#and in a relationship with anyone of your choice

[fortunxa]

── .✦ H E A D C A N O N #4

Jinx likes to record your intimate moments.

#cw. Jinx x fem!reader (established relationship), recording kink, voyeurism, masturbation (implied), vulnerability/soft!Jinx, praise. mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ

Jinx masterlist ⭑.ᐟ

Jinx doesn’t just fuck you—she documents you. Like a little project. Like a perverted art piece she’s building one moan at a time. She’s shameless about it, too. No warning, no asking, just a low “Keep going, baby,” as the shutter sound clicks and your naked body flashes across her phone screen.

She loves catching you mid-moan, mouth open, eyes half-rolled, fingers digging into the sheets. Sometimes, it’s her hand between your legs. Sometimes, it’s her strap buried deep inside you, camera in one hand, the other pulling your hair back so she can capture the way your face contorts when you’re taking all of her. “Smile for me,” she murmurs, voice hoarse, soaked in lust. “Just for a second, baby.”

And she records on anything. Whatever’s closest. Phone when she’s impatient, camcorder when she wants to savor it—the one she thrifted and makes everything look like a cursed VHS from 2004.

You had laughed the first time she brought it to bed, teasing her like it was just another one of her chaotic whims, but Jinx had been serious. “Let me show you how I see you,” she said.

That is how it began.

Now, it’s ritual.

Jinx likes to play director. Not in a bossy way—okay, maybe a little—but in that obsessive, breathless way she does everything. She likes controlling the angles, the lighting, the timing. She likes watching you fall apart frame by frame, pixel by pixel.

Big red record button, mounted on a makeshift tripod. She takes her time, makes you stay still while she adjusts the frame, gives you little teasing commands—“Arch more, baby—yeah, like that. Show the camera what I do to you.”

She always starts with a soft purr: “Don’t mind the red light, baby—just wanna keep you forever.” Then she whispers in your ear, breath hot and full of wicked delight, “Say hi to the camera, sweetheart.” And when you hide your face, flushed and wrecked, she just giggles and coos, “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed. Don’t worry, it’s just for me.”

Sometimes it’s messy—rushed, breathless, the tripod askew because Jinx couldn’t wait. Other times she sets everything up like a scene: candles, her little speaker playing something low and sultry, you spread out on her sheets while she zooms in on every inch of you she loves. She bites her lip while watching you through the viewfinder—softly praising, perving, worshipping.

Sometimes, she turns the lens on herself, too. She likes the way her pupils blow wide when your lips trace her stomach, how her hips arch into the frame. She likes the tension in her jaw, the twitch of her smile when you make her moan. She likes remembering. Replaying. Reliving.

Jinx never trusted her memory.

Feelings slip through her fingers too fast—like static, like smoke. One second she’s shaking in your arms, full and fucked and floating, and the next, it’s gone. Nothing but skin cooling too fast and a brain already racing somewhere else. But when she films, she can trap it. Every twitch. Every gasp. Every second. It’s more than sex or porn. It’s proof—proof that it happened, that she’d been wanted that much, touched that deep, fucked so thoroughly her brain had no choice but to shut up and let her feel.

Proof you’ll never be this for anyone else.

Proof you were hers.

Proof you still are.

And she thinks, God, that’s me. That’s mine. That happened. It’s real. It’s something she can own, even if it’s something as stupid as underwear reviews.

Afterwards, she pulls you into her lap, arms wrapped tight while the tape plays in the background. You cringe, hiding in her neck, but she’s grinning like the devil. “Look how good you look. Look how pretty you are when you’re mine.”

She never posts them, never shares them, doesn’t even brag. The tapes are sacred—hers to rewatch when she’s lonely, or aching, or just too obsessed with the way your body reacts to her touch. And you let her—over and over again—not because you love the camera, but because you love the look in her eyes when she sees you through it. Like you’re art. Like you’re home.

She keeps the files hidden on her phone, named in codes only she understands—timestamps and inside jokes, raw footage labeled like artwork.

“blue_wreckage03.mp4”

“babyXme_4am_fuck.mp4”

“2idiots_in_lust.mp4”

“gigglefuck_006.mp4”

She burns DVDs, too. Actual DVDs. She’s got a whole collection—organized and color-coded. She takes the time to make ugly little covers for them with hearts and sharpies, doodles of your face and stupid titles like:

“Vol.7: She’s So Fucking Loud <3”

“Crybaby’s First Time”

“Shy Girl Gets Loud”

“Mine. Mine. Mine (Extended Version)”

She plays them for you on lazy afternoons, projecting the image onto the wall, her fingers between your legs while your recorded moans mix with the real ones. “Fuck, look at you,” she breathes. “You’re my favorite movie, y’know that?” Sometimes, you catch her rewatching them when she thinks you’re asleep. Phone brightness low, her other hand idly stroking herself, mouthing your name like a prayer.

She does it not only because she’s obsessed, but because in her glitchy, lust-drenched archive of you, she feels closest to heaven.

🤍 art bonus by @jinxsdoll !!

full drabble/fic incoming :3

[thedivinetarot]

Nobody's son, Nobody's Daughter

Does your future spouse feel your energy?

☆ How to chose your pile? 🕯📜🗝🦪

☆ Disclaimer:

This is a general reading so take what resonates and leave what doesn't, if you need to know whether they feel it or not DM for in depth reading🤍. This is for people who want a sign or are manifesting their fs. Again, don't hang your whole life on your spouse, they will come in the divine timing.

☆ Note:

I'm back as I promised dears. And I have an important announcement. I started Ko-Fi account and joining is totally free for everybody. If you'd like to support me here is the link, no pressure on donations.

Lots of love💕

Arya

Pile 1 - Garden 🌿

🤍 Do they feel your energy?

Yes but you guys are hidden from each other lol. This person (regardless of their gender) is out there but you can't SEE them and they can't SEE you. I see that there's emotional charge here. Perhaps you two feel the same things in the same time or have the same emotional capacity and emotional maturity. I see distance, you guys have a distance between you and them. This person is far away yet you two are on the same emotional wavelength. This person might either be your age or a little older, perhaps 3-6 years older. They are coming into your life but first you have to finish a karmic cycle or change your location or after deep transformation. Perhaps when you meet them you'll be relocating from your parent's house into another city for work or study. This person might also be someone that you cut off, or blocked or might be someone who is finishing a huge chapter in their life. I see that they are working on their confidence and building healthy emotional regulation. There’s a choice that should be made before you two meet. I see that you two are in your own shell and the world is just "world-ing" around you. There's emotional independence here and both of you seems to not focus on dating or relationships but they feel the same way you feel and your lives are quite in sync with one another. That's what I'm seeing, thank you for reading this🤍 and take care💕.

♡ Placements for you:

Scorpio, Gemini, Virgo, Cancer, Taurus, Dominant planets in moon, neptune, Mercury. Sun or moon in the 8th, 3rd, 6th, 4th, and 2nd house in the chart.

Pile 2 - Girl with candle🕯

🤍 Do they feel your energy?

Short answer yes, but they are someone you know from the past (if youdon’t have anyone in mind then it might be a potential soulmate). I see that there's always an exchange of energy between you and this person. I see that you are focusing on yourself and your own business in the material world but you have a strong etheric cord between you two. Perhaps this person is stalking you energetically, thinking of you. Wishing they could come forward and express their feelings but there’s something stopping them. Perhaps the divine and Perhaps their own circumstances. Now I'm not saying you should run back to them because they are like that. Be more discerning and take care of yourself. If this is a toxic person or emotionally distant one it's not something you want to revisit and relive again. What is interesting is that this person and you have finished a karmic cycle but they can't freaking let go. They are like an energetic parasite that is lurking in the shadows. You keep them up at night and they keep overthinking of "what if" and "what could've been". There’s a distance between you and this person too. This person sees potential but... they know that you'll probably not approve of them again if they come in. I see that you have recovered from your rejection wound. Someone here, either you or them have a rejection wound and you had to recover after this situation with that person. Not gonna lie to you and make things rosy or cute but this person is trying to indulge in the material world to forget about you but the thoughts of you keep slipping in their mind. That's everything I have for you pile 2, take care💕.

♡ Placements for you:

Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn, Pisces, Libra. Dominant planets in Neptune, Venus, Uranus, Saturn. Sun or moon in the 2nd, 6th, 10th, 12th and 7th house in your chart.

Pile 3 - Candles ✨

🤍 Do they feel your energy?

Hey, so... Short answer No, they don't. I'm picking up on two people here. Someone old in their late 20s or middle 30s to early 40s. This person is very mature. Have their own stable job and income. And they are serious about dating OR someone who is very comfortable in the solitude and doesn't want to leave their comfort zone and meet new people. I'm picking up on someone who had their fair share of heartbreak and those experiences made them more resilient and more mature. I see someone who is responsible and structured, not spiritual at all. I don't see any energy exchange happening between you and them. Your lives are not in alignment yet. It might happen if they chose to move from their comfort zone and get to know people. They are so strict I'm picking up on ESTJ, ENTJ, ISTX and even INXJ. Someone in their own world and doesn't leave their comfort zone easily. Now the other person is their complete opposite. I'm picking up on someone who have the most chaotic love life. Your person is in their early to mid 20s, possibly still in college. They are partying hard and lovebombing others harder. This person's life is a MESS rn. I see that they are in a very chaotic state in their life especially toward dating. I see that this person is a serial dater or date multiple people in the same time or one after another because they hate being alone. I see that they are currently in a relationship with someone and they are either being lovebombed/ sexbombed by that perosn lol or they are doing that thing. Anyways, this person's is love life is unstable af. I'm picking up on someone with the MBTI ESFP, ENFP, ISFP, and for a few they might be an EXTP. In both cases you and that person are not aligned energetically yet. Because you have your life and they have their life too.

☆ Placements for you:

Libra, Aries, Taurus, Sagittarius, Cancer, Mars in Aries and Sagittarius. Dominant planets in Mars, Saturn. Sun or moon in the 7th, 1st, 2nd, 9th and 4th house in your chart.

Post date: 25th of June 2025 - Wed.

3 ✅ out of 4

*Feedback is appreciated

[sylusgworl]

FALLING (IN LOVE) IS NOT A CHOICE ft. sylus

content: domestic fluff, gn!reader, established relationship, sylus becomes a sweetheart in your presence

a/n: i love him, that's it. wc: 1k . rbs are very appreciated <3

m.list

Never did you ever think you'd come to love the lonely scarlet eyed crow that towers over the N109 zone with power equal to none.

But fate told you otherwise.

Sylus had become such an essential part of your daily life, you couldn't even remember what your days used to be like before meeting him.

You'd grown familiar to seeing his drowsy face in the morning, his groggy 'good morning' with eyes still clad in sleep and ruffled silver locks brushing against his forehead.

You'd gotten used to his big arms cradling you against his body, whether you were sad or happy, lonely or in good company.

You'd gotten used to the way he'd welcome you whenever you'd drop by, putting you first before anything and anyone else.

Falling for Sylus wasn't in the plan, it wasn't premeditated. It wasn't supposed to happen at all.

But whose heart actually follows reason?

As you sit on the sofa, a warm blanket covering your bare legs and a book laying on top of them, you slowly peek up from the bland novel you were reading, trying to find him.

He is in the kitchen, a black apron hugging his waist so prefectly while he dextrously and with no difficulty flips the pan.

His eyes, those very same red eyes you loved getting lost into, slowly meet yours, as if he knew long before you'd been staring at him.

He smiles. his face, previously hardened by concentration, now melted, softened, the boss-man of Onychinus tamed by none other than you.

“It's almost ready, sweetie,” he says, his tone soft, the tone reserved only for you. You almost melt at the name he calls you by, even if you weren't new to the relationship, even if he had called you that plenty of times.

“Okay,” your answer is low pitched, almost a whisper, as you shift your body on the sofa, searching for a comfortable position, your eyes never leaving him once, even after he goes back to work, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows, the forearms glistening under the yellowish kitchen glow.

After you set the table and Sylus lays the plate in front of you, you're pleasantly surprised by what you see. He'd managed to make your favourite dish.

You look up, surprise flickering in your eyes and meet Sylus's gaze, amusement teasing his lip upwards, as he raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“So? Aren't you gonna eat?” his voice hides a tone of teasing, so you nod before diving in.

The dinner goes by quietly, air filled with your laughter at Sylus's hopeless attempt at singing, and numerous impersonations (of Sylus) Mephisto managed to land.

