking your arm in his and walking off away from your group and towards the entrance. 

“ He is just stealing them away.” Jihoon scoffed, walking between Seungcheol and Jeonghan. 

Looking back over your shoulder, you could see the other four with one security guard while the other tried to keep up with the pace Mingyu had set between you. The jealousy from earlier was heavier in your chest and you felt a little bad to be dragged along as such. Getting to the main level of the store, you tried your best to break off from the taller man but he was unrelenting in showing you something he found cool or even cute. 

Joshua had fallen into a quiet conversation with you about any pieces you thought about getting. You had taken pictures of items you would need to order but with the size of the van the guards had arrived in, you were sure a few smaller boxes could fit if you tried. 

“ You should get a big couch so everyone can come over and sit on it.” Seungcheol commented, sitting on one of the display couches, arms resting over the back, legs spread in a typical man spread. 

You averted your eyes, letting a long breath of air out of your nose, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Nope, you wouldn’t fall for anything- 

“ Who said any of you were invited?” You asked, looking at another display of an L-shaped couch to the left. “ Or are you just inviting yourself over?” 

“Careful, Ruby-ah, he’ll think you’re flirting.” Jeonghan warned playfully, taking a seat next to Seungcheol. 

Envy clawed at your soul. It felt a little suffocating but when you looked at Jihoon, he was in conversation with Joshua about an ottoman he could buy for his studio. No sign of any type of displeasure or jealousy was on his face. It was confusing you. 

“ You okay?” Mingyu asked, stepping into your field of vision. 

You only nodded and continued to look at the display furniture, taking pictures of tags and taking note of items. To keep Mingyu from hanging off of you, you had him carrying a basket of items for you, glad it was stopping him from clinging to you. 

Mingyu, even through videos, was someone who was clearly clingy. It was evident when he was around certain members, especially Jihoon, Minghao, and Seungkwan. He is always the person to remind these members how cute they were or just generally holding onto them. It was easy to see that you were a new friend to him even in the short time of knowing the man. He was kind and loving, a little too much in the physical contact department but you didn’t mind. You could understand the jealousy that Jihoon was feeling, having your soulmate clung to by a giant of a man. The part that had you a little annoyed was that he wasn’t doing much to stop Mingyu. You had to take it upon yourself to find a way to hinder Mingyu’s affection. 

Getting down to the actual warehouse floor, you already were ready to go grocery shopping and go home. Jihoon’s jealousy was eating at your last string of sanity and Mingyu wasn’t helping. With haste, you found the smaller items you wanted and a small tool kit. Jihoon offered to push the cart which you allowed, even adding the ottoman he wanted onto the pile. 

Joshua had been a steady, quiet figure beside you as you waited in line. Behind you Mingyu, Jeonghan, and Seungcheol were talking about an upcoming schedule while Jihoon was silent in front of you, waiting patiently with the cart. On either side of your small group, guards stood, keeping watchful eyes out for anything out of the ordinary or dangerous. They moved with you and you felt safe, or as safe as you could with two guards in a big ass warehouse. 

Paying for your items separate from Jihoon, Mingyu tried to get a few things as a gift, which you shot down instantly. The jealousy bubbled back up again, having settled for a bit prior, and you took a calmly breath in. 

“ Food is on me,” Joshua called out to your group, placing a hand on your shoulder. “ Go find a table, I’ll take them to get food.” 

Before you knew it, Joshua was leading you away, one of the guards following you while the other stayed with the rest to find a suitable table. The line for food was long but you were thankful to be away from almost all of them to settle. 

“You’re allowed to be annoyed.” Joshua spoke, sliding his hands into his pocket. “You’ve looked annoyed since walking into the store.” 

You cringed, dropping your shoulders and sighing. “Have I been that obvious? I’m trying to keep my mood up but it’s just not getting better.” 

You watched as Joshua looked over to your group towards the back of the food area, most of them sitting and playing on their phones. “Is it Mingyu or Jihoon?” 

“Would it be bad if I said both?” You glanced at him, letting the other take in your exasperated expression. “At first, I was fine with Mingyu all over me, he is like a giant puppy that just wants attention. Yesterday was like that and I was okay with it too, Jamie and Kazuki were physically affectionate people, I loved it. But today?” You rubbed a hand over your face, following him as you took a step forward in line. “Jihoon is so jealous and it's radiating through the bond but he isn’t saying a single thing. I’m the one trying to stop Mingyu by filling his arms with shit and staying a few steps back.” 

