#there are many things wrong with me but this one is like the least of my concerns ahjsdjfhh

[peepeepy]

a lot of people who've watched gravity falls think that stanford is unsympathetic or a bad character, and most of the people who dont think that think stanford is at least selfish and flawed, which i can't really refute, but it always made me feel so awful, and i never realized why until now.

if you look at stanford pines as an allegory for a child with a developmental disability like autism or a "gifted kid", then a lot of the pieces start to fall together.

⚠️spoilers for gravity falls, the website, and maybe a bit of the book of bill⚠️

stanford pines was born with an "extra finger", a symbol for a disability. for a while, everyone thought it was a flaw. he was teased and shunned by his peers,

but then, people began to notice his genius. it even says on thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com, when you enter "sixer" or "stanford", that he has a "hyper-ability", something many people will say about "gifted" autistic people.

as soon as people started to point this out, everything felt like it made sense to ford. as a person who grew up with autism, i can relate to feeling alienated from my peers, and wondering "why? why, in a world made for normal people, was i made wrong?"

that kind of thought can lead to a sort of delusion.. that maybe you were destined for something great. maybe you were different because one day you would use it to change the world. i believe this is the way ford felt when he was approached by bill

bill came to ford and told him everything he'd ever wanted to hear.. that this feeling was real. that he was destined for greatness. that he was better, smarter, more special than the ones who had shunned him.

bill told ford that building the portal would make him a hero, make people finally see him as more than an extra finger. the one problem?

bill was a liar.

he used ford's selfish thoughts to trick him into making a gateway that would end the world. he used the years of mockery, the alienation, the loneliness, and he came to ford when he was alone, trapped, with nowhere to go.

he offered ford the opportunity to get back at a world that was built to knock him down at every turn, a world full of people who would never understand him. he offered to make ford a god.

and ford refused

he refused, even in a world that had done nothing but tear him down, to hurt others just to feel better about himself. he only had a few people who had ever cared for him, and yet, he was willing to destroy his life's work to save everyone who had made him miserable.

remember, he fully intended to stay trapped in the portal for all of eternity. that's why he was so frustrated when stanley brought him back. what we saw as a heroic act from stanley, ford saw as stanley refusing the sacrifice he had made to save him. he didn't thank stanley because nobody thanked him. no one thanked him for his hard work or sacrifice or his years of suffering just to protect stanley.

that, of course, led to this scene, which many people saw as stanford's most frustrating moment.

i think this post sums up really well why stanford, in this dire moment, would choose to insult his brother. because stanley was being selfish, too. stanley refused to help save the world, save his brother, all because ford never said "thank you."

they were both selfish. everyone is. they didn't fight because they were bad people, but because they both saw things from their own perspective. they were each hopelessly lonely without each other, but both too prideful to admit it.

in the end, they make up, and both follow their true dream. not money, not fame, just staying together.

stanford pines is not a bad, unsympathetic character. he is a complex, misdirected, "gifted" child. his only flaw was not seeing that he wasn't alone. his family was right there to support him the whole time.

[manikas-whims]

Before this issue gets drowned out like certain bootlickers do everytime..

Here's more on Papergames and Infold’s unreasonable money milking

via twitter fandom

• how it was worse and how certain things were slightly improved only after CN whales complained

• endless mistranslations aka issues with Lumiere's r2 solar pair bonus (Lumiere havers you might know) + the mistranslation and wrong flower still being mentioned on Xavier's Lightseeker Myth (it should be Forget-me-nots, not whatever that other flower is)

THE BUGS IN MASTER OF FATE ZAYNE 🫠 something my friend constantly keeps complaining about but no fix..

• JOURNEY

There used to be a feature where you used to get some extra rewards by completing certain actions per chapter of Main.

I started playing around end of May so i still experienced this. But this feature only lasted till 4 chapters??

And after the version 2.0 update, this feature was completely eradicated. Not even there for NEW players.

Now I can't believe i have to praise Genshin of all but they DO have chapter rewards as well..

Genshin has rewards for even leveling up characters and artifacts (similar to protocores) to a certain level.

• lack of events (genshin runs at least 3-7 events at the same time)

• a lot of content locked behind cards, and even then the amount charged far more compared to the meagre content in said cards

• Reruns (though i believe they might happen from next year onwards)

• Insane Difficulty in leveling up cards

this game just doesn't allow people to have spare materials! forget hoarding, you can barely save on the materials you acquire..

compared to this.. I can't believe i have to praise Genshin and Star Rail again..

Below are 2 characters I pulled recently in Genshin, and I've managed to upgrade both in like a few minutes because Genshin allows me to keep spare materials instead of charging insane amounts to get a card to just level 40

You can see my in-game currency, my upgrade materials compared to the bare amount of bottles we get from Heartbreaker (and we don't even get the golden bottles for free)

• Reduction in the amount of New Event Rewards

someone pointed out how the Diamond rewards are lesser (from 750 to 500) for the upcoming event, compared to the past ones

• Amount of Banners in a Month

Y'all can call me annoying but doing this many number of banners in a month is INSANE. It allows no room for breathing to any LIs fans.

“pick one guy & you won't have to spend” 🤪

I STILL BELIEVE A BANNER SHOULD RUN FOR AT LEAST 25~30 DAYS because rn running 3+ banners in a month seems like nothing but low quality cash grabs with pretty outfits..

Lastly, I do not mean to spoil anyone's mood for the upcoming quad banner but these are all issue that need to be given consideration, instead of brushing them off simply because sOme PeOpLe cAn pAY 🫠

[neechees]

https://www.tumblr.com/baconvonmoose/762184790376136704/thank-you-look-i-know-people-mean-well-i-do-im?source=share

Reading all this and that's the first time ever I've seen someone say this about W*nd***.

Thought to bring this to your attention

I've always said that you'll get differing opinions about the Ice Cannibal because different groups might have differing opinions & protocol on the spirit on who can or can't say it or when, and like I've always specified I prefer it when people dont say it around ME.

But I'm kind of suspicious about this random user coming and saying "well I'm Native American" because of the way they're speaking. They say they're "a subdivision of the Algonquin" like there's no "subdivision" of the Algonquin UNLESS they're claiming to be of the Algonquin TRIBE and trying to talk about their specific community, but they don't specify it, and they seem to be equating Algonquin with Algonquian (a Language FAMILY), which is something a lot of Moniyawak & pretendians do.

Also, there's no "my tribe told the first version of the wend!g0 myth" like they claim they are, because again, multiple tribes believe in this spirit, and it'd be stupid & unfair to try claim authority on it for "the first" because we don't know who was "the first".

This user also claims that "it's a spirit that can possess people so it can look like anyone you know", I've talked with other ndns about this and there's even some debate over whether this "possession" thing is even true, at least for some tribes, because settlers were using this excuse to go and execute multiple Native people under the premise that they were "possessed" by a cannibal spirit (and how often do you think White people back then gave a shit about our spiritualities?). In many tribes, including mine, I know the ice cannibal is a spirit that exists in its own right but that also humans can turn into one.

This person is just acting like a jackass and doesn't seem to hang around other actual Native Americans who believe in our religions, because of the way they're talking, but want to act like an authority on our spiritualites. They don't even want to acknowledge that maybe they heard the "we don't say it" variation because of different beliefs in different tribes. Them calling everything I just mentioned fucking "misinformation" is itself misinformation, and completely fucking unfair of them. And the ice cannibal spirit isn't even the only spirit we do this with. We don't just avoid saying its name out of fear, it's also out of respect and protocol.

I've also never seen this person on ndn tumblr, & they don't seem to have an "ndn" tag. This might be a case of a White person suddenly claiming Native heritage to get in on a conversation that isn't theirs to have. With the way they're acting, talking about Native spirituality, etc, this sounds more like a White person with maybe some Native ancestry who doesn't actually hang around other ndns just trying to be an authority on something they have no fucking clue on & that they got all their information from white websites, because virtually everything they said was wrong.

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART IX

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). fluff. angst. cursing, age gap, mentions of alcohol and depression. feelings of hopelessness, anxiety. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: here it goes. happy reading <3

masterlist!

January 26, 2023

Los Angeles, California

The ceiling isn’t even interesting, but it’s better than everything else right now. You’ve spent too many nights staring at the same spot above you, trying not to think, trying not to feel, but the thoughts always come creeping back. Anxiety’s a funny thing—how it picks and chooses moments to make your life its playground, especially when there’s nothing left to distract you.

You think about your depression diagnosis from a year ago. It feels like a dirty word, one that sticks to the inside of your throat whenever you try to talk about it.

Shame has a way of making you feel unworthy, like there’s a crack inside you that everyone can see. And Pedro…well, he was part of that too. Not because he’d judge you; no, you know he wouldn’t. That’s what makes it worse. He’d understand, and you know it. But it was that very understanding, that softness, that made you feel even less deserving of him. It was easier to push him away, tell yourself that he was better off without you, without your darkness looming overhead.

It was stupid. You knew it was stupid. But knowing didn’t make it any easier. For a long time, you felt like shit. The medication and therapy helped, though. You feel better now, mostly. At least enough to move through the days without the weight of the world pressing down on your chest.

On nights like this, when the city outside your window hums with life, you find yourself longing for him. Wanting him with a kind of ache that doesn’t make sense anymore. Not after a year of silence.

Okay, not complete silence.

There were the text messages, the likes, the little online interactions that served as placeholders for the real thing. But the last time you actually heard his voice was on your birthday. He called, and it was brief. Polite. He sounded tired, maybe distant. You’d called him on his birthday, too, but he didn’t pick up. A few hours later, a text: “Sorry! Really busy over here, even on my birthday. Thanks for the birthday wishes. See you soon.”

Except “See you soon” never came. It was nothing more than etiquette.

Sarah came over a few weeks later. You were sitting on your couch, mindlessly flipping through a book, when she dropped the news. “They broke up,” she’d said, leaning against the counter like it wasn’t a bomb that just exploded in your chest. “Pedro and Julia. Months ago.”

Why didn’t he tell me?

That conversation replayed in your head for days. Maybe he hadn’t told you because you weren’t that person for him anymore. The one he turned to when things went wrong. Life just went on without him in it. The strange became familiar, and here you were, on a Saturday night, staring at nothing.

You push off the sofa, grab your phone from the coffee table, and start scrolling through social media. It’s the only thing that takes the edge off, numbing the ache for a little while. But even that was a trap because almost every post you see is about him.

Pedro was everywhere, and you couldn’t escape him.

The world had caught on to how wonderful he was, and now they all wanted a piece of him. The headlines, the photos, the fan posts—everyone seemed to wonder what it would be like to love him, to touch him. The universe was taunting you with his presence, a constant reminder of what you’d had and what you’d lost. Every time you saw his face, you felt a pang of regret, sharp and unforgiving.

February 4, 2023

New York, NY

The invitation had come a week earlier, but not from him. His sister, Lux, had sent the text. “It would be nice if you came,” she’d written, and your heart had swelled in your chest.

“I’ll try,” you’d replied, though you knew as soon as you sent it that you would go. The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to New York, staring out the window, wondering what you were doing. You hadn’t seen him in person in over a year, and you didn’t even know if he wanted to see you. What if time had passed you by? What if everything between you had faded into the background, nothing more than a memory?

The night of the show arrived, and you were a wreck. A bundle of nerves, second-guessing everything. You sat in the audience, people asking for pictures here and there, and you smiled, happily obliging. But when Pedro took the stage, your heart stopped. He was nervous during the monologue, you could tell, but he quickly settled into the rhythm.

His breathing evened out, and he was so…perfect. He talked about his family, about his mother, and you felt the lump in your throat rise when he got emotional. He was always funny in the sketches, but especially when he almost broke character to laugh. You couldn’t stop watching him.

And you hoped—no, you prayed—that maybe he’d see you through the crowd.