Dinner and dishes done, you ready yourself for bed. You find Sylus already waiting for you, burgundy sleepwear echoes the wine swirling in the cup as he studies a paper in his hand—probably a report.

“You're here,” he says, discarding the paper on the nightstand as soon as he looks up and finds you standing at the door.

You smile and dash to the bed, the mattress diving under your weight as you lunge yourself forward and land on his lap.

Sylus doesn't let you take him by surpise, ever. His arms are already there, expecting your whimsy act already.

“Oh?” he feignes surprise, locking you in his hold while hugging you, his warmth enveloping you into a calm and tranquility you can only ever find by his side.

You slap his shoulder, “don't pretend. You already knew about my surpise-attack,” you say in a disappointed tone, resting your head against his torso while feeling his breath against your forehead as a chuckle leaves his lips.

“I can never manage to lie to you, kitten,” he kisses your forehead, gently, the touch of his lips so soft and imperceptible you think you might've imagined it.

“Now, you need to sleep,” he sets your head on the pillow and slides the duvet over your bodies.

You close your eyes.

Yes, you truly loved this scarlet eyed lonely crow. Except, now that you were there, you hoped he wouldn't be lonely anymore.

© sylusgworl - 2025, all rights reserved / i don't allow anyone to copy, repost on other platforms or sell my works.

[mentalbreakdownsarenormal]

"The carefree shamelessness of a kid." That... entirely recontextualizes her relationship with Lancer in chapter 1, doesn't it.

(Long rant about the two under the cut)

I mean, consider what chapter 1 must have been like for her. The human freak she hates has just caught her eating school property, and if they report it it'd be the last straw that gets her expelled. Considering what she said to them in The_Newist_Girl post, they will probably do so immediately and remorselessly. It is only because of their mother and her kindness towards her that she doesn't cause a major incident on the spot. She begrudgingly agrees to just get some more chalk and head back to class.

(She also drops the line "If you haven't gotten it by now... Your choices don't matter" which uh. Speaking of internalization.)

Of course, it isn't that simple. The closet is both impossibly dark and impossibly big. And when the two of them go to leave, the door is slammed in her face and locked. The floor collapses under her and she falls through. The drop is impossibly far.

She wakes up in a new world that does not make sense. The first person (barring the freak) she sees starts shooting at the two of them. She finds an entire abandoned town, complete with a castle. And, perhaps the strangest thing of all, she meets a hooded figure who tells her about a prophecy. One she is a part of.

One that calls her a hero.

She doesn't believe it. When asked to accept her destiny as one of the Delta Warriors, she refuses. The hooded guy is knocked away by a kid on a bike. And he's the first person to finally give her a clear answer when she asks a question.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I'm... The Bad Guy!"

This is the first and only thing she has understood in the last few hours. He's a bad guy. He's getting in her way. Someone's getting beat up. After the fight, two facts make themselves clear. One, she needs to go east. Two, people are gonna try and stop her.

So she goes, alone, and makes herself a menace of the enemies. Beats them up, steals their stuff, and other sorts of things you would do in a normal RPG. That's what the enemies are for, after all. Why would she be nice to someone trying to kill her. Eventually, she's blocked by a door she can't open alone until the other nerds show up. She needs to follow them, but like hell she's actually gonna help them or change her behavior at all. There's no point. Kris and Ralsei are good and she's bad. They fell right into their roles, being all nice and stuff, but she's not like them. She can't think of anything good to say about someone trying to kill them like they can. She isn't delicate. She isn't skilled at anything. But she can smash things. And so smash things she shall. Just like she always has, and just like she always will. Don't know why anyone's expecting anything else.

She won't, she can't grow as a person like they can, not now not ever.

Susie's arc where she grows as a person begins after two rooms. It's the scene where Lancer mistakes Susie trying to intimidate him as advice on how to be scary and thanks her for it. His praise surprises her and having someone who appreciates her motivates her to become better. That's the basic reading anyway. But in hindsight...

Lancer is a child. A young child. Why? Lancer's age, for the most part, is irrelevant to his character. If you wanted him to parallel Susie, why not write him to be the same age as everyone else? How does the relationship between the two of them benefit from Susie needing to babysit the kid half the time they hang out?

She's his mentor. The one she never had herself. Lancer is bad at being scary. His evil laugh sounds like a baby Santa Claus. He has no idea what he's doing, he's just trying to be "scary and badass" like his dad. And it just so happens being scary is one of the few things Susie knows how to be "good" at. And with that in mind, Susie's words suddenly take on a whole new meaning.

Susie interrupts with a single word. "Stop." What Susie says next, about wannabe tough guys and bitten faces isn't her trying to scare him. It's her trying to crush him. The same way she was when she tried to play. You need to stop because you're bad, now here's someone who can do it better. But unlike back then, the person who told the kid to stop was the better person. The kid got the chance to see it be done properly and was told what exactly needed improvement.

And the next time they meet, Lancer acts far more intimidating. He's still not good, to be sure, but he did improve. He then immediately asks for feedback to try to improve more. He doesn't even have guys, he just wanted to practice.

And this shatters Susie's world view. This kid, this young, carefree kid who's just playing around improves. The kid who's the only person around she could understand or relate to, the kid who introduced himself as "the bad guy" *improved*. Whatever was wrong with this kid that made him a bad guy, that made him an outcast, didn't end up mattering. The support around him did.

In the very same scene Lancer shows improvement, he realizes your team doesn't have a name. To fix this, he asks everyone to drop a name in his bucket to be randomly selected. Kris doesn't and they "look like they don't care." But Susie does add a name. She might not put a lot of effort into it, but she plays along. Susie, who walked through puzzles, who disobeyed commands, who left the party behind, who repeatedly complains about you being slow, who refused help stop the very world from ending, put a name in the bucket.

And in every following scene the two are together, she encourages everything he does.

She expected to be able to play it because she was. She wasn't trying to be good: she liked the piano and she wanted to play it, so she did. Playing for the sake of playing with the carefree shamelessness of a kid.

But because someone thought she was "bad", they told her to stop. It's a role she's been assigned all her life. Without explanation, without justification, without fault, something as inherent to her as her voice, her claws, her skin.

So she internalized it. "Good" must be a role too, right? No one's ever cared enough to teach her about practice or training or perseverance. "Good" is something Susie would simply never get to be.

[wcnderlnds]

waste the night ★ choi su-bong (thanos)

・❥・ summary: all it takes is one night, one simple choice and your life changes forever meeting a handsome stranger along the way. ・❥・word count: 2.4k ・❥・warnings: 18+, mdni. unprotected sex, dirty talk, rough sex, choking. swearing, drug mentions, usual squid game stuff. ・❥・authors note: this might be rubbish idk but i wanted to write something anyway so i'm posting and vanishing into the night <3

The small rectangle card lay on the bar in front of you, the symbols on it glaring at you, taunting you. When the guy in the suit had approached you, your first instinct was to walk away — stranger danger and all of that. But, when he offered you the card, mentioning there’d be a big cash prize if you took part and won, you had immediately snatched it from his hands. What really could be the harm in it? Play a few games and win some money. It didn’t sound too hard and you really needed the money. Life hadn’t been the kindest to you lately and it was safe to say you were at rock bottom. 

For the last few weeks, you’d been staying on your friend’s couch. After catching your partner cheating on you, you had immediately packed your bags and left. On top of that, you had recently been laid off from your job so you had no income. You were homeless and jobless – legitimately at rock bottom. Your days were spent feeling sorry for yourself, trying to pick up the pieces of your broken life.

But this card? This was an opportunity to turn things around.

“Can I buy you a drink, Senorita?” The deep voice drew you from your thoughts, your head turning to see a purple haired guy leaning on the bar beside you. He wore a bright green shirt, tattoos covered his hands and arms, his purple hair a flat mess on his head but he still remained the best looking guy in the place.

“Sure, why not?” You shrugged your shoulders.

“What’s your poison?”

“Espresso Martini.”

The man wasted no time in calling the bartender over and ordering your drink. You couldn’t deny how good it felt that someone had taken such an interest in you to even want to buy you one. It had been so long since it had happened. Maybe he was just being kind, taking pity on you but the way his eyes raked over your body told you a different story. He was interested. He didn't even need to say it, his eyes did it for him. Those dark brown eyes that anyone could easily get lost in. 

“Names Thanos, by the way,” he grinned, handing your drink over to you. It didn’t go amiss the way his fingers grazed yours, sending sparks through your body.

“Thanos?” You snickered. “Really?”

“Yeah. You don’t know me?”

“Should I?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you remember who I am by the end of the night.”

Usually, a comment like that would be an immediate turn off but there was something about this man that intrigued you. There was no doubt he was trouble but you were drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. When was the last time you’d ever felt like that? It had to have been years so a little indulgence wouldn’t hurt. The attention was nice, needed even. Being cheated on had made you feel insecure, like you weren’t enough but here was this handsome guy showering you with the attention that you sorely craved. It didn’t have to mean anything and it wouldn’t. He didn’t seem like the relationship type of guy anyway.

As the night wore on, you got to know him more. He was a rapper – he’d come second on some underground rapping show which you had to admit was pretty impressive. He’d told you about his home life, how his dad was a piece of shit, how much he loved his mom but he was constantly letting her down. You felt for him, you really did. As chaotic as he seemed, deep down he was an okay guy. He seemed to care, he just didn’t like to show it. When you’d told him about your partner, he’d offered to go and beat them up. That had made you laugh. This stranger that you barely knew wanted to fight for your honour, it was enough to make you almost forget how shit you felt.

It was three drinks in when you asked the question that you never thought you’d be asking someone ever again. As you placed your glass back down on the bar, you turned to Thanos, biting your lower lip as seductively as you could, hoping that he’d get the message. “Do you want to get out of here?”

His eyes lit up instantly. “Fuck yeah, I do. My place is just around the corner.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Thanos grabbed your hand, leading you out of the club, the music growing distant as you entered the streets of Seoul. This wasn’t usually your thing. Never had you really had a one night stand but for one night you just wanted to feel wanted. You wanted to feel like you mattered just for a few hours.

The second you entered his front door, he wasted no time in pushing you up against the wall, his lips on yours in a frenzied kiss. There was nothing gentle about it, his hands grabbing at any part of your body he could get to. You tugged at the hem of his shirt, lifting it up and off his head. He followed suit, pulling yours off your body. Then, he was diving back in, his tongue tangling with yours.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot,” he mumbled against yours lips. His hand had now dove inside the shorts you were wearing, fingers sliding along the fabric your panties. It was almost embarrassing how wet you already were but, honestly, you didn’t care. It had been too long.

“Shutup,” you rolled your eyes, your fingers tugging at his hair. “Stop wasting time and fuck me already.”

“Sassy, huh? I’d watch that mouth of yours, Senorita.”

“Or what?”

He smirked at you, pushing your panties to the side and sliding a finger inside you without warning. You groaned at the relief, throwing your head back against the wall as he began to pump his finger in and out of you at speed. He added a second one, his free hand holding your hips which were trying to buck wildly into his hand. “Not so sassy now.”

“Fuck,” you whined. “Oh god, I’m gonna cum.”

“Already? I know I’m good but damn, babe.”

“Oh my God, shutup.”

He curled his fingers, biting down on your neck to leave a mark. He didn’t let up, his fingers pumping into you with expertise. God, he really did know what he was doing. When you’d first laid eyes on him at the bar, you had noticed how nice his hands were and now those long, slender fingers were bringing you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. You felt that familiar feeling pooling, your body tensing signalling that your orgasm was fast approaching just like you’d said. As you were about to cum, he pulled his fingers from you with a shit eating grin.

“See, that’s what happens when you talk back to me,” he clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. He made a show of bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking your juices from his fingers. “Mhm, you taste so good.”

“Thanos.”

“Yeah, Senorita?”

“Come on.”

“I don’t know. You’ve been a sassy little shit. Maybe you should beg for it.” He grabbed your thighs, signalling for you to jump which you did immediately. He carried you to his bedroom. It wasn’t much, pretty bland, actually. A double bed, clothes laid around the place and a few posters here and there. For someone who said he was a rapper, you’d assumed he’d have a big place but this was… small. Maybe he wasn’t all he’d made himself out to be. Not that you cared; after tonight, you’d never see him again.

He threw you down on the bed, laying beside you and pulling you on top of him so you were straddling his lap. “Go on, Senorita, beg for it. Beg for me to fuck you like you want me to and maybe I’ll be kind and give you what you’re craving.”