Joshua’s expression goes from curious to empathetic. “He means well, Jihoon just isn’t good at expressing himself. It’s been years for me and sometimes he is still hard to read most days.” 

“The problem I’m having internally is whether I tell him I know because he knows that I know that he is feeling that way, or just let him come to me. Just because I can feel it I shouldn’t just air all the laundry out and place the blame on him, right? But shouldn’t he talk to me? I’ve been annoyed and he’s barely said a word to me aside from talking with the other guys and I know he can feel it.” You grumbled out your rambled response when annoyance tangled beside the jealousy Jihoon held in him. 

You wanted to rip your hair out and beat him with a shoe. 

“ And now he is annoyed, and I’m back to wanting to go home.” You switched to Korean, 

Joshua laughed, letting you simmer in the feeling before patting your back gently. “Maybe you should talk to him. He won’t come to you unless you tell him it’s a problem.” 

You were happy to be home, glad to have help from each of them with carrying groceries and boxes. Mingyu had happily carried a box of a nightstand while Seungcheol and a guard easily carried a coffee table. Joshua and Jihoon provided plenty of help with the smaller items and food store bags. 

You ushered the oldest and Mingyu out, motioning for Jihoon to stay behind. The smile you had on your face as you bid each a goodnight faltered as the door closed and you paused, hand on the doorknob to collect yourself. Turning to where Jihoon sat on your living room floor, he averted his eyes when you tried to meet them. 

“ Jihoon-ah..” You spoke up firmly, watching as his shoulders tensed. “ Can we talk about it?” 

“There isn’t anything to really talk about.” He replied, rolling his head and stretching his neck. 

You took a deep breath, stepping into the living room. Standing before him, you placed your hands on your hips. You couldn’t get mad at him. 

“ You can’t hide it from me and it ticked me off all day.” You sighed out, “ And you just let your jealousy wash into it without saying a single word. If you don’t like something, you can use your words.” 

Jihoon looked at you, frowning, biting his lower lip to hold in whatever was actually on his mind. Annoyance that rivaled your own was flooding the bond with envy. “ Then what? When I’m not around will you have him hang off of you? It isn’t like you stopped it at first and you probably didn’t yesterday.” 

Your mouth hung open and you looked off to the side, shaking your head. “ You are going to blame me? I started to pile his arms with stuff to make him stop.” 

“But you could use your words too!” He was getting angry now, standing up and pacing around the room, avoiding any boxes. “ You're my soulmate! I wanted to go out with you today and when Mingyu showed up I wanted to tell him to fuck off!” 

“And how is that my problem when you don't say anything!” You threw your hands up, groaning in frustration. “ Jihoon-ah, just because I can feel every single emotion you have, does not mean I am going to know what it’s exactly about! It’s emotion sharing, not mind reading!” 

You haven’t felt him this heated before. Yes, he has been angry in the past, but now it was different. He paced around the room, running a hand through his hair and grumbling under his breath. Every part of him was tense and your hands balled into fists. You didn’t know what to say next, his anger was getting to you. 

“ For once I want something for myself, I want to be selfish and I don’t want everyone hogging you.” He muttered, shaking his head and setting his jaw. “ I want to be the center of your attention- I want to hold you and protect you but he just gets in my way-” 

“You can’t hog me, Jihoon-ah. I’m a person not an object. I can have friends outside of you.” You didn’t mean to sound so harsh. 

Moving your gaze back to him, his shoulders dropped and the anger he once held in his face faded. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, almost painful if you could place a word to it.

“ Ruby-ah,” Heartbreak was written all over his face now. “ I don’t mean it like that. I just- God why is talking so hard-” 

He pushed his hair back, holding the strains back from falling in his face. Jihoon was struggling to form the words and regret perched above any anger and jealousy you once felt. 

“ I’ve waited years, hearing stories of friends and family talking about meeting their soulmate. I’ve had to share everything for years since debut with my members, literally everything.” He moved towards you, letting his hands fall to his side and just simply resting his head on your shoulder. The bond thrummed with warmth. “ I don’t want to share. I want to be the one you hold onto. I want to be the one you let hold you. I want to plan stupid little dates that you’ll make fun of me for because it will be cheesy.” 

Slowly, you felt his arms wrap loosely around you. “ I want to write songs about you and for you. I want to be everything with you and for you.” 

You raised your arms, one sliding across his back and the other coming up to run through his hair. 

“We really are two idiots, huh?”