When the show ended, people started to disperse, and there he was, surrounded by his family, by friends, all buzzing with pride and excitement. You hung back, watching as Lux tried to get everyone lined up for a photo. “Who’s gonna take it?” someone asked, and you stepped forward before you could think twice.

“I can do it,” you said, and Lux’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh my god, you came!” She rushed over, wrapping her arms around you, and you hugged her back, feeling a sudden warmth in your chest.

Nico and Pedro’s nephews followed, pulling you into their hugs as well. For a moment, it felt like old times, like maybe things hadn’t changed at all. But then Pedro turned, his gaze catching yours, and time stopped.

You stood there, staring at each other, and the world spun and stilled all at once. His eyes lit up, soft and warm, like they always had. He looked like he wanted to say something, but neither of you moved.

Five seconds. Maybe less. But it felt like forever.

You smiled, and so did he, a quiet acknowledgment passing between you. Lux handed you her phone, and you took the picture, watching them all gather together, laughing and chatting. You could feel Pedro’s eyes on you the whole time.

After the photo, he walked over, his eyes locking onto yours again.

“How…what are you…?”

“Your sister invited me,” you replied quickly.

“Of course she did,” he said, glancing back at Lux with a smile.

“Congratulations, you were incredible,” you said, the words tumbling out faster than you intended. “I’m so happy for you.”

He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world, like you were the moon and the stars. Your heart raced, and you could feel it thumping against your ribs. He smiled, a half-smile, and his voice softened. “Thank you. I think I butchered a couple of lines, but…"

“No, no,” you insisted, shaking your head. “You were perfect. It was perfect.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, his eyes doing that thing they always did when he was holding something back. But then he cleared his throat, looking flustered. “I have to go get changed and say goodbye to a few people, but come to the afterparty, okay? Oscar and Sarah will be there.”

As if you needed a reason other than him.

“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying to sound casual.

He took a step closer, his big brown eyes fixed on you. “Thank you for being here.”

You smiled, trying to keep your composure. “Always.”

And then he turned and disappeared backstage.

•••

Later, at the afterparty, you felt like a ghost, drifting between conversations. You caught up with Oscar and Sarah, the comfort of their hugs bringing unexpected tears to your eyes. It felt good, to be surrounded by people who loved you unconditionally. But you couldn’t help yourself; you kept looking for Pedro. From across the room, your eyes would meet, and the significance of everything unsaid hung between you.

Twenty minutes passed like that. Stolen glances, quiet tension. Until you saw him slip outside to the rooftop, away from the crowd.

Without thinking, you followed him.

He stood there, looking out over the city, his broad back to you, the skyline of New York glowing in the distance. For a moment, you thought about turning around, about going back inside. But then you stepped forward, standing beside him.

“This city,” you started, “is so beautiful from up here. Makes you forget about all the bad things—like the rats and the traffic.”

He laughed—that booming, wheezing kind of laugh you loved so much—and you smiled.

Pedro smiled at you—that same familiar smile that hadn’t changed in all these years. His eyebrows lifted playfully, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all. But as you looked closer, you saw it—he had changed, and yet the essence of him remained.

His hair was longer now, curling just at the ends in a way that made you want to reach out and touch it. His beard, fuller than before, had streaks of gray decorating his jawline and his hair. The lines around his eyes had deepened, like stories waiting to be told, crinkling when he smiled, as if life had both weathered and softened him.

He turned to look at you. “Hi again.”

“Hi."

“You look good,” he said, the compliment slipping from his lips with ease.

You chuckled softly. “Thanks, so do you, Mr. Popular.”

He clicked his tongue, amused. “What can I say?”

The rooftop was hushed, only the chatter and music from the party drifting up from where you stood. The world below a distant hum, leaving just the two of you bathed in the soft glow of green and gold light from the city. The air was cool but not cold, wrapping around you both in a way that felt intimate, protective.

How Deep Is Your Love started playing, and you looked towards the party, a small smile playing on your lips. As if he could read your mind, he chuckled and said, "How fitting. What are the odds?"

For the first time in what felt like forever, you were under Pedro’s gaze—not the chaotic, feverish attention you were used to, with cameras flashing and crowds screaming your name, but something deeper. His attention had always been different. It was quiet, but focused, like a steady hand on your shoulder, grounding you without a word.

For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. The pull between you too strong, a tether stretched thin by years of disconnect but never broken. You felt it—the weight of all that had gone unsaid pressing against your chest. You had to say it. Now, before you lost the courage.

“I was debating whether or not to do this here,” you began, your voice low but steady, “today of all days, but I feel like the right time will never come for us, so I’ll just say it.”

Pedro’s eyes searched yours with anticipation, perhaps fear or hope, watching you with that unwavering focus that made your heart race.

In that moment, you realized, you didn't know where to start.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words catching in your throat. “I disappeared like that, and I know I hurt you. I was... I was dealing with so much, and I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t move. Some days were harder than others, and I felt so ashamed. So lost. So sad.”

The word sad hung between you, fragile yet heavy. You could see it in his face—how your words cut him deeply. His lips parted, and you saw the pain flicker in his eyes, the understanding that only he could offer.

“Baby,” he said, the word tender, rich with affection. He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming yet calming all at once. His hand moved to your hair, fingers brushing it aside before resting gently on the side of your head. The touch was so familiar, so comforting, you closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of it wash over you.

“No,” Pedro said softly, his voice breaking just a little. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not doing more. For not being there when you needed me. I’m a fucking coward.”

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. “I pushed you away because I thought… I thought you were happy with her.” Your voice cracked, but you pushed through the pain. “And before that, I pushed you away because I thought you just didn't want me. I figured it was better to let you be.”

He let out a breath, stepping even closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. “I got with her because I couldn’t escape you,” he confessed, the words raw and full of regret. “You were always there, in my head, in my heart. I thought if I could be with someone else, maybe… maybe I’d forget you, but I couldn’t.”

You felt the tears sting at the back of your eyes. The truth of it, the weight of his words, felt like a key turning in a lock that had long been rusted shut. You wanted to say more, to tell him everything, but before you could, Pedro’s hand slipped to your cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth.

“I was afraid that you'd be the only person I ever actually wanted. And now I'm afraid that my one and only chance at happiness has passed me by.” He whispered, his voice low and intense. “And I…I think about kissing you more than I think about anything else, literally in the world. It’s my go-to thought when my mind has a minute to spare.”

You could barely breathe. The air between you felt charged, electrified by everything he was admitting, by the love you had both buried for so long. “I was so scared,” he continued, his eyes glistening. “So scared of fucking up our friendship, scared of what people might say, and scared of losing you because… I’ve never known what to do with pain, mi amor. All I’ve ever done is hide from it. But I don’t want to do that anymore.”

You reached up, covering his hand with yours.

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if your touch was too much, too overwhelming. Then, slowly, he opened them again, his gaze locking onto yours with such intensity it made your heart ache. “I was such an idiot,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I thought I could live without you, but the truth is, I’ve never been able to. Not for a single day.”

You smiled, your own tears finally spilling over. “Well, that makes two of us.”

"You're my favorite person to talk to," he said, "even when we're fighting."

There was a beat, a single breath in which the world seemed to pause, and then he kissed you. It wasn’t a tentative kiss, shy, or unsure—it was everything. Every moment, every longing look, every stolen glance over the years poured into this one, perfect moment. His lips were soft but demanding, his hands slipping into your hair as he pulled you closer. You knew people could be watching from afar, but you melted into him, because nothing else mattered right now.

When you finally pulled back, foreheads pressed together, both of you gasping for air like you'd been drowning and only just found the surface. His forehead rested against yours, his breath shaky, and in that moment, you saw it all—the vulnerability, the fear, the anger, and beneath it all, the raw, unrelenting love.

Pedro’s voice was thick with emotion as he spoke, “I hate myself for waiting this long.” His hands slid down to your shoulders, gripping them with a desperation that made your heart twist. “I watched you disappear, and I told myself it wasn’t my place. But it was. It always was.”

His eyes bore into yours, deep pools of brown that always saw you, even when you didn’t want to be seen. His hands turned and pushed you slowly to the railing, and you could feel the cold biting into your back even through the thick layers of your jacket.

“I hated myself too,” you admitted, the words spilling out in a rush, messy and imperfect, but true. “I thought about you every day. And I hated myself for it because I couldn’t let go. I tried, God. I tried with everything I had to move on, but it was always you. It was always you, Pedro.”

His lips trembled, and you saw the tears in his eyes—the same tears that were stinging yours. He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“We wasted so much time.”

You nodded, your own heart breaking at the realization. All the years you had spent avoiding each other, convincing yourselves it was for the best, when deep down, you knew the truth.

You had been running—both of you—from something that had always been there.

“I know,” you said softly, reaching up to cup his face, your thumb brushing against the scruff on his jaw. “But we’re here now. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

He nodded, a slow, deliberate movement. “I love you,” he said, the words a soft confession.

You smiled, face wet with tears, your heart finally free of the burden it had carried for so long.

“I know."

a/n: aaaahh finally!!! these idiots got it right it only took like 20 years lol.

an extra final chapter is coming very soon. i had so much fun writing this. i started writing this silly little fic right after a breakup because i was feeling lonely and it was the best way for me to not feel like that sooo i wanted to thank everyone who read, liked, reblogged or commented, it means the world to me that someone else enjoys something that takes so much of my time. love you all so much!!!

[hkruu]

“ME & YOU?” — hkr

\\ soft yan streamer bf , mod!user , silly fic for y'all , obsessive , implied stalking in the past , implied doxxing //

Akira likes streaming with you.

You both started with meeting each other through an rpg game, agreeing to become his mod, becoming friends, and then meeting in real life and falling in love. It was a normal cliche love story about two gamers falling for each other in your point of view, what about Akira's point of view?

It remains a secret.

You always wondered how he knew all of your favorite things right off the bat, how he knew your awkward gestures, your hobbies and all of that. Maybe he was just really attentive to the things you did..

Akira wasn't a stalker.

He's sweet, he always takes care of you, putting your wants over his. Both of you communicate when something goes wrong, you balance everything. It was a perfect and a normal relationship.

At least that's what you thought.

hkruu: what r we playing today !!

Not_venti: wsg chattttttt

xX_AMI_Xx: r u playing with ur s/o?

yurisghs: hi akiraaaa [akira_pat]

fatgirlsummer: when's the continuation of Until Then ?? ^^

"Until Then? Uh, I mean, probably next week." Akira's eyes glanced over the chat box, watching as many viewers greeted him with good afternoons and nights. "My significant other?" He raised his right eyebrow curiously, reading aloud one of the questions.

"Honestly, I'm not sure if they'll be able to make it on time.." Akira leaned back on his gaming chair, stretching a little.

killlove_i: nauur why [akira_sob]

Not_venti: skibidi will make it on time trust.

tsukasaaaa: I hope they're well ><

cutiepie101: COOP PKEASE !!!

"I'm probably just gonna farm today, not unless Lisa invites me again." He smiles towards the camera, loading up HSR. "I'm not pulling for uh, rappa? The new character I mean, I forgot their name."

llyyyn: lol same

yurisghs: is she good? Ion look at leaks

Not_venti: I'm pulling:))

lamanbrug_01: goodluck to those pulling!!

sdkwohryuu: I want Sunday [akira_sob]

"I want Sunday too.. physically.." Akira pouts, eventually breaking into a silly smile. The rest of the stream going fine as usual, farming here, doing the new quest, companion quest, pulling for Fei Xaio, you know the rest.

A good hour and a half passes and suddenly there's a;

Ding!

"Hey chat, guess who's home!" Akira suddenly brightened, focusing on the game even more as he patiently waited for the same sentence he always heard every single day. Of course, he'd never get tired of it, never.