The urge to roll your eyes was strong but you didn’t, knowing you had to play along to get what you wanted. So, you rolled your hips against his, the friction of his jeans against your panties good but not enough. You could feel him beneath you, hard and ready. It must be killing him to hold back like this. “Thanos, baby, please. Fuck me. I need it so bad. I need you inside me, please.

“That’s a good girl. Not so hard now, was it?” He lifted you off him for a second to pull down his jeans and boxers. His cock sprang up, hard and leaking at the tip. “Go on then. Sit on my dick since you’re so desperate.”

Pushing your panties to the side, you hovered over his cock, gripping him at the base to hold him steady. You positioned him at your entrance, beginning to sink down. The second you felt the tip of his cock breach your entrance, you moaned. He was big, bigger than your ex, that was for damn sure. Once he was fully inside you, he grabbed at your hips, his fingers digging into your skin hard. He hissed, fighting the urge to thrust up into you but before he could, you lifted your hips and slammed back down.

There was nothing gentle about it as you began to bounce on his cock, hard and fast. He slipped out a few times, Thanos having to push himself back inside you. “Fucking hell, princess. You’re so desperate.”

“You’re so deep,” you whined, eyes closing as you focused on the pleasure consuming your entire body. “You feel so good.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to have more so he began to thrust up into you, the sound of your skin smacking together sounding out through the small room. “Yeah, take it, you desperate little thing.”

Holy shit, was this what you’d been missing out on all these years being stuck with your partner? Compared to this, your sex life had been completely boring. The words spilling from Thanos’ mouth were the biggest turn on, the rough way he was grabbing you, giving you exactly what you needed – it was like nothing you’d ever had before.

His hand slid up to your neck, applying a little pressure. Your hips began to falter but that didn’t matter, Thanos was taking the lead now, pounding up into you like a man possessed. The grunts and moans coming from him were making you dizzy… or maybe that was the way he was hammering into you like nobody ever had before. You were definitely going to be sore in the morning but it was so worth it. 

“I’m so fuckin’ close, Senorita. Where do you want it?” He grunted.

“Inside me. Please.” You could barely form words at this point, too consumed by the intense feeling of your orgasm nearing. You could feel yourself tightening around his pistoning cock, your hands scrambling for purchase for something to hold on to.

“Dirty girl,” he panted, his fingers around your throat tightening a little. It was one more thrust up into you that triggered both your orgasms. You cried out his name, his hand on your hip holding you still as he emptied himself deep inside you.

As the waves of your release subsided, you collapsed on top of him, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath back. Silence filled the room, only your heavy breaths filling the space. When your brain finally came back to you, you climbed off him, getting to your feet. You scrambled around to find your shirt, Thanos laying on the bed, vape in his hand as he watched you. “Leaving already?”

“Yep,” you said as you pulled on your shirt. “Got a call to make but this was great. See you around, Thanos.”

Before he could even say anything, you were out of the door, your phone in your hand. As you stepped out onto the street, you pulled the card from the pocket of your skirt (a genius invention, if you had to say so) and dialled the number.

That was it. Your fate was sealed.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Gunshots sounded out, ringing through your ears. You had to fight the urge to run for safety but you knew the second you moved, you’d meet your end. So, you stayed still. You were so close to the finish line, just one more sprint and you’d be there. The doll began to sing again and you ran as fast as you could. The second your foot stepped over the white line, you felt like you could breath again. Your heart was pounding in your chest, harder than it ever had. Fear gripped you like never before. What the hell was this place? Why had you made that stupid call? You weren’t this desperate for money.

As you hunched over, bile rising in your stomach, you took a deep breath in. Guns were still firing but you couldn’t think about that right now. You couldn’t turn around and see all the death and destruction, it would make you spiral and that wasn’t something you could afford right now.

“Senorita!” A familiar voice called out. You stood up, looking to see where it came from but you were engulfed in a hug before you could even register what was happening. You recognised the cologne, the glimpse of purple hair giving away exactly who it was.

“Thanos?!” You asked, shocked.

He pulled back only briefly to look at you but as he did, you noticed the glazed over look in his eyes, the stupid grin on his face. Only a psychopath would be smiling in a situation like this or someone that was on something. Of course he was. “Fancy seeing you here. This must be fate.”

“Or punishment.”

He shushed you, grabbing your face in his hands. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you. And, maybe later we can have a little repeat of last night.”

“How can you even think of that when people are dying?”

“It’s all I can think about.”

“You’re annoying.”

“And you’re stuck with me so stick by my side and I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise,” he said fiercely.

As under the influence as he was, there was something about the intense way he was looking at you and the way he’d said those words that made you believe him. If you had to be in this nightmare, at least you had someone on your side and you had a feeling Thanos would be a good ally to have in a place like this.

taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @berfgrimm @loveesiren @justsisse @sherrayyyyy @aizshallnotbefound @fleabagspurplewife @gemzyy @bettelaboure @gdinthehouseee @breakmeoff @babyrvis @flymetothexmoon @forevervibezzzz1 @ttturnitup @szonyix6277 @riddlerloveb0t @youlikeex @str8t2video @septywitch @melanatedhorrorqueen @l5byrinth @tabibabib

[just-b-yourself]

What Happened to The Handmaid’s Tale? A Eulogy for Nick Blaine, and My Faith in TV Writing

I wasn’t going to write again.

But then, one quiet afternoon, I remembered Nick Blaine.

And the rage came back.

I’ve written about this show so many times, you’d think I’d have found closure by now.

But here I am. Still grieving. Still bitter. Still trying to figure out how one of my favorite shows of all time managed to destroy its own legacy — not with a bang, but with bad writing, broken characters, and one very disrespectful airplane explosion.

It’s honestly impressive how the writers of Season 6 managed to take a show once praised for its layered character arcs, emotional realism, and slow-burning tension — and reduce it to a mess of incoherent choices, character assassinations, and empty symbolism. It’s like they held a bonfire in the writers’ room and tossed in all the previous seasons’ scripts, just to make sure no one accidentally referenced anything consistent. The show used to be about trauma, survival, resistance. In Season 6, it became about… who knows? Betraying long-standing character arcs? Gaslighting your audience? Maybe the writing team got stuck in Gilead themselves and started drafting episodes from inside a Commander’s basement. Or maybe they tried to escape to Canada but got caught mid-draft. Either way, it’s clear someone was sleep-deprived, emotionally unavailable, and possibly writing on a dare. What happened to subtlety? Continuity? Depth? Oh right — they exploded in that same plane as Nick.

How to Lose a Loyal Audience in 10 Episodes ?

Want to lose your fanbase? Step 1: Ignore years of thoughtful character building. Step 2: Undermine the most emotionally resonant relationships. Step 3: Kill one of the most beloved characters offscreen and call it closure. Step 4: Promote your spin-off like nothing happened. Congrats, you’ve just alienated half your viewers and turned what could’ve been a legacy into a cautionary tale for future writers.

Let’s talk about Nick Blaine. Again.

A character so layered, so quietly devastating, so beautifully restrained, that he somehow managed to express a full novel’s worth of emotion with a single conflicted glance. A man who risked everything in silence. Who rebelled not with fireworks, but with quiet, impossible choices. A man who loved June with a kind of quiet devotion that never asked for recognition — and rarely got it from the writers either, apparently.

Because whatever the hell Season 6 was… it wasn’t written by anyone who had watched the previous five.

This is a man who:

Was always part of the resistance (yes, even when no one else knew it).

Played the long game, while everyone else played checkers with a blindfold.

Loved June with a kind of brutal, sacrificial tenderness — and proved it over and over again.

Carried guilt, grief, and agency in every scene, even when he said nothing.

Was literally canonically confirmed to be part of The Testaments, which takes place years after the events of this show.

Did the writers:

Decide subtle male characters are just "too much effort"?

Confuse "minimalist" with "nonexistent"?

They didn't just underwrite him — they actively un-wrote him. All the nuance, the inner conflict, the impossible choices? Gone. Swept under the narrative rug like inconvenient canon

Because no matter how much you try to fade him out, Nick Blaine’s story matters. His choices mattered. His love mattered. His presence in the rebellion — quiet, strategic, constant — mattered.

He wasn’t loud. He wasn’t flashy.

He was the man in the shadows, protecting what he could, loving who he shouldn’t, and carrying the weight of every compromise he ever made.

And for six seasons, we watched him try. And try. And try again.

And this is the thanks he gets?

I knew they wouldn’t give him a happy ending.

I knew, deep down, that he wouldn’t ride off into the sunset with June, holding Holly’s hand and planting tomatoes in some post-Gilead garden. That was never his path.

But I thought — I hoped — they would at least honor him.

Instead, they reduced him to a name on a report.

A body in an exploded plane.

A casualty of a mission where he gave everything, only to be erased with a single line of dialogue and a flicker of guilt in June’s eyes.

He didn’t even get a scene.

He died offscreen. Like a narrative inconvenience.

Because Nick was never just a love interest.

He was never just “the other guy.”

He was the one who saw June when no one else did.

He carried her in silence when she had nothing left.

He protected her when it cost him everything.

He stayed loyal — not to Gilead, not to any side, but to her.

To love, in a world where love was weaponized, forbidden, devoured.

He lived in the grey, and he died in the dark.

And the writers didn’t even give us a light.

No real goodbye. No reckoning. No moment of honesty between him and June.

No justice for a man who spent six seasons playing chess while everyone else smashed pieces on the floor.

Nick Blaine didn’t need a happy ending.

But he deserved a real one. One that acknowledged who he was. What he did. What he carried. The love he held and never demanded. The quiet war he fought until the very end.

Nick was never loud. Never dramatic. Never the obvious hero.

He was quiet resistance. A man who lived in grey zones, made impossible choices, and never once stopped fighting — even when it cost him everything.

He saved Luke. He saved Moira. He got June out — twice. He handed over intel. He infiltrated Command. He put himself on the line every single season for the people he loved.

He didn’t have big speeches or dramatic gestures. He was quiet resistance. The man in the background.

The one who sacrificed his safety, his freedom, and eventually his life — not for recognition, not for power, but for love.

For June.

For his family.

For the rebellion.

For a world better than the one that had broken him.

He was the most selfless character in the entire series.

He showed up — always.

When June called, he came.

When others hesitated, he acted.

He got people out. He gave everything — and asked for nothing.

And the irony?

He’s canonically alive in The Testaments.

He’s meant to continue. To matter. To exist in the world after all this.

But not here. Not in the show they gave us.

They killed him off like a side character in someone else's story.

No goodbye. No final scene. No dignity.

Just: boom. Plane gone. Problem solved

But the writers clearly didn’t rewatch their own show before writing Season 6.

Because they destroyed Nick’s arc in two or three lazy scenes, like all that nuance was just a narrative inconvenience.

They needed someone expendable. So they made it him.

And June?

She betrayed him. For the “greater good.”

And we’re supposed to buy that?

That she’d let him die so quietly after everything he did for her, for her family, for the entire resistance?

This isn’t the June I knew. Not the woman who carried trauma and fury and compassion in equal measure.

In Season 6, she’s… different. Detached. Not just hardened — hollowed.

I understand what they were trying to do — “the greater good,” sacrifice, etc. — but it felt false. Like she’d lost her humanity, and the show didn’t notice.

Her fire turned to static. Her decisions made no emotional sense.

The writing didn’t just drop the ball — it launched it into orbit and called it a finale.

There were so many ways to honor these characters.

So many chances to bring their arcs to a meaningful close.

But the final season was a mess of plot holes, character inconsistencies, and writing that felt like a stranger finishing someone else’s story.

They didn’t just forget Nick — they forgot everything that made the show worth watching in the first place.

Let’s talk about the unholy trinity of Gilead’s architects: Joseph Lawrence, Serena Joy, and Aunt Lydia — three characters who, despite their haunting résumés of systemic cruelty, have somehow been offered redemption arcs as if trauma had an expiration date. Joseph Lawrence isn’t just a “complicated man” with a tragic wife — he’s the very engineer of the Colonies: the mass grave of Gilead, where infertile women and “undesirables” were sent to suffer and die in radioactive agony. Then there’s Serena Joy — the woman who wrote the book on Gilead’s theocratic oppression. Literally. A mouthpiece of rape culture wrapped in pearls and condescension, Serena held June down — while pregnant — to be raped by her husband and stole a child from her biological mother. And finally, Aunt Lydia — the evangelical war criminal disguised as a devout caregiver. She tased, beat, and psychologically broke handmaids with gleeful fervor. She abducted children from their mothers, broke their spirits in “Red Center” indoctrination camps, and justified every scar with a Bible verse. And the fact that they were offered forgiveness, understanding, and even sympathy — while a character like Nick Blaine, who resisted from within and bled silently for the cause, was thrown away — isn’t just insulting. It’s revisionist fiction disguised as nuance. Their crimes didn’t fade with time. The show just chose to forget.