[simcardiac-arrested]

BOO!!!!! sillyguy jumpscare

“looks like a raver ancient built him” - my friend

“i am SUCH a fan of how you make all of your fanocs annoying himbos with unnecessary swag” - my other friend

“he’s fresh sans” - like, two people

so — he’s finally here!!! the Basketball!!!! be warned INSANE and MINDBLOWING loredrop below‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ as well as some general trivia about NWB + some more silly doodles

The Ancients, dissatisfied with the very prominent lack of results the Iterator project was bringing, began having doubts. Perhaps they had gone about this the wrong way? After all, the jellyfish that doesn’t try is the one that doesn’t get caught in the net. It seemed they had made their design of the Iterators inherently flawed — they tried too hard to solve the Problem, over and over and over again.

It was time for something new. An alternative.

And so, the idea for the Anti-Iterator project was brought into the world — a whole generation of Iterators that didn’t try. Some called it redundant, some pointless. But it convinced plenty, certainly enough to make that idea a reality, and the plan came into fruition.

No Way Back was the first created; his name was given to him to signify a turning point, a new era of Iterators. One that would bring with it change and, hopefully, finally, a solution.

so anyway NWB did absolutely nothing except talk excessively about the ancients’ fashion and sometimes ask them for their drip clothes for his collection and also make cringefail music. the project was discontinued immediately

NOW!!! TOP 10 GAMER TRIVIA:

- makes the shittiest sounding music possible, sincerely believes it’s peak art. if you don’t think the same way he’ll say You dont get it. You just dont

- fan of fashion, art & history, but in a normal way (unlike pebbles). really wishes he could have a whole wardrobe of clothes like his creators, but they’re all gone now </3 and even back then when they were all still alive they. did not like giving him stuff (they did not like him)

- one of them did give him the nikeys though

- most of his creators deemed him useless and didn’t particularly care for him. however, some of them (usually the kids) liked talking with NWB, and he enjoyed interacting with them too. he kind of misses the ancients even if they were asses

- is an enigma to his local group: he barely sends messages, and when he does it’s wildly off topic, and literally NEVER about work related stuff. occasionally he’ll drop his “bangers” in the groupchat and ask for opinions. unfortunately most of the iterators ignore him because they find him annoying (and useless as well. very ancientcore of them)

- kind of incomprehensible. he just says things

- doesn’t really have a god complex so he’s generally friendly, open-minded and easy going, but if you’re mean to him he’ll go Wow. Not cool, man. and he’ll probably give you a lecture like a 90s PSA

- calls himself a DJ. doesn’t even have a proper DJ name. probably doesn’t even know what a club is

- fan of nature, enjoyer of life. has no friends and no purpose but doesn’t let it get to him. at least he can make the equivalent of cbat 2 and force every iterator in the world to listen to it

- he’s stupid but he’s also really smart because. supercomputer. however he chooses to not use his brain and instead be silly. he thinks it’s funnier that way

- sometimes sends his music to other iterators besides his local group’s. they also ignore him

- you really can’t tell when he’s being ironic or not, and whether he’s really THAT dumb or if he’s just trolling. one thing for sure — he loves to mess with the stuck-up iterators from his local group if they decide to bother him

- if the ancients had any equivalent of the 80s, he would’ve been a very very big fan of it

- loves animals too. would call slugcat “little dude”

leave your thoughts in the COMMENTS below!!! remember to LIKE and SUBSCRIBE and listen to DJNWB on SPOTIFY (suddenly becomes normal) if you have any questions feel free to ask and i will answer. i love this guy he’s my everything

[ariscats]

Jameson Hawthorne analyze, part 3

The day everyone (including me) thought wouldn’t happen came into life, the day i update my series (that i started months ago) abt analyzing tig characters. Everyone pls give a round of applause to the amazing @x-liv25-jamieswife that remembered me about this and helped me a lot writing this, even writing some of the pharagraphs.

Psychology

“I should not be left to my own devices

They come with prices and vices

I end up in crisis (tale as old as time)

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

'Cause you got tired of my scheming

(For the last time)” -Anti Hero, T.S.

We are introduced to Jameson when he's drunk and careless. We see him jump off a two-story balcony and act like his grandfather's death “doesn't matter”. And that's mainly what we get from him throughout the first book, a boy that doesn’t care for anything, not even for himself. We get a little more explanation for why he acts like this in the second book of the series, The Hawthorne Legacy, where we find out that his actions and carelessness are a coping mechanism for him. “If you let this be a game, it doesn’t have to hurt” (THL, page 113). Jameson taught himself not to care from a very young age. After all, you can’t get hurt if you don’t let yourself care for anything, and, for a boy raised in the shadow of 3 “more extraordinary” brothers according to his grandfather, it was important for him to learn how to ignore his grandfather's words and actions (and other people’s comments too). Because people cared less for him than for his brothers, he began to move through life without looking where he stepped, without giving a second thought about most things, only letting in a select group of people, people who were with him since he was born (his brother, Emily ☠️ ), but even then he couldn't fully open up. 