"I'm home!" A muffled voice could be heard in the background.

Not_venti: I TOKD U THEYD MAKE IT OJ TIME

xX_AMI_Xx: I js woke up whay happened

yurisghs: caught my lonely ass smiling

yumiwgeo: can't relate @yurisighs

Not_venti: LMAO

"You'll find someone yurisghs!" He snickered, quickly exiting out of HSR and logging onto Genshin instead, the familiar bright screen never failing to blind him.

nnsigma [MOD]: hi chat

Not_venti: hi skibidi

yurisghs: halooo

lynnuoo: wsg

yumiwgeo: [akira_wave]

tsukasaaaa: [akira_wave]

"sup babe, yes I ate, I drank water, I showered, I cooked lunch and I did the laundry." Akira's smirk was evident, quickly doing his commissions in-game. If you're wondering he mains Neuvilette.

nnsigma [MOD]: ok good [akira_pat]

nnsigma [MOD]: let's play dti instead ong

Not_venti: real

Guihimoo: [akira_nod]

"No."

About the said ‘Akira is probably just really attentive’ towards you.. let's expand a little bit on that.

The first time you met each other at a nearby Cafe, you were surprised. The pictures of Akira on discord didn't do justice to what he looks like in real life, this guy was walking around as if he just came out of a red carpet..

Aside from that, his personality was still the same as online. Teasing, snarky, he's still got that attitude, and of course playful — he was the fun type you'd want to be friends with. But, he really was your type.

You couldn't resist glancing towards his neck from time to time, hell — you couldn't even make eye contact without being mentally flustered. "Is something wrong?" He'd ask, but you'd immediately shake your head and go along with what he's saying.

I mean, Akira didn't know your address, why are you asking why he knew the way back to your home? He used to live here.

"W-woah.. we have more in common than I thought!" You beamed while Akira smiled softly, it looks like his hard work did pay off. All that late night searching, perfecting and practicing — it was worth it in the very end because you were finally here.

Akira could see you, touch you, feel you, make you feel things you've never felt — ah, how he wishes he could go back in time just to see your horrified expression when you almost got doxxed by someone anonymous.

Of course, he was the one to comfort you at the time, the way you opened up to him about everything, finally letting him know of your feelings.. It was worth every little thing he had worked hard for.

It didn't matter if he had a small or huge fan base what mattered was you being right beside him, experiencing hardships and hope. Akira could do anything, he could try his best — he's not perfect, he has many flaws he'll admit that.

But..

It was worth it if it was you.

Akira was glad that the world hasn't ended yet. Not that it would happen any time soon but — he'd want to be next to you even if it was a life or death situation.

Extras:

"I'm rating you 1 star for the effort. You suck." Akira tapped on the tablet aggressively, while you squirmed right next to him, trying to desperately get your phone case back on — fumbling quite badly.

"I'm rating you 1 star too!"

"You're just mad I'm a trend setter."

[thezombieprostitute]

The Arrangement - Chapter 3

Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.

Warnings: Bad parents, Implied physical abuse. Let me know if I missed any!

Chapter 2 -- Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

You spend the car ride in silence. If your brother taught you anything about angry men it's that you don't speak to them without permission. You wince at the memories of his wrath which you saw matched in the eyes of Jake, your husband, throughout the wedding. So you keep yourself quiet and small, dreading your wedding night together.

Jake kept himself silent. He could feel your disappointment with him as your husband. You were likely plotting how to control him, make him miserable. He'd let you have the control if that's what you wanted. He can play the role as you need, or as your families need. But it was the private stuff that had him wanting to break. Would you let him play his video games? Would you constantly make fun of him, like so many others, for being himself? How much of himself will he have to sacrifice for the safety and security of his real family?

He pulls into the underground parking garage for the penthouse and parks. Not wanting to get lectured so soon, Jake is immediately out and going to open your door. He doesn't know that you only didn't open it because you weren't given permission. You step out and keep your eyes down so as not to anger him. As much as he's not looking forward to a life with a woman who drains his soul, it still hurts that you're so disappointed in him you can't even look at him.

The elevator ride is worse than the car ride. At least in the car you had buildings and people you could look at. Now it's just you and your eyes on the floor. You should be grateful he hasn't tried to touch you, but the fact that he puts as much distance between the two of you as he can speaks volumes. Jake tries making himself small in the hopes that you won't yell at him for taking up your space. The fact that you refuse to acknowledge him tells him a lot. When the doors open, Jake rushes into the entryway of the penthouse, the silence and tension was suffocating him. You hide your wince and try to make yourself smaller so you don't make him angrier at you than he clearly is.

Clay is waiting for the two of you in the entryway. He smiles, "good to know my pinto's got better speed and mobility than that fancy model they got you driving." Jake scoffs as he unlocks the door, using a keypad with the code he wants to change but knows he'll never be allowed to. Clay turns to you, "I know we were introduced earlier, but the whole thing was rather rushed. I'm Clay, Jake's boss, for lack of a better term." He holds out his hand and you shake it, you try to smile so as not to appear to be rude, but the day is weighing heavily on you.

Jake holds the door open for the two of you.

It's your first time seeing the place and you're immediately saddened by how much of it looks like your mother's tastes and preferences. It's overly crowded with useless, gaudy, overpriced things. You want to throw it all out. It's supposed to be a space for you and your husband, but it's just another reminder of how much your family still controls you. Jake groans as he looks around. Pulling out his phone, he quickly finds several "Internet of Things" devices that are easy to hack. Of course his parents would put in the fanciest refrigerators and thermostats without caring about the security risks. Jake doesn't need his refrigerator to connect to his phone, dammit!

Jake's groan makes you freeze. Clay asks, "what's wrong now?"

"I gotta do some serious cleanup for the sake of security," he grumbles. "Gotta make sure no one else actually gets to set the temperature of the thermostat, that I don't get text messages from my fridge, that my damn toaster doesn't get hacked!" He looks at you, "if that's okay with you, of course." His tone is bitter because he hates that he has to ask your permission for something so basic.

You nod, "of course." You keep your voice small, afraid of angering him any further. He really must hate you.

Clay looks at you, "how about you make yourself comfortable, little lady? I know it's your honeymoon and all, but Jake and I need to talk and who knows how long he's gonna be fixin' this internet problem y'all got."

You look to Jake but he's still on his phone so you ask, "is...is that okay with you?"

He gives you a confused look, "of course."

You make an internal note that, whatever Clay says goes. He's Jake's boss so you're best bet is to keep him happy to make Jake happy.

When you're out of sight Clay turns to Jake. "You best be gentle with that one, Jake. I think she's been through her own kind of hell."

"She's the spitting image of her mother, hasn't said a single word, can't even look me in the eye," Jake grouses. "She hates me and I'm likely going to spend the rest of my life never being good enough for her."

"I ain't so sure about that," he muses. "I get the impression she's afraid of you."

Chapter 2 -- Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness;

@ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

[otomehonyaku]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Eternal Blood Animate Tokuten CD ☽ Vol. 1 & 2 ・A Certain Day at the Mukami Household

Original title: ある日の無神家 Voiced by Sakurai Takahiro (Ruki), Suzuki Tatsuhisa (Yuma) English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the audio (as always, BIG thank you to @karleksmumskladdkaka!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This CD was very generous with the fan service, to say the least... I can safely say it's one of my new absolute favourites! The cooing, the teasing, the brotherly banter, Ruki's tired dad energy near the end, and both Ruki and Yuma fawning over you? _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): I hope you have as much fun listening and reading along as I had translating it!

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

00:00 [The scene starts with Ruki quietly reading in his room.]

Ruki: What a lovely day it is today. A pleasant breeze is coming in from the window, and time is passing ever so slowly... There couldn’t be a more perfect time to read.

[Ruki turns a page.]

Ruki: I see. There’s much more to this book than I thought. I only bought it on a whim to pass the time, but… it’s actually not bad at all.

[Ruki turns another page and continues reading. The sound of rushed footsteps comes from the hallway.]

Ruki: Oh. Those footsteps… Is that Yuma?

[Ruki snaps his book shut with a sigh.]

Ruki: If he’s heading this way, he probably wants something from me. I’d hoped to spend a quiet day alone, but it seems like I’ll have to let that go…

[Yuma bursts into the room.]

Yuma: Hey! This’s bad, Ruki!

Ruki: Do not run in the hallway. Knock. Wait before I answer until I open the door. How many times do I have to tell you all of this?

Yuma: There’s somethin’ much more important that I need you to take a look at. You got time, right?

Ruki: What happened? You came all this way to disturb my reading, so at least tell me why.

Yuma: You’ll know the reason when you just come to the garden ‘n look at it.

Ruki: At what? 

[The scene shifts to the Mukami mansion's vegetable garden.]

Ruki: Ah… What on Earth is this? Hey, you. You were here together with Yuma, right? Explain the situation.

[You try to explain, but you’re so worked up that you keep stumbling over your words.]

Ruki: I shouldn’t have asked you. I can’t have a conversation with you when you can't even string together a sentence.

Yuma: Well… you know how most of the veggies in the garden are pretty much ripe for the pickin’ right now? She was pickin’ them for me, and then she suddenly called out that she saw somethin’ underneath the dirt. So, I got curious and dug it up, and it was… this.

[Yuma pats the box next to him.]

Ruki: This box? It looks like a coffin. You could lock up a full-sized human in there.

02:04 Yuma: Haha. You ain’t wrong. Like you said, it might be a coffin. Might be a vampire inside that was buried while he was sleepin’ or somethin'.

[You definitely don’t like the idea of that.]

Yuma: What, you scared something’s gonna jump out at you? You’d better fight like hell. Heh.

[You ask him what he would do if something were to jump out at you.]

Yuma: Huh? I’m just gonna stand by ‘n watch, of course. I ain’t comin’ to your rescue for free.

[Yuma comes closer.]

Yuma: If you want me to save ya, you got somethin’ to give me in return, right? That sweet stuff that’s flowin’ in your veins… Make me an offer and I might give it some thought.

Ruki: Yuma. That’s enough.

Yuma: Yeah, yeah, got it.

[Ruki steps closer to the box.]

Ruki: Hmm… The lid of the box seems to have a lock on it, but it’s in really bad condition. It looks like it would open easily.

Yuma: So? Let’s take a look inside.

Ruki: Hold on, Yuma. Don’t do anything reckless. Haven’t you read any literature on these kinds of things?

Yuma: Literature?

Ruki: These kinds of boxes are often traps. I’ve read about them in books. For example, there was one case in which a box washed up on a seashore. A man opened the box and smoke poured out, which gathered into the shape of an old man. It’s likely some kind of curse.

Yuma: Those kinds of curses exist?

Ruki: And then there are also these boxes of various sizes, collectively called tsuzura. You’re pressured to choose a single box, and if you choose the biggest one, there’s a trap inside: a monster jumps out of it. There are innumerable examples.

04:01 Yuma: Really? That’s some scary shit.

[You tell them those are probably made-up stories.]

Ruki: Oh? Do you really think they’re mere myths, Livestock? I’ll let you open the box, then.

[You immediately backpedal and try to run away, but Ruki catches you.]

Ruki: Oh, no. Don’t think you can run away now.

[You tell him you don’t want to do it.]

Ruki: You’re the one who said they’re myths. This is an order from your master. Hurry up and open it. If a monster really were to jump out, you’d have nowhere to run. It could easily tear you to pieces. I wonder what happens when it sinks its teeth into this pale skin of yours…

[Ruki’s hands palm your bare skin. You get flustered and try to move away.]

Ruki: What’s wrong? Did you already imagine it just by me touching you? Ah… So you actually prefer pain over pleasure.

[Ruki pulls you closer.]

Ruki: Don’t lie to me. You’re eagerly awaiting it, aren’t you? Your body seems to be trembling in delight, actually. Show me that expression of yours properly.

