#so it's just a waste of money at this point

[gremlingottoosilly]

Idk if this has been requested but Big Chested!Reader with Mafia!Konig?

The only thing that can disrupt Konig from his weapon-dealing meetings is the sight of your chest nearly falling out of yet another snapped bra. God, and here he thought that giving you hundreds of Euros to pay for the priciest lingerie pieces would be enough. He was mistaken, of course. Fucking hell. Konig adores your body - litters your chest with marks, making sure it's covered in hickeys and bites in case the bruises don't show up as easily on the softness of your skin. Buys you the most perfect bra pieces, with pretty lace and expensive fabrics, the ones that are supposed to hug your breasts and shape them in a comfortable way. But it's Konig versus the whole underwear industry at this point - it seems like even his money can't quite buy you the comfortable bras, not with how plump and big your chest is. Konig volunteers to hold your breasts, of course, but it's still a bit distracting to his partners. You can barely fit in normal shirts, your chest always raising the buttons in that adorably sexy way, your hands always clutching to the bags that you can't put over your shoulder because the strap will always get stuck on your chest...and it doesn't help just how insanely attentive Konig is. Especially with his jokes about hiding spare guns in your breasts, which always makes you wince and jokingly flick him on his forehead like he doesn't have a body count in thousands suffered from the actions of his gang. Konig buys you custom lingerie and kidnaps the best tailors so they can make you a perfect piece suited for your chest. And he is there to tear it off you each time, not caring that he just had wasted a precious hand-made piece - the sight of your breath spilling out in his hands, almost too big for him to fit in his palm, is too much to bear.

[rebelfell]

urgent (cont’d)

eddie munson x fem!reader

continuation of a smut blurb (still) featuring no *actual* smut. cw: allusions to sex acts and talking about ~feeelings~ fluff

18+, MDNI 2.3k

You woke up with yellow in your eyes.

Not yellow like the golden rays of sun streaming through Eddie’s blackout curtains, but the bright neon yellow of a post-it stuck to your forehead.

Your nose wrinkled as you peeled it off your face and rolled over on your elbow, squinting with sleep-laden eyes to read his messy scrawl.

getting breakfast. don’t go anywhere :)

Your lips pressed together, teeth worrying the corner of your bottom lip as your head dropped down on the pillow. A cloud of his scent wafted up into the air, a mix of warm tobacco and the clean, fresh smell of his laundry detergent.

The same smell was all over you now, filling your every pore, like you were wrapped up in it the way you were still wrapped up in his sheets.

You were naked underneath, every part of your bare skin surrounded by their softness. And you realized for the first time since tumbling into his bed, that these were the ones you bought for his birthday last year. Egyptian cotton. Black. Priced high to match their obscene thread count.

You had gotten them after a party at Robin and Steve’s apartment, where he’d confessed to you during a smoke break on their balcony that he never got to pick out his own sheets, just slept on whatever he could dig out of a bargain bin at the goodwill for a nickel. And even now, he still did that because he had no idea what to look for or what it was that made sheets “good” or “bad.”

Unsurprisingly, his were bad. Very bad.

So, yeah, you had spent a little more than you typically did on birthday presents for friends. But it was more than worth it to watch Eddie’s brows raise practically to his hairline and his eyes round as he rubbed a corner of the luxurious material between his thumb and forefinger.

Awestruck. Like he couldn’t believe anything could be so soft. Feel so nice.

He tried to tell you he didn’t need them. He tried to say it was a waste of money and that he’d just ruin them and that you should go get your money back. But you’d insisted if he ever wanted to get a real girlfriend he’d have to graduate from those stained goldenrod ferns and maroon butterflies—yes, butterflies—he slept on every night.

Absently, you wondered who else had seen these sheets since then. How many others had lain here with the ghost of his touch burning all over their bodies? They were still in great shape, but they must have seen a number of washes by now.

You wondered if he changed them every time a new girl came through here. And would he be washing you out of them tonight?

The thought hits with a force you aren’t expecting—a feeling you never imagined you’d feel.

Because why did you care? Wasn’t that the whole point, after all? Not to feel anything? To have your one good night and go about your business?