To avoid his feelings, he not only takes unnecessary risks that put his life in danger, but he also drinks. Drinking his emotions away allows him to focus on things other than himself. He wants to focus on anything other than himself because of his self-hatred which we will come back to later. People drink to take away the pain which is what Jameson desperately wants to do. Another one of his coping mechanisms is to think of everything as a game. By looking at everything as if it’s a game, he can easily ignore his feelings. For example, when Tobias died, and he didn’t want to think about his death and the impact he had in his life, he began to think solely about the game Tobias had left (it’s important to note that Jameson has a laser focus, which means that when he’s focused in the game, he has the opportunity to think about nothing else, which also contributes to his copying mechanism. In the books, most of the few times where Jameson is actually happy, it’s because he’s focused on a game or riddle, because it’s one of the few times he doesn't think about all the other things happening in his life.) Doing this distracts him from his problems (grief, self-hatred, insecurities). Jameson’s main priority has always been to think of anything but his emotions, and he does everything in his power in order to do so.

When his mother got pregnant, she wasn’t thinking about having a baby. For Skye Hawthorne, being pregnant meant her fathers attention and something to love her the way she wasn’t as a child. She got pregnant with a professional gambler that never cared to show up or be present at all in his life, and, when the pregnancy and the baby stage were over, so were her fathers attention, and, then, she moved on. She left him as she had left his two older brothers. She only appeared from time to time, never staying for long. Because of that, Jameson started to believe that people would naturally leave him, and that he wasn’t worth people’s attention. He thought that him being himself and being vulnerable around people would lead to them leaving him.

This brings us to his self-hatred. With his mother constantly showing up and then leaving throughout his childhood and his grandfather telling him he’s ordinary compared to his brothers, he started to hate himself. If his own family couldn’t love him and accept him, then who could? His self-hatred and his abandonment issues are what keeps him from opening up to others. Because he hates himself, he thinks that others will too if they truly get to know him which is what keeps him from being vulnerable with others. If he keeps himself from opening up to others and letting them in, they won’t learn to hate him like he hates himself and leave him. Being vulnerable also means acknowledging his own feelings which is clearly something he tries to avoid at all costs.

[stray-kaz]

A Murder of Crows : a Kaz Brekker x f!reader FF mini : Part One

Summary: Modern au in which Kaz Brekker and his Crows are in the rescue business. They run an underground anti-trafficking mob. The only thing Kaz hates more than liars are powerful people who take advantage of others and the Diamondbacks are the worst of the lot.

A/N: I sincerely hope I have the impetus to keep this going. Thank you to everybody who showed interest.

Warnings: Evidence of abuse, fear of men. (Kaz thinks you are only falling for him because he saved you. Kaz is a very smart idiot).

He was covered in blood the first time you saw him, a grim reaper, dark clothed and limping. But he was far from lame.

"Demjin" you gasped.

He grinned then, a white slash in a bloody mask.

"If you like."

He extended a gloved hand towards you and you took it gingerly, rising from the dirty floor in a cloud of chiffon and expensive perfume. He glanced at your clothes with distaste, a wrathful sneer curling at his mouth. You glanced down, ashamed, and tried to cover the tattooed snake that writhed down your forearm, white diamonds patterning its back. But he shook his head, gripped your chin between gloved finger and thumb and lifted your gaze to his bitter one.

“This is not your fault” he said stonily. “Life bit you. Now you get to bite back.”

He let you go and limped through the exit, expecting you to follow and not looking back to check.

Light blinded you the second you stepped outside of the dark compound you’d been existing in for months. You kept your eyes fixed hard on the back and shoulders of the man who had let you out. Curious how, after everything you had suffered at the hands of men, you were capable of trusting this one. He was walking arrogance, pure as coal, but you believed he might just hate the men who took you and used you as much as you did.

“Your name?” you asked, reaching for his sleeve.

Your fingers had barely brushed it when he turned to look down at you with eyes like ice, the same moment someone else called to him and his head snapped away, his name ringing in your ears.

“Kaz!”