[Ruki grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.]

Ruki: Oh. I see the colour has completely drained from your face. Fear is not such a bad look on you. Well, then—do as your master tells you and open that lid.

[You tell him you’re scared and repeat that you really don’t want to.]

Ruki: That’s precisely why I’m making you do it, of course.

[You’re on the verge of tears.]

Ruki: Heh. You look miserable when you’re about to burst into tears. It’s quite enjoyable. However, you seem to be misunderstanding something. I’m not doing this to punish you. It’s your reward for helping Yuma. 

[Ruki pulls you even closer while you struggle.]

06:03 Ruki: To have your will completely ignored, your body pinned down until you have no choice but to obey… you actually get off on such wretched situations, don’t you? I’ll make you humiliate yourself. Now, how about you wag your little tail in delight and do as I say?

[You violently shake your head.]

Ruki: Good grief… You really don’t know when to give up, do you? You still have no intention of obeying?

Yuma: You’ve really gotten more stubborn since you started livin’ with us. Or, well, you were prolly already stubborn from the get-go.

Ruki: Livestock who don’t follow orders don’t do themselves any favours in terms of charm. Ah. Let’s do this on different terms, then. If you open the lid, I’ll make you your favourite for dinner.

[That piques your interest. You immediately say you’ll do it.]

Yuma: That makes you agree straight away?!

Ruki: Ah… I’ve clearly been using the wrong methods to discipline you. It’s like I’ve got one more Kou or Yuma in my household…

Yuma: What do Kou ‘n I gotta do with that? Well, fine by me, though. Besides, this lid’s pretty heavy. You sure you can lift it with those tiny arms?

[You try to lift the lid but fail miserably.]

Yuma: It ain’t movin’ at all. Are you even tryin’? Put some more effort into it or Ruki’s just gonna yell at you.

[The lid still doesn’t budge despite your best efforts.]

Yuma: I thought you said you’d do it yourself. How pathetic.

[You give up.]

Yuma: You’re so hopeless it ain’t even funny. Hey, Ruki. It’ll take all day if we leave this to her.

Ruki: It certainly seems that way. It can’t be helped, I suppose. Lend her a hand.

Yuma: Gotcha. Let’s see… I’ll give you a hand, so at least put some effort into it, alright? If you can’t open that lid, I’ll sink my fangs into you so deep you’re gonna beg for mercy. Makes it a bit more thrilling, right? Really, though. You keep yapping about the lid being heavy, but how heavy’s it really?

[Yuma gives a little push and the lid gives right away.]

08:24 Yuma: Huh? The fuck? It ain’t even that heavy. You really are useless. You shoulda been able to lift it lickety-split, Sow. I’ve given you a head start, so you do the rest. I’ll let go, so don’t drop the lid, alright?

[Yuma lets go and you immediately almost drop the lid.]

Yuma: C’mon, hold it up a little higher, Sow! Are you really puttin’ all your strength into it? You look like an idiot. Makes me wanna laugh. If you don’t put in the effort like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, we’ll start from scratch again. Jeez… I’ll teach you how it’s done.

[Yuma puts a hand on your lower back, which startles you.]

Yuma: Here, right here. Focus your strength in your lower back when you brace yourself. What, you ticklish? 

[You shake your head.]

Yuma: Ah, I see, I see. So you’re just weak? Besides, you can’t really fight back when you got your hands full. Even if I were to do this…

[Yuma puts his hands on you again.]

Yuma: Hehe. That’s a great reaction. Doesn’t matter how tough a position you’re in, you still love it, dontcha? You’re workin’ so hard so hold up that lid, but I wonder what’ll happen if I do it again…

[You unconsciously brace yourself.]

Yuma: You’re shiverin’ like a little rabbit. Ah, come to think of it, there’s a lil’ somethin’ on your clothes…

[Yuma puts his hands on your waist and squeezes. You almost drop the lid.]

Yuma: Haha! Don’t let go so easily. Are your sides really that weak? Besides, I think you know already, but if you let go, you lose. Hm… You don’t wanna get punished, do ya? Better fix that attitude ‘n please your owner. Brace yourself ‘n take it. C’mon, c’mon!

[Yuma tickles and gropes you until you finally break and drop the lid.]

10:24 Yuma: Ah, for shame. Now the lid’s closed again. Time’s come for this useless little piggy’s punishment.

[Yuma grabs you from behind and pulls you against him. Your arms are trapped behind you.]

Yuma: Well, you can’t run away when I’ve got you from behind like this. Your chest’s completely unprotected. Should we punish you right here, right now? C’mon, Ruki. Join in on the fun.

Ruki: Good grief. What are you playing around for? However… You didn’t follow your master’s orders. This indeed calls for punishment.

[Ruki walks over to you. You turn your head to the side in embarrassment.]

Ruki: Are you trying to seduce me, exposing your neck to me like that? You really lack discipline.

[Ruki trails his fingers along your neck, causing you to shiver.]

Ruki: Heh. You’re already losing control of your body just from a little touch of my fingers. Did you fail on purpose because you actually want to be punished? Normally, I would’ve sunk my fangs into you right away, but I think I’ll keep you in suspense today.

[Ruki trails his fingers along your skin again—your cheek and your ear this time.]

Ruki: Your cheek, your ear… Where would you like me to bite you?

[You tremble.]

Ruki: What’s wrong? You’re already trembling from my fingers tracing your skin… Does it excite you that much?

[You deny it.]

Yuma: You can deny it all you want, but you don’t sound very convincing. You’re just covered in weak spots, right? I bet you’ll cry out nicely when I touch your back. Let’s see…

[Yuma caresses your back and your voice slips.]

12:00 Yuma: Haha. What was that shameless sound just now? That’s all it takes to turn you on? What a lewd lil' thing you are.

[You struggle.]

Yuma: For fuck's sake... What’re you actin’ all innocent for when you’re clearly beggin’ to be touched?

Ruki: Are you writhing like that because you want it so badly it hurts, then? You’re out of luck, though—I’ll drag it out. You won’t learn discipline if you always get what you want right away, after all. I'll caress you slowly, deliberately, until you’re absolutely flushed with heat...

[You quietly protest, but like Yuma said, you don’t sound convincing at all.]

Yuma: Nah, you’re actually way into this, ain’t you? If you want our fangs, beg for it.

Ruki: Where would you like me to bite you? Tell me. I can't promise that I’ll honour your wishes, though.

[You struggle against them with all your might, kicking and screaming.]

Yuma: Hey, calm down—

[You accidentally kick the coffin in your efforts to get away.]

Yuma & Ruki: Huh?

Yuma: Oh, dammit. Now part of the lid’s broken because you were kickin’ so hard.

Ruki: The coffin itself has deteriorated quite a bit, too. That said, your kicking did most of the damage. Yuma. Let her go. Her punishment is on hold for now. We can’t have her destroy that coffin before we confirm what’s inside.

Yuma: Well, whatever.

[Yuma lets you go and your knees immediately give out.]

Yuma: Haha. What’re you sittin’ down for? Didya really feel that good? Well, we’ll take our sweet time with you when we continue later. I mean, you wanna see what’s inside the coffin too, right?

[You get up again.]

Ruki: Yuma, can you open it up?

Yuma: Yeah, hold on—

[Yuma opens the lid of the coffin all the way.]

Yuma & Ruki: Oh? 

Yuma: The hell’s this?

Ruki: They look like kimono (1) and combs from a long time ago… 

Yuma: There’s a whole bunch of stuff that I don’t really recognise, too…

Ruki: I see. It seems we’ve unearthed a time capsule.

14:08 Yuma: A time… capsule? What’s that?

Ruki: People put various things from their time in a box and bury it. Usually, they’re unearthed after a long time, when someone wants to reminisce.

Yuma: Why’s it buried here in the garden?

Ruki: I don’t know what happened on this land before the Mukami mansion was built. However, whoever buried this box clearly put a lot of thought into it.

Yuma: Huh. So what’re we gonna do with it?

[You suggest burying it again to preserve its contents.]

Ruki: Easy for you to say, considering you were kicking it earlier. However, I have no objections to that idea. Let’s put it back in the ground.

Yuma: Even though we went through all that trouble to dig it up?

Ruki: We have no need for it. 

Yuma: Well, that’s true. Let’s bury it somewhere where it won’t interfere with my garden. I don’t really get it, though. What’s fun about preservin’ the past?

Ruki: I wonder. It’s a human endeavour first and foremost, though. It has little to do with us.

[You shift on your feet.]

Yuma: Huh? What’s up?

[You tell him you understand.]

Yuma: Understand what?

[You explain.]

Yuma: The feelin’ of wantin’ to cherish your memories?

Ruki: Heh. Memories are worthless. It’s truly something for shallow humans to want to convey memories from their own time period to later generations. Do not think there’s any worth in doing that.

[You disagree. You’ve made nice memories with the Mukami family, after all.]

Ruki: What?

Yuma: Haha. Well said. So, even though you haven’t had it easy since you started livin’ with us, you still made some good memories?

[You nod.]

Yuma: Heh. Isn’t that ‘cause we’ve trained (2) you to think that? Well, I do kinda get what you’re sayin’. Everyone’s got at least some precious memories, after all. Right, Ruki? 

16:08 Ruki: Heh. Still, I don’t understand the need to bury them where they’ll never see the light of day.

Yuma: Yeah, I’m with you on that.

[You try to convince them, but…]

Yuma: Nah, it’s alright. Besides, you gotta help me bury this thing again. And after that, we’ve still got harvestin’ to do!

[You’re surprised.]

Ruki: Heh. You unearthed it, so it’s only logical that you have to help burying it again. You’d better work up a sweat while you’re at it.

Yuma: Hey, Ruki. You’re already here anyway, so lend us a hand too, will ya? With the harvestin’ and all.

Ruki: What? You’re seriously asking me that?

Yuma: You’re makin’ her her favourite for dinner, right? We won’t make it in time for dinner if you don’t harvest the necessary veggies yourself.

Ruki: Tch. That’s not something I should need to dirty my hands for. Hey. Harvest whatever you’d like to eat yourself.

Yuma: C’mon, Ruki. Put in the work for once. You’ll be covered in mould eventually if you keep readin’ so much.

Ruki: You might want to consider that we’re vampires. Do you seriously think there are other vampires who think it’s healthy to work outside on days when the sun’s this bright?

Yuma: I like it, so that’s all that matters! You think so too, right?

Ruki: For fuck’s sake... I won’t do it. I refuse!

Yuma: It’s alright, it’s alright! Hurry ‘n c’mere!

Ruki: You two do it!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Besides the obvious traditional Japanese clothing, the word kimono literally means ‘things to wear’ and can also be understood as ‘clothes’ more generally. I think the latter may also apply here.

調教（ちょうきょう）refers to the training of animals.

[floweycidal]

Is it just me or does flowey get humbled in both genocide and pacifist routes?