Let’s not even talk about the show promo.

Because wow — the disrespect.

The gaslighting.

The interviews where they teased fans like we were children.

The smugness. The vague answers. The flat-out contradictions.

You could feel the disdain.

It was clear they didn’t know what story they were telling anymore.

Or worse — they didn’t care

I’ve written so many posts about this. I’ve tried to make peace with it.

But every time I revisit the show, every time I think about what it could have been, I feel that sting again. That betrayal.

Because this wasn’t just about a character dying.

It was about a show giving up on itself.

Nick Blaine deserved better.

June deserved to be written with care.

We, the viewers who stayed loyal through the darkest moments, deserved better.

We didn’t love The Handmaid’s Tale just for the plot.

We loved it because of the people. The characters. The layered, flawed, beautiful writing that made us feel something real.

And no character represented that better than Nick.

He’s not a villain.

He’s not a traitor.

He's not a nazi.

He’s a man who lived in darkness so others could find the light.

A man who died alone, unloved, uncelebrated.

So here I am, again.

Writing another eulogy.

Not just for Nick — but for a story that forgot how to tell itself.

And I wish I could say I’m done now. That I’ve moved on.

But the truth is… when a show breaks your heart like this, the ache lingers.

RIP Nick Blaine.

And RIP to the version of The Handmaid’s Tale that once meant the world to me

So this is my final post.

My final grief.

Nick Blaine deserved better.

Not just a longer scene. Not just a different ending.

He deserved to be seen, understood, remembered — for the choices he made, the burdens he carried, the love he gave without ever asking for it in return.

But I remember him.

We remember him.

And we will carry that with us — in the silence, in the spaces the show forgot to fill, in the stories that were never told.

Goodbye, Nick.

You mattered.

[milkywayes]

what's your preferred choice for garrus' loyalty mission? i love that mission a lot...on one hand i want shepard to trust garrus' judgement the way he trusts hers, and when you push him about killing sidonis he points out the people sidonis got killed, and the unfairness of him getting to walk away. on the other hand he is so upset and acts so aggressively during the mission. even tho i do watch him beat up harkin everytime without interfering LOL. harkin had it coming (and it's hot shhh) it's more that garrus is obviously devastated and probably not thinking straight. i do love how shepard and he can argue it out and how much pain he's in for his percieved failure on omega, and his need to find justice. and how much it pains him that there may be a grey area where justice is not clear

My Shepard doesn’t go into the mission expecting to interfere. 

She has her concerns, but ultimately if Garrus asks for her help, her number one goal is to give it. On this suicide mission, he is more than her lieutenant. They both experienced recent, traumatic upheaval, and he is the only thing left that she can derive comfort from, even when he’s not quite the man that she knew. He’s volunteered for her mission, her suicide run, and the least she can do is return the favor and help tie up his one loose end. There might even be a little voice in her head that says, this is the source of his pain and everything about him that’s off and unfamiliar to her, and once it’s excised, she’ll have her crew-mate back how he was.

But then they’re on the mission, and he is less himself than she’s ever seen him. They’re on the mission and he is breaking apart. And she learns exactly how much his team meant to him, and there is no way to forget for even a moment that Sidonis was one of them too.

If he had kept his cool throughout, not let anyone see the emotional state he was in, she would have let him put a bullet in that turian’s head. 

She’s a commander; she understands the position he was in and what he owes his team. She doesn’t give a shit about Sidonis. They’ve all killed people for less. But when Garrus asks her, what would you do if someone betrayed you? Sold out her squad; her friends, for personal gain—betrayed their common goal—left them there to die—

She’d want that vengeance too. But she is far enough removed from that scenario to know that she’d wish someone would take that responsibility from her hands. That dealing with that particular loose end is not something that should be her task. That vigilante justice is well and good until it gets personal, and that as commander, the traitor would have been her subordinate too.

Killing a subordinate and worse, a friend, in cold blood is not something that you can come back from. It’ll stay with you for the rest of your days. Justice served—and you’re the one who pays for it to happen. Every time you close your damn eyes. The exploding head of a person you once swore to look out for.

The price is steep. She doesn’t want to see Garrus pay it. That death, and the deaths of his squad—of his idealism, his dreams—that trail behind it like offal would be an open wound forever. If she interferes, he can be angry at her for breaching his trust and crossing that boundary, but at least he would be hating someone other than himself. 

It’s not really her place. There are turian social mores and particularities at play here that she can’t even pretend to understand beyond simple keywords like loyalty and accountability. It might destroy their relationship and leave her all alone on that facsimile of a ship again. But on this suicide mission, Garrus is more than her lieutenant, and he’s more than just a comforting presence too. 

He’d have to be a hell of a lot more for her to willingly place her skull between the muzzle of his prized sniper rifle and the target that gives him tunnel vision and a twitchy trigger finger.

And he must be, because that’s exactly what she does.

[yandere-sins]

As the person who is the most yandere writer to ever yandere, may I humbly ask the following? How the different kind of yanderes react to darling cheating on them? (While they're still in a normal relationship and she doesnt know they are yandere yet. Tho i think for at least one of these possibilities, her cheating is what turns them into a yandere iykwim) I'm talking pathetic ones who forgive, freaks who get turned on, those who get physical etc...

I am not deserving of such honorable titles, but thank you for requesting! :D

I'm going to do the regular types, not the advanced ones, hope you don't mind! I also put some stereotypes below each type!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

❥ Obsessive Yandere, who sees you leave that other person's house with a mix of heartbreak and jealousy while still adoring you intensely. You are positively glowing, happy, and satisfied after your one-night stand, but they can't feel as happy for you as they want. Not when it wasn't them you spent the night with. Obsessives want you to be happy—with them. They want you to have fun and do things that delight you—with them. They want to do these things to you! They are so incredibly jealous that anyone else got to touch you in ways they've been imagining for months. That someone got to make you scream and moan when it's all they ever wanted to hear from your mouth. That they got to kiss your lips, caress your skin, and fill you with pleasure—all things they've wanted to do for you!

❥ Yet, obsessives can't help but climb through your window once you come home and steal your clothes while you're showering. They smell like you, happy, sweaty, aroused. The stench of another person is almost unbearable. Yet, they keep smelling you while they get themselves off to the scent, wishing it was their own smell that stuck to your clothes. They'd never wash themselves again if they got to do what you did to a stranger last night! They would give you all you want and more, but you don't even know they exist. They are just a yandere who cums on top of your bed while you are showering peacefully, unaware that they are in your room, getting off to your stinky clothes like the pathetic dog they are. And in their foggy, orgasm-ridden mind, they think it's a good idea to wait under your bed for you to go to sleep that night so they can crawl out and show you just how good of a choice they'd be the next time you need to take the edge off.

Pathetic Yandere, Stalkers, Fans, Your new co-worker, ...

❥ Possessive Yandere, who are absolutely furious. Have they not done everything for you? Been at your beck and call for every shit you needed, and yet, you chose someone else to satisfy your sexual needs? Have you lost your mind?! Sure, you look happy, but your yan can't really find it in them to be happy for you. They annoy you with questions about who it was, how it was, and what you did until you roll your eyes and slam a door in their face to get some privacy from their invasive questioning. It should have been them, they decide, chewing their nails as they stand in front of your room's door. They should have had the privilege to be with you that night, make you scream their name through ecstatic moans, and have you swear your complete and utter devotion to them, just like they would have, you two finally belonging together both body and mind.

❥ But instead, they have to put their feelings into something else. Something soft and squishy once they beat up that asshole that dared take you home last night. Something like that bastard's face. Possessives don't care how bloody they get unless it is your blood, so there's no stopping them from thoroughly beating up the poor person who got to taste and enjoy you before they did. They put their hands on what belonged to the yandere—so they get to pay the price. Depending on how angry they are, they might even come back to you with a little price that reads like a threat. A finger or a head that they throw at your feet, they themselves completely covered in blood as they warn you to be careful who you choose next time and that it better be the yandere to fulfill your fucking needs. You get your cheeks squeezed by bloody hands, their kiss rough and brisk before they leave to go shower, hoping you learned your damn lesson while they leave you behind nauseous.

Bullies, Mafia, Bosses, Roommates, Spoiled Nobles, ...

❥ Manipulative Yandere, who knows where you've been last night. Who is waiting for you to approach them, stumbling over your own words as you try to make excuses, knowing fully well they disapprove. But they just shrug, telling you to do what you want, but underneath their breath, they mutter that you're a slut. They keep making small remarks to you over the day to chip away at your self-worth and confidence. No hunger? Obviously, considering you were busy getting filled up last night. Your bones popping when you stretch? You should really start stretching after sex, or your muscles might shrivel up as much as your brain that said it was a good idea to get down and dirty with some stranger. Maybe you should ask for money next time to get some operation to be a better whore?

❥ Sentences like those and other attacks about your body and intelligence really take out the fun of the last night. The yan won't be surprised if they wait a set amount of time before "accidentally" stumbling over you crying. You, a blubbering mess, telling them how mean they are and how bad you feel, makes them smile internally. They'll kneel down and shush you, hugging you even though you aren't comfortable with it, telling you it's okay and your feelings are valid. They'll admit they might have overdone it but that they were just so hurt that you'd not tell them the truth and not come to them before doing something so stupid. You could have died, meeting up with that stranger, damnit! Or gotten an STI or other diseases! What if they were some creep that would now stalk or hurt you? (Ironic, I know.) A manipulative yan will give you the comfort you need after a whole day ruined by their own comments while also showing you that they "care". You'll think twice about betraying them again, won't you?

Therapists, Someone you idolize, Step-parent, Doctor, ...

❥ Delusional Yandere who just doesn't believe you. You could be standing in front of them, rubbing in how great the sex was last night, and they'd still be staring at you with wide, doe eyes, not knowing what to say. They might even tear up when you insist, cupping their hands over their ears and telling you to stop and that it isn't true. That the you they know would never do such... impure and disgusting things. Maybe you were kidnapped and forced, or it was all a dream, but this didn't happen! You love the yan! You love them so much, you'd never do that! Your love is the reason why you kept asking about how they were and hung out with them when nobody else did! You're a pure, beautiful, unreachable angel that no one can defile in their eyes. Human sins are beneath you as you have the biggest heart and most beautiful personality.

❥ You two are meant for each other! No one but the yandere should put their hands on you, so what could that all mean? Were you unsatisfied with your relationship? Do you want more? Is that what you're trying to tell the delusional? They want that too... to be one with you, to love you with all their might. Maybe it really is time to progress in your relationship. They come to this conclusion all on their own while you talk to them about your hook-up, suddenly speaking up to invite you to their home that afternoon. The yan had never invited you before, so sure, why not? And they smile ear to ear, happily, taking this as you agreeing to take the next step before they tell you they have to prepare some things before you come over and bounce off. There are lots of tools and equipment to buy, new sheets, ropes, cup noodles, blindfolds, a toothbrush for you, a pretty gag, and so much more! Finally moving in together is so exciting!

Childhood best friend, The loner/weird person, Someone who idolizes you, ...

❥ Protective Yandere just goes silent as you fess up what you did last night. They are so quiet and still it really concerns you, so you reach out to them, only for the yan to slap away your hand. They have never pushed you away before, nor have they hurt you either. They've always been so good to you, kind and helpful, always there when you needed them. Now, you can't even read their expression, their face completely blank as they process what you did. After all they sacrificed for you, how they protected and cared for you... you go and betray them like this? Is this how it will always be? Are they just a second choice to you? Isn't it their task to keep you comfortable? To provide? To love you? Why would you look for it with anyone else? Let anyone put their dirty hands on you and put you in danger without the yan there to protect you from?

❥ They apologize for lashing out before getting up, needing to get away from you for a moment and sort their thoughts. What did they do wrong? Why did you do that? What is happening? Why does it hurt so much? And most importantly, what now? They obviously can't trust you to make your own decisions. You have terrible judgment. And they can't trust anyone else either, not your friends (that they never liked) because they left you with some stranger or society who'd take advantage of your naivety and impulsive desires. If they can't let you go without you doing something so stupid... then you can't leave at all. They need to take better care; they let you down once already. It's the yan's whole life purpose to protect you, and they can do that best when keeping you locked up and safe from outside curiosities that would attract such a fragile being like you. You need them, and they promise not to repeat their own mistake and fail you again.