You looked up to see a tall, lanky man bounding towards you, a gleaming gun strapped to each hip, barely hidden beneath the folds of his coat. Instinct bolted and you ducked behind Kaz, hiding in his shadow. He glanced behind him, irritation melting into something else, something strange and cloying, when he glimpsed your wide eyes and the ring of dark finger bruises painted around your throat. He hadn’t been able to see them in the dark building.

He held up a hand to stop the young man in his tracks; warm brown eyes tried to find you around the wall that was Kaz Brekker, but Kaz shifted his stance on his bad leg every time he moved, so eventually he gave up and stood back, hands spread wide.

“Jesper” Kaz said quietly. “Bring me Nina and Inej.”

“But, can’t I even say -”

“No” Kaz interrupted. “You can’t. Bring me Nina and Inej.”

Jesper sighed and loped off, broad shoulders bunching under the fabric of his coat.

“Thank you” you mumbled.

He didn’t say you’re welcome, nothing like that.

“Jesper is good” Kaz told you instead. “One day you’ll see it. He is everything I’m not.”

That was your first warning.

You were driven to a place they fondly called the Slat, but you were not expecting a well kept, well lit apartment building, three levels high and packed to the roof with small luxurious one and two bedroom apartments. The two young women Kaz had sent Jesper to find for you, Nina and Inej, hustled you inside and into the waiting elevator, leaving Kaz and Jesper to find their own way up.

Inej was Suli, dark eyed and beautiful, still carrying the ghosts of a similar past to your own; you could see it in her eyes and in her sad smile when she looked at you. Nina had the wide hipped, strong look of the working class Kaelish, but turned out to be Ravkan, a top of her class heartrender and gorgeous to boot.

She held your hand in hers as she led you back out of the elevator on the second storey, producing a delicate key from inside her sleeve and unlocking the door to usher you inside, handing you the key as soon as you had stepped across the threshold.

“This is yours” Inej said, gesturing at the room. “One bedroom, one bathroom, and a small kitchen. You now hold the only key.”

You stared at her and Nina, surprised. You turned the key over and over between your fingers.

“The only key?” you asked softly. “Truthfully?”

Inej nodded.

“Truthfully.”

“What about Kaz? He owns this, doesn’t he?”

Inej glanced at Nina and you followed the look, waiting.

“Kaz will leave you alone, but if there’s an emergency, he doesn’t need keys” Nina said diplomatically. “Now, sugar, there are fresh clothes in the wardrobe. I’m sure something will fit, but if not, let Kaz know and he’ll fix it. He might look and sound like a demjin, but you can trust him. He’s wicked for all the right reasons.”

She squeezed your hand and Inej gave you another fleeting smile before they turned and left through the still open door. You closed it slowly behind them, locked it, then turned to face your room. Yours.

You sank down onto the fluffy carpet and closed your eyes, thanking the Saints for the demjin who had saved your life, right as the first tear fell.

Tagging: @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r​

[where-theres-smoak-2]

Ok I am in rant mode again, sorry, this blog just happens to be a place where I dump all my thoughts negative and positive both, unfortunately for all who follow me. But I have seen some bad and incorrect takes from anti darkling/darklinas. So here’s just a few things I want to say.

Firstly LB has never stated that she based the darkling on her ab*sive ex. This is misinformation that was spread by antis. The only thing she has ever said about an ab*sive relationship was that she wrote the first book, Shadow and Bone, at a dark time in her life right after she had got out of a bad relationship. She has said in the past that the darkling was inspired by every bad boy she’s had a crush on in fiction including david bowie’s the goblin king. 

So it seems from these comments like the character was supposed to emulate those types of characters that woman find attractive, the ones you would fall for. 

I’ve also seen the argument that LB clearly wrote the darkling as a villain, well LB might disagree with you there as she herself has said on multiple occasions that she doesn’t write villains: 

LB says that the darkling believes he is doing the right thing and that ‘you can make a case for most of the choices he makes, even the despicable ones.’ So if LB says that she doesn’t write villains and that you can make a case for his actions you can’t really blame darkling fans for doing the same. 

The truth is LB promoted the heck out of both the darkling and darklina (or as it was known back then Darlina and Alarkling) when she was writing the og trilogy, even admitting to ‘fanning the flames’ when talking about people shipping m*lina and darklina and was clearly encouraging the shipping of both ships: 

She also put out teases for the darkling and darklina:

And promoted darklina fan edits even using the ship tags: 

It was only post the release of book three that she changed her tune, likely because of all the backlash she got about the ending of the books. So no LB wasn’t always against fans shipping darklina or liking the darkling. All of this information is easily found with a simple google search, I wasn’t even in the fandom back then being a show watcher first and yet I was still able to learn all of this with minimal difficulty. 

