Psy vs. Psy

I genuinely think that if they were going to bring back any psych villian, Lindsay Leikin would pose the biggest threat. She knows Shawn isn’t psychic, she has adequate motivation to target him personally, and has the skills to prove he’s a fraud and do it slyly as she is also highly skilled in deductive reasoning (she did manage to get them to the counterfeiter to begin with so she has legitimate talent). She could even orchestrate it from prison. Maybe her parole was denied again so, like, what else is she going to do? Plus, she’s kind of nuts. Faking being a psychic with the FBI is a whole other level of bold compared to a local precinct, then she met a counterfeiter and was like yes please, more crime, then killed him when he tried to run, slept with Shawn that same night, then tried to take him hostage when she got caught. Its just a shame she wasn’t a bit more charismatic or eccentric. They had her play it as a very normal girl swept into a life of crime because of a guy (probably because she was a “love interest” for Shawn) when the receipts show she was an absolute lunatic (look at her face after they found the guy she killed. This bitch is smiling).

Also, she just kinda gave up when she was caught. I wish she’d have been screaming “he’s a fraud!” as she was taken to the car or even had a heart to heart moment with Lou Diamond Phillips because she did betray him after all. Idk, i just wanted more. (But i think maybe the writers recognized this and thats how we get Declan later??)

Gus is basically siri at this point. Between the archeology, safes, online poker, the law, tennis players, space, comic books, of course pharmaceuticals, and now studies tender from all over the world- its a smaller list of what Gus doesn’t know. Gus clearly likes learning. I’m surprised he never thought of becoming a teacher or college professor, to try to pass that love of learning to the next generation. Though i guess we see he’s not that great with people surprisingly, considering he’s a successful salesman. (OH MY GOD WHAT IF THIS WHOLE TIME GUS ACTUALLY HAD LIVED UP TO HIS POTENTIAL AND BECAME AN INTERNATIONAL SPY. He knows all these things because of his job, psychs only been able to stay open because Gus can fund it from his spy job, joining psych was a good front but he was also lonely from never getting to be himself. I kid, i kid, but its a fun idea for me haha)

No fucking way shawn doesn’t know what a drill is. Henry definitely would have beat that kind of man stuff into him. The military time too. I just felt the need to point this out. its like the show itself is dissing my boy and i have to defend him lol

I love when Gus is proud and smarmy over shawns talent. Look at his face here. My boy about to prove you wrong.

And do you think Shawn is actually afraid of competition or do you think he learned at an early age from his father that he didn’t have value unless he was the best? Huh Henry, huh???(Weekend warriors “you don’t want to be a loser” comes to mind)

Henry trying some reverse psychology here. I can’t tell if its because Henry is actually concerned for Shawns safety like he said he wasn’t in the previous episode, or if he’s still taking it personally that Shawns using the gifts he “gave” him to be psychic. Probably both. We know he was really bothered by his motorcycle accident, so i wonder if he’s been kind of spiraling, and adding up all the crazy situations he’s been in. (Which, i don’t think Shawn tells him about. i think Gus calls him like a weekly report haha) I think the fact that shawns cases are becoming more dangerous he suddenly doesn’t like the idea of him being a detective, well a detective this way at least, because i think in his mind he’d be safer if he was an actual cop where he had a partner with a gun, and back up, and rules, and training. I mean we know he wouldn’t be, (look at what happens to Lassie and Juliet)

I just wanted to gif this because it’s one of my fave jokes in the episode!

Mildred to the rescue! Im not entirely sure how this worked but it did and thats what matters haha

*Appropriate reaction is appropriate*

a book club AU where Every month, Morpheus and Hob attend the same book club and get into debates over the meaning of the book and every meeting turns into their personal vanity quest trying to impress the other with their wit.

And the other members dont mind because they just want them to kiss already because it is so clear Morpheus and Hob want to.

Amazing, incredible, revolutionary, I love it.

I’m imagining that Lucienne runs the book club and drags Dream along because he’s in his post-divorce emo era. Other club attendees include Matthew (showed up once to impress a girl, keeps coming back for the gossip), Gilbert (always makes everyone read G K Chesterton when it’s his turn to pick a book), Cori (local serial killer who reads crime novels for inspiration), Gault (Lucienne’s gf, there for emotional support reasons). Hob is a reasonably new member who just moved to the area.

Hob thinks Shakespeare is overrated, Dream hates “trashy” literature. They clash immediately. Hob calls Dream an elitist snob and Dream says that he’s proud to be a snob about literature, actually. They’re already secretly in love with each other.

The arguments are like foreplay. They sit opposite each other in the little circle of attendees and have the silliest little debates and arguments about the content of each book. Of course they don’t totally dominate the entire time, but everyone else is honestly looking forward to the inevitable cat fight + eye fucking sesh that is bound to happen at every meeting.

There is absolutely a betting pool going on where everyone has guessed when they’ll finally snap and make out in the middle of book club. And then Hob turns up in a suit (he apparently came straight over from an important meeting) and Dream’s jaw drops. He’s never been able to resist a well dressed man, and several months worth of sexual tension kind of… explode.

Lucienne happily pockets her winnings (she might have had something to do with Hob showing in the suit…). Honestly she deserves it, with all times that those two clowns have disrupted her book club!

First of all congratulations on your 1k 💕 Can I request for your event . Haechan + Enemies to lovers or fake dating ( up to you ) + prompt 2

Bet | Lee Haechan

Part of Tqmies 1K Event!

Enemies to lovers & fake dating au, 2. “Why are you mad?” “I’m not mad, I just think you can choose better people to kiss.” wc: 1.1k Note: i love haechan, i love that my followers love haechan too, now come here so i can give you a big smooch. & thank you <3

"No way." Haechan says, standing firm. "I won't do it."

"I'll pay you a hundred bucks."

"When do I start?"

"Wait, wait!" You interrupt, putting your hands between the two boys. One being Haechan, and the other being your best friend Mark. "I haven't even said anything yet."

"You don't need to baby." Haechan smirks, before swooning dramtically. "I know you're dying for a chance at me."

"I actually hate you." You deadpan but are ignored.

"Hate and love," Haechan sighs. "Such a thin line of difference, both feelings are so intense that you must get them confused."

"Get a load of Shakespeare over here." Jeno remarks, and you laugh.

"Quiet," Haechan bites back.

Mark looks over at you. "So what'll it be? Will you help me?"

Every bone in your body wants to refuse. But Mark's your best friend, and you sigh, knowing he would do it for you if you ever asked.

It just happened to be your luck that Haechan and you were the only free ones in your group. And single, meaning you'd have to pair up with Haechan. Well, Jeno was too but he was tied up for the night due to some baseball practice.

That left you and Haechan as the only ones able to attend this double blind date with Mark as support. And in all honesty, you thought his worry was stupid.

"Why do you need us to go again?" You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"It'd help me feel less nervous! And you guys are the only one's not busy tonight so-"

You sigh, "Whatever Mark, I'll do it."

"Oh thank goodness," Mark deflates. "I was so worried."

"Not doing this for you, I'm doing this for the check!" You elaborate, though Mark knows you're lying, curse your weakness for your best friend.

..

"Remember, you met in high school, Haechan confessed senior year and you’ve been together ever since.” Mark repeats, as you all sit in his car. He’s ran through the scenario like a teacher in front of pre-school children.

But you nod. "Got it."

"Yeah I got it after the first twelve times." Haechan crosses his arms as he wave's Mark off. "We'll be fine, you worry about your date, and let me worry about this freak over here."

"Oh shut up!" You retort. "You're lucky to even pretend you're on a date with someone like me."

Haechan scoffs, "Okay, if that makes you feel better."

As you open your mouth to speak, Mark stops you both, warning. "Guys, you two aren't acting like you're dating right now.."

"Haechan just can't admit that I'd be an amazing date."

"Sure, I bet being with me will be the best date you've been on."

"Bet?" You raise a brow. "You're on."

"Oh no, please no." Mark mutters to himself as you and Haechan exit the car. He might've bit off more than he could chew, you guys making bets was never good, ever the competitive ones.

Yet, he can say as the night progresses, that he's pleasantly surprised with you two's behavior. Of course, he's paying most attention to his date, but if he didn't notice then she definitely didn't.

You two are the most convincing fake couple ever, minus you two actually hating each others guts. Mark assumes its all fueled by competition, trying to butter the other up to get them to admit they'd be a good date. From the way Haechan pulled out your chair, to the way you diligently complimented his food choices, inflating his already huge ego.

And as weird as it feels, Mark has to admit he likes to see his two closest friends even getting along, but he really can’t complain.

“You two are adorable.” His date points out, and it’s the first time you’ve really looked at her tonight. Her eyes meet yours and something in her lights up. “Wait, I know you!”

You agree, though you can’t remember from where.

Unfortunately, she fills in the blanks for you. “You kissed Lee Jeno at that party a few weeks ago!“

Silence looms over the table as you can only hear the chattering of patrons around you.

You remember now, she must’ve been one the party goers at the recent frat party Jeno dragged you to. No one else wanted to go with him so he grabbed you off your couch on a Saturday and made you party with him.

It had ended in the two of you drunkenly making out on the frats couch, to which you had promised to never say a word about again.

"Oh yeah?" Haechan speaks up, shooting you a glare as he grits his teeth. "That's funny considering I mentioned we've been together for years."

Mark wants to die.

You laugh nervously, as the girl beside you two widens her eyes. "It was during our um.. break!"

Nice save, Mark thinks but then Haechan speaks up. "I don't remember us having a break."

The smile falls off of your face. "We broke up for during that one weekend, remember?"

"Oh my gosh, I must have the wrong girl. It probably wasn't you, no worries." Mark's date speaks as she tries to ease the tension.

"No need to lie." Haechan replies, raising his brows. Then he just shrugs, going back to his food. "I did a lot of things while we were on break too."