Now, you had gotten your good night. You had gotten a great night, if you were being honest— so clearly it was time to get the fuck out of here.

Post-it be damned.

The buttery smooth sheets now felt more like they were riddled with fire ants as you threw them off of you and scrambled out of his bed, looking for something, anything, to wear.

Your sweats were nowhere to be found, likely still strewn over his coffee table after he peeled them off you with a kind of painstakingly slow precision. For someone who could think and move and talk with such rapid fire exuberance, Eddie sure could slow it down when it really counted. 

Fragments of the night kept coming back to you in flashes—Eddie’s rough hands on your body, his tongue lapping at your center as he held your thighs pried open; his own hips grinding into the couch in time with the movements of his head; fucking moaning into your folds like you were the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten, until you had to smother your face in one of his throw pillows trying to muffle your own cries of pleasure.

He brought you to the brink twice without even taking his pants off before he rose from between your legs, eagerly licking your spend from his lips to tell you he needed you in his bed. Now.

You nodded back, the desperation in his voice only making you gush with more need for him as you stood up from the couch and nearly collapsed on wobbly legs still shaking from the orgasms he had given you with just his tongue and fingers.

He practically threw you down onto his mattress, or at least he would have had you not thrown yourself in so willingly. So urgently.

The whole night he spent under you, on top of you—even next to you as you lay on your sides. 

He bit your shoulder when he came that time, his arms curled so tight around your body, hugging your back to his chest as hard as he could, the pain of it all blurring with the ecstasy of your own release. It coursed through you like a drug, like a shot of pure adrenaline, icy in your hot blood.

It almost felt like he really wanted you.

You suddenly felt dizzy, your head filling with pressure and stomach lurching like when you went on that awful Gravitron ride at the fair. It almost made you fall over as you stumbled into the living room that looked a bit like a crime scene, littered with beers and clothes.

You yanked on your panties and then your hoodie, zipping it above your cleavage and not bothering with your shirt. And just as you’d picked up your sweats to pull them on, you froze hearing the rattle of keys in the door as it opened.

Eddie appeared and the sight of him effectively quiets all the competing voices in your head.

He stood there in his own haphazardly assembled post-sex ensemble of joggers and a clingy tank. His hair is especially messy, more so than usual, from having your hands grabbing at it all night, and the shirt he’s chosen has an excessively low neck that has your, ahem, artwork from the night before out on full display—clusters of mottled red marks that you know trail further down his chest.

He’s more…jaunty than you’ve ever seen him.

There was always a bit of a pep in his step the morning after a conquest, but there’s something else today adding an extra zeal to his movements. He’s not quite cocky, just overtly…happy?

His eyes found yours and then flicked over your bare legs, your sweatpants still held out for you to step into, looking at him with wide eyes like a wild animal caught in a crosshair. He had to be able to tell you were freaking out, but he doesn’t make any obvious acknowledgement of it.

“Ta-da!”

He opened the box under his arm, presenting the pastries inside with a flourish. You smiled as you peered in, recognizing the blackberry tart that was the signature dessert of your favorite bakery. It sat in the center, surrounded by various other treats wrapped up in paper doilies.

“Just one?” you asked, arching a brow at him.

“Only one left,” he chuckled. “I had to fight an old lady for it. I lost, but since she kicked the shit out of me someone took pity and gave me theirs.”

The skin around his eyes crinkled with his wide smile and your stomach swooped in that awful way you weren’t used to—plummeting with the completely terrifying realization that you really wanted to kiss him.

Your lips actually tingled, already anticipating the rub of his stubble on your chin.

“We can share it,” you told him with a small wink.

Eddie nodded and carried the box back into the bedroom, making no motion for you to follow or trying to coax you to do so in any way—like you were a skittish cat he was trying to trick into eating by making it think it was their idea.

He sat on the end of the bed, cutting the tart down the middle with a plastic knife, and you came to sit next to him, sinking easily back into his plush mattress as he handed you your piece.

It was quiet as you and he took your first bites, neither of you looking at the other. You chewed, deep in contemplation, lost in swirling thoughts. Thinking, if this was a preview of how things were going to be between you two from now on…then you must have made a terrible mistake.