Bodyguards, Soldiers, Your benefactor, any kind of platonic yandere, Someone who feels indebted to you, ...

[vbluesss]

I gotta admit, I'm really surprised by how the dynamic between Rick and Morty has evolved throughout the show.

At first it was a super one-sided relationship, where Rick was the genius, totally in control, dragging his grandson into messed up situations without caring much about what happened to him (except for those rare moments when he actually did care), Morty on the other hand, was the "dumb" sidekick who didn't know anything an was constantly humiliated, not just in adventures but in his everyday life (I’ll never forget that memory where Rick pushes him down the stairs just to embarrass him in front of some girls).

What's interesting is that since then Morty started develop this deep resentment toward Rick, and unlike his mother and sister, he did not idealize him, he saw Rick for who he really is.

“I wanted you to have a normal life, that’s something you can’t have when Rick shows up.

Everything real turns fake. Everything right is wrong.

All you know is that you know nothing and he knows everything.

He’s not a villain, Summer, but he shouldn’t be your hero. He’s more like a demon, or a super fucked up god.”

Whe the purge episode came out, I thought that if things kept going this way, Morty might actually end up killing Rick someday. Not in the sense that he would become Evil Morty, it's just... He was clearly full of repressed rage.

"Fuck you Rick! I'll purge you too, you old rickety piece of crap. This has been a long time coming! I'm gonna rip your fucking guts out and smear them all over you face!"

Then the third season premiered and in the very first episode, Morty shot Rick with the intention of killing him! Scenes like these made me so invested in their dynamic, but especially in Morty's development. Sooo here's a little analysis about it!

In early seasons, Morty hated Rick. He totally wanted to kill him at some point, but ofc he wouldn't because:

He was kinda ashamed of this violent part of himself.

Rick is his granda, and if only because of the family bond, he still cares about him.

We're talkin' about Rick Sanchez, motherfucker, like Morty ever stood a chance (or at least that what Morty thought, since we now know that it is not impossible.)

Anyway, the point is Morty was seriously done with Rick's crap, but it's not like he had much choice. They're family, and on top of that, Morty did enjoy the adventures. So he just tolerated it.

Thing's went on like that for a while, Morty started standing up to Rick more and more, and often paid the price of Rick's ego (The Vat Of Acid is the best example) but they always had a strong bond, bla bla bla.

But let's not to forget how Rick constantly manipulated him. I still remember this lines:

"I just took over the family Morty- and if you tell your mom or your sister any of this I'll deny it, and they'll take my side because I'm a hero"

"You can die when I say so. I control you. I control the universe!"

Just adding to the whole "Rick is a god" thing. Morty is perfectly aware, better than anyone else in the family, that Rick is a bad person and had a lot of power over everyone. Up to this point he even handled abandonment quite well, Beth and Summer were the ones who seemed more affected by it.

Still, Morty admires Rick. He needs him. He wants to be around him. As Rick had his moments of real care and and saved Morty, not just for convenience, but genuine affection. Also they got along pretty well.

In "Rest and Ricklaxation" it's even said outright that Rick has an irrational attachment to Morty, and I'd say that Morty also has an irrational attachment to Rick! Because again, he knows who Rick really is. But after so many adventures and those tiny moments of kindness, he can't help but cling to him.

Over time, Morty got more of his own voice, going from being a simple sidekick to being a companion (but not totally equal), and for his part, Rick started to respect his grandson more too (even if the power dynamic hadn't totally shifted)

Then their relationship becomes straight-up codependent.

Let's not forget the crows! That episode wrecked Morty emotionally, and man, I get it! The whole thing about being replaced was nothing more than an empty threat, the crows a way to annoy him. Until it happened. Rick replaces him and dumps him. Then when Rick comes back it's not even for Morty, it's because the crows dumped him first. But Morty still chooses him. Why? because he has no one and nothing else.

Even when Morty has the chance to start a new life far away from Rick, he choose to stay. The truth is that chaos and adventures with Rick is all he's ever known. How do you walk away from the one thing you've built your identity around?

Then S6E2, "Rick: A Mort Well Lived" happens. Morty's most independent, self-aware part gets trapped in a video game... I always feel that like a loss, but I guess it was necessary in some kind of way????? Idk... Anyways, I really liked the direction they took with Morty's codependency and fear of abandonment. After Marta (Morty's fragment) choose to stay in the game, I feek like Morty become more dependent on Rick.

But it's not just Morty who changes, it's also Rick.

Before the crows leave him, he ends up learning a bit about empathy (I think that's what it was) and recognizes that what he and Morty have is toxic, blablabla. I won't expand on this because the analysis is focused on Morty, not Rick, but I want to emphasize the sentence he says in S6E10, "Ricktional Mortpoon's Rickmas Mortcation"

"You called me boring! I've become dog shit to you"

Rick realizes he's lost control over Morty, and acts like the victim because he feels like one. Their bond is more damaged than ever because there is no balance between them. Things were tense since before the crows, add to that the revelation that Morty is not Rick's original grandson, and the Prime oobsession. Things keep spiraling... Still, by the end of the episode Rick brings Morty into the Prime hunt.

Now that I've already mentioned Prime we can go back to Morty, because after they finally found him and Rick got his unsatisfactory revenge, Morty was left marked by Evil Morty words:

"What happens if Rick actually kills this guy? You ever think about that? Maybe he'll kill himself next."

Next episode we see that Rick stopped having adventures for a while to start drinking too much, clearly depressed after the events of the previous episode. Again, this shakes up his bond with Morty.

Past all this, we finally get to one of the best episodes! The first one that really focuses on Morty's psychology: S7E10, Fear no Mort.

(SIDE NOTE: Before that! Something super important happens earlier: His breakup with Planetina (S5E3). Remember what he said to Beth?

"My whole life I've never fit in anywhere. Everything I have to say is always met with an eye roll, as if the act of hearing what I have to say is some exhausting chore. Nobody in this family thinks I can say or do anything right. I've been all over the universe, meet hundreds of people, and Planetina's the only one I've ever meet that makes me feel like I belong."

In Morty's words (and as we have seen throughout the series) there's no one, not even his own family, who doesn't treat Morty like he's an idiot. Everyone just seems tired of dealing with him. Morty always noticed it, cause he's not dumb like people thinks he is. It's not until he feels he's finally formed a real, honest, loving and (in his eyes) healthy connection that he confronts, in this case, his mom for trying to break them up.

The part “Planetina's the only one I've ever met that makes me feel like I belong” reflects more than just teenage love. It's coming from someone who has been ignored, treated as annoying and irrelevant by his classmates, teachers, his family, and also, of course, Rick too.

Honestly, I think that after the breakup, Morty became even more emotionally vulnerable. Like, it made him cling to Rick even more because, as awful as Rick can be, he's still the only one who actually spends time with Morty, that listens to him (even if it's while complaining), and shown Morty that he matters to someone, even if it's just so Rick can use him.

When Morty breaks up with Planetina because she killed innocent people, his idealized, perfect vision of his girlfriend finally shatters. The problem isn't that Planetina killed people (Rick has already done that, even Morty killed before), the real issue is that there is no way to sustain this unrealistic vision Morty had for her anymore. She was supposed to be his safe space, something outside the caos. But after that, there's no way he can keep pretending she's who he thought she was.

This leaves a mark. And in the end, Morty goes to adventures with Rick as usual.

At this point, after so many adventures and failed relationships, Morty has internalized so much Rick's worldview. Since the pilot, Rick's been planting the idea that it should be just the two of them, going on adventures together forever and ever. Rick and Morty at 100 years, an emotional trap disguised as a fun promise of adventures from which Morty cannot escape, not only because circumstances have molded him to adapt Rick's vision of the world, love, his own worth and morality, but also because a big part of his identity revolves around Rick).

With all that said, we can finally talk about Fear No Mort!

First off, when they "come out" of the hole, Morty notices Rick staring into it looking genuinely sad, so he admits he's afraid of being responsible for his sadness.

"Hey Rick, you just looked real sad, which I’m afraid of. You know, of being responsible for your sadness.”

Then, once they're back to, Morty imagines basically an entire life with Rick by his side. At this point Morty can no longer project himself, even in his imagination, without him! And then it hits him: Rick was never really there in the first place. That's when Morty finally figures out what he's truly afraid of:

"I know what I'm afraid of! I'm afraid that you'd never say that [that he is irreplaceable] in real life. I'm afraid that if I jumped into a hole, you wouldn't even bother jumping in after me. You'd just stand there and watch. This entire thing has been about me! You're not even in the hole, are you?!"

THIS MOMENT. THIS IS THE EXACT MOMENT WHERE IT BECOMES CLEAR THAT MORTY IS EMOTIONALLY DEPENDENT ON RICK. His fear of rejection doesn't compare to his fear of meaning nothing to Rick, and the fact that his entire life now revolves around him.

The fear of relying on Rick.

So! Morty's no longer the same scared kid of early seasons who got dragged into adventures against his will, and slowly started resenting his grandpa to such extent that (in some moments) he thought about killing him. Not because he truly wanted to, deep down, but because the anger and frustration took over.

Now after everything that has been though (being replaced, literally losing the most rebellious part of himself, and suffering from a broken heart) Morty's now fully Rick Sanchez's grandson. Someone who enjoys adventures, no longer hesitate to kill people (his whole moral compass is another topic on its own), and who is totally unable to let go of his grandpa because is all he has, but also the only thing he wants too, since there's nothing better out there or on earth waiting for him.

Morty isn't trying to escape Rick anymore, he just wants to be loved by him.

The issue is that Morty reached a point where he needs Rick to feel like somebody. Right now he's emotionally dependent on Rick in an extreme way. It wasn't always like this, Morty used to care about him (or at least respect him), but he also kinda hated him. Thanks to all his arc and now that Rick's been slowly changing in recents seasons, Morty can live with this, even with his doubts and with the conscious fear that Rick doesn't love him or might leave him again, he's so hurt at this point that he'll take whatever Rick gives.

So yeah, we've gone from a Morty who was aware Rick was hurting him and still called him out, to one's who's fully resigned to this life.

(I bring back the scene where he had the opportunity to leave his life with Rick behind when Evil Morty offered him a way out of the Central Finite Curve. Rick admits that's the best option cause he has no plan, and we see the exact moment when Morty resigns and decides to stay with Rick, DESPITE what happened with the crows).

And you know why? Because Rick is changing too. Slowly, painfully, but it's happening. And Morty doesn't love Rick because he's good.

He loves him because that's the most he can expect from love.

To conclude:

Before, Morty had normal concerns. He wanted to go to school, be with Jessica (I miss her), and form a life like any other teeanger. Rick was something he tolerated because he was his grandpa, but clearly not the center of his life.

Now, that changed completely. He doesn't really have those desires anymore, now, what he wants is to go on adventure. He wants to keep exploring the universe with Rick, because its the only he has left and also, it's become the only thing he's truly passionate about. I'm not saying that he cannot fall in love again and be a regular teenager someday, but his priorities have shifted.

He genuinely enjoys those adventures, but specially enjoys being with Rick. He respects him, admires him, challenges him, understands him... and even with all the pain, he wants to stay by his side. For a 100 years.

Wow! this got way out of hand. It all started when I was like "Man, I miss when Morty used to stood up to Rick". Then the new episode dropped, and hey, turns out current Morty is confronting Rick again! I know they had arguments before, but that was mostly because their bond was super tense, almost broken. And in those fights, Rick always played the victim and Morty ended up feeling bad, like he was the one in the wrong. But now, in the first episode we get a clearly parallel between Morty and Evil Morty (that's a different topic I could go on about- I'll just say I think it perfectly shows why Morty would never become Evil Morty: because he loves Rick). And in the most recent one, beat the crap out of Rick for being an asshole, totally deserved.

Their behavior in this episode really made me think, it’s like Rick and Morty’s personalities are kinda... swapping places. Morty’s turning more into Rick (stronger, more assertive) and Rick’s becoming a bit more like Morty (more human, more vulnerable) But neither of them has stopped being who they are at the core.

Also, I gotta say, I love how their relationship is way more balanced now! Rick actually treats Morty with a bit more respect, and Morty’s pretty much on the same level as Rick when they go on adventures. They finally see each other as equals and treat each other like actual family (a super dysfunctional one, sure, but one that’s trying to get better). Honestly, it’s been a really nice shift. And that’s what surprises me the most.