Mark wants to die, again.

Also, when the hell had you kissed Jeno? Like for real, that had actually happened?

You just quietly go back to your food, noting how the other couple's face's are hot red, Mark likely too scared to say anything. At least Haechan didn't rat you two out, though you're sure Mark's date knows now.

The rest of the date goes on pretty silently, save for small chatter from around you and the occasional comment from Mark.

You and Haechan exit the restaurant first, hoping Mark would gain the courage to ask his date on a second one, seeing as it seemed they got along pretty well despite the incident.

As soon as you're out of ear-shot, Haechan turns to you while crossing his arms. "You're the worst fake partner ever!"

"Me?" You ask, pointing into his chest. "I had the situation handled, and here you come with the 'we weren't on break!' Like would it have killed you to just agree?!"

"Whatever, I don't care." He responds, turning away from you.

Though you notice he seems bothered. "Jeno and I were drunk, if you're upset at him not telling you. it's not a big deal, I barely even remember."

"Why would I be upset?" He mocks.

"I don't know? You seem bothered!"

"Maybe I am."

You throw your hands up. "Well, why are you mad?"

He smirks at seeing you riled up. “I’m not mad, I just think you can choose better people to kiss.”

"Really, yeah?" You ridicule. "Like who? You?"

"Yeah." He says, nonchalantly. "Bet I'm a better kisser than him anyways."

"You bet?" You smirk.

"I bet, now wanna find out?"

hello! if your requests are open i’d like to req mysterion x fem!villain!reader (aka shes on Prof. Chaos’ side :D) and she’s like a little harley quinn with mysterion? like even tho she’s on the enemies side she’s so clingy and flirty with mysterion :) !! even when their in battle she’s always missing on purpose, and if her teammates call her out for it or anyone else she’ll jus be like “i could never 🤗! i hate the freedom pals!🥺”

headcanons would be nice if you wanna do them but if you wanna do a full fic im not stopping you! :3 (if you wanna make this nsfw age him up pleas 🙏❤️)

Superhuman Lovers Pt 2

ALL AGED UP CHARACTERS!! I age up in every fanfic/headcannons I write! So, I wrote something like this a few days ago, and it blew the fuck up!! So... this request is very similar, so why not have a part two,,, this one's just as steamy as last time, if you can believe that!! Warnings!! Angst, strong language, derogatory remarks/phrases, choking, no protection, intercourse. You can read Part 1 HERE!

Here you both stood, as Shakespeare once said, two star crossed lovers. You and Mysterion had been secretly dating for the past few months, and luckily for you both, the streets at South Park seemed a little safer, that was till a little chaos was caused.

You'd warned Kenny of the brutal attack, so Freedom Pals were well prepared, and as both teams stood face to face atop a high rise just outside South Park, the pale moonlight the only thing lighting the battleground. And you watched closely, your eyes fixing on your partner's.

You smirked, sending him a wink, and he had to act completely disgusted. People knew you were both very similar in personalities, so being flirty was nothing they found strange. "Freedom Pals! Time to meet your untimely demise!" Professor Chaos announced, as you all raised your weapons, flared up your powers and readied to enter battle.

"Let's go!" Toolshed shouted, both sides sprinting towards one another, and you were gunning for Mysterion, a smirk never breaking from your face, your body spinning before kicking your leg towards him, as he caught your foot in mid air, a smirk on his own face.

"Careful, baby. You could've hit me." Mysterion let a deep chuckle from his mouth, lifting you with your foot alone, to throw you over his shoulder onto your feet, and you landed, hands on the ground to stop yourself from falling.

"Oh so that's how we're gonna play it then, okay, have it your way." You spoke, lunging towards Mysterion, landing on his back, a smirk on your face, before whispering into his ear.

"Bet you can't wait to bend me over later, hm?" You knew this would make him weak at the knees. Mysterion was a man of many talents, and not much would budge him, he didn't have a kyptonite like all other hero's, that was until he met you, and as hard as he tried, he couldn't let the comment slide, a low chuckle escaping his parted lips.

Mysterion turned his head to smirk at you, gripping you by the waist from behind and flipping you over his head, as you landed on your feet.

"Don't try and fuck with me, Princess. Just cause you're horny doesn't mean I am. This is war." Kenny spat, and you knew he didn't mean a word of it, as the battle continued, you felt a presence grip you from behind, throwing you backwards onto your back, your body grimacing at the pain that began to spread, before you raised your head to see your attacker, you glanced to your side, seeing Mysterion laying in the same position as yourself, both your eyes meeting each other as you looked towards both groups, who stood united, with Eric and Butters at the front.

"So, what's this we're hearing about you both? That you're co-conspiring against us?" Eric began, a smirk upon his face.

"You both betrayed your cause!" Professor Chaos spat, the anger prominent on his enraged face. Both gangs glared daggers into you both, Kenny the first to stand to his feet, as you quickly followed, moving to his side. You had already spoken with Mysterion about what was to happen if your relationship was discovered, so neither of you were overly startled, it was bound to happen eventually.

"I can confirm that we are a couple. And if that simply isn't allowed, then I guess we're going to have to part ways with both groups." Mysterion spoke, moving to your side, wrapping a protective arm around you, a smirk on his face.

"No I'm afraid it simply isn't allowed, Mysterion. You must do the right thing and give her to us. You will be free from her dark seduction and able to meet your full superhero potential once more, without that succubus draining the life from you!" Eric shouted, and Kenny's grip on your waist tightened. Your blood boiled, humming in response to what was said.

"And are you sure you just don't want to for yourselves, Freedom Pals? I've seen the looks, I've heard the remarks about me you've all made. This is nothing to do with Mysterion and I dating and everything to do with pure green eyed jealously!" You spat, and Mysterion nodded in agreement.

"We're forming our own alliance. We're the best fighters from each group, you all know you don't stand a chance against us. So let us go freely, and no one gets hurt." Mysterion spoke, his hand behind his back, clutching to the fire crackers that hung from his belt, getting ready for you both to make a quick getaway.

And before anyone could speak he lit them, throwing him towards the group of fighters, as both of you sprinted, sliding down the drainpipe attached to the high up building, and making a getaway through the skinny allies, taking the backstreets all the way to Kenny's house.

And once you were in the safety of his bedroom, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist once more, a smirk firmly planted on his face.

"So, since I'm obviously the leader of our new group, I guess I'll have to get you to submit to me, hm?" He hummed, his hand coming up to trace along your jaw, and you leaned into his touch, his arm round your waist reaching to squeeze your ass cheek firmly.

"And who said I'm going to submit to you, Mysterion? You're good, and I'm bad, you gonna fuck the bad out of me then?" You spoke, and he hummed once more, a low chuckle escaping his chapped lips, eyes darkening.

"I'll fuck you till the only thing you can remember is my name, slut. And that's a promise." Kenny growled, pushing you backwards so you fell onto his bed, your arms pinned down above your head by your cocky boyfriend.

"You're obsessed with me~" You grinned, and Kenny knew you were right. He was drawn to everything about you, how pretty your face is, how soft your lips are, how your breasts fit perfectly in his hand,

"How could I not be! I mean, just look at you." Kenny swooned, before his lips met your neck, marking you up right down to your breasts, before he pulled away, a smirk on his face.

"Strip." Was all he said, and you knew to do as you were told. Kenny let go of your arms, pulling you up as you swapped places with him. He sat on the edge of the bed, and you slowly started undressing, as Kenny's eyes scanned your body the entire time, until you were stood completely exposed to him, the coldness of his bedroom giving you goosebumps.

And when you looked to Kenny, you saw him taking his mask off and pulling his hood from his head. That's when you moved, straddling his lap, a cheeky smirk on your own face, as you ground your hips down against him, earning a low groan from your partner, his eyes lidded.

"What a slut. So hungry for me aren't you?" Kenny grinned, his teeth catching his bottom lip, his hand coming up to massage your breast, while his mouth attached to your other, his tongue circling your nipple, earning a gasp from you, spurring him on further.

You could feel his hard cock pressing against you through his trousers, and god how you wanted him so badly, you knew you were bound to leave a wet patch on his clothes.

As if he'd read your mind Kenny pushed you off him, making quick work of the rest of his costume, flinging it to the floor, before cornering you against his bedroom wall, his hand reaching round your neck to pin you against it.

"I've been waiting for this feeling all day." Kenny whispered, lining himself up before pushing himself inside you, his free hand holding your thigh up to wrap your leg round his waist.

And he wasn't waiting for anyone, he was needy, and so were you, and he knew that. His thrusts were at a reasonable pace, his hand loosening its grip round your neck, letting the moans you'd been keeping in out of your now parted, swollen lips.

"Kenny! Fuck, I need more!" You moaned out, and Kenny knew you needed more, you liked it rough, animalistic, but only as your villain form, when you and Kenny had lazy morning sex it was slow and sensual and loving, but this, this was two enemies giving in to their sexual desires, and Kenny knew your body was his to do what he wanted to.

"How about this, slut?" Kenny hissed, his other hand lifting your other leg up, both legs now wrapped around his waist, his hands on your ass, holding you up against the wall, his pace quickening as he continued to fuck into you, your back arching and a symphony of moans leaving your mouth.

"So tight. Fuck." Kenny moaned, his hips snapping back and forth, driving himself into you faster and deeper each time, your head spinning and your moans becoming louder.

And when he felt your walls begin to tighten round him more and more, Kenny knew you were close. "P-Please, Mysterion, please. Can I come?" You just about managed, Kenny's thrusts keeping up their brutal pace, a smirk on his face as he moaned himself, you pussy tightening round him in all the right ways.

"Come for me, slut, scream my name." Kenny groaned, his grip on your ass tightening as he felt your walls tightening round him, your orgasm crashing over you, your back arched against the cold brick wall of his room, and your moans filling the bedroom, as you called out his name, your pussy pulsating round Kenny's throbbing cock.