A fun mistake, but a mistake all the same.

“So…” Eddie finally said, sucking juice from his thumb. “Any thoughts? Comments? Concerns?”

“What do you want, like a star rating?” you asked, nervously swallowing your bite of sticky fruit.

“I wouldn’t say no,” he snickered and then his eyes fell to his lap before he added, quietly, “But you’re, um…you’re alright? Right?”

You swallowed harshly again, unable to muster an answer, and nodded tightly as you stared at the tart bleeding purple onto your fingertips.

Eddie’s hand rubbed over his mouth, the scratch of his stubble the only audible sound in the room in the wake of your silence.

“So I didn’t walk in on you trying to make a break for it, then?”

He scanned you up and down with an annoyingly knowing look in his eyes, but no judgment in his voice. No more than usual, anyway.

“No,” you lied, “I was just…I was…”

Eddie’s head tilted, a smile already playing on his lips, and you sighed as you abandoned your (admittedly pointless) attempt to lie.

“Okay, fine. It was.” You plopped your half of the tart back in the box and wiped your palms off on your thighs. “I just…I guess I freaked.”

Eddie set his own half down and pushed the box back so there was nothing between you.

He scooted in closer, his knee coming up and pressing against your thigh as he turned his body towards yours and reached out a hand to rest it gingerly on your leg.

“How come?” he asked, the pad of his thumb now rubbing in slow circles over your knee.

“I don’t know,” you admitted truthfully, “I mean, where do we go from here? Is it worth ruining our friendship over some really great sex?”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie smiled, “But did you say really great sex?”

You swatted at his shoulder, failing to fight back your own grin. But it fell almost as quickly as it had spread as you stared back at him, all of a sudden nervous again.

“Well…wasn’t it?” you asked quietly.

“It was,” he breathed out. “It didn’t just feel good, it felt…right. Didn’t it? Was it just me?”

For the first time that morning, worry flashed in Eddie’s eyes. His other hand came up to your face and his knuckles brushed your cheek, fingertips sliding along the hinge of your jaw and under your ear to cup it. He turned your face to his, searching for the mirror of his own feelings there.

“It did,” you said. “Everything did, it was like…”

It was like everything I’ve been waiting for.

The thought doesn’t gain enough momentum for you to actually voice it, getting lost somewhere between your head and your mouth. And as if to overwrite it, your mind starts to spout off all kinds of different thoughts, all fighting to get out now.

“But I don’t know what you want to do,” you said, working up to a ramble. “If we should just forget it, or if you want to keep hooking up, or if you want to see other people—”

“Wait, are you kidding?” Eddie asked, almost incredulous. And then, when your brow furrowed and you looked at him with nothing but questions in your eyes, his voice and gaze both softened.

“I just mean…you gotta know you’re the only one I want. Right?”

You feel dizzy all over again, but this time it’s a merry-go-round kind of dizzy. A dreamy, floaty kind of spinning instead of the stomach-lurching pull and yank of the Gravitron. You lick your lips as your eyes travel downwards, fingers reaching out to play with the ball chain that hangs around his neck and the guitar pick sitting in the center of his sternum, your thumb stroking the plastic.

“A-am I?”

Eddie’s head shakes, a dumbfounded kind of smile on his lips as he places them next to your ear to whisper in it.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted…”

Your hand jerks up to grab onto his elbow, feeling like you’re about to fall even though you’re sitting down. You chuckle into Eddie’s curls as your faces bump and a warmth bubbles in the center of your chest. Like all the affection you’ve ever felt for him was rushing in at once.

His breath hit your neck as he dropped a kiss on your temple and then l placed a line of them back along the curve of your jaw. You rubbed your hand across the softness of the sheets again, smirking at him as the tip of his nose brushed along the apple of your cheek.

“I told you these were a lady magnet,” you teased him lowly, letting your lips ghost ever so lightly over his own as they spread into a wide grin.

He slipped his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you into a proper kiss. Long and deep and slow. Full of all his need and want, and laced with the rich and bright sweetness of blackberry.