Genocide because he felt the pain and fear he caused others

Pacifist is pretty self explanatory

to say flowey was humbled would be an understatement. bro really did all this just to lose LMFAO

on a serious note, you're right. flowey does get humbled. in every route, actually. that is because he is destined to lose. to me, the world seemed like it just never accounted for his revival, nor did it consider anything that might spring from his existence.

flowey's entire life was built around frustration, a world that spun on without him, leaving him behind like an afterthought. no matter how many resets he triggered, how many paths he took, he never found meaning. nothing he did felt real, nothing produced anything that lasted. he was drowning in the monotony, in the overwhelming sense that the universe was dull and utterly uncaring about whether he was there or not.

this is where his delirium n obsession begins. if the world wouldn’t offer him anything worthwhile, he’d take it. if the universe ignored him, he would force it to notice. he became consumed with the need for control, desperate to pull the strings, to carve out something, anything meaningful in a life that had none.

but regardless of what he did, it was never enough. he saw every outcome, lived every route, read every book, burned every book. he spared everyone, he killed everyone. none of it ever amounted to anything.

the same faces, the same hollow conversations, the same endless loop. every time, it brought him right back to where he started, as if he hadn’t done a thing.

that was the real cruelty. whatever he tried, the outcomes were always the same, predictable and unfulfilling, none of them going in a way that truly satisfied him. they bored him, wore him down, as though the universe was mocking his every effort. every route he took, every decision he made led to nothing substantial. he was losing interest. his reasons for living were dwindling, fast.

the world went on, indifferent to his suffering, and that very apathy ate away at him. it drove him crazy out of his mind.

then you came along. suddenly, there was hope. a perverted kind of hope that maybe this time would be different. you could finally bring about something authentic into his life, your unpredictability a breath of fresh air. it was a flutter of change in a universe that had otherwise forsaken him.

in geno, flowey is almost thrilled by the chaos you cause. he praises you, revels in your violence, as if your cruelty is proof that his worldview was right all along. you become the demon he always believed you could be. and for a brief instant, he feels justified, even vindicated. but even that falls flat bc in the end, you take things further than he ever could. you tear through the world with a coldness that makes even him tremble. he’s staring down the barrel of his own logic, realizing that in a world where you’ve killed everyone, you’re going to kill him too. the power he used to reset everything, to cheat death, means nothing now. he’s left with nothing but terror. whoever convinced him he was in control? #humbled

in neutral, flowey tries one more time. he taunts you, eggs you on, hoping that at least in death, he can prove that the world is as cruel and merciless as he always believed.

but when you spare him, when you refuse to give him that twisted validation, it’s the ultimate rejection of everything he stands for. mercy is the one thing he can’t handle because it'll just mean he was wrong. you don’t have to be violent to win. you don’t have to be cruel to survive. so... he flees. #humbled

in pacifist, flowey is convinced this is it. he is god. he finally wields the power to keep you here with him. you'll play his game over and over again, and this time, he’s sure it will work. but as fate would have it, you break through his defenses, restoring the lost souls and calling out to him with a warmth that disarms him completely.

he’s left flabbergasted as his power falters against your unwavering spirit. for all his might, he realizes he’s lost control (again). all his efforts to grasp at godhood collapse, leaving him to reckon with the reality that his power meant nothing in the presence of true compassion. #HUMBLEDD

all flowey ever wanted was a single victory. just One. in a life stripped of everything dear, where he was left with only emptiness, he yearned to believe that if he held on tightly enough, if he played his cards just right, he could finally win. but that outcome was always just out of reach.

it slipped away like everything else. it simply was not meant to be.

flowey's most formidable foe was ultimately himself. as it turns out, his refusal to let go is what truly condemned him.

for letting go meant accepting chara was gone, and nothing could ever return to how it was.

for letting go meant remaining a soulless flower, trapped in a dismal existence, endlessly tormented by his loss and incapacity to love as he once did.

for letting go meant confronting the unsettling possibility that he might never find joy again.

for letting go meant accepting that perhaps, after everything, there genuinely was nothing left for him.

...is it really any wonder, then, that he sought out control with such pitiful desperation?

siiiiiigh

i'm not sure how we ended up here, but.... thanks for the ask, anon!

[frodo-with-glasses]

Where have you been?

Uhhh, France?

(That’s a Hamilton reference, btw. I have never been to France.)

So! Another Hobbit Day is upon us. On this day last year, I’d promised you all that we would take another trek through LotR, with all new drawings and poems and fanfics. I fully expected to be finished with Book One by now, at least halfway through FotR. What actually happened is that the blog struggled through the first five and a half chapters of the book before suddenly going radio silent.

So what happened?

Well, as you might expect, real life happened. I won't go into the details here—since it has nothing to do with LotR—but I can explain in DMs if anyone is interested.

Basically, a change in my family led to a reexamination of what I thought I knew about my family, which led to a reexamination of what I thought I knew about myself, which kicked off an intense period of self-improvement.

Over the course of this past year, I began to unpack my family's abuse; I learned about boundaries; I started to unlearn my old people-pleasing tendencies; I reconnected relationships that were broken, reevaluated ones that were in the wrong place, and cut off ones that weren't good for me. I discovered there was a little kid in my head who's been waiting years and years for an adult to love her, and to take her needs seriously, and I finally have the chance to be that adult. And I'm happy to say that I've come to a place where I feel safer in my own head than I have ever been.

Probably very little of that is going to show through on this blog. It's all inward stuff; foundational stuff. But one thing that might affect you guys is that I left my (dreadfully overstimulating and stressful) part-time job, and I'm now working full time somewhere else. As much as I love what I do for a living now, working 40 hours a week does mean that I am become Boring Adult who does not have as much time for interneting. With my current schedule, there is no way I'd be able to sustain the intense schedule of "must post one drawing a day" that I had in the early days of this blog; and I don't expect myself to.

But! I would like to—slowly—get this train rolling again.

I find it hilariously apropos that the last piece of art I posted on this blog was of Frodo suddenly disappearing. From Merry's perspective, he completely vanished without explanation or warning. From your perspective, so did I.

But I find myself here again, on another September 22nd, and once again I'm beginning to feel that pull; that pull to read, and draw, and create, and share, and laugh with all of you. Life has calmed down enough for me that I once again have the mental space to think about pursuing my hobbies. There are so many things I want to do—so much to do with the time that is given to me. And I want this blog to be on that list.

My current goal is to post some new book art every other day. If that's too much, I'll adjust it. But if I find my groove and really get into it, who knows? We might return to your regularly scheduled Daily Dose of Frodo-With-Glasses. We shall have to see.

Anyway. If you've read this far, thank you! If you've stuck with this blog since the early days, thank you. And if you are one of that lovely core Fellowship that has had my back and prayed for me all along, I cannot thank you enough.

This past year has been an absolute ride. Not as difficult as a trek to Mordor, maybe, but not easy either. But no matter where I walked, I knew I didn't have to take the journey alone.

Anyway! Enough sappiness. Happy Hobbit Day! I'm excited to see what the next year has in store for us. 💚

[asteraddicted]

Small interaction idea I got for the Supersons (pre-Jon age up; I HATE THAT PART) soooo sorry if this is bad its my first official drabble post (did i use that term correctly???)

Based on this (one part blacked out bc idk how tumblr would take it)

[—-—-—-—-—-—-—-🫧🪼-—-—-—-—-—-—-—]

"Hey, Damian?" Jon spoke up, he and Damian lounging in Damian's room because— no offense to Clark, but Wayne Manor was cooler for sleepovers.

"Yes, Kent?" Damian huffed, focused on sharpening one of his many daggers. Despite the dynamic, the two were undeniable best friends. It was surprising at first, with Damian's blunt, down-to-earth personality with snap backs and insults that would make a grown man cry. Damian Wayne, best friends with a sunny, optimistic, 'blinding everyone with his smile' Jon Kent. But of course, the two didn't start out that way.

"Remember when you practically- no, you DID kidnap me after I accidentally.. killed a cat and a hawk?" Jon mumbled the last part, clearly still ashamed of it. He hadn't told Damian the whole story yet, despite how long it had been. Damian's eyebrows furrowed, and he got a little closer. He remembered those times, back before they were friends.

"Yes, I remember," he replied, his voice still firm as he inquired. "Why are you bringing that up again, Kent?" Damian — despite his almost inhuman abilities, talents, and feats — was still human, and still had the ability to forget things.

"..Nothing! It's just.. the cat. Goldie was her name. It's her deathday today." Jon frowned, having always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Jon couldn't help but mistake the sting building up in his eyes as the burning feeling of letting his heat vision go off and MURDER cremate the two innocent creatures on accident. It was only for a second, but Damian could see how Jon panicked in that little moment.

"And? Your point?" He said, his tone a surprisingly a tad bit softer than usual. He didn't really know what Jon was talking about. Really, he did remember kidnapping Jon because he didn't trust him. But to Damian? That was like another regular Tuesday for him.

"..I didn't mean to kill Goldie, or the hawk. I know you know that. But Goldie had escaped her house, and I was chasing her to get her back." Jon began to explain, and he wasn't as cheerful as he usually was. Not as he finally told Damian the full story. Jon couldn't help it. It had been at the very least a few years ago, but the horror Jon had felt that day was something Jon himself never forgot.

"..their bodies were charred and burning. Couldn't tell hawk from cat.. only Goldie's collar remained! I.." Jon had to go quiet to compose himself. His hands were actually shaking. Damian listened to the story. He knew something was wrong with Jon. He was not his usual cheerful, confident self.

Damian looked at Jon, his expression hard to read. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to comfort him. Damian was never good at comfort. He just sat back in silence for a while, processing what Jon had told him. Being from the League of Assassins, death was nothing new to him. Hell, he's killed animals on purpose for mission and training before he was taken to Wayne Manor. Whales and tigers and lions and eagles, on and on. It was a little hard to see from Jon's perspective, but Damian tried.

"..Y'know.. I don't think you remember what you said to me when I woke up after you kidnapped me. Hehe.." Jon let out a chuckle, smiling with his teeth to try and lighten his sadness with humor. "You told me.. 'You are a threat to every living thing on and off this planet.' And Damian, I know this is stupid, but.." Jon curled his knees to his chest, eyes on the blank screen as a movie they were watching played it's end credits.

"..I believed you. In a way.. I still do. I'm scared of myself, Dami." Jon admitted quietly before grinning and wiping his tears.

"But I guess that's pretty dumb, right?" Jon grinned widely. He was half-Kryptonian and his dad was Superman! He shouldn't cry, and he didn't have any reason to! He was growing up, and he should be more in control of his emotions.

Yet Jon had let his mind wander multiple times, whenever he passed by where it happened. It was ironic, but Jon couldn't help but be scared of himself. Yes, himself. He had the powers of Superman — the Man of Steel himself. And he was also a young boy who could be easily tricked and manipulated. Jon was strong and carefree, but he wasn't stupid. At least not all the time. Jon has witnessed some extremely traumatic events in his life. The possibility that he had the power to massacre entire cities — maybe states, countries, or eventually the world? That was something that made Jon want to lock himself up in a kryptonite cage and hide away.

Jon was afraid of his powers and the destruction they could bring. He was immune to fire, but still couldn't stop himself from imagining the burning, mangled, charred bodies of a hawk and a cat each time there was a fire that was large enough.

Damian clenched his jaw. He remembered that day. He remembered telling Jon that he was a threat. Listening to Jon talk about his fear of himself and his own powers made something inside of Damian ache. He didn't like it. Not one bit.

"It's not dumb," he said, his voice softer than usual. Damian didn't know why he was being so soft (he knew exactly why, but he didn't want to admit it. Not yet.). "And you're not a threat, Kent. You're not. You never were. You're the last person who's a threat to anything."

"That's EXACTLY why I'm a threat, Dames! I'm part Kryptonian!.. I'm invincible to most on Earth." Jon exclaimed, sighing. "I can still go rogue! Dad has gone rogue before. I don't.." Jon trailed off.

"Kent. If you think for a second I'd let you go rogue, just know my Father has plenty of Kryptonite stocked away that I would not hesitate to use." Damian narrowed his eyes, but not in an angry way. It was affectionate, though it would be hard to tell from an outsider's perspective. Jon, oddly enough, felt reassured. Reassured that if something goes wrong, that Damian would be there to stop him. He'd always be there to stop him.

"You promise, Dames?" Jon couldn't help but whisper.

"Yes, I promise. Now come on. Didn't you want to show me this movie called 'Legally Blonde' or something?" Damian rolled his eyes, but they still held that tinge of care. That hint of affection that was only reserved for Jon, and wasn't the type that Damian held for his family. No, Damian had a part of his heart specifically reserved for Jon Kent.