"K-Kenny!" You practically shouted, and he knew he was going to come there and then, his thrusts becoming sloppy, pushing himself in to the hilt one final time, before spilling his load deep within you, your name spilling from his mouth over and over, calling out for you as you did for him.

Kenny pulled out of you, lowering your legs gently to put you down, both of you panting desperately for breath. And he threw you a towel he had brought into his bedroom earlier, because he knew this would happen, better to be prepared right?

Once you were both cleaned up and had finally caught your breaths, Kenny pulled you into bed beside him, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist and his head between your breasts, a sigh of content leaving his mouth.

You ran your hands through his messy hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, making him gaze up at you fondly.

"I love you, Y/N. How did I ever manage to pull a girl like you?" Kenny cooed, his eyes wide, and you swore you were lost in them, a small smile on your face, pressing your lips to Kenny's for a quick peck.

"I love you too, Kenny. And I'm the one that's lucky here, not only did I pull Kenny McCormick, but I pulled Mysterion too!" You said, making you both laugh.

"You certainly did, baby. You you'll have us both forever."

Even if Hob only appears in half an episode, I love how quickly we adopted some headcanons as a fandom, without questioning anything.

These include (but are not limited to):

Hob fucking hates Shakespeare, and rants about him in class.

His students definitely think he is a criptid.

While on that subject, he is an awesome teacher.

On the other hand, he's awful at the "changing names" part, so he uses some variation of Robert Gadling.

He calls Dream "his Stranger".

If we're talking about dreamling (we are), he calls Dream love or duck, sometimes without noticing he does it.

If he is in any position to give Dream clothes, you can bet that they are going to be black.

He would absolutely rescue Dream and Calliope.

He's buddies with Death and Matthew. If this is in the good omens universe, he's also Crowley's friend.

Eleanor Gadling was a role model for women everywhere (even taking in account the period in history that she lived) and Hob was whipped.

the situation on every app is so… poor Francesca for this entirely awful situation and i hope she has good support around her. because my god people are so evil and cruel.

and tom is getting latches too from every single fandom because he isn’t “speaking up for her” that he does the bare minimum about social activism and that so many other actors have spoken on when their co-stars get hated on. he is being compared to the pjo cast that was constantly defending annabeth’s casting, to tom blyth when he defended zegler from the hate train and so on… even Z fans are on it. people have this hate for tom for not reason… and it’s so exhausting.

i do feel like they should publicly support her, not just tom but the entire company behind the play but maybe they’re discussing it privately??

Wasn't the Percy Jackson fandom also dragging the actress? Cuz the people "crying" about Fran's casting are basically racist incels pretending to care about a Shakespeare's story, they don't even know it's not a movie. I don't know about this Rachel or what happened.

Maybe they're not aware of how bad it's getting now, maybe it was a mutual decision to just ignore, maybe he'll speak about it (not necessarily on social media, but in some interview, perhaps). We don't know, these people are not chronically online and eventually those incels will move on. Like I said, Tom has spoke about racism before, he made a whole fucking post defending those football players, when no one was asking him to do it. Twitter stans hate this man and they're just using this as another excuse to continue with their hate campaign against him. It's not even about a woman getting racist attacks anymore, it's about Tom not speaking, but how many of them are actually defending her? Reporting those tweets? I bet those tweets are still there.

Z fans love to claim Tom fans don't care when incels are being racist/misogynists towards her, but do they care? I've reported many racist tweets when they were comparing her to a monkey or calling her a man, and I never once saw any of those fans in the quotes or reply actually defending her. Also, isn't she not on a press tour right now? Do some of her fans think if they finally have some "proof" showing "Tom is not good person" she will leave him? ok.

What to do with Scott…

A question that many many Kimona enjoyers face in our time is thus: “where the hell do we put Scott Pilgrim?”

The guy is a weird case. He’s the main character, the damn series was named after him, he’s integral to the life and stories of both of these women. Although; he is also a massive cockblock (or vag block?? Idk) and must be obliterated in order for the two to be happy. So, to prevent Kimona fic writers (also known as the greatest and most noble heroes of our time) from needing to contend with this great query again, I shall compile a list of potential things you could do with Scott to get him the hell out of the way. In no particular order.

1. Break Scott and Ramona up

Probably the most direct and simple answer, especially if you’re going for a more cannon compliant, post cannon universe. Though it does kinda invalidate all of the shit they got through to get together if they just split up like that. So I suggest that if you do break them up, make it on good terms. Make it so that it’s mutual and mutually beneficial and mature. Less of a “I hate you and I never want to see you again” and more of a “it was fun, you helped me a lot, but now we gotta go our separate ways in life.” Their development shouldn’t be rendered moot by the breakup, instead make the breakup part of their development.

2. Create an AU where Scott does not exist

A fairly easy one, if Scott doesn’t exist, you can just go along your merry way with your shipping. Fics where Kim finds Ramona before Scott or fics where Scott doesn’t ever fall in love with Ramona for whatever reason also fall under this category. These are good, but a bit bland. There isn’t a great lot you can tell here cause Scott’s douchery kinda holds together the plot pretty much. It is only by him being a rat-ass fuckboy that anyone ever meets anyone in the comics. Also, without having her relationship with Scott, Ramona just doesn’t have her vital character arc that the relationship brings. She’s always gonna be the same ol Flowers when she comes to Kim.

So unless you plan on retelling the entire story of the… everything with Kim instead of Scott, you’ve gotta very flighty and traumatized Ramona Flowers on your hands for the entire fic. Now, this is perfect for angst fics, as using pre-arc flaws to create a tragedy has been a a tool for angst fics since god damn Shakespeare. Also fluff doesn’t really need the “primest character development” in order to be good, so if you’re planning to either make angst or simple fluff then AU is your best bet. If you wanna make something more cannon compliant or lighthearted yet complicated, you’re out of luck.

3. Polycule

Self explanatory. Why not have both? Keep Scott and Ramona’s cute dynamic; and just bring Kim into the mix. While this can be very fun (I’m actually writing a fic where this happens at the moment) it isn’t great for every fic. Cause let’s face it: if you’re here and queer for Kimona, so maybe you do not want to write for the feelings of the dude who got here first so he’s also tagging along. Some people just don’t wanna write Scott, which is perfectly valid. Also, polycules are messy and complicated, both in real life and in fic writing. While complications can create some good drama, it’s also a lot of moving parts to manage. You aren’t getting a Kimona + Pilgrim fic down to 2k words without sacrificing a lot. This one is not built for oneshots or general Pilgrim-haters.

4. Send him off to be with Wallace

Probably one of my favorite options to use. It’s kinda an extension of the “breakup” idea, but it gives a happier ending for Scott, as it lets the breakup make sense. Scott falls in love with Wallace and can’t bear the pining so he communicates with Ramona about it, and they mutually agree that it’s for the better for them to split so he can be with Wells. It also will keep the Scollace shippers at bay, may their apocalyptic wrath be kept at bay /s.

If you don’t really have much stuff outside of Kimona in your fic and don’t know how to get Scott out of the picture, try this one. Just throw in a sentence about Scott being with Wallace and everything will make sense and be chill. Truly an option for us lazy bitches out there who just want yuri. It can also potentially set up some Scollace content later down in the fic if it comes to be of a larger scale, but if you just want your yuri you can throw out a “Scott is with Wallace” line and not need to elaborate further, we get it. All around a flexible, powerful, potent, and fun option. Though if you have any Wallace pairings already set up in your fic and you can’t fit Scollace in, this option obviously won’t be that useful to you.

So…

That’s all of the “bye bye Scott pilgrim” tropes for Kimona fics that I could think of. Now for which one is the best… prepare yourself, the answer is disappointing.

None of them!

No one of these is always gonna work for everything. These tropes are all just tools in your toolbox at the end of the day, and which one you use is up to what you’re writing and how you’re feeling. So don’t be afraid to try multiple of these for your fics, throw shit against the wall like spaghetti. Maybe you’ll find something new that you’ll like.

But that’s enough yapping from me. Now go forth and WRITE!

Doing skin care together for Carrie(& or /)anyone because that is such a Carrie Prompt

Carrie hummed as she piled her hair into a messy bun, adjusting her headband afterwards and flicked on her ring light.

"Whatcha doing?"

Carrie turned and looked at Flynn and Julie who were smirking at her from the bathroom door. "If you must know I was going to give myself a spa day," she replied, tilting her nose up at them. "Do my nails, give myself a facial, all that fun stuff."

"Oooh, I could do with some pampering!" Julie squealed. "Can we join in?"

"or is more of a 'me' time?" Flynn asked. "Because if so we can skedaddle, we were just wondering if you wanted to watch a cheesy rom-com with us."

"We can do both," Julie offered. "You can even pick the movie as long as it's not She's All That again."

"10 Things I Hate About You?" Carrie asked, brandishing her tweezers in one hand and a bottle of nail polish in the other.

"Young Heath Ledger? Sign me up!" Julie exclaimed.

"I'm here for the Shakespeare adaptation and Allison Janney," Flynn interjected. "Also the mani."

So maybe this was not how Carrie pictured her day going, sitting with her expensive foaming charcoal mask on while Flynn painted her nails an electric pink and Julie recited along with Kat's famous monologue in the movie while plucking her brows.

But it was kinda nice.

They all switched places a few times, with Flynn opting for a sheet mask with a cute panda decal on it while Julie chose a peel off aloe and camomile mask. She was soaking her feet in Carrie' little foot bath while Flynn was debating polish colours.

"I kinda want to go orange, but that might seem too Halloweeny," she mused.

"What if we did an ombré effect with some yellow?' Carrie suggested.

"Oooh, mam likey," Flynn crooned. "Jules, what about you?"