Your lips broke apart reluctantly, all the breath stolen from your lungs as he hummed back,

“Just so long as they’re a you magnet.”

thank you for reading, dears ☺️ pls consider leaving thoughts or comments. I’ll love you forever if you do <3

[buffysummers]

I’m sorry but you will never make me care about Taylor Swift’s jet usage. She’s one of the few celebrities who actually needs to use a jet for her own safety AND so that the airport can remain operating. The last time she tried to fly commercial (which was in 2015) she was swarmed by fans and the airport had to shut down temporarily.

Rather than recycling, volunteering, getting solar panels, buying recycled materials, etc etc y’all just wanna point your finger and blame the blonde singer. I know she’s rich guys but she’s also one of the few celebrities who donates A LOT of her money. She even sent me 3,013 dollars in 2020.

That’s how I know it’s all bullshit and you just wanna be a pathetic hater bc there’s tons of things you could be doing to actually help the environment but instead you bitch online and think vandalizing her jet (wrong jet btw) is some kind of political statement. That’s a few hours of your time you wasted when you could be cleaning up your local park.

[thatbuddie]

If youre still taking prompts, I’d love to see your take on hot surfer/ ice cream stand worker at the beach for Buck/Eddie (and maybe with Chris too) thank you!

this was so fun to write. thanks for sending it, friend!! hope you enjoy *mwaaah*

i want your ice cream

buddie | 1k | (read on ao3.)

🍦🍦🍦

“You should ask my dad on a date.”

Eddie turns his head towards his son with his eyes wide open, “Christopher!”

Chris looks as pleased as punch when he smiles at Eddie before he begins walking towards the bench closest to them. When he’s four steps away, he turns around to say over his shoulder, “Bring me my ice cream after you say yes to Buck, Dad. And you’re welcome.”

The hot Los Angeles sun is beating down on Eddie’s shoulders and head, but he’s not naive enough to think he can pass the blush climbing up his necks, cheeks, and nose on it. 

For a second, Eddie debates just running as fast as his legs will allow him to, getting as far away as he can before he stops. But as much as Christopher is the most meddlesome kid in the history of all children, that is Eddie’s meddlesome kid, and he loves him with his whole heart, so at some point he would have to come back to pick him up again and that just seems like more trouble than it’s worth. 

Also, he has already paid for both his and Christopher’s ice creams, and he’s not big on wasting money. With a sigh, then, Eddie turns back towards the ice cream truck.

The sight of Buck holding two ice cream cones in his hands with the biggest smile Eddie has ever seen anyone wear is worth having stayed right here, right now.

“So a date, huh?” Buck asks, a blush of his own coloring his face.

He is so endearing that Eddie feels his fingers tingling with the need to tangle themselves in the mess of Buck’s curls, or bop his nose, or tug at his earlobes. He is so hot that Eddie’s mouth salivates with the desire to bite his neck, or taste his skin, or leave a mark in the place where his t-shirt tan lines are more visible on his biceps despite the fact that Eddie has never seen him wear anything but tank tops in the 3 months they have known each other. 

“I… may or may not have been complaining for weeks to Chris that with him starting school soon again this fall we wouldn’t be able to see you as often,” Eddie says, feeling daringly brave and paralyzingly terrified all at once. “He… may or may not think asking you out would ensure we can see you as often as we like even after summer is over.”

“And what do you think?” Buck looks shy as he asks the question. He’s gazing at Eddie from under his eyelashes, but Eddie can tell he’s not trying to appear flirty or seductive. A shadow of vulnerability looms behind him as he bites his bottom lip.

Eddie holds onto his bravery and pushes his fear aside. 

“I think it’s not exactly recommended by nutritionists to feed ice cream to your kid almost once a day just so you have an excuse to talk to the guy that you like,” Eddie says. “I think that you’ve become the highlight of my day since we moved to LA. I think that I want to know what you look like somewhere other than a beach. Maybe in a restaurant tomorrow night at 9pm. I think I want to know what you think.”

Buck’s smile is back to shining full force at Eddie. The shadow of his insecurities has been vanished somewhere where Eddie hopes it will die a painful death. Now, Buck just seems happy, and light. 