Which brings me to the whole darklina being an allegory for a older man manipulating a younger girl and how the darklina fans ‘missed this’. Well if they did miss it then it was for a very good reason, but the truth is darklina’s didn’t miss it, we just didn’t think it made sense within the narrative, the darklina fandom have talked about it, myself included, in fact I’ve already posted a whole pretty much essay on the topic. But let me explain why some people may have ‘missed it’ and why it doesn’t work in the story or with darklina as the allegory. The first is because LB chose to use an immortal/immortal couple for this allegory. The thing with immortality in fiction, especially as love interests, is it makes age pretty much meaningless. The whole point of immortals is that they are ageless. Immortal ships have always been accepted within fiction and this whole age gap issue has never come up before. Nobody was going omg but the age gap yuck with Bella and Edward when twilight came out, or when Magnus and Alec got together in Shadowhunters or with any of the ships in Vampire Diaries. Yet now anti’s are trying to use the argument that the darkling is 100s of years older than Alina and that’s creepy all of a sudden. Sorry but not in my book, an immortal is always going to be significantly older than anyone else what’s the alternative they spend eternity alone, never knowing love? At least with darklina they are both immortal. Another reason why it doesn’t work is because of how the darkling is described in the book, he is said to not look much older than Alina, so in the books he looks like a teenager. So of course people weren’t going to pick up on the older guy/younger girl allegory because the darkling isn’t presented in the books as an older guy. He’s described the same way every other immortal being in every YA book at that time was. It’s also worth noting that I am not sure if LB ever actually said that darklina were supposed to represent a older guy with a younger girl or whether that was something the fandom came up with. I’m not saying she didn’t just that I myself have never seen a direct quote from her that I recall and I wasn’t able to find one. I think the first time I heard of it was when someone sent me an ask about the topic. I know that she has said it was meant to serve as a warning of attractive and charismatic men being able to manipulate young girls but I don’t know that she herself has ever talked about an age gap or specifically mentioned older men? 

Another thing that I have been seeing alot of are comments like darkling/darklina fans only like him because he is hot. What bothers me about this is firstly even if that were true and the only reason people liked him was because he is hot, so what? There’s nothing wrong with that, its fiction and fiction is used to escape for a bit, its for enjoyment and entertainment, so if that enjoyment and entertainment comes in the form of staring at the hot guy irregardless of whether they are the hero or villain, let them be. Why are you criticising the way someone enjoys fiction? Sometimes a gal just wants to look at the hot guy. Secondly its just a really irrelevant argument because the darkling is not the only hot, charismatic character in the books or show. M*l is also described as being attractive and charismatic with no shortage of friends and girls, Nikolai is another character that fits that description, so by this argument the only reason M*l fans like him is because he is hot, and the only reason Nikolai fans like him is because he is hot. Thirdly its just plainly not true, whilst I am sure there may be some fans who only like him because he is hot, again nothing wrong with that, most fans like him for a variety of different reasons because he is an interesting and complicated character. As someone who spends a fair bit of time in the darkling/darklina tags the most common reason I have seen for fans liking him is because of his dedication to the grisha, his willingness to fight for the grisha something that he has dedicated 100′s of years of his life too. Personally I like Aleksander/the darkling because he has a sympathetic backstory, because he is fighting for the grisha and when seeing that they had no place to go where they could be free from fear he vowed to make them a safe place, a sanctuary, of course I am going to root for that goal too. I like him because he is complicated and complex and despite being an immortal being who has become deeply effected by past traumas there is still something beautifully human about him, particularly in the show. I also like the connection he has with Alina, the whole yin/yang of it and them being each others balance. I love the complexity and angst of them having this deep connection and pull to each other but also having this anger and sense of betrayal, how they have to try and navigate around having different points of view and seeing the world in a different ways, it makes for a very compelling story and their chemistry in the show is electric. The fact that he is hot is merely a bonus, but even if he wasn’t a conventionally attractive person I would still like his character because of those complexities, because of that connection he has with Alina. But one thing this rant has done is make me curious as to what my other fellow darkling/darklina fans like about the darkling? What drew you to the character? Anyway that’s enough ranting for one day, again my apologies, I am going to go and rewatch season 1 of shadow and bone in preparation for season 2′s release tomorrow...sheepishly shuffles off my soapbox, waving awkwardly.   