Julie shrugged. "Figured i'd go with my standard purple."

Carrie and Flynn exchanged a look. "Girl, you can't be so afraid to break the mold every once in a while," Flynn replied.

Julie bit her bottom lip, looking at Carrie's vast array of polish colours. "Maybe that cherry red?"

"Perfect," Carrie said with a smirk. "I know someone who will love that you picked it too."

"Shut up!" Julie shrieked, but her blush said it all, and Carrie was willing to bet one of her dad's platinum albums that Reggie would sit up and take notice when Julie's nails matched his bass next band practice.

"I will not," Carrie retorted, sticking out her tongue, then squealed when Julie tossed a pillow at her from the couch. "Hey, watch it, this mask is horrendously hard to get out of fabric!" She then tapped her face, seemingly satisfied. "Mine's dry, I'm gonna go wash it off."

Flynn had long ago tossed her mask, and had her tongue stuck between her teeth as she slowly helped Julie peel hers off. "Sure thing Care Bear. You got toner and the like for after we get our nails done?"

"You know I do," Carrie said, rolling her eyes, but there was no bite to it. She'd already let them use her pricey cleanser, and Flynn had seen her large collection of skin care then.

Later, their faces clean, tones, moisturized, and glowing, they munched on popcorn, their now dry nails shining as Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts fell in love on the screen.

"This was nice," Carrie murmured. "Thanks for hanging with me today."

"We were here anyways since we stayed last night doing that stupid history paper," Flynn replied. "But thanks for leting us."

"Any time, we're always down for a girl's night, or a spa day," Julie offered. "Invite Kayla and the rest of the Candis if you want, we can have a real to do."

"Maybe warn me if you're inviting Kayla so I can make sure my braids are fresh," Flynn requested, blushing just a little, even if her obvious crush on the dancer could be seen from space.

"Will do," Carrie promised. "Especially since she asked me if she could 'tag along' to the next Phantoms practice you're attending."

Julie giggled at Flynn's increasing blush, the two of them teasing each other back and forth. Which, Carrie didn't really get, being pretty damn aroace, but she loved that her friends were happy and interested in good, kind people who liked them back.

Plus with them playfully bickering, it gave Carrie the chance to steal the last of the popcorn, and that was more than worth the counteracting effects it was surely having on her facial.

Hi! I seem to have rambled on to your blog

Weird question! How did you get into (if you ever did) examining and taking apart literature?

For us it's Merlin BBC cuz nothing new has come out for it in over a decade. It's 5 seasons long but at some point you just run out of content but yk, still wanting to talk about it we started drawing on narrative themes picking apart and inspecting the dialogue to figure out each character's intention. I'm glad to say it held up really well

& we're asking people whom have interacted with the degree that forces literature upon you how they started cuz it's interesting

On ask? On my main? It's more likely than you'd think--

Anyways, hi, love the snakes, love the planet, love the ask! It's unsurprisingly a little complicated for me, so bear with me.

I knew I liked English in middle school, but that wasn't dissecting text, that was writing. But that's where a love for language formed, and I started writing more and more. Back then, tho, I HATED dissecting literature, because it felt so pointless. "What did the author mean by this?" I don't know, I can't ask them, Margie! Ugh.

But then, I had the worst English teacher in my entire life in high school. She was, simply put, batshit. She rambled on and on about how fairies were going to take her soul and stole kids things, how cameras were the work of the devil and could also take your soul, how English would heal people's souls...

Really obsessed with souls ngl. Bit weird.

Anyways -- she was god awful. And she changed the curriculum multiple times so we could read what she wanted. The year I was supposed to read Romeo and Juliet, we read Midsummer Nights Dream instead. And by god, everything this woman said pissed me the fuck off. SHE FOCUSED ON THE IMABS? IMABIC PENTAMETERS???? I'm sorry, woman, can we discuss the puns here?! Can we discuss the authorial context of Shakespeare making this play within a play something commoners could enjoy while mocking nobility and the scandals at play, while (sorry, foaming at the mouth in rage and lust over literature).

Needless to say, I dove straight in. I'm one of the lucky ones who could understand Shakespeare without trying. It didn't take any energy on my part to parse the iambs, and I found a lot of beauty in the poetic nature of it all.

The next year, I was ready to fight, but I promptly had the best English teacher of my entire life, the one who taught me more about teaching than anyone else, and who I cite as the reason I became an English teacher. And she really fucking opened my eyes to the intricacies of subjectiveness in English. See, I'm a very stubborn person, and I'm very my-way-or-the-highway. I used to be very mathmatically inclined because there's only one right answer. Sure, you can get that answer a lot of different ways, but only one thing is right. English frustrated me because it seemed like I could say any fucking bullshit and have someone nod and say "Profound."

This is the teacher that taught me that's a feature, not a bug.

Through a little something called Waiting For Godot.

It is, by far, the worst play I've read. It's also my favorite. What sort of 10th grader gets to read an analysis of God that features pet play BDSM? THIS one. (This was also outside of the standard curriculum, but it was the end of the year, so all bets were off I guess).

This was the play where we dove in, read it, and without any discussion of the play, had to write an essay about the theme the author was presenting. All of us felt so lost. The symbolism didn't make any sense. There seemed to be no theme, beyond maybe "Waiting for someone who will never come is painful."

And then, the day before we had to write the essay... We had a substitute, following her lesson plans, and he was one of my favorite SEIAs (special ed instructional assistants). He was the exact same level of batshit as I am.

He SLAMMED his hand on the whiteboard, stared at us as we looked back in shock, and screamed, "ABORTION." He then went into a 40 minute diatribe about how the author of the text was very clearly explaining pro-life VS pro-choice mentality, leaning pro-life, but conversely making a pro-choice argument through the use of the discussion of Christian free will. He used sources. He used text evidence. By the end of the talk, all of us were nodding, clapping, acknowledging that he HAD to be correct!

And he stopped, stared at us, and laughed. "That was all bullshit."

He'd pulled it all out of his ass. And it made perfect sense to us all.

That's when I figured out that literature is what YOU make of it. Literature is all about interpretation; sure, there's tropes to follow that help guide our interpretations, but at the end of the day, words mean whatever you think they mean.

THAT'S what got me into lit analysis.

(And, oddly, homestuck)

Someone Else's Dream

The first thing Delta saw was the stage, and the second was the woman standing in a spotlight. A nice wooden dinner table set for four stood beside her; cheap ceramic plates ringed a basket of wax fruit. She wore a bright red dress and heels and a yellow apron. She waggled a slab of raw steak around as though she were tempting a dog while jabbering about… shit, he didn’t know, preservation or something. 

He was distracted by a creaking floorboard, then by a man’s cough. He heard the click of a lighter and looked up: past the spotlight, there were walls of glass, through which human shapes shifted. Someone was lighting a cigarette, the trembling flame gilding his cheeks.

Oh, I get it, Delta thought. It’s a dream.

Then the woman said, “Instant refrigeration!”

She flung the steak up toward the ceiling and snapped her fingers. Blue light flashed like a firework; a weird halo hazed her hair in neon blue. The steak spun down and she snatched it out of midair, then rapped the meat on the table.

Hard as a rock.

The crowd clapped.

“Food can be stored indefinitely,” she said, striding across the stage. “But what about last-minute guests?”

I’d tell them to get out of my house.

Spinning on her heel, she flung the steak at the table, whisking her hands back and snapping two fingers. This time, Delta could see her whole face light up. Her eyes flashed like twin torches, her fingers blazed up from her knuckles to her fingertips…

A burst of flame and smoke. With a sizzling hiss, the steak splattered on a plate. Pink spots splashed across the white tablecloth.

The crowd oohed.

She strode back to the table, arms thrown out as though to challenge the whole theater.

“With Incinerate, your meal is thawed, or even thoroughly cooked, in seconds.” She jammed a fork into the steak, sliced it with two neat sawing motions, and held it up to the light. It had been perfectly seared. She took a bite and hummed her approval.

“Truly,” she said, dabbing at her lips with a napkin, “what would life be without Fontaine Futuristics?”

“Not much, Mrs. Wright! Not much!” said a disembodied announcer in a peppy voice. “Give it up for Mrs. Wright, housewife extraordinaire, will you, folks?”

Mrs. Wright curtsied with a wink. The music swelled up; the crowd clapped, and somewhere, someone whistled. A couple of guys in uniforms walked out of the shadows, grabbed the table, and ran off stage. She followed them at a trot, breezing by Delta without looking at him.

I’ll bet I’m naked. God, I hate naked dreams.

“And without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” said the announcer. “I am most pleased to produce for you… Subject Delta of the Protector line!”

Applause exploded out of the darkness. Voices whooped. Someone started shouting: “DEL-TA! DEL-TA!”, and soon the whole crowd had picked up the refrain.

A man in a white coat stood next to Delta with his hand on his arm.

Where’d you come from?

“Delta,” he said, “would you please stand in the middle of the stage?”

Well, it was a dream, after all; dreams had dream logic. Delta lumbered out underneath the lights. So fucking heavy. He felt like his thoughts and feet were encased in cement and he couldn’t move his head very far from side to side. He glanced down.

Not naked. Just wearing deep-sea diving gear.

Oh, this was great. Too bad he couldn’t remember any Shakespeare.

The spotlights zipped across the room and focused on him. He swayed. The edges of the room disappeared in a wash of light, and he could no longer see the audience through the window. He was suddenly aware of how hot it was. He was fucking sweltering.

A voice grated through a speaker in his helmet.

“Steady, Delta,” said the man. “Steady.”

Shut up. I’m not a fucking dog.

“As all of you know,” the announcer said, “these are uncertain times.”

A door clanged open on Delta's right.

Delta whirled around. A man in prisoner’s fatigues sprang out of the darkness. His face was horribly distorted, riddled with tumors and scars and sores; his eyebrow drooped over one eye like stretched-out chewing gum.