“I think I must have done something incredibly right in a past life to be able to bag myself the hot surfer with an adorable kid that I have been pining after for the whole summer,” Buck says with a chuckle. 

“Buck…” Eddie groans as he shakes his head. “I’m a terrible surfer.”

“Oh, I know that, Eds,” Buck says, laughing wholeheartedly this time. “That’s why I said hot surfer and not great surfer. Chris is a million times better than you.

“Well, that’s why I hired us both our own surfing instructors,” Eddie explains as he crosses his arms. “So we both could get better at our own paces.”

“Please,” Buck says with a scoff. “You did it so he wouldn’t keep showing you up like he did that first day back in May. He was a natural and you fell so many times my own body started hurting in sympathy.”

Eddie uncrosses his arms to rest them on the window opening of the ice cream truck as he tilts his head, “That was before we even came to get ice cream after our second class. You— You noticed me then?”

“It’s impossible not to notice you.” Buck shrugs, leaning forward to get closer to Eddie. “I’ve wanted to ask you out all summer long but you’re a client so…”

“Oh, I get it,” Eddie says, the corner of his mouth tilting up, his eyes focusing on Buck’s lips for a second before catching Buck’s gaze again. “You’ve been using me for my money.”

Buck exhales a chuckle through his nose, and Eddie feels the cool air of it on his face. “You’ve caught me. I can pay for our date tomorrow to make up for it.”

“Deal,” Eddie says before he closes the last few inches between them and captures Buck’s lips in a kiss. 

During this summer, Eddie has basically tried all of the ice cream flavors that have been offered in Bobby’s Frosted Delight Ice Cream Truck. Buck is still the sweetest thing he has tasted. 

“Tomorrow at 9?” As he speaks, his lips move against Buck’s. 

“Tomorrow at 9,” Buck confirms, pecking Eddie’s lips three time before pulling away. 

It’s only when he’s walking back to the car next to Chris, their surfboards under both of Eddie's arms, that Christopher says, “Dad, I’m happy you and Buck finally figured it out, but you forgot our ice creams.”

Eddie laughs. “Don’t worry, bud. I think there will be many, many more ice creams in our future.” 

[pinkandpurple360]

As much as I love Verosika and love that her pain was validated- the whole "all of Blitz's exs get together to cope over him hurting them" it's a bit....too cartoony to my liking. Like don't get me wrong- I think the idea in insolation is kinda funny. It has some really visual gags- particularly that one frame of those demons burning an PNG of an irl plushie on a steak lmao but it goes south when it starts to take itself seriously, tbh.

Obviously, Vero is more than heartbroken- she seems to be traumatized by the experience. "Vulnerable for once" this goes more onto headcanon territory but considering how she is a famous pop star, I always assumed she fell for Blitz cause he was real with her- they could just be themselves- granted we would need more context, but based on her rant I can truly feel how hurt she was-

But girly, a yearly party? with his exes? With his random flings? I know the guy is a prick but having casual sex ain't a crime lmao didn't seem to be one when Stolas did it- oh who said that?

I know the party was just an excuse for Blitz to start working on himself at once- but I feel it could have been easier if he just witnessed a wasted Verosika at her breaking point rather than a bunch of nameless randos crying at a yearly party. Cue the flashbacks to Barbie and Fizz and ta-dah! You get his development kick-started! But then the focus would be solely on Verosika instead of the sad Owl Boy and we can't have that, do we?

I am all for solidarity for those who went through similar experiences/were hurt by the same people but guys.... save the emotional group therapy panshot for the Vees's employees or Stolas's staff and let Verosica vent and move on in peace.

But girly, a yearly party? with his exes? With his random flings? I know the guy is a prick but having casual sex ain't a crime lmao didn't seem to be one when Stolas did it- oh who said that?

It made her look really creepy and really obsessed. She should have hit him with her car and demand he pay back all the money. Then move on.

And the narrative point Medrano is apparently saying is that casual sex without feelings makes you a bad person, being promiscuous means you can’t complain when someone sexually abuses you cause it’s your fault. And you have so much of it, you probably secretly like it anyway but have commitment and accountability problems.