"Okay, good. Now come on, let's watch a pretty girl kick legal butt!" Jon grinned, ultimately feeling much better. He was so lucky to have Damian.

[—-—-—-—-—-—-—-🫧🪼-—-—-—-—-—-—-—]

AN: First post, not beta read and written in the dead of night lol. I do not write much. Romantic or platonic? Idk you choose :P

[sugar-crash]

🏎️Turbo (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader🏁

(Beginning Relationship Pt. I Edition!)

(It took me fucking forever to find a picture from the movie of Turbo [far too cowardly to use fanart]. Which, as we all know, is fitting.)

- To go into deeper detail on this, your time dating Turbo when he was all high and mighty was… Eventful to say the very least.

- We don’t know much about how Turbo pre-RoadBlasters disaster besides the most obvious points: passionate, sore winner, an even sorer loser, hot-headed, and finally the cherry on this red-white cake; Spite.

- His passion for various things bleeds into the other things in his life, giving a drive that goes beyond the racing track, with the relationship he gains with you being one of those things with a lot of time and patience.

- Victory kisses at the end of the day are a must, even when listening to his frustrated woes from certain players playing game wrong, saying things like “I’M FATTEST RAT IN THE RACE! WHY SHOULD I SUFFER WHEN THESE MOTION DEAF TERMITES DECIDE TO PUT A COUPLE OF COINS IN MY GAME???” ….Yeah <3

- I think in many ways that if you get his trust so much to the point where you guys start dating, he just kinda expects you to listen to his aggravated rants and not do the same for you— Which takes a lot of time to rectify, in his mind he doesn’t think you “have it as bad” as him, as ignorant as that is.

- Yeah he doesn’t exactly get a trophy for “best lover”, that’s for sure.

- And his stubborn behavior doesn’t make that any better, takes him a while to get certain things drilled into his brain when he finally realizes what you’re saying isn’t “nagging”.

- Don’t get him wrong, I genuinely think he has the capability to care for someone else over himself, it just takes a whole lot of work for him to consciously realize that.

- PDA isn’t really much of a thing for Turbo (except for his “well earned” victory kisses) , he has a reputation to uphold as one of the most popular game characters in the arcade, though behind closed doors he basically demands the attention you give him at first.

- If you don’t like being ordered around and tell him as such, it takes a series of fights to realize being bossy in a romantic relationship (or any in general) isn’t exactly the best thing. The obvious in these situations isn’t to him, he has a very one track mind (pun intended) and doesn’t like change when it effects him.

- Which is very understandable, human even, I think that many of us, if we had a choice, would keep things just the way we like it. But— Life itself is all about change, conflict, differing opinions, etc. And while it is aggravating to no end, it’s something a person has to come to terms with.

- Someone like Turbo struggles with that concept, why can’t he act the way he finds more natural?? This stone set mindset drives many way, even the people from his game— Even you at times.

- He loves you to death, with the way he sticks close to you after hours, the way he gets a momentary soft look at you when he thinks you aren’t looking is perceptible to people who pay attention.

- Much like his latter self, King Candy, he has the tendency to hide things from you— Not in a way that maintains a noble or joyous persona, but in a way that tries to hide his softness for you, the desire to clutch you close and never let go.

- The feelings your mere existence gives him scares him, not that he would ever admit that, not even to himself.

- He hates that at times his feelings depend on how you feel, and trying to understand it only stirs the pot, touches of comfort are met with a scoff and some variation of “I’m not some fragile lamb you can comfort.” Though at that point his reactions aren’t nearly as explosive as they used to be.

- Over time I believe that with your help he is able to maintain more composure— Thinking before acting, which is something he is desperate need for.

- Your relationship is very hit and miss at times, but what is love without conflict? BORING, that’s what I say at least.

- Who he is as a whole is both a blessing and a curse, really makes a person think in a “What goes on in that asshole’s head? And how the fuck did he get with someone?”

- The time you have with him before RoadBlasters was installed was special, not perfect in the slightest, but you guy had your moments that one can look at later on with a sense of melancholy.

(Abyiv-ahzapj! *SVBK MHYA UVPZL*)

[strayrockette]

His Eyes on Me: Part Three

Masterlist/Part One-Part Two

Summary: The summer festival is in full swing, Natalie and Lacey try to encourage her to talk to Benny. She gets some practice later on in the day.

A/n: This chapter went through SOOOOO many drafts and edits. I'm so glad to get it out of my sight and excited to see your guys' response because yah girl over here could not STAWP gigglin'

The sound of our laughter echoed lightly around us, and the sweetness of vanilla ice cream melted on my tongue as I half-listened to Natalie and Lacey giving me what they called “The Benny Crash Course.”

It was their latest attempt to prepare me for any future run-ins with the guy who’d been on my mind a little too much since we’d met. Every day since our awkward first encounter, my thoughts had drifted back to his piercing blue eyes and the calm way he’d answered my question, like he had no problem just staring at me. It was disarming, to say the least.

"Next time you see him, talk to him," Natalie urged, her eyes serious but her lips twitching with a smirk. "Just be your normal, funny self. You’ll be fine."

I couldn’t help but snort into my ice cream, leaning forward and shrugging with exaggerated comical disbelief. “Or I could… you know… run away? Worked last time.”

Lacey burst out laughing, nearly spilling her own ice cream. “No, no! Talk. You will use words,” she teased, giving me a dramatic point with her spoon, her expression all mock seriousness.

I straightened up, tapping my chin thoughtfully as if considering something very serious. “Or…” I drawled, leaning back with a mischievous grin, “I could not talk to him. Save myself the embarrassment. That sounds pretty ideal.”

Both Natalie and Lacey stopped in their tracks, giving me the most synchronized deadpan expression I’d ever seen. “Absolutely not,” they said in perfect unison, their matching glares enough to make me crack up.

I sighed and playfully threw my hands up in surrender. “I don’t know, pretending he doesn’t exist seems like the best plan. Ignoring problems always works, right?”

Lacey shook her head, barely containing a smile. “Oh yeah, because pretending a tall, handsome guy who’s clearly into you isn’t real? Great strategy"

Natalie was a bit more direct. “You’re doing that thing again—acting like you’re not interested when we both know you’ve been thinking about him.”

I shot her a half-hearted glare but couldn’t hold back the smile tugging at my lips. They weren’t wrong, as much as I hated to admit it. “He makes me nervous"

“Sweet pea,” Lacey said, sidling up beside me and throwing an arm over my shoulder, “it’s okay to be nervous but trust me. The next time you see Benny, you’ll be fine. Just don’t run away like you did last time.”

Our conversation faded as we walked aound the park. Hopping around as we enjoyed the summer sun and the activities the festival offered. The park was alive with excitement—bright lights strung up along the trees, the sound of a live band playing upbeat tunes, and the sweet smell of cotton candy and caramel wafting through the air. The whole scene felt like something out of a postcard, the kind of night where you could forget about everything else and just get lost in the moment. Lacey and Natalie had wandered off to check out one of the game booths, and I had strayed from them, my eye on the cotton candy stand at the edge of the festival.

My stomach growling at the sight of the pink, fluffy treat. The line had dwindled, and as I stepped up, I fumbled around in my purse for some change. Of course, everything but money seemed to surface—lipstick, an old movie ticket, gum wrappers. I sighed in frustration, digging deeper as the vendor waited patiently. The music from the band drifted through the warm night air, and I could hear people laughing and enjoying the festival behind me.

Just as I found the coins I was searching for, someone slid in beside me. The movement was so casual, like they had been standing there all along, but it caught me off guard. Their chest brushed against the back of my shoulder, and I froze as the scent of cologne, leather, and cigarettes hit me all at once. It was familiar, intoxicating in a way that sent my heart into overdrive before I even looked up.

I knew who it was before I turned my head. Benny.

Benny didn’t say anything as I looked up at him, his expression unreadable, and cool. My brows furrowed slightly, caught off guard by the sight of him in a place like this. He didn’t seem like the type to be at a festival—too rough around the edges, too… out of place in a crowd full of families and kids. I hadn’t expected a guy like him to show up somewhere so bright, so cheerful. He didn’t exactly blend into the backdrop of laughter and neon lights. He dropped coins into the vendor's hands.

My eyes flickered to the vendor, who was holding out the cotton candy I’d ordered. His hand was expectant, and I blinked, shaking myself out of my thoughts. With a quick smile, I mumbled a quiet, “Thanks,” to the vendor and grabbed the candy, stepping away as I tried to maneuver around Benny.

“Thanks for paying,” I added quietly, not daring to look up at him as I said it. My voice came out a little too soft, the words awkward and uncertain. Something about him made me feel disoriented like I couldn’t quite think straight when he was this close. I tried to draw some encouragement from Lacey's earlier words, you'll be fine, just don't run.

Without a word, Benny fell into step beside me, moving as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His hand settled gently on my lower back, a touch so casual, so familiar like it had always been there. My heart raced at the contact, a mix of confusion and nerves surging through me. Why was he even bothering? He didn’t know me—not really—but he sure acted like he did.

I could feel the warmth of his hand through the thin fabric of my dress, and it made it hard to focus on anything but the steady thrum of my pulse. I didn’t understand what he wanted—why he was even here, walking with me like we had some kind of history. It felt… strange. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to pull away.

I stopped walking, turning slightly so I could glance up at him, my heart still pounding in my chest. “Why are you here?” I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it. It wasn’t accusatory, just… curious. I couldn’t figure him out. Benny seemed like the kind of guy who belonged in smoky bars or speeding down empty highways, not standing beside me at a festival, surrounded by kids and balloons.

He looked down at me, his gaze steady, cool as ever, but he didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched out, the sounds of the festival fading into the background as we stood there, just the two of us, the world shrinking around us.

Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but tinged with amusement. “I could ask you the same thing.”

His words hung in the air, and I hesitated for a moment, the weight of his gaze making my stomach flutter. A small part of me wanted to retreat, to let the nerves win and shy away. But instead, I found myself pushing through, the edges of a playful smile tugging at my lips. You'll be fine...

“Well,” I said, my voice trying for cheeky but betraying a bit of my nerves, “I’m wondering what a big tough biker guy like you is doing at a festival. Not exactly your scene, right?”

The moment the words left my mouth, I felt a surge of both relief and anxiety. I’d said it—teasing him, pushing back a little, trying not to get lost in my nerves. But still, I couldn’t shake the rush of heat that crept up my neck, the way my heart thudded against my ribs as I waited for him to respond.

Benny’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile, and his hand, still resting lightly on my back, pressed just a bit more firmly.

“Maybe I just like cotton candy,” he said, his voice low and teasing, that playful glint in his eyes making my heart skip a beat.

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “No, try again,” I said, my nerves starting to fade as I tilted my head slightly, my eyes twinkling as I looked at him.

Benny’s smile widened, just a little, but enough to show me he was enjoying this just as much as I was. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping an octave, his breath warm against my ear as he spoke again. “No,” he repeated slowly, his eyes locked on mine. “I didn’t want you slipping through my fingers again.”

My breath hitched at his words, my heart racing, but the smile on my face didn’t falter. I bowed my head attempting to hide away from his eyes.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” Benny said, his voice low, teasing, but with an edge that made my heart flutter.

The words sent a jolt through me, my cheeks flushing a deep pink before I could even think of how to respond. I tried to play it off, brush it aside, but the warmth spreading across my face was undeniable. The familiar nervous energy surged inside me, and an embarrassed giggle slipped out before I could stop it. Instinctively, I raised a hand to cover my face, as if that would somehow hide how completely flustered I felt.

His gaze—intense, unwavering—was too much. Too close. The way his words lingered between us left my mind spinning and struggling to catch up. I let out a soft laugh, more to relieve the tension in my chest than anything, and spun on my heels, desperately trying to regain some semblance of composure.

But Benny wasn’t about to let me slip away that easily.

I heard his footsteps behind me—steady, deliberate, as if he knew there was no point in rushing. Within moments, his long strides caught up with mine effortlessly, and suddenly he was beside me again, walking in step with me like it was the most natural thing in the world. His presence was magnetic, pulling me in despite my best efforts to distance myself. The space between us felt heavy, charged with something unspoken but impossible to ignore.

“You’re runnin' away again?” he asked, amusement dancing in his voice.

I shook my head, laughing softly despite the fact that my heart was still racing in my chest. I glanced over at him, the teasing smile still lingering on my lips. “What? A tough guy like you can’t handle a good chase?” I raised an eyebrow, adjusting my grip on the cotton candy, trying to keep my voice steady despite the wild fluttering of butterflies in my stomach.

Benny’s smirk deepened, and his eyes glinted with that playful spark that always made me feel both nervous and excited at the same time. “Oh, I can handle it,” he said, his voice low, smooth, as he stepped a little closer. “But you’re not making it much of a chase.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I could feel the warmth of his body brushing against mine as we walked. Our steps fell perfectly in sync.

I laughed again, there was something so intoxicating about the way he moved beside me, the way he spoke, the way he looked at me.

“Now that you mention it,” I said, tapping my chin thoughtfully, trying to regain some control over the situation, “I think it’s about time for me to run away again. Catch me later?”

I flashed him a playful smile, my heart still pounding as I looked up at him through my lashes. It was a half-joke, half-challenge, and I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks again.

Benny’s smirk widened, his eyes darkening with something that sent my heart racing even faster. “You can try,” he murmured, his voice soft but sure, his gaze locking onto mine with that quiet intensity that made it feel like time had slowed down.

I swallowed hard, my breath catching in my throat as his words settled over me. I glanced down at the cotton candy in my hand, suddenly hyperaware of everything—the warmth radiating off him, the way our steps still moved in perfect harmony, and the fact that, deep down, I didn’t want to run. Not really.

“So what?” I stopped, turning to face him fully, standing even closer now. My heart pounded in my chest, but I didn’t pull away. “You gonna follow me around all night”

Benny stepped closer, his chest nearly brushing against mine, his gaze never wavering. His hand hovered near my arm, not quite touching, but close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him. My breath hitched as his presence filled the small space between us.

“Maybe,” he said, his voice softer now, lower, the teasing lilt fading into something more serious, more deliberate. “If that’s what it takes to keep you from running.”

"You're serious" The weight of his words dawning on me. I laughed, "Why would you waste your time following me around?"

His lips curled into that familiar smirk, but it was softer this time, more genuine. “Who says it’s a waste of time?” he replied smoothly, his voice low and calm, like he had the whole thing figured out and was just waiting for me to catch on.

My heart was pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it. The air around us had shifted, pulling us closer together, and I couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like if I leaned in just a little more if I closed the distance between us. My eyes flickered to his lips for the briefest second before I caught myself, but not quickly enough.

Benny noticed. Of course, he noticed. His smirk softened into something more real, more genuine, and his gaze held mine, steady and unwavering. My face flushed again, and I glanced down at the cotton candy in my hand, trying to gather my thoughts.

“What if I said ‘please, don’t follow me?’” I asked, tilting my head and biting my lip, hoping he’d let me off the hook. But Benny just chuckled, a low, warm sound that vibrated through me, shaking his head as if the very idea was amusing.

I laughed nervously, looking away from him and back at the carnival lights, trying to find some relief from the tension building between us. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” I muttered, shaking my head.

Benny just shrugged, effortlessly calm, like he had all the time in the world. “Maybe.”

“So what, you follow me all night,” I continued, turning back to him, still caught up in the strange, magnetic pull of this moment. “And then what? How does that end?” I asked, my voice soft, curious, but underneath, there was something else—a question I didn’t know how to fully ask.

He didn’t answer right away, silence thick with anticipation.

“Guess we’ll have to find out,” he finally said, his voice soft but firm, the promise of something more hidden in those words.

“No,” I said, my voice soft but steady, a smile curling at my lips as I shook my head. “Can we skip the whole following me around thing and just get to the point?”

For a split second, something shifted in Benny’s expression. Maybe it was surprise, or amusement, but it quickly faded into that calm, confident look he always wore. He stepped closer, and I held my breath, fighting the urge to run away.

His voice dropped, low and rough, like gravel under a boot. “Get to the point, huh?” His eyes flickered to my lips for just a beat before locking back onto mine, his gaze unwavering. “And what exactly do you think the point is, peach?”

The intensity of his stare, the unspoken implication behind his words, sent a rush through me that I wasn’t prepared for. My mind blanked, and for a second, I couldn’t think. His presence, his closeness, the way he was looking at me—it all felt like too much and not enough at the same time.

I glanced around, trying to gather my thoughts, the carnival lights blurring in my peripheral vision. My feet rocked slightly as I shifted my weight, searching for the words, for anything that wouldn’t make me seem completely out of my depth. But all I could do was feel the charge between us, my pulse racing in time with the chaos swirling in my chest.

“I don’t know,” I finally said, my voice breathy, my heart pounding harder as I looked back at him. A grin slowly spread across my lips, my pulse daring me to play along, to push back against the tension. “But I hope you can keep up.”

Before he could respond, I turned on my heel, my grin widening as I dashed into the crowd, slipping through the throngs of people. The sound of carnival games and laughter swirled around me as I moved, my adrenaline spiking with every step. I didn’t dare look back, but I could feel the heat of his gaze on me, feel the thrill of whether or not he’d follow.

A part of me hoped he would.

As I weaved through the crowd, the lights flickering overhead, I could feel my heart still pounding, a rush of excitement buzzing through my veins.

-

“YOU RAN AWAY AGAIN!” Lacey screeched, her voice echoing through the living room. I shrunk deeper into the couch, my cheeks burning as I fidgeted with my fingers, trying to suppress a giggle.

“…maybe,” I muttered, unable to keep the smile from spreading. But the memory of darting away from Benny had me both embarrassed and oddly excited.

“This is no laughing matter!” Lacey was losing it now, pacing in front of me like a storm about to break. “YOU LITERALLY HAD HIM RIGHT THERE, AND YOU RAN!”

Natalie, far less dramatic, swung her feet lazily in the air as she lay on the floor flipping through a magazine. Without even glancing up, she smirked and said, “I bet he’ll tie you down next time he sees you.”

I bit my lip, my stomach doing a flip at the thought. “That’s not... no, he wouldn’t,” I protested, but the way my pulse quickened at the idea told a different story.

Lacey stopped pacing long enough to level me with an incredulous look. “Oh, he absolutely would. After the stunt you pulled? I don’t think he’s going to let you slip away so easily next time.”

I hugged a pillow to my chest, my mind racing back to the way Benny had looked at me, the way he’d closed the space between us with just a look, how he was right there, and I still ran. “I panicked,” I mumbled, more to myself than to them.

“You panicked?” Lacey threw her hands up. “Girl, if he had looked at me like that, I’d have thanked him.”

Natalie chuckled from her spot on the floor. “I think you liked running. Adds to the chase.” She shot me a knowing look, and I sank further into the couch, burying my face in the pillow.

Maybe she was right.

Taglist: @prettybubblesintheair, @storiesfromafan, @aleemendoza2425-blog, bellesdreamyprofile (I figured you would like to blush some more 😉💕peachcobblerinmymumsbasement

[ballsbalb]

ibr, the ter stegen hate is wild to me.

maybe it’s just because i’m a keeper and it’s how i was raised in the footy world, but it’s wild how quick fanbases (cough cough barca fans) forget

a year and a half ago, people were calling him the best keeper in the world, and within the year people were calling him washed & saying he had to leave

imo, barca fans (of which, again, i feel i need to clarify every time i say something about this club, I AM ONE) are just spoiled. for decades, we had the likes of messi and ronaldinho and xavi and iniesta and victor valdes, and now we don’t, and people seem obsessed with finding a singular scapegoat for it all when it’s a systemic issue that has been building for years

first its Frenkie, then its Lewa, then its Araujo, then its Gundogan, then it’s Ferran, then it’s Ter Stegen, it’s an endless loop of people pointing fingers and yapping about “arggg get out of my club arggggh” like any of that would actually change anything

realistically, who is a keeper that is not only available on the market, but experienced enough to be a leader in a squad of a lot of youngsters but also young enough to stay at the top for at least a few more years, a strong enough character to be an important component in the dressing room, has the mental and psychological capability to play for a club like Barca where players are crucified for the smallest of things by press, fans, and coaches, is great at playing out of the back whilst also being a good shot stopper, and is responsible enough to be a role model for the younger guys on the team? cause i can’t think of one, and i fuckin doubt any the morons throwing a fit on twitter could, either

its wild to me how insane some people’s mindsets are, where saying shit like “tragic: ter stegen found alive in monaco” and screaming “get out of my club” at their tv and on twitter to their fellow mush-brained fuckheads

MATS has never been a perfectly consistent keeper, sure, and he has his shortcomings especially when it comes to shot stopping, but the guy’s given a decade to the club, and he’s been pretty damn great in that time- he’s one of, if not the best ball-playing keepers i’ve ever seen. the speed with which fans & press will turn on their own players is insane to me, especially at a club like barca where everyone boasts of being “more than a club” and then spams “ARR GET OUT ME CLUB” the second anyone does anything wrong

the blatant entitlement & hypocrisy among so many barca fans online, especially here & on twitter, is just wild to me, because you can call out bad performances all you want but when you’re making nazi jokes and saying that you’re fantasizing about shooting a footy player, let alone one that’s given ten years of his life you your club i’m sorry, but you’ve lost your fucking mind

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

✧₊⁺ Of Fatherhood And Dreams Not Spoken ✧₊⁺

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x OC (Astraea)/ Khan is in this. It's mostly him and Roboute talking.

Author's Note: Because I'm terrible at writing a story proper. I rather just write drabbles from the overall plot I have in mind. That being said this overall plot I have named "Wisdom in the Stars". And here are some key things to note for this overarching story:

This is all very self-indulgent and I will not apologize. If the Grimdark can be extra, so can I!

Bobby G's love interest is a xenos of my making, so they are as long-lived as him, but not a perpetual.

Again mad self-indulgent. Oozing copium by the ton

Rowboat Guillotine deserves a happy life and some damn peace

So many Primarchs are going to be back in some drabbles. Again no fucks given

Proofread? Never heard of her

I like saying Roboute's name wrong as a means of affection.

Warnings: Slight nsfw at the end. Talks of pregnancy, children, and kinks of the breeding variety.

18+ ONLY

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

There were oh so many things he's done that made those words that thundered in his head in a cacophonic choir ring true. Tool. Betrayer. Theif. Why did he focus on those? Perhaps deep down he knew them to be true.

He wanted to be a good son, and he was to his parents. But to his creator? The one that called him his last hope? Even now with all that was accomplished, he wasn't so sure. An effective tool? That he was.

Oh, how that was the crux of this all now. Because something was breaking. Had been for so long. The strict need to follow His every word, every teaching to the letter had long started to crumble. To this point, he could justify it. Excuse himself. But this?

Vibrant blue eyes that had started to have a light behind them, a sign of the better times he was in, gazed down at the dataslate. The message he was reading was still open, not that he needed to read it again. The words burned into his mind. Screamed of his selfishness and brought the crippling fear he might fall like the one before him that wanted such heretical things for himself.

The wrestling of what parts of him were human had never been so hard. Basic human needs were beyond him. At least he believed that. But since his revival and she walked into his life...Why hadn't the Emperor made them machines?

His gaze moved again, this time back to the garden in which he sat, relaxing of sorts. Something he was learning to do. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not yet. She was playing with some children of her maidens. The laughter of the little ones made him impossibly light and much larger than he was.