He whipped out a rusty crowbar.

Holy fucking shit!

The announcer spoke on, his voice bizarrely upbeat. “Police are expensive. Spend hundreds per month just to visit your factory down in Neptune’s Bounty? Not anymore!”

Delta raised his arms and took a step back. He opened his mouth to say, “Get away from me!”

Instead, he woofed.

He woofed!

The fuck!

The prisoner gonged the crowbar against Delta’s helm. With a scream so inhuman he frightened himself, Delta punched. But when he swung his fist, it was like swinging a battering ram. He cracked the prisoner across the room and into a tangle of curtains.

The crowd howled with delight.

The announcer’s voice blazed out of the speakers.

“Protectors are cheap to maintain and nearly impossible to kill. The secret is twofold: their sturdy armored diving suits, which repel most ammunition, and Fontaine Futuristics’ Plasmid technology.”

It took Delta this long to realize that there was a huge drill on his arm—wait, when did they start putting drills on the arms of the suits? He didn’t remember ever training to use the thing, just seeing some guys in the field using it. When had they ever strapped the thing to their arms, anyway? It was hard enough to handle with two hands, goddamn!

The man lay sprawled on the stage not far away, blood pooling underneath him. The crowbar lay only a few feet away. He stretched out, coughing up red foam. His fingers grazed the weapon.

“Delta, would you please drill the prisoner?” said the voice on the radio.

Delta clenched down on the lever. Gears kicked and the drill roared to life.

He couldn’t stop his hand.

He couldn’t stop his hand!

The announcer spoke on, his voice chipper. He might have been advertising potato chips or introducing the latest teen pop wonder.

“When wounded, they regenerate within minutes to hours. With proper upkeep, they do not sleep. An added benefit: no speaking! This lot can’t tell your secrets to the little woman.”

Lazy laughter from the crowd.

Delta had started striding and he couldn’t stop. He wrapped his hand around the prisoner’s skull and lifted him effortlessly. Weakly-kicking legs dangled beneath him.

He had just lifted a whole man by his head. A whole fucking man!

Wake up! Wake up! Please!

For a moment, the two were face to face. The prisoner’s eyes rolled, white and rheumy. It was a face Delta knew from somewhere, he knew he knew it, fuck, what was his name, he had a name…

“Please, god, no!” said the man.

Wake up!

Delta punched the drill through the man’s ribcage. He couldn’t stop it. Oh, god! He couldn’t stop it! There was a horrible scream, a grinding sound, blood all over him… Christ, what was that on his face? His spleen? A liver chunk? A kidney?

The drill kicked like a mule and snapped the body in half.

Wait! Wait a minute! He was holding the drill with one hand! How was he holding it with one hand like that? He’d have to be some kind of superman!

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

He dropped the torso and it hit the ground with a wet thud. His fingers were numb. There was a sound coming out of his throat, deep and gravelly and nonsensical. He tried to form a word, but his tongue wouldn’t touch his teeth.

He had no tongue.

Oh, Jesus Christ, he had no tongue!

He whirled, screaming.

“Delta, would you please calm down.”

Wake up! Please, god, wake up!

But as though someone had hit a button, he wobbled to a stop and his throat closed up. Another door popped open, and another man in prisoners’ attire limped out, dragging an axe. His eyes were huge.

The announcer, cheerfully: “Protectors come with the latest in Plasmid technology, including Electro Bolt 3…”

Over the radio: “Would you please use Electro Bolt 3, Delta?”

Delta’s left hand rose mechanically—he could feel an electrical charge building up through his shoulder, down his arm, to his wrist—

He flung his hand up toward the ceiling. The shockwave blasted the curtains back and showered the stage with plaster. For a moment he stood there shivering with the power of Zeus on his palm, asbestos floating down like snow. Then he closed his hand into a fist, light crackling around his fingers, and backed across the stage.

The crowd roared.

“DEL-TA! DEL-TA! DEL-TA!”

“Look at that power!” said the announcer. “All in one convenient package. Other Plasmids include Incinerate 3, Winter Blast 3, and Telekinesis, all prepared with special attention to combat scenarios.” 

Radio-man groaned. “Would you please use Electro Bolt 3 on the prisoner, Delta. God, he’s off today.”

“That’s not good,” someone said. Their voice was faint. “Who has his dailies? Give it here.”

“Either someone fucked up or he’s building resistance again.”

Delta jabbed his finger at the prisoner and shocked him—just one long thin lance of light that zapped him and made all his hair stand up. The prisoner yipped and jumped back. A dark stain spread on his pants.

The audience laughed.

The radio crackled. “Oh, dear. He’s thinking again. Last time he started he killed ten people. We’d better dose him.”

“Now? But the investors…”

“Exactly, the investors. Don’t worry about it. It’ll only take one.”

One what? Who are you? Where is this?

The announcer’s voice burst out. “A special surprise! Here’s Dr. Alexander, lead developer on the Protector Program, and…” A pause. “His coworker!”

Dr. Alexander? Delta hated that name. Why did he hate that name?

A round-faced man in a white coat trotted onto the stage, accompanied by a young man who had tucked a sawed-off shotgun beneath his arm. The man with the axe hesitated on the edge of the stage, hugging the weapon like a life preserver.

Dr. Alexander—the white coat—had a mike in one hand and a syringe in the other. The needle caught the light like a silver thread.

“Today, we’d like to give you an extra little demonstration,” said Dr. Alexander. “We’ll show you how easy it is to modify your Protector. They have a small cap on the inside of the arm, which can be removed. Every Protector has a special tube inserted into a vein so that it’s easy to give him Plasmids and Gene Tonics. Remember that your Protector will need weekly doses to stay fit. Delta, would you please stand down? John, you take that convict over there. Just a convicted murderer, ladies and gentlemen, no harm done.”

Axe-man backed away as Shotgun-man lifted his weapon.

Delta stepped back.

“Delta, would you please hold still? Would you please hold your arm out for me?”

Delta wavered, but like clockwork, he raised his arm. Dr. Alexander only came up to his elbow. It didn’t seem right. He didn’t remember being so fucking big.

“As you can see,” Dr. Alexander said, “all you have to do is unscrew, remove the pad, and…” He raised the needle.

Another clicking sound—someone firing up a lighter. Delta twitched, glancing out into the crowd.

A man lit his cigarette. All Delta could see was his face, three quarters view. Crinkled eyes, a sardonic smile, glossy black hair swept back… he could almost hear him laughing.

The rage blinded him, it hit so hard. For a nanosecond, he could only see that man grinning down on him. He felt suddenly that he’d lived a lifetime hating him.

You.

Delta whirled ’round, sending Dr. Alexander sprawling.

“HRRROOO,” Delta said, slinging his arm up toward the crowd. “HRRROOOO!”

“Fuck!” said Shotgun-man and Axe-man at the same time.

Delta boomed off of the stage. In four steps, he’d crossed the divide. By the fifth, he’d jerked on the lever in the drill, and with an ungodly scream, he smashed it through the bullet-proof glass. The pane flashed opaque, spidered through with cracks. The audience shrieked, leaping to their feet. All Delta could see for a second was the cigarette man lifting his head, slightly puzzled; then the whole crowd had leaped to its feet and Delta couldn’t see the man anymore.

He couldn’t be far! He was in there, somewhere, and he couldn’t outrun Delta—not here, not now!

Someone had started screaming at him over the radio. Delta’s arms intermittently hitched mid-swing, but there was no room for magic words in the depths of his overwhelming rage. Delta smashed into the glass over and over and over. Big chunks crashed out onto the floor, and then he hooked the pane on the drill’s helical flighting and yanked the whole thing out of its frame, dashing it into pieces at his feet.

The doors at the far end of the auditorium were plugged up with indistinct human shapes.

He couldn’t get far.

Panting, Delta leaned over the divide between theater and auditorium and attempted to push himself up—but his knee wouldn’t bend far enough, and the suit was too heavy to lift. He felt a bump on his back, then someone kicking—and realized that Dr. Alexander had crawled up between the tanks. The announcer was saying, “Everyone file into the corridor, please, stay calm… everyone stay calm…”

Delta spun around. Needed something to stand on. Where was that fucking table?

He was halfway across the stage when he saw one of the big spotlights. He wrenched it out of the stage floor. His right hand was useless with the drill, but he could use it to hold the light steady.

“Distract him, distract him!” Dr. Alexander shouted.

“With what, Einstein?” said Shotgun-man.

Delta threw the light down in front of the stands and stepped on it. In a squeal of steel, it crunched underfoot. It still gave him about a foot of clearance. He jammed the drill down into the window-frame and tried to raise his foot again… fuck, too short, too short! And the theater was empty.

Oh, god, he was getting away!

“Delta, would you please stop!” Dr. Alexander shouted. “Delta, would you please stop!”

There was a squeaking sound as he twisted a valve.

Delta raced toward another spotlight. He yanked it out of the floor. The cords snapped. Electricity sizzled. Whirling, he rushed to the wall, stacked the second light on top of the first, then went for a third.

Was he imagining things, or was it getting harder to breathe?

Sucking air, he whirled ’round for his fourth light. This time, it took all his effort to jerk it out of the floor, and then he had to bend over his knees to catch his breath. He panted—his lungs ached—his faceplate fogged—he was seeing spots. He dragged the light to the pile—first in his arms, then finally dropping and dragging it behind him. The man was getting away. But Delta knew where he lived. Delta could find him. Delta just had to get out.

Delta dropped the light against its brethren. He struggled to lift his foot. All he managed was to scrape his boot forward. His vision smeared; his heart thudded in his ears. He slumped to the wall, then down on one knee. Dr. Alexander dropped off of his back and grabbed his arm, flipped it over, jerked the pad on the inside of his elbow, and thrust the syringe there.