[brainrotdotorg]

Thinking very hard about how enjoyable the swap AU Is on its own when we switch around Harry and Kim. Like it could just be left at that. Or. We go deeper. We get silly with it. We swap more than just the main two.

Why don’t we switch Soona with Plaisance and Tiago with Neha, so the bookish believer in the supra-natural thinks the crab-woman living in the rafters of a church and making dice as a tribute to the father of silence is actually some kind of ghost. She tasks Annette to help her with rituals and whatnot to contact the spirit. Soona runs a dying business selling radiocomputers and assorted technology, constantly pestered by the construction worker upstairs.

And what if we get even more silly with it? What if we switched Klaasje and Garte? The blonde bombshell working the bar hates if you call her a bartender, she is a woman who manages THREE cafeterias, and she deserves respect, god damn it. She tried to ask out her coworker, a butch redhead who normally mans the bar, but the timing was inappropriate and she scared her away. Now, she has to deal with attempting to play off the failure while managing the cafeteria on her own. The kind of schlubby guy is actually… weirdly charming, in that purple jumpsuit, smoking a cigarette. He’s used his wiles for corporate espionage, and is on the run, he’s got new passports in a buoy just off the coast, and he is very experienced at becoming a new person. No one pays attention to someone who looks like him. His natural appearance is the perfect disguise.

Let’s get more ridiculous. The Hardies and the Speedfreaks. Acele is a young woman studying to be a lawyer, her history with her father’s crimes has made her intimately familiar with the law. Which is perfect, because the group of three anti-authority vigilantes that have taken over the now-defunct union box need someone to watch their asses. A group of downtrodden men in a church seek new life through music (that's their cover story- in reality, they just want to sell speed, but through intimidation tactics, theyve kept people out of their business.)

Switch Pissfaggot and Fuck The World with Steban and Ulixes. PF and FTW run an “exclusive gang” (that they formed because the couldn’t make it as SKULLS) and basically just spout philosophical bullshit back and forth at one another, trying to bring back true punk. The Student Communist and Echo Maker have jackets that have their names on the back of them, and you can find them talking about jacking Kim’s car— you know, for communist reasons. Giving back to the proletariat.

Gaston and Rene swapping with Tommy and Call me Manana. The jolly older man sitting on the railing is part of the Union, he’s seen jams like this come and go, he’s more than used to it. The lorry driver is an ornery old guy, just wants to do his job and do it with dignity and honor— even though that job is just transporting FALN goods. Tommy and Manana are two old friends, guys who grew up together, young during the war. There’s a girl they both like, they’re passing her back and forth. Tommy wonders why Manana doesn’t just settle down with her, she clearly loves him. Manana says he can’t, he’s living the boiadero lifestyle. Or maybe there's something else that's keeping him from tying the knot...

What if we got sad with it. Lillienne and Uuno swap. And with them come their kids. Uuno is a fisherman who lost his wife, and now has to care for his rowdy son and a runaway child all on his own. You don’t learn much about Lillienne except that she’s a passed out drunk, her apartment is a mess, and her twin boys, too young to be in such a situation, are milling around behind the fence, looking at a corpse.

Who is that corpse they're looking at? His field nickname was "Idiot Doom Spiral". Across the water lock, a drunk named Lely ferments with his associates, slurring about how they used to be big shit.

More notable swaps- Goracy Kubek and the FRITTTE teen swap places, Sylvie takes Ruby's spot, I don't know how it would work, but Measurehead and the smoker swapping while the babes and sunday friend swap places as well... that one's just funny. cant do anything with it though lmfao

[softlyapocalytpic]

I feel like I remember a post going around a while ago about the inherent tragedy of Fallout 4 and the anti-climax that is Finding Shaun and- I just can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t.

(Going under a cut because this post got away from me LMAO)

It’s a tragedy. Your son is a cold horrific monster of a man who looks at people as experiments over being people. He’s egotistical to the point of thinking of himself as somehow larger than life- not quite godly, but something more adjacent to that- because of his control over life. *Because of how they groomed him to be. He was never allowed to be a “normal” kid. The Shaun we meet is doomed, hopeless, and it’s… heartbreaking. That’s your son and.

And he’s dead. He dies no matter what faction you choose. There’s no chance for true reconciliation.

(*There’s something to say about the parallels between Shaun and Maxson as characters that I’ve talked about to others in the past but still sticks with me. Not the post for it necessarily, but I wanted to mention it.)