I’ve been a fan since the beginning, and I NEVER thought they’d canonically turn their relationship into something this wholesome, because this show’s always been about tearing down traditional stuff: love, good vs evil, heroes, family, all that. But now? They’re actually giving us this slow redemption arc. Not just for Rick and Morty, but for the whole Smith family, piecing themselves back together from all the damage. Ooobviously Rick and Morty’s relationship isn’t perfect, but compared to how it all started? It’s honestly too wholesome sometimes. I used to think it’d stay toxic and abusive forever!

I just really hope that with Rick changing now, they don’t forget about Morty’s growth. Just because Rick’s evolving doesn’t mean Morty’s wounds magically disappeared. He faced his fears down in the hole, but that doesn’t mean he’s over them, he’s just living with the trauma now. (Even the line at the end of the new episode makes it super clear Morty’s still scared, or so I think.) But I'm sure they won't ignore it. We’re still seeing Rick fall into that self-pity mode, and Morty is aware of it.

I’m genuinely excited to see where they take things from here!!!

Anyway, there’s so much more I could’ve talked about, but it was 3 a.m., I was half-asleep and my body hurt all over, plus there are already tons of deep dives out there about their dynamic. What I wanted to do here was just focus on Morty’s evolution. That’s my little contribution! [:

[talenlee]

Game Pile: Why Do Trans Women Love New Vegas (Video)

Script and thumbnail below the fold!

This script is based on this original article.

Hello everyone, my name’s TalenLee, also known as the Wrath in Pride Month, and this is a video article that seeks to answer the question ‘Why do Trans Women love Fallout New Vegas so much?’ To accompany this I’m presenting a single segment speedrun of Fallout New Vegas All Sleeping Partners % as run by Tomatoanus, or as TiredTransbian called it, World’s Fastest Bisexual Trans Woman Goes on a Bender Around the Mojave. Tomatoanus did make the video but unlike in his videos, I didn’t get him to help me explain things and you really shouldn’t go bothering him to justify his relationship to things I say here just because he gave me permission to use his video. He is as best I know, very nice and doesn’t need any further guff. If you are going to go check out TomatoAnus’ work based on this video all I ask is that you

do

not

embarrass me.

I’m providing a specific Content Warning here for drugs and violence. Not that anyone clicking on a video about Fallout New Vegas would be surprised by those things. It’s just nice to do.

This is a video version of an article I wrote a bit over a year ago and if you’ve read that article you already know the thrust of what I’m going to say, but because this is going up on Youtube, I want to pre-emptively put some stuff out there that will get the snowflake crowd to petulantly comment and then piss off. Rent-lowering gunshots, as we say on Tumblr. Anyway, trans women are women and trans men are men, at least inasmuch as they want to be, and while I’m at it, all the popes are bad, even Big Poppa Pizza Pope you got now. This isn’t one of my hand-holding babymode conversations about how trans identities work, written as if I’m explaining a baseline gender studies concept to someone to afraid to look it up and do readings, this is about an extremely in-group cultural signifier. A meme. Specifically, the meme that trans women

love

Fallout New Vegas, explained in <>.

Released in 2010, Fallout New Vegas is a classic of the first-person-shooter role-playing-game genre or FPSRPG, which sounds like a file format your phone uses to save links, which sought to bring Fallout 1 and 2’s semi-open choice-driven narrative structure, into the first-person floaty Skyrim-with-guns combat in a ‘second parse’ at the – let’s politely call it – rough execution of Fallout 3. In this game you play a character called The Courier starting at the point in their story where Matthew Perry shows he won’t be there for you, then shoots you in the head, giving you an opportunity to discover and then intervene in the existing events of history with an all new, all exciting direction.

The story is a sort of noir cowboy steampunk fantasy – there’s the trappings of modern technology and post-apocalyptica, but the world that was and its infrastructure isn’t really important as much as the way it just sweeps aside a options for progress. Technology is chunky and heavy and there’s a durability to everything, where things break, but they can always be fed more technology to make them un-break. Everything has an independence to it, a scrounging, foraging, make-it-work, it’ll-do-for-now technologism all typified with a gun at your hip and your duster fluttering in the hot wind.

When it isn’t crashing.

The game has a lot of positive sentiment around it, seemingly beloved by fans and lauded by youtubers looking for long-form stuff ever since renowned solver of plagiarism problems Harris Barris Garrus dropped ‘Fallout 3 Is Garbage, And Here’s Why,’ nine years ago.

Thing is, if you’re not in the trans community, or at least not living next to it because they have all the good electronic music, you might not know that Fallout New Vegas is notorious for being a game beloved by trans women. This renown is a meme unto itself, a joke about being into Fallout New Vegas being a gateway to the experience of being a trans woman.

Now, I position myself as both an investigator of games, and I also serve what I think is a valuable purpose which is being up to several trans people’s token cis friend. This lets me return from the hidden city then explain their mystic secrets to the normies, in the hopes that you won’t ask them annoying questions.I thought, equipped with this understanding, I could, this Pride Month, explain why all trans women love Fallout New Vegas:

They don’t, largely.

Oh, sure, there are trans women who are fans of Fallout New Vegas. A bunch of them! And they tend to describe ideas in Fallout New Vegas that excite them, it tends to be things like:

I get to shoot Matthew Perry in the face.

The story is all constructed such that everyone’s story is somehow ensnared with the dam.

There is a meaningful dialectic between Caesar’s Legion and his own ideology.

You can do drugs and shoot baddies.

Cazadors are amazing.

The courier has a backstory, has a meaningful life and narrative that you have to reconstruct through play.

Cazadors suck.

The final building is exciting and beautiful and engaging.

Spurs go Jingle Jingle

The idea that the Las Vegas strip is the kind of thing that survives our worst and is darkly funny and what we deserve.

There’s an anti-nuclear thread running throughout the whole story.

There’s more. When I compose a list of this kind of thing reflecting on feedback, I’m typically trying to collapse together similar responses, and there really isn’t a lot of commonality between these unless you start to get really broad. And when you get that broad, what it tends to come down to is:

It’s an enjoyable game and I find it engaging.

What’s more there’s some feedback I got that doesn’t match the feedback given. Now, I did ask explicitly only to trans readers to respond to this question, so I have assumed that everyone who responded did, but normally, when I ask a question like ‘what’s something about this game that excites you’ and you find a way to structure your answer to be a dunk on the question or complaining about something unrelated, I think of that as not answering the question and not being helpful.

But still, in the sense of completeness we also got:

The game is buggy and I don’t like it

The game didn’t leave an impression on me

I’ve never played the game

And okay, was this what you were expecting? These are all pretty distinct opinions, some fine enough to be about individual mobs in the game, some are about the story structure, some are about vibes of the space, and some are uuuh just about the sheer enjoyment you can get out of shooting racists while high off your face.

Every explanation I’ve heard from trans people about why they personally like Fallout New Vegas has been specifically about liking the game as a game. Not as a piece of Trans Media, something in the canon from some sort of Trans Authority. It’s not even a game with a blatant expression of Trans Rights – you can turn the lens of this game pretty easily to see it making fun of ‘man in a dress’ narratives, if you want. You can play the whole game and never find the character I’m referencing here, which means it’s obviously way less prominent than Cazadores or the Dam or Nuclear Bombs.

This is the middle of the video, and a natural break between its two major thesese, so, in honour of the runner TomatoAnus here, I’d like to say, as he would, that I hope you’re doing well. If you’re not, then please remember, as always, that there is a tomorrow and that no feeling is final.

No matter what’s going on, it cannot take that away from you. How you’re feeling does not define you, and I do know that it feels like what’s going on is all there will ever be. But that isn’t the case. It happens little by little, so small you likely won’t notice day-to-day, but someday in the future you’ll be able to look back and see how far you’ve come.

You’ll see that where you’re at now, well, it’s just that. Where you are, rather than who you are. There is so much more to you than how you’re feeling, and you’re so much stronger than you realize.

Please keep that in mind.

Back to the point about the idea of Fallout New Vegas as a game that has a particular following amongst trans women. See, I think the idea that trans women love Fallout New Vegas is a great opportunity to explain what we call a kind of floating signifier.

A floating signifier is a term for ‘a reference without a referent.’ That is, it’s a term that doesn’t have a specific, actual thing it’s referring to. The easiest example I can point to is money. While we’re probably all familiar with money, there’s nothing that money represents that actually exists. Bills and coins and bank balances all reference money, but those aren’t money; money is a system, a shared fiction that we all accept exists. If everyone tomorrow decided to not partake in the shared, communal idea of money, then nothing disappears – there’s no Money Creature that starves because it’s not getting any fairy dust or belief or something.

That’s not to say a floating signifier is a meaningless term. It’s more like an empty box that we primarily understand because of the things we have put into that box. Even if that box is full of things that doesn’t mean the box has any inherent qualities of its own. When we talk about an elephant for example, elephants are things that exist outside of our human heads, so we can go check and see if an elephant is something. On the other hand, there are a host of very normal human social experiences that we need to refer to for one another, but which have no basis outside of the shared fictional space of Humans Talk About This Thing.

(Like Gender, for example.)

Lots of people like Fallout New Vegas. It’s not a secret mysterious cult hit. It doesn’t need special trans significance to be a beloved game in the trans community. Coming out in the right chunk of time for a community with common interests means that of course a bunch of them would relate to it. Since the game is good, and people like to talk about this game they enjoy, and the game has modding, and the game has a shared common conversation (a discourse), that means you’re inevitably going to get The Trans People Who Like Fallout New Vegas, who talk to one another. They notice it’s a thing, they notice one another, they share common space, and in so doing, a meme forms. You might as well point out the common thread of trans women using Windows 7, because in the same general band of time they probably did.

(Not all trans women run Linux boxes.)

(I mean, of the four I immediately thought of in my friend space, they do. But not all of them.)

The meme that trans women love Fallout New Vegas is based on the meme that trans women love Fallout New Vegas. Stating the meme, sharing the meme, is not about a scientific fact, but rather it’s a matter of representing that you are aware of that meme, just like if someone’s coming up Milhouse. It’s a cultural marker, something that shows that you are in on this specific joke.

Now, I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but memes are not particularly complicated things to understand – as a discipline, that is. They’re sticky, which isn’t the same thing as clever. Sometimes people think a meme is like a punchline or an image, but really, what a meme is, is a unit of communication. A meme transmits meaning, and that meaning needs to be shareable. You might already be familiar with some memes like this, such as, y’know, words. The purpose of memes is not to be explanatory in and of themselves, but to be useful for explanation. The fancy term we use for this, in describing a network of memes with related meanings that indicate a communal space, a sort of ‘meme dialect’ that a community holds to, is the word memeplex. A memeplex can be seen as a specific set of memes you get that indicate a shared space of meaning, in almost any fandom.

(In cult studies, they call it ‘distinguishable vernacular!’)

There is another thing here.

It’s what I think of as permissive diagnostics.

The nature of being trans is often an end point of a series of conversations with the self and with others that are entirely about undoing a series of mental hurdles that are meant to stop trans people from considering themselves trans. Some folks have rock-solid ironclad long-term considerations of their gender in one way, but for some folk it’s a lot more complicated.

Maybe you think ‘I would be a trans woman, but’ or ‘I mean, if I was a trans woman I’d be unhappy because I wouldn’t be attractive’ or ‘man, I’m jealous of trans women getting to solve something so simple about themselves,’ and those thoughts are often part of this same trapping matrix of ideas. These are things that trans folk often wind up talking about, after the fact, looking back on themselves later and going, ‘wow, it was really obvious and I didn’t notice, huh?‘

And look.

Maybe there’s no special reason trans women love Fallout New Vegas, but maybe you love Fallout New Vegas because you’re a trans women. And if that sounds like incoherent nonsense to you, then don’t worry about it.

It’s not a message for or about you.

Maybe next time I’ll do a long form video on how Doom Eternal explains the way that so many trans dudes own a short-sleeved collared blue shirt with a repeating pattern of small white dots on it.

If you made it to the end of this video, thank you so much and also thank you especially to TomatoAnus who gave me permission to use this footage without knowing if I’d do a good job of this video or not. I’ve been a fan of his channel for years and even copying his scripts like this as a bit is a reminder of how thoughtfully put together his work is and the level of attention to detail he takes in delivering excellent explainers.

If Fallout New Vegas speedruns interest you at all, or speedrun explainers do, you should check out his channel, and if being trans is a thing that interests you, you should check out your local informed consent clinic, and seek out your nearby queer community because we all need to stand together these days.

And a huge thank you to my Patrons for helping make this video possible. My Patrons don’t get anything at all out of being my Patrons which is why it’s so amazing to me that they bother to spend any money to encourage me to keep doing the things I do on the internet to give them things to read and watch in the moments before the workday really kicks in and nobody notices them scrolling on their phone having a coffee.

I know that things are super uncertain right now though, so please don’t feel compelled to support.

It’s greatly appreciated but not at all necessary.

And that’s what makes you all so so special.

Thank you all, truly.

That’s all for this video though.

This was a video article about Trans Women and Fallout New Vegas and you learned the word memeplex and the term floating signifier, all told in the style of Tomatoanus. I’ve been Talen Lee, and I hope you have an above average day.

[bloodandiron-if]

How would the RO's deal with someone who is also interested in the MC and is courting them? 😏👀

⚠️ LENGTHY CONTENT INCOMING ⚠️

- - -

OPERATIVE D-6

They don’t react openly.

They won’t confront the person.

They won’t even seem bothered by their interest in you—until you really notice.

Their presence becomes quieter and sharper. They stay closer than usual, watching the other person’s movements like a threat assessment. And if that person oversteps? D-6 will place themselves between you and them without a single word, like a wall you didn’t realize was being built around you.

No theatrics. No warning. Just a shift in air pressure, and that hint of a feeling that D-6 has already decided what happens next.

- - -

DETECTIVE JUNO REYES

Juno keeps it calm.

They’ve been in worse situations than a petty romantic rivalry. But unbeknownst to themself, they’re watching the other person with that classic detective stare—measured, silent and very much judging.

They trust you to make your own choices, but if the person starts pushing boundaries? Juno’s not above a firm conversation in a quiet hallway.

“I’m not going to fight for something that’s already mine. But I’ll make sure they understand the situation very clearly.”

- - -

NICO/NIA RUSSO

Subtlety? Yeah, that’s not in their playbook.

The second somebody even thinks about showing interest in you, Russo's clocked it. Cue the eye-rolls, the deadpan jokes, the “hey, just gonna drape myself over you so they get the memo” move.

And Jealous? Please. They just have zero patience for anyone messing with their relationship—especially when they’re out here trying so hard to keep it real with you.

“Aw, that’s cute. They don’t know you’re already taken—well, mostly. Depends on how you answer, I guess.”

- - -

KIERAN/KIERA MYLES

Myles is dangerously calm.

They act amused—like the whole situation is beneath them—but there’s a quiet sharpness behind their smile around that person.

Yet, they don’t confront the other person directly. They confront you instead—gently, closely and privately in a way that they can know your thoughts on the situation and where they stand with you.

“If you want to see what they’re offering, go. I won’t stop you. But if you stay… you’ll know exactly what you’ve chosen.”

- - -

ALEX/ALEXI MONROE

Monroe gets quieter, more hesitant—not because they’re insecure, but because they’ve been here before.

They’ve seen people walk away.

They won’t beg—but you’ll feel the shift in their presence—the way their eyes drop when that person tries making moves on you, the way they hesitate before reaching for your hand.

But if you give them any sign that you’re still choosing them? That soft smile will return like sunrise.

“I’m not the only one who sees how special you are—but I really hope I’m the only one you stay with.”

- - -

ROWAN/RHEA CARTER

Carter doesn’t flinch. They’ve stared down worse threats than competition.

If someone else is trying to win you over, they welcome the challenge. Not with pettiness or showboating—but with that sense of conviction.

They'll deepen their courtship with you: clearer words, bolder gestures, and a fire in their eyes that makes it hard to ever look away.

“Let them try. I never need to outshine anyone. I just need you to feel the difference.”

[stygiansun-totaleclipse]

Love love love imposing mc. Always my go to. Yess girl be scary as shit and don't let anyone stop you from striking fear into the hearts of everyone who dares go against you or your loved ones. Helps that they're 6'5 AND wear heels (probably around 2.5-3 inches?), naturally towering over literally everyone.

I also always call them Solstice (Sol for short). This bit of info has nothing to do with my ask honestly, I just love their name and want to share it because I think its pretty.

Besides the fact that being a threat to everyone makes it easier to scare away morons, I like to think they leaned more into the threatening and imposing nature in an irrationally strong fear of losing more people they love.

Like, if they are hated by everyone and don't let anyone close, they won't get attached. They'll just going to die on them anyway. They all always do. They'll leave them once again completely broken and a part of MC is going to die with them too. MC is just gonna make it easier for both of them and make sure you either hate their entire being or are too scared of what they can do, so they won't want to get close. Because gods know MC wants to, they crave to open up and to be understood and to be seen, and so they don't fully trust themself to always keep people away. MC has to make sure that even if their wall finally fully crumbles, no one will be brave and reckless enough to step over the ruins of it.

And then there's Aurynn and Samira who stuck with them for years, by choice or not. And that fact gets them to drop the act way more often, infact it is now rarely even up when they're alone with them, and it honestly kinda scares them. If they're still alive and around, can they finally stop?.. Or will it only make it easier for death to take these two away from them? Or have their actions and words done too much damage by now that even if it wont, they would not even want to know MC? But isn't it what they've wanted? Wouldn't that be for the best of everyone?

They also just kinda get scared and confused when people do something nice for them because of it. I imagine when Samira brought them their favorite food for the first time they've just kinda went "?????????? why would you do that for me".

I think meeting L will send them into absolute confusion honestly. Like, what the fuck do they do now if being absolutely unlikable didn't work? L just gotta push MC a little bit after the initial bite (metaphorical, unfortunately or not) and MC won't bite again. At least not immediately, MC probably kinda goes at it again later but more in a spicy feral kitten type of way.

Can't even image what meeting Nihm will do to them. MC will probably just explode on the spot. Poor thing.

Yay self sabotaging your own relationships to spare yourself the pain of losing someone 👍❤️💖💕💗👌👌 Also love it with a scary stoic closed off MC—all sharp angles on the outside to keep people away bc inside they are too soft and that scares them. Don’t want to get hurt again (even tho isolating themself and making people hate them hurts too) 😔

Cant wait for Sol to meet L and Nihm then and be absolutely baffled at why their very carefully crafted unlikeable personality ain’t doing shit to stop these two who are determined to be friends (?????????). Get loved, idiot ❤️💗💖💕✨🌈🥰

Thanks for sharing your MC! I love hearing about them! :D 👍❤️💕💗💖

[pucksandpebbles]

𝒃𝒆𝒕 𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂, 𝒒𝒉⁴³ - 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑣𝑒

<<< previous part next part >>>

Bet you miss me Bet you're reminiscing I bet you hate the way that you said goodbye And you still can't even tell me why

a/n : it's hereeee! this is the penultimate part, there will be a nice chapter to finish it all off but this is basically the end of the story so thank you everyone. i was inspired by the very changeable british weather... i am sorry this is not proofread lmao, looking for a beta reader coz I'm lazy af.

thank you for all the love and support, especially on this series, you guys keep me going so remember to show this and all the other writers on here some love coz we need that in the world rn. So like, comment, reblog and hit up my inbox - I love y'all :)

wc : 2.2k

The sky outside crackled with anger, letting harsh streaks of light through the sky, followed by the ominous rumble of thunder. Quinn was curled up, alone, on his sofa, bundled in a blanket and his Canucks hoodie as outside the rain lashed his window so furiously, he thought that it might break. The weather was horrific, had been all week, long downpours of rain which left puddles outside the rink that he always managed to walk through and a gusty breeze which always seemed to put people in a bad mood - chilling them to the bone, but more importantly fucking up their hair for their walk-ins. Someone in the locker room had complained incessantly the other day that if the wind persisted he’d have to resort to the beanie as it was messing with his perfectly styled quiff. Quinn had rolled his eyes at that.

But still, the weather outside had been dampening his quickly souring mood. The whole week he’d been wallowing a little in his own grief at the end of your relationship - or whatever it was supposed to be. And now, at the end of the week, sitting alone and trying to wait out the dreadful weather outside - when if you were here you’d be passing over a warm hot chocolate, putting on a rom-com and sharing the small blanket between the two of you - made him feel shittier than usual about the situation.

Sniffling back an onslaught of emotion, Quinn took to scrolling through his phone lifelessly. He ignored the messages from his brothers, and tried to push back the thought of moping over the photos of the two of you still safely in his camera roll and instead mindlessly scrolled through his Instagram For You Page, liking photos of blondes in bikinis. But even Quinn knew that his heart wasn’t in it. He had really fucked it up. Jack might never forgive him, maybe the two of them were more alike than he thought, both managing to break the same girl’s heart.

Quinn threw himself into practice the week following your explosive break-up, there was no other choice to him. There was little to go home to and the thought of going out to the bar or finding a girl on hinge to hook-up with made him feel sick. He needed to be on top of things before the game at the end of the week, on top of his game, to get a much needed win in the bag. He’d get up earlier in the mornings, head to the rink earlier than anyone else - just get out on the ice, get himself warmed up on the cold ice and try to clear his head before any of his teammates got there. 

It didn’t work though. He’d come off the ice more frustrated with himself than before and he knew that he was being grumpier than usual in the locker room but just couldn’t manage to brush off the irritation that coated him. If his teammates in the locker room could tell, and Quinn guessed they probably could, judging by the quiet looks they kept passing each other, they kept it pretty quiet. 

He’d drive home seething, gripping his steering wheel until his knuckles turned white - he could’ve slammed his head into the horn in the centre of the wheel over and over if it meant salvation. But it wouldn’t. You and him were finished. 

“We’re so over, get out.”

“Fine, consider us done.”

Quinn knew, logically, that bottling it up, pushing it down and trying not to talk about it wasn’t going to do the situation any good. The problem was, however, that he had no-one to talk to about it. You were the one he’d go to about everything, anything, you always had an answer for it and now he was lost. 

The crackling storm outside and the blanket wrapped around his legs reminded him of the last time stormy weather had come to Vancouver. Quinn had been all in his head about an issue with one of the guys on the team, and as a Captain, was struggling to work out how to deal with him. It was driving him insane. When you’d come home, though, hair damp from the rain, you’d slid onto the sofa beside him, drink in hand and told him to spill. Then, like it was easy, provided the most life saving advice.

“You should be Captain, Jesus.” Quinn laughed, rubbing the side of your arm gently, with a playful but sincere smile which told you he half meant it.

You fell into his side, collapsing, exhausted from the long day and sighed, “Too bad I’m dreadful at hockey. Plus you are an incredible Captain Quinn, you just need to have better conviction in your words and actions.”   

Quinn missed that. You weren’t his therapist by any means, but you understood and just for a little while helped him hold some of the weight. 

Now that you were gone, Quinn felt like he might crumble under the pressure. 

Quinn scrolled past your latest post, breath quickening and chest tightening as he caught sight of your bright smile. He was utterly fucked and had nobody to talk to about it. It wasn’t a topic that he was comfortable talking about with anyone on the team, Jack would for certain kill him, it was never going to be a parent safe topic. On the other hand, there was no way that he could navigate this on his own, unless he wanted to continue to wallow for the rest of his life.

He opened up his contacts list, scrolling through dumbly, in the hopes of finding somebody. His finger stopped on ‘Lukey’.

Luke. Maybe. 

Being the youngest, Luke was still in college, enjoying college hockey at UMich which Jack had missed out on. Despite being the young one, their mum had always joked that he was the most mature around the opposite sex, and he was surprisingly grounded, could give good advice when needed. Maybe his younger brother wasn’t the best one to reach out to in this situation, but he was the only one that Quinn could reach out to.  

Quinn pressed dial on his phone, holding the device up to his ear as he lay slumped on the sofa, back slightly aching from holding the position. There was a soft click as Luke answered his phone, thousands of miles away in Newark. 

“Quinn, is everything okay?” His voice echoed through the other end.

Quinn’s voice cracked in return, “Not really, can we talk?”

There was the slight noise of some shuffling and a soft voice that Quinn couldn’t identify, probably a college roommate and then Luke replied, gentle and understanding, “Of course.”

“I’ve kinda fucked things up with a girl,” Quinn admitted, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, warning off an oncoming headache thanks to the humidity that the thunderstorm had brought.

There was a muffled chuckle over the line, “I’m sure you haven’t. You’re talking about Jack’s ex, am I right?”

“Yeah, he’s gonna kill me.”

Luke’s laugh came out clearer the second time, “Not if you fix things. She’s very amicable, and I know you well enough to know you haven’t fucked it like Jack did.”

Quinn whined, heat pulsing behind his eyes and kicking at the blanket over his feet frustratedly, “But what if I have. Lukey I just need someone to tell me what to do?”

“Come on then, spill, how did you screw it up with her?” Luke countered, voice a little muffled.