“Grab me another vial,” he said to Shotgun-man. “I’ve cut off his oxygen for now, but I can’t leave it like that forever. Get the prisoner back into his holding cell! Now! Hurry!”

Cotton crept into Delta’s brain. The images faded away. The room was turning upside down. He toppled over slowly—onto his elbow—onto his shoulder—onto his side. He couldn’t stand and his head was throbbing. Dr. Alexander was saying something, but he didn’t understand it.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he was getting away, he was getting away.

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This Chapter on AO3

Deacon x Fem!Sole Survivor- abraxo baby

[[ This is a short drabble based on a prompt i’d seen of Sole being a pre-war actress, i fell in love with the idea tbh sORRY]]                                                          -- “Is that?-” Deacon’s voice suddenly cut through the silence they’d been walking in. Sole glanced in his direction, to see his head craned up at a billboard they were under. At first glance, it just seemed like an old Pre-War advertisement for Abraxo Cleaner, but she recognised her own figure on the board. Her heart raced slightly, seeing her own faded, and aged eyes staring back at her, but bigger than she ever would be. She was holding the blue box tightly, smiling brightly at the Commonwealth, just urging them to buy it to clean their clothes with. She could almost hear the RobCo representative repeatedly reassuring her that the advertisement would be gone by the end of the month, replaced by some new car ad. So much for that, you old bastard. Her heart panged at the window into the life she was trying to forget. “Nah, it’s my cousin.” She said, maybe a little too quickly because it had Deacon arch his brow in mild surprise at her bare-faced lie. He pondered it in silence for a moment, stopping a second too long for Sole’s liking, who turned on her heel and continued to walk in the direction of their original destination, leaving him in the dust. An amused expression played his features as he quickened his pace; just enough to catch up, but not to console her. To tease. “Cousin, huh? Just looks an awful lot like-” He started, but she hushed him, flapping her hand at him as if to waft him away. “That’s the thing about family, Deacon. Tend to look similar.” His amused mood turned downright gleeful, a shit-eating grin spread on his face at her deferral of him. “Ah, well, I worked with them, you know before the Great War? They had such strange demands; she couldn’t act without being covered in Sugar Bombs prio-” “ I wasn’t like that.” She said hotly, furious- head snapping to his direction to set him straight, before her heart stuttered. There was a silence between the two of them, Deacon’s teeth visible in his winsome grin; victorious in the knowledge he’d won. She stared at him incredulously, eyes slightly bulged in anger and shock, before she dissolved into an embarrassed quiet. He’d played her. He took the silence as they walked as her permission to ask about it.  “What was it like? Bet you got everything you ever wanted back then.” He wondered, and she just shook her head.  “I took whatever I could get, that being one of them.” She gestured to the billboard further down the road with a thumb. He mulled it over in his head, eyes scanning the horizon for hostiles as they travelled. He tried to concentrate on his surroundings, but couldn’t help but be drawn into the conversation. You can’t just dangle information like that in front of him and expect him not to ask questions.  “You ever did any Shakespeare? Bet you’d make a real solid Cleopatra.” His statement collected a laugh from his companion, who looked to him with mirth in her eyes.  “You saw an Abraxo ad, and went straight to Shakespeare? I was never that good. Besides, I swear Cleopatra was described as a snake.” He pursed his lips at her assessment.  “Not entirely. Good ole’ Cleo was described that way by the other jealous bitches, sure. But it only served to show how powerful she was. She was a great warrior; influential to boot, and a real good talker. Sound like anyone, Charmer?” She mulled it around for a second, before casting him a glance. “Not me, that’s for sure.” She quietened his thought process with the sobering comment. They continued to walk in the direction of the abandoned highway, although the comfortable silence they travelled in was a damn sight more awkward than before. Deacon wanted to bite his tongue off, coming on so strong like that. Sole had always been the one to stand off to the side; she hated compliments and any sort of recognition from anyone, no wonder she’d react like that. Well done, Deeks. Make your partner uncomfortable, why not? There was nothing to hit his ears now but the sound of their footsteps, muffled by the dusty ground beneath. He’d not meant for the current stand-off he’d created, he’d just wanted to be funny, compliment her a bit, but she’d gone off into her thousand-yard stare that signified her thoughts had gone back to 2077, and she was not in the here and now. He tightened his grip on his feelings, swallowing back the awkward tone from his voice. “Shame you can’t do that now, I bet the drinkin’ buddy you fixed up for the Rexford would look way sexier in an ad-campaign. I bet they’d put a feather boa on him.” He sniffed at the thought, and felt relief and the wry smile that shyly crept back onto her face. “What colour?” She prodded him, trying to picture it; and his own smile touched his lips. “I think a black, sparkly one would do the trick. Give him a sense of mystery.” A light laugh escaped from her, and he felt the tension completely dissipate. He could hardly believe his ears when she rewarded him with information. “I wore something similar for a television commercial; I think it was for this murder-mystery show? I played ‘Harlot #1′.” She chuckled, and his mouth gaped in shock. “They didn’t seriously name you guys ‘Harlots’, did they? That just smells of sexism.” She shrugged, stopping for a moment to take some purified water out of her bag, and cracking the can. She took a swig and offered him the can. He eyed her as he sipped at the water. “It was, but it was different back then. It’s better now.” He snorted at the irony, and passed her the can back so she could finish it. Only Sole could make that comparison. “I’ll amen to that particular line of thought.” He mused but tensed, alarmed when a noise bled through into his consciousness, and he sharply turned hand already on his gun. The ground rumbled, the earth splitting slightly in places, as if a great drill was running chasms in the dirt two feet below them. Sole already had her rifle trained on the area, lips pressed into a thin line and empty can of water abandoned on the floor. The noise eventually faded into a distant rumble, the cracks on the floor traveling in the opposite direction, and Deacon felt able to glance at his partner to check on her. She was frowning, hands slightly less tensed around the metal of her rifle. “Sounded big.” She simply whispered, and he nodded. He swallowed some particularly thick spit that had gathered in his mouth, heart pounding slightly. “Don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like sticking around to see if that thing has teeth.” He said dryly, and their happy air from before slipped away, replaced with the real dangers of the wasteland they’d chosen to ignore for their conversation. It was sobering and made him remember that there was no time for indulgent conversations anyway; anything he learnt about her that he liked would only serve as a painful nail in the coffin later on when their gig finally ended, if they could even reach the finish line. Their temporary joy had been enough for him to forget the smell of war, but it could never wash the blood from their hands. He felt like the situation had washed him clean, stripping away the sentiments they’d gained with each other. They kept their weapons out, unable to relax after their close and unsettling encounter. They returned to their silence, resuming walking down the abandoned road as the sun shone on above them. Life waited for no man. 

Hello Stanley Parable tumblr community.

I’m redoing all of my designs because the old ones didn’t make me as happy as I originally thought they did. So here’s the Curator, the Narrator, and the Timekeeper/Settings Person.

Stanley and Mariella are on their way. (They are rapidly approaching.

I wanted everyone to look human but then I got to TK and I lost track of what I was doing. I wanted him to look low-res so now they’re a crunchy image but also they don’t have an actual face and they wear sweatpants to work like an absolute animal they do not care for professionalism and employee 432 probably planks on top of desks to spite his employers.

On the subject of that head cannon time:

Curator:

• I like to think she’s got three museums. One being the one based on the Stanley Parable, one just for the buckets, and a third that’s more of a traditional real world museum that’s a mix of natural history and art (hello Blathers from animal crossing but with significantly less live animals.)

• She’s the type of person that is either super organized or has a bunch of things she definitely doesn’t need laying around. There could be an in between but I think it’s a one or the other kind of thing.

• if she did run her own parable (likely with Mariella as her protagonist) it’d be pretty similar to those children’s shows where they’ll adventure different time periods and art pieces. They always return home at the end of the day though[ :) ]. Also SM64 painting mechanic because the image of Mariella having to backflip into a painting is so phucking funny

•She gives off such big single mom energy.

Narrator:

•He will probably fight you at the mention of William Shakespeare. Not saying whether he’s for or against Shakespeare. He’s just very passionate about one or the other.

•Everyone in the parable places bets on how old he is simply because they can. He refuses to tell anyone, not because he’s insecure but because he thinks it’s funny watching them pull out the cork boards to figure it out.

•Probably thrives on chaos. Controlled chaos I should say (what do you think the parable is).

•This man probably had a fanfiction.net account at some point. There is no way his theatre kid ass didn’t write like Portal fanfiction or something.

432/TK/Settings Person (this motherphucker needs to pick a name dear gods):

•Like I said earlier this man lives to disrespect their surroundings.

•Lmao imagine not being allowed to do the one thing you were created to do and then you break into the void and gain the ability to alter certain aspects of reality-

•There they are officer! It’s the man who’s been stealing pencils from the office and breaking them just to sharpen them again!

•I refuse to believe this entity doesn’t have a fursona. It’s probably a cat. Or a dog. Or a cat-dog.

•Consider this: they can change the games lighting and music because they’re silly and wish to be dramatic.

•They hate Minecraft and that’s part of why it’s not in the ultra deluxe. Ridicule them for it.

Pale 10.a

“Three groups,” Horseman said.  The snow caught on his eyebrows, and his breath fogged.  “There’s the group responsible for the hillbilly truck out front.  Been here for a while.  Possible PMC.”

is he a Dog of War? One of John's old group?

“Yes, might have some PMC in them.  Yes, they’re yours.”

ah yeah, group of War Dogs incoming

“You got a last name now,” Horseman said, voice low, as he stepped close, his face inches from John’s.  “Good eyes, those.  Except they’re too sad to suit your old nickname though, Carnivore.”

the way that Dogs of War only gain selfhood (including a sense of morality) through more killing is sad and fucked up!