Rewrite: Meeting Verosika at a normal Halloween party, and maybe she’s beating a Blitzø piñata with her friends, but there a bunch of other girls beating piñata of their own exes too. You could have kept the exes theme, have it be a party dedicated to that. And Blitzø realising he has a very large amount of them. That’s how you fix the problem. Verosika makes a party annually for anybody who has an ex lover who hurt them, not Blitzø specifically. I’d add the joke in that Blitzø thinks it’s an “anti Blitzø party” and Verosika laughs saying “get over yourself its not just about you” That’s a better story. And to make things better I’d have Verosika show some of her other exes are there but she’s on good terms with them, unlike Blitzø. To really hammer home that not all relationships end on horrendous terms.

[devonaeya]

Perhaps the fact I'm venting to strangers on the internet rather than trusted friends and family speaks for my mental health in of itself. I'm terrified right now. Change is inevitable, I know but the fact that I'm going to begin university is sitting in all corners of my mind, ensnaring my brain and tightening the gold of anxiety. I don't feel ready for uni and each time I bring this up with my parents they just say that if I continue like this I'll just never be ready and waste my life away being lazy. My brain and emotions feel like they are all over the place and scattered. I don't know how I'm supposed to continue because university is the next step of life apparently but what is really the point. I mean what's the point of wasting time studying and earning degrees then getting a job and earning money. Yes I need money to pay for commodities but I'm going to die anyway so what's really the point. Why do people go about living and stuff. I truly can't find reasonings and at this point am barely living in the sense that I'm just kinda floating through life. What's the point of destroying your mental health to study and work to sustain life. Maybe it's because I've been cooled up in home so much that my thoughts are like this.

For the uni, I need to write a personal statement. Around 250 words of why I want to study this course when I actually don't want to. If i was alone in life then I probably would just waste away. But I have parents who technically only want what's best for me in their opinion. I don't want to study computer science. If I had to choose sth to study anyways it would probably be sth more akin to creative writing or sth. Even then it would be reluctantly. How am I supposed to write on my desire to study this course and how those desires and my interests and hobbies have shaped me as the person I am today when I am barely a person. Imo I am just something shaped out of my empathy towards random characters, the feeling that I experienced the things they did and adopting mannerisms similar to them. I don't know what to do. Someone please help me.

[snixx]

this is all confusing. kyu jayein college kya milega college ja ke

nothing:) fun fact about me i did not want to go to college. i had a whole plan to not go and get a chill minimum wage job in kolkata and had budgeted it out and shit. i think less than 10% of indians go to college. my best friend and i actually broke up over it because she was scared for my future and thought i was too codependent on living for my friends and nothing else LOL (dw we're cool now. after a lottt of angst and dyke drama)

so yeah personally i still think college is a waste of money but i cant deny that ive learnt a lot here. like ive only been here a year but its insane. i didnt even realize while it was happening but like i have insane skills i didnt last year. but for me i just went to college because it's hard to do anything if you dont go to college. like ive always wanted a social work kinda job but its hard to do shit when you're a 12th passout. you cant change or affect much around you. it's basically a dead end after a point. so yeah college is a necessary evil if you want to get beyond existing to survive. i just picked a degree that i figured id be semi good at and that can make me independent in four years. let's hope it works and all the best to you too <3

[kaiba-cave]

This is the conversation I imagine having with my cat every morning:

My cat: HEY! I'M HUNGRY!!! I'M HUUUUNGRY! HUNGRY! HUNGRY! HUNGRY!

Me: Okay want some soft food?

My cat: HELL YES!!!!!!

Me: Here you go

My cat: wtf is this gross shit??? I don't want this, ew.

[l3irdl3rain]

I’m sure I’ve told you guys before about my coworker at my part time warehouse job that hates Duncan but I had to work with her again tonight and she was on her bullshit regarding him again.

I would like to clarify, this doesn’t upset me. I mean it does in the sense of “I can’t stand her and she’s a bitch” but also it’s fine. She can think what she wants to think. What matters is that I know Duncan is happy and I love him.

BUT ALL THAT TO SAY! It is so funny to me that she is a grown woman and this is who she has beef with. He’s just a little fella. Girl you are so dumb to be beefing with a cat.