For me personally, the ending of Fallout 4 wasn’t victorious, it was hollow. Now, part of that is definitely influenced by what I was going through at the time, but it has stuck with me how the only lights of hope I felt were… well it was Deacon. He made it less empty. Made it feel like it meant something good.

I didn’t like pushing the button though. I thought about all the shit that could’ve taken from Institute and used for the wasteland for something good. Thought about Shaun. Thought about how I couldn’t truly say goodbye to him. Felt like I was playing out the motions, and that fucking slideshow did nothing to help the hollowness.

It’s not victorious. But then we keep going anyway. There is still work to be done. And there’s companions to keep you company, to make the world a little brighter.

And Jesus Christ I love that fucking game. I love the sandbox and I love the way that when it hits? It fucking hits.

And guess what! Fallout 3? Fallout 76? Also fucking tragedies.

Sure, Broken Steel brings the LW back from the dead, but Lone died even if Lone isn’t “dead”. The slideshow still plays. You wake up and suddenly aren’t dead, but you should be. You should be. You, a nineteen year old kid were tasked with being a martyr. Sarah is pissed off when you ask her to do it. It should be you in the eyes of the narrative. You should be the one bearing the weight of martyrdom. Follow in your Father’s footsteps.

Fallout 76? I… your nuking the Appalachia repeatedly. Everything is gone by 2277. The bright future meant to rejuvenate the Wasteland ends up destroying it. Idfk what else there is to say on that front.

And these are just… the main Bethesda titles. 1, 2, and NV are arguably in the same boat but there’s a bit more in the sense that… well for those ones it’s much more about the “you’ve won, but at what cost?”. In the original Fallout, and let’s say you take the (I think more popular route) of talking to the Master rather than fighting him: you watch someone realize the weight of the atrocities they’ve committed, realize they had no purpose, and then kill himself and everyone there after you personally have gone through actually psychic hell to approach him. Then, you get kicked out of your only home you’ve ever known!

Fallout 2? You home is decimated, your people traumatized, and you must rebuild it from the ground up. You defeated the Enclave, but they took something from you that can’t be replaced or forgotten.

New Vegas… god there’s so much there and there’s another point I want to make to this post- make I can make it feed into this but- the Mojave gets ravaged by war. No matter who wins, atrocities will continue to have been done and to be committed. There’s deadly forces on the horizon who don’t give a SHIT about this petty war and the fucking dumb politics of these major powers. It will hit any faction hard and unmercifully. And there was still a war that consumed an entire land. So companion has a truly “happy” end. They’re all scarred and broken and have to make peace with the path they’ve chosen. People win, but they don’t win, y’know?

And I wish- as much as I love these tragedies- I wish there was more… hope. I wish that the world of Fallout allowed the brightness to shine through a little brighter. To allow the people who try to rebuild into something new to be more successful, to be allowed to take the narrative into their hands, bECAUSE HOLY FUCK DOES THIS DARK ASS WORLD HAVE SO MUCH MORE HOPE THEN ITS EVER GIVEN CREDIT FOR.

Begin Again is a rallying cry for me. The end of Lonesome Road, if you spare Ulysses, is a rebellion against the fucking cycle of violence and hatred. You want to BUILD something. Create rather than just regurgitate the old world into something more twisted than it’s corpse.

Surviving the purifier? Rebelling against the notion that you must die, that you must be a martyr, taking your life into your own hands? Watching a source of clean water be handed out for free and spread across the Wastes? Fucking! Breathing new life into Harold and so he breathes new life into the Earth?

Living even though you’ve lost all your family? Getting a new one in the people who follow you? Helping people rebuild the Commonwealth after it’s been terrorized and destroyed? Leaving this world stronger and safer then when you came into it?

Honestly- this post got away from me. @persephotea got me in my Fallout 4 thoughts (of which I have so many and they’re always trying to burst out of me) and I got to thinking about what I try to write about in my fics. Hope. Hope, hope, hope.

I choose a kinder Fallout world not because I’m trying to soften the edges, but because I want to believe that humanity has such an ability to be kind if it chooses to. That a world ravaged by destruction would CHOOSE kindness and growth. That despite all the darkness and selfishness, people would choose to Begin Again.

It’s all a fucking tragedy, but that’s only if the cycle continues. We can change it. We can end it. Just gotta choose to do it.

If you got this far, thank you for reading my tired thoughts and please please please share yours. I want to hear your thoughts so bad. Okay okay, I’ll post now.