“You want mercy?  Anything but what you’ve got coming to you?  All pity choked with custom of fell deeds,” the POI said.

looked it up, and the bit in italics comes from the same Shakespeare speech as "Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war". And it is about war breaking out to a degree that all normal decency gets forgotten

“We’re you, your deeds made manifest, from the uncounted dead.”

metal line

John shook his head.  “According to the words he used, only a member of their family can bring back any of those four, and they’d still be bound.”

I wonder if John still has those tags in the present day? Could be worth a try to bring them back and contact the Leonard family to arrange favorable terms.

Songbird would be their official, unofficial commanding officer.  She would give them someone to spoil, would be one who cared from the outset, instead of picking up that caring from among a Dog’s scraps, like John had.  They had war as their starting point and built up from there.  She started from the sympathetic.

I hadn't put together before that part of why John's been such a good ally to the Kennet Trio is that he was built around protecting and following a young girl who was an innocent pushed into combat.

They wore bright colors, painted stalls and shops and had decorated the metal tiles with an irregular pattern of three stars, the eclipsed crescent, the sun, and the cross inside the circle to represent earth, painted in iridescent red.

I think this is John seeing the tiles as patterned rather than color-coded

It was hard to shake the mental image of Lucy’s face, that night he’d put a bullet into Alexander Belanger.  How small her shoulders had been.

:(

Lucy was talking back and forth with Verona, and John had a hard time dissociating her from the fresh mental image of Yalda.  Which was strange, because the two were so very different.  Yalda sang and Lucy listened.  Yalda had retreated into being a child and Lucy fought so hard to be like an adult.  Yalda had been bright and cheery, sympathetic and open, with moments of sadness, but she’d been dangerous, a killer even by accident, sowing wrongs wherever she went.  Lucy was tougher, more walled off, seemingly perpetually upset at things, but with moments of brightness like this one, here.  And as walled off or grim or serious as she might seem to be, Lucy had fought so hard against the wrongs of Alexander and Bristow, rallying others.

I hate Alexander so damn much right now for cutting this bond

A true end to the cycle of violence.  Being an actual dog would be nice.  Sitting in the sun.  Warm touches from family.  He could become human when he desired, and play his guitar, in a mediocre way.  He could sing songs he’d learned from Yalda, very poorly.  He could let his guard down.  He could rest.

John as an actual dog would be really nice

Nicolette put her hands over her ears, even though the sounds of the pipes and train whistle were dying down.

right, she'd also have Wolf trauma

“Are you sure?” Lucy asked.  “John?  This is dangerous.” “Tell me not to and I won’t,” he told her. “I don’t deserve that trust,” she said. “I don’t know enough about any of this.”

yeah, he's fully slotted Lucy in as his commanding officer

“Ropes and clocks, what else?” Verona asked.  “Nicolette!”

hey, that's two of the five objects! What do you want to bet that knife, coin, and skull would effect things? Actually, if clock controls movement timing, and rope I'm not entirely sure but is letting the wolf fuck with everyone, could each of these items be different exception/aspect of the rules of this place? With coin as the market stalls, and skull as the smiling Others? In which case knife is left to try now, and John seems well suited to that.

Knives cleaved closer to connections, to Self, to personal power.  Momentum and physics didn’t always matter, and to many, a bullet was simply a smaller amount of metal than a knife or sword, with less meaning and history ascribed to it.

an elegant weapon!

He would have seen the goblin, the Faerie warrior, the burning ghost-spirit, Miss, and the practitioners Matthew Moss and Charles Abrams.

which makes all of these suspects, since they were around for Yalda's death after which the Choir was made. I wonder which goblin?

“Infants quartered with the hands of war,” the Wolf told John, catching his wrist.

also a quote from that Shakespeare passage

Timepiece for Time, cable for the threads of Fate.  The edge…

I was right about the theming! Wrong about the particulars though it looks

“Don’t hold anything back,” he whispered.  “It’s not as if I’ll need to draw on you again past this summer.”

:(

God I hope John makes it. I think he'd be a good Carmine Judge.

“This is what you are.  Either you’ll be a sacrifice, or you’ll perpetuate the cycle of violence and loss.  Whichever you do, whatever you do to those girls, they’ll cry and they’ll lose more innocence, more childhood.  The closer you are to them, the more it will take from them to lose you.”

I think that is going to happen to the girls regardless

But he couldn’t tie her to him when there was a very real chance that he could pull the trigger one day and see that expression on her face again, that he could pull the trigger at some point and not see that expression, because he’d allowed his presence and violence to change her like he’d allowed it to change Yalda, or the look on her face at the end of that road, when he had to shoot her because of what she’d become.

I think all the various types of Black Dogs are tied to conflict, so Yalda would have ended up there regardless of John. But on a subconscious level I don't think his presence as a Dog of War is what he is blaming: rather, the actions of the soldiers from whom he exists, taken on a civilian population from whom in turn Yalda as a Famine Dog was born

Okay I'm here after reading all the hwa ffs in less than a month (talent ladies). So, I'm going to review it. Although, ik everyone already knows how perfect those ffs are but hey.

1. Bodygaurd

Accidentally tumbled upon this and I'm glad I did. I mean it's been so much time I've spent on Tumblr and then this shows like a miracle. So, OHMYGOD PARK SEONGHWA IN A SUIT AND GLASSES , READY TO SHOOT SOMEONE WHO COMES NEAR ME?!?! Perfect. The story was so well-planned and i like how even though y/n had grown up through so many hurdles she still was so cheerful and bubbly and not all emo and depressed. Ok i get if some fic writers do it in a few of their fic i get it, sometimes the mc has to have some issues BUT I'm tired of it. Really. I'm trying to escape this reality to somewhere where I can be someone i very much aspire to be and not to be depressed which I practically I am irl so ...yeah 😃. Oh and tears. I did tell u i cried and i was not joking.

2. Just friends

You knew ... you knew what you were doing when you wrote that and how much of an impact it would have on us. I can literally hear that one tiktok sound that goes "the hOe$ gonna love this..." AND I BET THATS WHAT WENT THROUGH YOUR HEAD. But let be real tho, this fic was everything. When the fashion world gets involved with love and Seonghwa?!?! Masterpiece. Shakespeare could never. Plus the clothes inspo?!? This was one of the fic i could actually visualise yk?

3. Rewrite the stars

These types of tropes are basically what I live for. Its like you know you have limited time, you can't fall in love, you mustn't but...oh well look at how the sun shines on his face as he gives his million dollar smile. I think it'd be fine to fall in love. Even if it's just for a few days. Maybe just for tonight.

*kickin the air and rolling in my bed* OH AND BUDAPEST??? 🫠🫠

4. The Duke and his general

Its a classic.

I thought.

But oh boy was i wrong. First of all the simplicity of the fic..and the classic trope but then you get to the plot and then boom! Its like i kind of have gotten used to the whole meet -> fall in love -> get heart broken -> finally together.

And honestly I'm glad I saw the fic after they'd already been written completely because lord knows what I would've done with the whole amount of curiosity after every part.

5. Mr and Mrs Park

Holy oompa loompas THIS!!! THIS IS WHAT WE CALL 'INSPIRATION'!! Ykw...i don't even have words. The last scene at the beach tho. Chills literal ✨chills✨. And the whole loop that starts from the 'A. You messed up' and it ended on the same line but obviously now it had a diff. Meaning. And ong I can never look at a person named 'nayoung' the same.

6. Khronos

No words.Just tears and trauma.

7. The trouble with hating you

Again, the trope was simple. And oh we have seen it in so many movies and dramas about this. BUT yet again you sprinkled it with your own touch. Idk how you do it but when I read your fic i actually transform into yn. I am the real yn when I'm so into reading those lines and talking to air that my family becomes concerned but do i care?...no. and that's what we need in a story! I really hated hwa here tho. HOW COULD YOU?? But hey, yn's got charms 😏

8. Lets not fall in love, again

This was so hurtful. Because, i did not know people getting divorced felt like that. See? That's how you elucidate the feelings. When you're single asf but you still feel the pain of getting seperated from a man who has no idea you exist. Yes. I also recently realised that you have kind of a lot going on. Which again! Intersting.

At first, i was so mad at hwa at the start of the fic i was like wth did I even do. Turns out....he just did it out of love 😭. So pure.

Basically you have the best ffs I have read so far. 🙌🙌

o my god i am actually screaming

1. bodyguard : Accidentally tumbled upon this and I'm glad I did. I mean it's been so much time I've spent on Tumblr and then this shows like a miracle. So, OHMYGOD PARK SEONGHWA IN A SUIT AND GLASSES, READY TO SHOOT SOMEONE WHO COMES NEAR ME?!?! Perfect. The story was so well-planned and i like how even though y/n had grown up through so many hurdles she still was so cheerful and bubbly and not all emo and depressed. Ok i get if some fic writers do it in a few of their fic i get it, sometimes the mc has to have some issues BUT I'm tired of it. Really. I'm trying to escape this reality to somewhere where I can be someone i very much aspire to be and not to be depressed which I practically I am irl so ..yeah g. On and tears. I did tell u i cried and i was not joking.

DBWNDJWKDHWKHEKW IM CRYING UR SO SWEET FOR THIS REVIEW IM ACTUALLY GONNA SOB BFMWDH no bc ur so right on that part like why do all the yn’s gotta be depressed, let’s make the guy depressed 🤚🏻 u are so right on that last part 100% !!!

2. just friends : You knew ... you knew what you were doing when you wrote that and how much of an impact it would have on us. I can literally hear that one tiktok sound that goes "the hOe$ gonna love this... AND I BET THATS WHAT WENT THROUGH YOUR HEAD. But let be real tho, this fic was everything. When the fashion world gets involved with love and Seonghwa?!?! Masterpiece. Shakespeare could never. Plus the clothes inspo?!? This was one of the fic i could actually visualise yk?