Those sounds filled him with feelings new, but also familiar. He sounded like that when his mother played with him, and cared for him. Yes, he was a child once, despite how quick his mind grew. His mother never let that stop him from being a child in some capacity.

Yet those laughs terrified him and cast a deep shadow of guilt and shame. Not for him, never for him. A Primarch has no need for biological children, any children. He had his Astartes sons. The best of the best are forged through painful surgeries and grueling tests. Mass-produced versions of the tool they were templated from. He was a god of war, a weapon, and weapons do not need things their masters need.

Roboute scowled. When the stirrings rose up, hot and drowning him out.

"You should do it."

Roboute had been so lost in his mind he hadn't noticed Jaghatai had taken a seat next to him.

"Excuse me?" Guilliman asked. His composure not once gave a hint of how chaotic his mind was at the moment.

At first, it was as if Khan wasn't going to answer him, "Horus, would slip from time to time, about how his children would rule the stars after the crusade was done. Even when Malcador with cold words would remind him, that the only reproducing we would have were our gene-sons," Khan sighed, "You are not going to turn into the next Horus because you long for family not us, or your gene-sons. Do the procedure."

Before Roboute could ask how he knew that was on his mind, or even what he was told Jaghatai continued, "You've been watching Astraea and those kids with so much intent like you were trying to manifest something. That and you happen to want to go to the planet in their empire that is known for its advanced DNA work medical procedures on many races? Namely in the areas of conception? Please. Most of our brothers might be blind, but I and Corvus know better. You're the one who took your gene-seed sample, yes?"

Guilliman nodded, "I assume Corax is the one who found that out?"

Khan nodded, "And Cawl, they handled it. So do it. You out of all of us, always thought of a galaxy at peace, or the closest to it. You never lived for the hunt, the fight, but the peace. You fought for peace over thrill and power. So take this. You are not Horus. You are not weaker. I think we are all starting to wake up in a sense. It is...uncomfortable. But perhaps, we are more than the sum of our creation?"

"I hope so." was all Roboute could say.

༺═──────────────═༻

This, out of everything was what he loved now that the galaxy wasn't on the verge of ending. Laying in bed with Astraea while a fire burns gently. Her soft hums lull him into comfort and bliss. Large fingers drew little circles over her belly, as his mind offered him images of her heavy with their children. How, as much as he hated the word, divine she would look. Oh, how he would worship her. A goddess in her own right. a living one who brought life into the world. Life she deemed him worthy of creating with her.

His mind continued with the future it was offering. How she would waddle about and rely on him to help her stand, or lean against when walking took everything. Her trying to ride him when is looks so ready to pop. How he would fuck her like he could put another one in her before the first child is born. Her already beautifully full breasts, engorged and heavy with milk.

Roboute blushed when he felt himself pushing against her. He craved it so bad, despite how much it scared him.

"Roboute?" Astraea hummed looking over her shoulder with an impish grin, "And here I thought you were tired."

She kissed his chin, as she turned to face him, hands roaming over his strong broad chest, before gliding down to his erection.

He could smell it, she was already aroused. Oh, how she melted for him so easily. But he was the same for her. There were some days he had to force himself away from her for a bit, worried all he would do is fuck her until they both were raw and overtaken by the ruinous powers.

"Would you want children?" Roboute asked, between his heated breaths and needy kisses.

Astraea looked at him a bit surprised, and yet like she half expected this, "I thought we had to wait on even marrying, let alone speak of family. But of course I want children. You know this." she replied.

He did. But he still wanted to ask, as if her mind had suddenly changed.

"Good," he smiled rolling on top of her, holding himself up on his knees, which were on each side, "Then we should get some more practice in."

He leaned down and nipped at her ear, as a hand moved over her breasts and down to her hot core, "For once the procedure is done, you are not leaving my side and bed until it sticks."

This might be the single most selfish thing he would do, but he wouldn't regret it. He wanted to feel human, to understand all that he had been fighting to protect for all these long years.

[fallenclan]

so!! starting off to say Moon 263 [part 2] might be one of my favorite fallenclan updates ever. here are some more specific thoughts because i have A Lot

the first panel with the "not actually chosen" ones chatting is so nice. the colors for this update are so tasty and really have a mystical vibe, but i especially like this first panel with the mushrooms. also, the textboxes look so neat overlapping. i like how wolfbite is quieter and not saying much while feathersight is speaking the most. it can be inferred that he's explaining about how starclan/the glowcave usually works with darkstone and honeysong occasionally adding on, and at the end wolfbite is just like "all right guys, i get it."

the way the starclan cats are drawn is so cool... the "fading" effect that makes them look all watery, as if bits and pieces of them are drifting away?? incredible. i love it! i also really like how the stc textboxes are a different shade. it's just a neat detail. the star effects surrounding them is so pretty also. i just love how you draw the starclan cats in general, they look so magical. i like how away from the glowcave, their colors bleed past the lines, but at the glowcave they appear more solid, as if they're stronger there. i just,, i love it

the cameos! omg. i literally never thought i would see nick again but here we are. i'm a big fan of all the appearances!!

silverbelly is adorable. i love how excited feathersight is to see her. also, when she first appears, i like the detail of darkstone sweating. despite being a medicine cat, he's literally never seen a fully formed starclan cat before. he's nervous!! wolfbite looks shocked but i feel like this is more about the idea of her being "special" rather than seeing silverbelly tbh. she's like "damn i guess i actually am plot relevant."

salmonskip... i was so happy to see her... she's such a goober. nick's "we all had our own cats we hoped would come" was such a fun line as well for its thought provoking effect. i feel like it's a nod to how there were so many different "fourth cat" theories in the discord server but i could be wrong. we all had our ideas! now i'm super curious as to who nick was rooting for... and also who each of the previous leaders wanted (should i send another ask with my theories on who specific starclan cats wanted to be the fourth cat?)

big fan of the "you weren't actually chosen, you chose yourself" yada yada. wonderful! i love choosing your own destiny narratives. i'm sure nothing bad will happen to our little feline heroes

sleepycloud :(

"you sound different than i thought you would" - honeysong, had me in shambles. honeysong is older than lionsong was when he died... he looks so young here

poppyfeather made me laugh. i love the "not that this isn't heartwarming..." that i read in a 100% sarcastic tone. she is not in the mood for happy reunions!! she has a dictator to depose, guys. time to see her vengeful trait come into effect...

the ending! darkstone and honeysong look so envigorated whereas feathersight looks exhausted and wolfbite... looks ready to "do what has to be done." i love how happy she was to see sandsnap, and then how her happiness is buried once the poppyfeather and cherrystar step in with their plan, as if seeing sandsnap only strengthened her desire for revenge.

i had a dream after this post where the squad was about to confront ravenstar and he was all like "you thought i didn't know about your little schemes? cute." and his little gang rolled up (sleepydawn, flamefall, levi, patchback, etc.). i don't remember much else of what happened but i woke up like " oh no . . . the little guys are in danger . . . " anyway this segues into my prediction that there will be at least one death as a direct consequence of their attempt to depose ravenstar.

-🐉 (giggling and swinging my feet)

as always dragon... you literally never miss

i'm so glad you picked up on the textbox thing, you basically got it in one!!! feathersight and honeysong explaining helpfully, darkstone chiming in with his little snips and jokes, wolfbite talking less because she's got somewhat of a listening role there etc

IT WAS SO FUN TO DRAW THEM LIKE THAT... the white lines made it kind of difficult to see the white cats (looking at you sleepycloud) but otherwise. so fun. your assumption is correct, they're more solid there than they are as ghosts, and then in Starclan they arent wispy at all, just faintly glowing with those white lines (though they're so fun to draw like this i might have to just draw the ghosts like this always. idk)

cameos!! Nick was a special request from my sibling that I agreed with wholeheartedly. he was so silly

"damn I guess I actually am plot relevant" LMAO

yup it was a nod to all the guesses!! if i had infinite time and energy i would have put in more starclan cats as nods to specific guesses (Canarywish aka the greatest red herring I ever fished comes to mind), but alas. and you KNOW id love to hear all your thoughts fuck yes!!! (I didn't have anyone in particular in mind for Nick, but if I had to choose I'd say he was hoping for Snailpetal as well, she's his only surviving descendant)

i'm sure nothing will happen ! nothing bad at all!

sleepycloud :( indeed. i will let slip that i've got some plans as far as the sleepydawn situation but that's all i'll say about that for now

SHES ALMOST TWICE THE AGE HE WAS WHEN HE DIED... i always forget how young Lionsong was. not even 30 moons :(

i love Poppyfeather she is ALL business. "listen you guys can come back to the glow cave literally any time after we kill ravenstar's bitch ass can we get on with it pls"

YES EXACTLY!! Honeysong and Darkstone are the Young Optimistic ones, Feathersight is very cautiously optimistic but has seen a lot of shit and is more realistic about the odds they're facing, Wolfbite is in Get Shit Done mode. she's locked in. her thirst for blood has died down a bit upon seeing her dad and now it is HER job to save her clan. weight of the world on this poor girl's shoulders

i'm sure there will be no consequences. dont worry

[scuderia-hamilton]

listen i don't like Daniel, that's a fact, but what's been happening to him during the course of this weekend has been nothing but cruel, unfair and frankly, disrespectful (even if the rumours turn out to be false). i hate nothing more in this sport than teams just dropping drivers in the middle of the season, with little to no warning whatsoever, if they didn't perform to the expectations. these people made and are still making so many sacrifices to be able to be in this sport, they work so fucking hard and i just hate seeing it go to waste like that. it's simply not fair.

you can come up with the regular excuses of it being a cutthroat sport, them being rich, white, privileged men, Daniel performing poorly, i do not care. yes, he hasn't been performing the way the team expected him to do so, but at the end of the day, he's still human and no one deserves that kind of treatment. rbr has been fucking over their drivers left and right and i absolutely despise that more teams are starting to do the same.

sending him out there to give interviews and answer questions about his own future in the sport, when he doesn't even know what it will be, is honestly the lowest of the low. they know exactly how nasty and rude f1 media is and a team putting their own driver in that position is something that should not be normalized. seeing his post race interview made my heart ache for him, he was literally a second away from crying then and there.

just as i've been upset about Nyk De Vries and Logan Sargeant being dropped in the same way, i feel the same for Daniel. it's not about whether you like a driver or not, it's about the principle. this is their dream, the thing they've been working for since they were literal toddlers and seeing it ripped away from them, without even giving them a proper shot is just inhumanely cruel.

i know that Daniel has been around for a while and he got to live his dream, but i still think it's unfair. rbr has been promising him this and that since he replaced De Vries last summer, just to (allegedly) drop him the next season with six more races left. even if they really want to replace him, then let him finish this season. he deserves that much.

i'm excited about the possibility of Liam finally getting a real shot, don't get me wrong and if he really ends up replacing Daniel, i'm happy for him, but i would like him to come into the sport under different circumstances. i also think that hating the driver who replaces another one, is pointless and frankly, stupid. this is not their decision, they obviously take the opportunity, cause getting into f1 is nearly impossible.

this is basically just to say that maybe we should remember from time to time, that they're not just athletes, but real people with feelings and we should always stay kind and compassionate. i've already seen so many hate posts about him, which shouldn't surprise me, but it did. this fandom likes to just jump on a person who's an easy target at the moment or pick and choose who they don't like at that time and all hell breaks loose.

the same thing happened when there were rumours about Daniel replacing Checo and all of a sudden, everyone had an issue with Checo's performance, him as a person, his actions and everyone thought that he deserved to be replaced. you don't have to like all of them, but at least be consistent with your opinions and know where the line is. you can't be upset about one driver being replaced mid-season, then turn around and wish that to happen to a different driver. that's hypocritical.