Anyways he’s mad in this video because I stopped him from trying to eat Gertrude’s breakfast and gave him a bath.

[un-pearable]

why are 99% of crochet animal patterns just vague blobs. cmon. i know we can do better as a community. have you seen the shit the national parks service put out? yeah, the NPS. there are grandmas on the frontlines of the most formally accurate critters this side of a 3D printer. we can do better than orb with two triangles sewn on. we can make a more accurate cat. that is NOT what a turtle looks like. step AWAY from the axolotl

[batcavescolony]

What do they do with memorials in comic universes? I've seen so many statues made after a hero has died to memorialize them but what do you do with them when they come back? It's not really needed anymore, they're alive, and when they inevitably die again do they make a new memorial or repurpose the old one?

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

home from work

[manda-kat]

I think, legally, if a studio/game developer/publisher/whatever has the rights to an IP, but they go for five or more years without releasing any projects related to that IP, the rights to the property should return to the person who originally pitched or wrote it and they can repitch it somewhere else or continue it on their own as they see fit, or just keep the rights and know that nobody can butcher the property.

Obviously, companies should keep the rights to the projects they create while the IP is theirs and any characters or concepts that they introduced that was not the original creators idea should belong to their individual versions, but I think if more creators had the option to take their beloved brain child and walk if a studio decides they actually don't want to do anything with the IP, they should be more than capable of doing so.

This should also apply to cancelations without any plans for new projects AND media being removed from streaming and viewing should automatically return to the original creator.

[pinkandpurple360]

Verosikas Backstory

People are mad at me cause they think me wanting more reason for what Blitzø did to Verosika is “removing him of blame” or apologia but it’s not. I’m fully down for a story where he was fully in the wrong. It’s the Stella thing again. No I don’t want redemption, i want an actually layered story. Viv went the opposite extreme from vilifying to woobifying, again. This time for a female character so I guess we have to take what we can get.

In canon, his constant vitriolic hate toward her, thinking the relationship with her was a waste of time, being uncomfortable about the fact they dated, her hating his sister, and then everything he did to her is being explained as just because she said “love” is comically exaggerated. That’s the point it was trying to make but its really really amateurish and hyperbolic.

I would have leaned into his hate for her being rooted in misogyny, in double standards, internalised hatred of succubi, hypocrisy, entitlement, refusing to listen. Instead of him not liking being loved by her?? lol?? That’s so dumb. He is biassed against women. They were both party animals together, and maybe while he was allowed to see other people, he got mad at her just for doing the same. And while she was an alcoholic, he was an addict as well. But thinks he can lecture her about it. Thinks he can be rude about it. So he took off with all the money, thinking he was getting back at her, and that they just hate each other, when in reality he was being a bastard. Maybe she told him to fuck off and he said “fine I will” in the most over the top way. His drinking was so bad that he fell asleep, became terribly lazy in bed, and couldn’t protect her as a bodyguard, so she almost got assaulted until someone else stepped in. Hence the “Tex actually does his job well” line. All of these things are his fault and he is still to blame. Verosika isn’t perfect but she was undoubtedly the victim of him.

Is that not a more complex nuanced story than “she was so perfect to him and said the L word so he ruined her and hates her now and calls her names but actually doesn’t mean it” bleh.

Other huge opportunities that were squandered

- background with Barbie

- Loona, Blitzøs baby girl, idolising Verosika and her music before she knew Blitzø dated her. Helping change his view of her. Maybe Loona finds comfort in Verosikas healing and kindness.

- Bodyguard thing

- Alcoholism

- How Verosika became a star

- Blitzø possibly being half incubus

Verosikas début moment had countless small details and foreshadowing and all of it was squandered so Verosika could be used as an object to validate Stolas gaslighting Blitzø into thinking the casual sex stolas created was is his fault cause he can’t love. Even though simultaneously go being a stolas fangirl, her negative traits are amplified to make stolas look better. And her control in putting stolas on stage despite his “innocent discomfort” removes stolas from all accountability.

[shop5]

me trying to explain that I do not care about padding my resume because none of my ambitions revolve around labor

[blupengu]

Y’all is Hollow Knight hard or do I just suck because oh my god??