“We were just supposed to be friends, but-”

With that, Luke’s voice mellowed significantly, “Oh, shit Quinny.”

Quinn's voice pitched upwards and he writhed with annoyance, “Oh so you do think I’ve bombed it. It’s over and it’s all my fault.”

“Hey, hey come on now, I never said that.”

There was a delicate silence that hung in the air between them, the only noise being the crackle of the storm outside Quinn’s apartment and the muffled background noise over the line with Luke. Quinn tipped his head back, letting a sigh up into the humid air of his apartment and relaxing into the sofa with a mild huff.

Luke broke the silence first, “Have you tried talking to her?”

It was a sensible suggestion. Actually, it was a very sensible suggestion. How in the hell had Quinn not even considered that. Tensions were high that night, it might be a good idea anyways to smooth things over. He hadn’t even thought.

“Luke, that is genius!” Quinn whispered with excitement.

“Uh, is it? I-”

Quinn interrupted, leaping off the sofa, “Thank you, I’ve got to go. Bye!”

Luke’s voice came out distant and confused, “Oh okay, bye-”

Quinn almost rushed out of his apartment, slamming the door behind him, forgetting both his coat and his car keys until he was down by the door. It was too late then, he was a man on a mission and he was not going back for them.

In the pouring rain and the incessant thunder and lightening, Quinn ran through the darkened streets of Vancouver for god knows how long until he reached your apartment. Despite how his legs burned, despite the treacherous weather, despite his lack of preparation and the fact that he had not considered that he had practice to contend with the next day, he would not let up. He only came to a stop once he reached your apartment building, panting furiously and he stood outside the block, rainwater and sweat dripping into his eyes. He eyed the little button to ring up to your apartment wearily, reaching out hesitantly to push it with shaky fingers.

He waited for what felt like hours, but was likely only five minutes. And then you appeared, on the other side of the glass, looking at Quinn like you’d seen a ghost. You were still in your work clothes but had your head pushed back into a ponytail, like he knew you always did as soon as you got home. His heart ached in response.

Apprehensively, you approached the door, opening it and letting it swing open.

“You should come in. You’re, uh, pretty soaked through.” You said, inviting in the poor man.

As soon as Quinn was given the chance, he took it, stepping inside he drew in a deep breath, “Listen, you don’t have to hear me out, but please do, just give me a chance because I fucked up so badly earlier. I don’t care what I said before, I need you with me. We were never just friends, we were never just fucking. You were always and still are everything to me. I was so scared that if I voiced it, it would all go away, but then it did anyways and I realised that I don’t have anything to lose. I just want you back, I want you to be my girl. And if I have to get on my knees and beg I will because I think I love you and I think i’ve loved you this entire time.”

Quinn's voice was strained, raw from the running and teary - he looked a complete and utter mess as he poured out his heart.

You stepped forward, similarly drained as you spoke, “I didn’t want to have sex with anyone else. I couldn’t because they weren’t you.”

“Yeah?” Quinn smiled, stepping forward.

“Yeah.” You repeated. 

“And for the record,” You stepped forward, taking Quinn’s rain-wet face in your hands, “I think I love you too.”

Then, with utter care and precision, Quinn tilted your head upwards and pressed his lips softly to yours. The kiss was sweet and innocent and apologetic. But there, in your apartment foyer was Quinn Hughes, dripping with water, in little more than a t-shirt that clung damply to his abs and sleep shorts that had ridden up to his upper thighs during your run. When you pulled back, he pushes the wet strands of his long hair back and let out a soft sigh, and you - for lack of a better word - pounced.

Lacing your hands behind Quinn’s neck, you pulled his head down and tilted your head to kiss him. Hungrily this time, desperate. Once your lips met, it was like fire. Your movements were quick and greedy as you worked your way into his mouth.

His hands slid down your body, feeling through the thin material of your shirt and eventually cupping your ass, lifting your body upwards. You wrapped your stockinged legs around Quinn’s middle, deepening the kiss and letting out a soft moan as his hands wrapped around you.

Your bones burned with desire. Quinn had the power to ignite a fire inside you, which is what made him so special, so perfect and so right for you.

Breaking away from the kiss with a sigh, you asked, “Shall we finish this in my apartment?”

Quinn groaned in response, “God I love you.”

You buried your face in Quinn’s neck, kissing there softly and whispering gently into his ear.

“I love you too.”

[cxyotl]

idk why i cant answer the ask i got but hi anon who was asking about kierabeth!!! i just got off work. firstly i dont fw shipping discourse because i am employed and have hobbies and frankly have bigger things to concern myself with. my philosophy is honestly that if the ship doesnt hurt anyone, idgaf if you ship it or not. that said i loooove talking about kierabeth so here you go.

i personally don’t view kierabeth through their interactions alone, but by their personalities and other dialogues/scenes. from my analysis of scenes, mary-beth is not into men who are one dimensionally masculine. like micah. she finds romance in the nonconventional (drinking blood? curses? the rugged lives of crime she and her friends live? its all romantic to her, or she weaves romance i to it in her writing). i feel its safe to assume mary-beth has a lot to gain from a guy like kieran (a more three-dimensional man who can be both gentle and emotional AND tough. which i’ll get to in a second. but also a man who is a bit… different. in a lot of ways. unconventional to a T). what she gains from a relationship with a guy like kieran is… like……. connection to someone who is her type, and someone who isn’t the closed off bad-boy that people expect male outlaws to be. he’s someone who could openly tell her whats on his mind, and frankly, he’s someone who seems interested in what her interests. hell he can’t read, but he still asks her about what she’s reading and doing. because he’s genuinely interested. and i think thats something mary-beth could gain from in a relationship.

as for kieran…… you mention that if they were in a relationship, she’d be forced to baby him. i think this is a case of fanon interpretation clouding who kieran actually is. i have a few posts about this, but kieran duffy is nooooottttt a baby. is he emotional? yes. but like…….. he’s human. hell he’s been tortured and dragged this way and that his whole life. men crying doesnt mean theyre babies. it’s just like… a natural response to fear and anxiety. which kieran is full of. but kierans also one tough bitch and thats overlooked to helllll. he doesnt hesitate to kill a man for arthur. he’s on guard and ready to fight for the van der lindes when the pinkertons corner him in clemens point. hes gone through a lottt of shit and he continues to be polite and friendly as like. a choice. in the scenario where he and mary-beth DO get to end up together, i feel like he’d be the same protective and caring guy we see in clemens point specifically.

tldr. i would encourage you to look into both mary-beth and kieran’s individual characters a little deeper! theres plenty of evidence i feel makes them good candidates for a solid ship, and evidence that rockstar wanted folks to see them as a potential thing, if you dig deeper than the basic interactions they have. that said, if you still really cant see them being a thing, who cares? thats your opinion and your feelings on the characters and frankly im not gonna be mad at you for doing whatever you feel like doing when it comes to shipping or not shipping two fictional characters lol. i’m happy to talk more about kierabeth in dms or something too if you want more details ^^

[whiteraven87]

Fast Cars, Slow Burns, One Tall Austrian

> Writing this blog is cheaper than therapy — and comes with 100% more Toto Wolff <

You can find me on AO3 | Wattpad

Welcome!

This blog is a high-speed cocktail of emotions, fanfiction, and one tall Austrian man who apparently lives rent-free in my brain — and probably yours too, if you’re here.

I write Formula 1 fanfiction with a focus on character-driven drama, slow burns that could melt carbon fiber, and boardroom tension you definitely won’t see on race highlights. Expect morally grey choices, broken people, and Toto Wolff being the tall, terrifyingly composed emotional disaster we all can’t stop writing about.

There will be angst. There will be desire. There might be crying in the paddock.

And because I firmly believe storytelling isn’t just about words — I also try to make sure each story comes with its own visual vibe. I love creating graphics and playing with concepts to add that extra aesthetic layer to the narrative. Because sometimes, a picture does say what words dare not.

Grab your headset, adjust your strategy, and scroll carefully — this isn’t a safe space. It’s a Wolff trap.

Welcome to my corner of the paddock — make yourself at home.

-WhiteRaven87

Powered by chaos, caffeine and Toto Wolff’s Jawline

(It’s not my fault he speaks Polish and heartbreak fluently)

✨✨✨

Fan Fiction Masterlist [Toto WolffxOC]

The Unstoppable Series - Masterlist | slow burn | 218k | complete

The Flame that Never Fades | dark romance | 37k | complete

Fallen Time (?) | AU | Titanic x F1 | drama | tragedy | forbidden love | Toto Wolff x OC (Christian Horner daughter) | would anyone be interested in that fanfiction?

One-shot Masterlist [Toto WolffxOC]

Unspoken | melancholy | 6k | will be published on upcoming weekend

✨---✨---✨---✨---✨---✨

pairing: Toto Wolff x Miriell Joschke (Original Character, female F1 driver)

short summary: She was the first woman to conquer Formula 1 — fierce, untamed fire burning through every boundary. He was steel — forged in loss, hardened by silence, a man who lost everything he loved — until her fire reached him and made him feel alive again. Together, they are not just a love story. They are a force of nature. Truly unstoppable. A blaze that no storm could ever silence.

Series warnings: long fan fiction/series, slow burn, age gap (23 years), woman racing in F1, boss/driver relationship, difficult and painful past, death, angst, recovery after trauma and loss, love after loss, sexual tension, sex scenes, illness, pregnancy, memory lost.

full series word count: 218k

read on: AO3 - Wattpad - Tumblr

✨---✨---✨---✨---✨---✨

pairing: Toto Wolff x Victoria Lorenz (Original Character)

summary: She's young, fiery, naive and blindly in love. He's older, married, powerful and dangerously irresistible. To him, she was an obsession, an escape, a desire. To her, he was everything. The Flame that Never Fades is a story of forbidden love in the world of Formula 1, born from lust… and ending in something that can never be undone.

warnings: age gap (28 years), forbidden romance, obsession, desire, dark romance, smut, infidelity, emotional manipulation, dominant older man, angst, longing, possessiveness, emotional pain, toxic dynamics, no promise for happy ending.

word count: 37k

read on: AO3 - Wattpad - Tumblr

And more are to come!

=============

[in-my-loki-feels]

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love 💞

Also thank you to @blackbirdofasgard and @lokimobius for sending an ask as well! <3 I think I may have done something like this before so there might be repeats, but it's hard to leave some of these off when they truly are favorites.

Love What's Gone | T, 11k, Modern, no powers AU

Mobius is a group grief counselor. Loki won’t admit that he’s grieving. This is their story of healing.

A Desperate Play for Control | E, 53.9k, Avengers AU

What If... Mobius worked at S.H.I.E.L.D. when Loki invaded New York? When Loki arrives to take the Tesseract, he conscripts an additional ally to his cause, one perplexingly determined to look after his well-being. It isn’t just the scepter compelling Mobius; it’s the hollowed out, hunted look his new boss has. As the war approaches, they inevitably grow closer, but what happens when the fighting is done and there are no more orders to follow?

In A Fever Until the End | E, 10k, Cowboy AU

Three months have come and gone since the outlaw Loki Laufeyson slipped out of Sheriff Mobius’ house into the growing dawn. Mobius has just about given up hope on seeing him again when who should show up at the most inconvenient time?

Take What You Need, E, 9.6k, President Loki/Don AU

President Loki and Don are navigating the bumps in their relationship. A power-restricting collar provides an opportunity for an exploration of trust and control.

No Time For Love, Dr. Bones | T, 6.4k, President Loki/Indy Bones AU

Four times the infamous archeologist/professor Dr. Indianapolis "Indy" Bones ran from President Loki and the one time he didn’t get away.

It's always fun to revisit fics so thank you for the chance to do that! I put some thoughts behind my choices below, if anyone is curious.

No list is complete without the Avengers AU! I poured heart and soul into that one and had so much fun working with @wolfpup026 that it's going to be topping the charts for a while. 🥺💕 And of course I had to pick something from my (many) AUs because they're all dear to me. The Pres/Indy fics are so much fun to write, and cowboy Lokius make me feral! For the AU that started it all, I was torn between Let Me See You and Take What You Need (aka the collar fic), but I think I listed the former last time. Plus, I am really pleased that I was able to get through the point I was stuck on with Take What You Need and show another step in Pres and Don's ever-evolving relationship.

Then there's the grief counselor AU, a fic I never expected to write but one that continues to be a favorite of mine. It's probably the most raw thing I've written for any fandom and I was so nervous about how it would land, but I've received some incredible comments on that one that make me glad I stuck with the idea (despite always saying "I don't write angst" 🤭)