THE WAY I FUCKING GASPED AT THE MEME JFBWKCJSKD I KNEW THIS WAS COMING 😭😭😭😭😭 o i did EXACTLY THAT 🥰🥰 i knew how nasty this fic would be and what the reaction will be, two top models and enemies??? sign me up! this fic was my fashion résumé actually <3 RIGHT I LOVED WRITING THE PHYSICAL PHOTOSHOOT ITSELF

3. rewrite the stars : These types of tropes are basically what I live for. Its like you know you have limited time, you can't fall in love, you mustn't but…oh well look at how the sun shines on his face as he gives his million dollar smile. I think it'd be fine to fall in love. Even if it's just for a few days. Maybe just for tonight. *kickin the air and rolling in my bed* OH AND BUDAPEST??? 🫠🫠

no ur so right, these travelling romances are the >>>> top tier of any tier,, the thrill of romance & the separation 😮‍💨😮‍💨 OH MY GOD IM GONNA STEAL THAT PARAGRAPH MISS CHAERSSSS !!!!! U MAD EMT MIND GO BRRR WITH THAT & yes budapest <3 im absolutely in love w that city, was debating on italy but miss budapest got me

4. the uke and his general : Its a classic. I thought. But oh boy was i wrong. First of all the simplicity of the fic..and the classic trope but then you get to the plot and then boom! Its like i kind of have gotten used to the whole meet - fall in love - get heart broken -> finally together. And honestly I'm glad I saw the fic after they'd already been written completely because lord knows what I would've done with the whole amount of curiosity after every part.

FBWKDHSK U FOUND MY FORMULA AND I WILL USE EVERY BIT OF IT! ahhh ur right, a simple fic turned out to be so big it amazes me! it really was a craze the curiosity and excitement when i first released it, the anons attacking hwa during that time in the fic amazing ✊🏻

5. mr and mrs park : Holy oompa loompas THIS!!! THIS IS WHAT WE CALL 'INSPIRATION'!! Ykw... don't even have words. The last scene at the beach tho. Chills literal ✨ chills. ✨ And the whole loop that starts from the 'A. You messed up' and it ended on the same line but obviously now it had a diff. Meaning. And ong I can never look at a person named 'nayoung' the same.

FBWKDHWK THE SCENE WHERE “come to daddy” *beats the shit out him* “who’s your daddy now” IM FJWKHD 🤲🏻🤲🏻 nayoung will make a return in this blog again in that yunho fic <3

6. khronos : No words. Just tears and trauma.

7. the trouble with hating you : Again, the trope was simple. And oh we have seen it in so many movies and dramas about this. BUT yet again you sprinkled it with your own touch. Idk how you do it but when I read your fic i actually transform into yn. I am the real yn when I'm so into reading those lines and talking to air that my family becomes concerned but do i care?...no. and that's what we need in a story! I really hated hwa here tho. HOW COULD YOU?? But hey, yn's got charms

DBQNJDKWHDKW IM SO GLAD ITS READ LIKE THIS, TEARS IN MY EYES these are the biggest compliments ever 😭😭😭😭 HEY ITS ALL ATEEZ’S FAULT IN THAT OKAYF HWJDHEJ

8. lets not fall in love, again : This was so hurtful. Because, i did not know people getting divorced felt like that. See? That's how you elucidate the feelings. When you're single asf but you still feel the pain of getting seperated from a man who has no idea you exist. Yes. I also recently realised that you have kind of a lot going on. Which again! Intersting. At first, i was so mad at hwa at the start of the fic i was like wth did I even do. Turns out....he just did it out of love 😭. So pure. Basically you have the best ffs I have read so far.

this is the best description of that fic, he did out of love 😭😭😭 THANK YOU SO MUCH !!!! ALL OF THIS HAS MADE MY ENTIRE YEAR IM GONNA BE SAVING THIS WHEN I NEED TO SMILE STOP IT THIS IS SO NICE FBNWDJKW 😭😭😭😭

so you genuinely believe that if tae wanted a beard he would pick/agree for it to be jennie out of all the idols he could've went with? jennie, whose fandom hates his guts and always the most vile shit about him and his grandma? the jennie whose guts armys hate and are almost always responsible for every viral hate video about her either calling her lazy or making fun of her dancing? i mean armys literally became even more hateful to her after the paris walk and her show.

he could've went with an idol or an actress that armys don't hate to avoid backlash and still had an effective beard.

and if he picked a popular idol with a big fan base so she has loyal ppl defending her from the hate then he failed miserably because armys are bigger than blinks and the hate towards jennie doubled bc of that mess of a show she did. and if the deal was for two-way promo and a beard then where is taehyung's promo? i don't think he needs promo from jennie's fandom at all and it's even disrespectful to think tae would try to use his own antis for promo when he already has armys behind him.

this whole notion of taennie being pr makes no sense bc it literally just seems like they both are dating their fandoms' rivals and didn't want their fans to know, then they were seen by a local, then a hacker leaked their pics and tried to forcibly out them, the matching accessories weren't something they did on purpose to try to signal that they're dating, they just did it. idols get linked by outfits all the time so they figured it's not that big of a deal and isn't an obvious declaration of anything. then they gave up since ppl knew already and walked in paris with no care to be lowkey, but the reactions were outrageous so they went back into hiding, removed the matching stuff etc. their fans' reactions (esp army) are what spooked them (esp tae) but overall it definitely doesn't look like a fake relationship

Hi anon!

Well, this is very star-crossed-lovers-romeo-and-juliet of you.

Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Seoul, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

While I can appreciate a bit of Shakespeare, this is not that, though I bet they love the plot. Tae and Jennie together is a pr manager’s dream. The whole thing basically takes care of itself. It’s cheap, it’s low maintenance, it costs very little actual effort and it will keep people talking for months… years possibly. See, it’s not necessarily about what fandom thinks about it. While it’s probably great they are getting this attention from everywhere, the aim is for both Tae and Jennie to enlarge their fanbases. They want more fans. Putting them together will mean some blinks become Tae fans and vice versa. A pairing of their combined fame though, most certainly also reaches audiences that hadn’t paid much attention to either BTS or BlackPink yet. But a food love story between the prince and princess of Kpop (are they?) will absolutely lure in new fans. And that is how it aids both Tae and Jennie. They have already concurred South Korea, there’s little left for them there.. this is for other audiences. They don’t need pr in Sk, they need it outside of SK. Tae’s album sales will definitely be influenced by this. So many Taennie’s who were only blinks before are going to buy his album, because they will link it to Jennie.

Tae did not choose Jennie for this. Their teams set this up and they only had to agree. Hate is a thing Jennie and Tae always have to deal with. This is just another thing to add. In business emotions don’t play a big part.

What I have been considering since this afternoon though, is that maybe.. maybe… very maybe.. Paris was some sort of test. Maybe they did see the backlash (and the bad critiques from The Idol) and they decided.. nope, not what we wanted out of this. Maybe they did decide against going through with it and that is why things seem.. stagnant?

What would a fake relationship look like according to you though. If you were to plan a fake relationship between two idols, and you had to make it look real.. while also adhering to Sk standards, how would you achieve that? How would you sett up a believable pr stunt. What clues would you leave, and how would you leave them?

star crossed lovers | connor bedard x oc hughes au! ↳ soft launch. (insta post) ↳ circa feburary 2025. (after first reconciliation and before 2nd breakup) ↳ au masterlist!

@/kailey.hughes: a heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee 305.8k likes, 21.5k comments. +brendanbrisson, alexturcottee & nicohischier have liked. ||

@/trevorzegras: pack it up shakespeare ↳ @/kailey.hughes: hush now

@/quinnhughes: so happy for you two! ↳ @/kailey.hughes: love u quinnie !

@/jackhughes: eh ↳ @/kailey.hughes: ur eh

@/lukehughes: didn't sign up for this when i joined insta ↳ @/dylan.duke: me neither ↳ @/ethanedwards: idk what yall are on, but its cute ↳ @/kailey.hughes: thanku eth!!!! i knew i liked u ↳ @/dylan.duke: wait what ??? ↳ @/kailey.huhges: i despise u dukerrrrrrrr ↳ @/ethanedards: hell yeah im the fav (: ↳ @/rutger.mcgroarty: cant forget me about ↳ @/kailey.hughes: twin !!!!! ↳ @/lukehughes: i hate you all

@/alexvlasic: the world has returned to normal ↳ @/tessamurpy: no fr

@/beccamonroe: cutie pies ↳ @/lukasreichel: disgusting ↳ @/kailey.hughes: watch is reichs

@/kent.johnson: oh thank the lord ↳ @/adamfanilliti: this ↳ @/masonmctavish: i thought one of us was going to spill ↳ @/kailey.hughes: that was my fear too!

@/connorbedard: 🤍 ↳ @/kailey.hughes: love u to bunches!

@/connorbedard: life's pretty rad 276k likes, 34.5k comments. ||

@/fan1: no way this isnt kailey hughes ↳ @/fan2: no fr it has to ↳ @/fan3: nahhhh he;s too good for her ↳ @/fan2: nah shes too good for him

@/kent.johnson: crisp ↳ @/masonmctavish: stud ↳ @/adamfantilli: simp

@/madisenbedard: love you two! ↳ @/kailey.hughes: love you more!!! ↳ @/connorbedard: thanks mad!

@/chicagoblackhawks: our fav couple!!! ↳ @/kailey.hughes: love you guys!!

@/philipkurashev: @/lukasreichel: you owe me $25 ↳ @/lukasreichel: don't remind me ↳ @/kailey.hughes: bets? fr ?? ↳ @/beccamonroe: don't even get me started on their tomfoolery ↳ @/phillipkurashev: BECCA ↳ @/kailey.hughes: no please spill

@/kailey.hughes: love you 5 ever ↳ @/connorbedard: love you more 🫶🏻

hope you all enjoyed! pls like and reblog if you did (: