#it's clearing up a bit now which is the reason I'm able to fucking write this post

[butnobodycame627]

brain fog is the worst symptom to ever exist ever fuck this shit

[kinardsevan]

i'm coming home to you (every night)

(I have a very firm theory on where 816 will go and ofc had to write it.)

Evan wakes up in the hospital, still on a ventilator. He’s already attempting to vocalize, trying to tell anyone available to listen about the god-awful nightmare he’s just woken up from. He’d thought his first coma dream had been bad after the lightning strike, but somehow, it couldn’t even compare to the version of events he’s just woken from. A world without Bobby in his first coma dream had been terrible, but somehow, the idea of a world in which he was able to have Bobby and then lost him after the cartel had set fire to his home feels even worse. 

He tries to make noise again, his brow furrowing at the vibration of the tube in his throat irritating him enough to fill him with at least half a dozen questions. 

“Fuck, you’re awake.” 

Evan’s gaze trails up as he looks next to him where the voice had come from and sees Tommy. His eyes soften at the pilot. For the two times he’s now seen Tommy look devastated, there’s something entirely different about the way he looks today. Maybe it’s the fear, but the redness around his eyes makes it clear that he hasn’t been doing well. The bags beneath them suggest he hasn’t been sleeping either, and Evan wants to ask questions about that as well, but his current predicament is preventing that. 

Tommy brushes the back of his fingers over the side of Evan’s cheek, and the younger man leans into it, lifting his hand up to Tommy’s and interlacing their fingers. 

He doesn’t remember everything from the last time he was awake, but he’s pretty clear on the last thing Tommy said to him.

“I need to get the doctor,” Tommy tells him, sniffling. More tears are coming down his face, but the small smile on his face suggests that they’re probably of relief. Evan squeezes his fingers tighter and his smile grows a bit. “I know, baby. I’ll be right back. Stay awake for me, okay?” 

Evan nods, letting go of Tommy’s hand. The pilot crosses the room and opens the door, only to return a few seconds later, tailed by a physician, Maddie, and Chimney. 

“Thank God,” Maddie states tearfully. She’s wearing a mask and gloves, which is mildly concerning to Evan, but her bump is a quick reminder to the fact that she’s pregnant and it’s not just her at risk of any room she enters. 

He points at her as he looks up at the doctor, his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“We’re just taking extra precautions,” Chimney explains. 

“There’s no reason to assume that you’re still contagious,” Tommy adds. 

The physician that accompanied into them into the room does a quick check of Evan’s vitals and the various machines he’s attached to before opening his chart on the tablet in his hands. 

“You’re doing much better than you have been, Mr. Buckley,” the man explains. “Your oxygen saturation was pretty low when you came in, and we’re working on weaning you off the ventilator as your sats have continued to rise back up. We should have it out in the next day or so.” 

Evan nods at the man before his attention is back on Tommy and Maddie. When she reaches the side of his bed, he rests his hand over her stomach, feeling the firm pressure of his nephew’s kicking. His fever dream nightmare hadn’t just had Bobby dying in the housefire. It was also a version of the world where the woman who kidnapped Maddie got away with her actions due to Athena’s inability to deal with losing Bobby. 

“How’s his fever,” Maddie asks as the doctor runs the temporal thermometer across his forehead. It takes a few seconds, but the machine beeps and he lifts it. 

“Still hovering just under 102, but it’s a marked improvement even from earlier today,” the man answers. 

“But the half-life of the virus-..” 

“Was about twenty-four hours,” he answers her. “He stopped being contagious before he got here.” 

Maddie, Tommy, and Chimney all nod at the doctor’s explanation, and he turns back toward his tablet. He makes notes in it and then promises to have regular check-ins before leaving the room. Tommy settles into the chair beside him while Maddie squeezes the hand still resting over her stomach lightly. 

“We were worried about you,” she tells Evan. He looks up at her with sad eyes, wanting to tell her that she shouldn’t worry—that it’s not good for the baby—but he knows it wouldn’t do any good. 

Evan turns his head toward Tommy and then looks back at his sister, using his free hand to point at the pilot. Maddie snorts. 

“I tried. He refused to leave,” she comments. Evan looks back at the pilot, scowling at him. 

“Evan, you literally passed out in my arms,” Tommy tells him, his voice gruff. “I wasn’t-….I couldn’t.” 

There are so many responses to the end of that statement that he knows the pilot isn’t saying. Couldn’t leave you behind. Couldn’t be without you. Couldn’t let ‘I love you’ be the last thing said between us. 

He lifts his free hand to Tommy’s cheek, staring up at him as the pilot looks back at him. He brushes his thumb against Tommy’s lips, vaguely aware of the fact that their helipad kiss could’ve put the pilot at risk after he’d spent an entire day trying to survive hijackers with a live virus in his helicopter. All of Athena’s work could’ve been for nothing. 

The pilot stares back at him, his eyes shiny with tears unshed—maybe tears he’s too exhausted to give at this point—but there’s a knowing between the two of them as Evan stares at him. Tommy turns his head and kisses Evan’s palm as the younger man blinks wearily at him, clearly starting to fight keeping his eyes open. 

“Baby you’re out of the woods, but you’re still very sick,” the pilot murmurs as he leans forward toward the bed, resting his arms on the edge of it. “Please rest.” Evan’s thumb moves against his cheek as he stares back at the pilot, only having his gaze to communicate begging the other man to do the same. Tommy just smiles wearily at him. 

Eventually, Evan’s eyes slip shut, and they don’t open again. 

“Buckaroo, you need to stay calm,” Athena says from beside him as they wait by the elevator to the helipad. “Raising your heart rate is only going to make the infection spread faster.” 

He knows that. He’s well aware of the fact that whatever these people managed to smuggle out of CalTech’s labs and somehow infect him with on a timeline; that if he’s not careful, he could expire before Tommy and Bobby bring the antidote to save him. 

Still, Tommy and Bobby risked their lives to get this antidote. They’re still risking their lives by trying to stop those involved from creating a full-on outbreak of another pandemic, and he just… he needs Tommy to know. 

The helicopter grows closer—close enough that he can practically feel the whipping from the rotor blades in his bones as it lowers down, until the helicopter is finally down on the helipad, and then the machine is whirring down as Tommy turns it off. 

When he and Bobby finally emerge from the bird, all bets are off. He takes off in their direction, and by the time he and Tommy reach each other in the middle, the pilot’s arms are already ready for him, quickly wrapping around him as Evan’s go tight around his neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he mutters into Tommy’s neck. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I never meant it.” 

“I know,” Tommy murmurs into his ear, holding him closely. “I’m sorry, too. I should’ve stayed, both times. I should’ve-..” 

“I love you,” Evan says, leaning back enough to look at Tommy as he cradles the pilot’s head in his hands. “I love you so much. I’ve loved you for so long now, I just-..” 

“I know,” Tommy tells him, brushing a hand down his face. “I love you too, baby.” His gaze skates down Evan’s face and then back up to his eyes. “But baby, you’re so warm. We need to get you inside.” 

“I know,” Evan answers, feeling the bone-tired weariness in his bones as the words leave his mouth. “I just- I needed to tell you. I needed you to know.” 

Tommy nods quickly, still staring down at him. “I do. I do know.” Evan pulls him into a kiss, and the pilot doesn’t stop him, kissing him back, though they both keep their mouths closed. When they part, Tommy’s eyes are on him again. “I’ve loved you since that first night in your kitchen. I’ve- Evan. Evan?!” 

. . . . .

He wakes up coughing. Monitors beep out-of-sync, loud and erratically as people funnel into the room. He’s still only half-awake and his vision is blurry at best as doctors talk to him. It all happens so quickly that one minute he’s choking, and the next, the breathing tube is out as he sucks down gulps of air as an oxygen mask is fitted over his face. 

There’s more talking, and then doctors are leaving the room, and he finally becomes aware of his surroundings again as Tommy perches on the edge of the bed, looking down at him as his fingers brush across Evan’s cheek. He looks as though he’s gotten some sleep as well, if his eyes are anything to go by, although Evan doesn’t think that the chair beside his bed is the best option. 

He takes a few seconds to remember the feeling of saliva in his mouth, inhaling and exhaling in deep breaths still as he looks up at Tommy. 

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he rasps when he finds his words. 

“What do you mean,” Tommy asks, still staring down at him. 

“Could’ve killed you,” Evan answers, bringing his hand up against Tommy’s on his cheek. “The infection-..” 

“Had run its course by the time we saw each other again,” Tommy answers. “I was fine.” 

“Are you sure?” Evan asks. 

Tommy nods. 

“I had a nightmare fever dream,” Evan states. “Bobby died in the fire. We broke up sooner and Gerrard still ended up at the 118 again. Eddie still left. Maddie died.” 

Tommy frowns at him. “That sounds awful.” 

“It was,” Evan murmurs. “Bobby-..” 

“Bobby’s taking some vacation days right now, but he’s been up here keeping vigil,” Tommy tells him. “He worries a lot about you.” There’s a wistful smile on his face, and Evan can’t help but be reminded of their conversation a year ago when Tommy had mentioned the jealousy of their relationship. 

“I’m glad you weren’t alone,” Evan tells him. Tommy’s gaze flits back up to his eyes and he shakes his head as a small laugh escapes him. 

“I wasn’t. There wasn’t a single moment I was here alone,” he states. If anything, I was reminded that it’s not just your crew.” 

The corner of Evan’s mouth pulls up at his words. 

“Our crew,” he murmurs back. 

“Always around when things go wrong,” Tommy adds. Evan nods. “Especially when things go wrong.” 

The younger man closes his eyes briefly, and Tommy’s fingers brush through his hair in a way he usually only does after sex, and it always puts Evan to sleep. He huffs after a minute and opens his eyes.

“Don’t wanna sleep right now,” he murmurs. “Wanna…wanna know what’s next.” 

Tommy inhales a breath, raising his eyebrows slightly. “Well, first you get better, and then you go home and get better some more.” 

“And then,” Evan asks. 

“And then we take it a day at a time,” Tommy replies. “We lay it all out on the table, and see where that takes us.” 

Evan nods. He closes his eyes again and focuses on breathing for another minute. When he speaks again, his eyes are still closed. 

“Said I didn’t know what I was ready for last year,” he murmurs. “But I do know now, and I still think that it could be with you, if you’re willing.” 

He opens his eyes, feels them getting heavy again, but he’s determined to see Tommy when the pilot answers. 

The older man smiles down at him, his fingers brushing through Evan’s curls again. 

“I’m more than interested,” he responds softly. “But for now I just want you to focus on getting better. Think you can do that for me?” 

Evan nods, lets his eyes slide shut again. He turns into Tommy’s hand once more, sighing softly when the pilot rests it against his cheek again. 

“I love you, Tommy,” he says, hardly above a whisper. 

Light fades around him, and then warm lips press into his temple. 

“I love you too, Evan Buckley,” Tommy whispers next to his ear. “So much more than I ever thought possible.” 

[talaok]

Can you write a pedro x sick!reader story, but the reader doesn't just have a little cold im talking SICK reader. Like rushing to the emergency room hurt/comfort kinda thing.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

a/n: ok first of all im incredibly sorry for the wait, genuinely im really really sorry. and secondly im not 100% sure i did what you had in mind, which makes me feel like shit even more, so if it's not, you can tell me and ill try to write it again 

"Sir I need you to calm down"

"I will as soon as you answer my questions"

"sir," the paramedic said more sternly now "I've already told you I'm not a doctor so I cannot answer your questions, now please calm down"

And he wanted to fight more and beg that woman to answer his questions because, after all, the only one he cared about was: Is she gonna be ok?

But your eyelids fluttered and the ambulance took a turn and all the sudden he couldn't talk or think or do anything anymore but take your hand in his and start a low chant of the only thing he would allow himself to think, the only thing that still made him able to breathe oxygen into his lungs:

You're gonna be okay, sweetheart, he whispered, his words verging on prayer as he squeezed your hand and watched your beautiful face pale more and more You're gonna be just fine

__ __ __

And as it turns out, his prayers were answered.

"the surgery went well, she's gonna make a full recovery"

He had no words, all he could do was smile like a fucking idiot while he passed a hand through his hair.

She's ok

She's ok

She's ok

That's all his brain was able to muster up, and then for some reason he was hugging the doctor.

"thank you" he grinned "Thank you so much doctor-" he smiled, leaning away "Can I-can I see her?"

The woman cleared her throat, clearly taken aback a bit "Yes," she nodded "she's in the first room on the left, but just so you know the anesthesia is still wearing off so-"

"yes, yes, thank you so much doctor," he couldn't wait for her to finish as he was sprinting to the room already "thank you!" he said one last time, finally opening the door to your room.

He had to stop for a moment and look at you lying on the hospital bed, looking just as perfect as ever.

She's ok

"hey" he spoke softly, approaching your bed, and seeing a smile slowly part your mouth.

"hey"

"How are you feeling?" he asked, moving some hair out of your face and letting his hand linger on your cheek

"not great"

"I'm sorry" he cooed, taking your hand in his and feeling you squeeze it as your eyes watered "What's wrong?" he panicked "Does it hurt- do I call the doctor-?"

"no" you sniffled as a tear fled your eye "I just-"

"what is it, sweetheart?"

"I was just... I was s-so scared"

"oh baby" he murmured, bringing your hand to his mouth to leave a kiss on it "I'm so sorry" he cooed "I can't even begin to imagine how scary that must have been... but hey" he offered you a soft smile as he crouched down to be at your level "you're ok now, there's nothing to worry about anymore" he promised, gently kissing your forehead "you can relax now. I'm here for you, whatever you need you just ask, ok?"

"ok" you nodded, taking a breath "thank you... for everything" you murmured, looking into his kind eyes "for this, for calling the ambulance, for being here for me... just- thank you"

He didn't know what to say, so all he did was kiss you,

"I love you" he smiled "and sugar... don't you ever think about scaring me like that again"

You couldn't help but snort at that

"oh so this is about you then?" you joked

"damn right it is" he laughed in that way he could only do with you "they were about to have to assist two people in that ambulance," he said jokingly (although it was the truth) "and I think I was annoying one of the paramedics so much that I was about to get thrown out"

"oh no what did you do?"

"let's not think about that now," he said, the smile on his lips not able to go away from the first second he saw you

"Baby..." you tilted your head, scolding him silently

"I've brought you a kit-kat" he smiled that smile of his that made you forget what you were talking about every single time 

"You did?" it was as if your eyes sparkled

"Of course" he nodded, handing you the candy bar "I'm not sure you can eat it, we're gonna have to ask the doctor, but I wanted you to have something you liked when you woke up"

Your eyes watered again, but this time, for an entirely different reason

"I love you" you whispered

"I love you more, sweetheart"

[covetyou]

the best of you, honey, belongs to me

part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3 ⋆ part 4 ⋆ part 5

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) chapter warnings: dub con, unprotected P in V, oral (f receiving), creampie, choking, spanking, mild praise kink, potential assault, derogatory names (slut), drug reference, unspecified age gap. word count: 5.5k chapter summary: Joel Miller is an asshole. An asshole and a liar. Right?

A/N: HOLY SHIT I DID IT I FINISHED SOMETHING. I did it Ma!

Thank you all so much for sticking with me this month. Your support has been silly lovely and I genuinely love you all a little bit.

Ty to @iamasaddie and @jupiter-soups for being the first people to cheer me on from the sidelines. You both made me excited about my own writing, which feels weird but I'm very grateful to you.

I hope you like it, thank you, goodbye, see you soon, I love you.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

song: NFWMB by Hozier

Joel Miller was a massive fucking liar, you'd realized.

You probably would have been able to guess that before, but as you were stood here, back pushed against a brick wall in an alleyway, it was clear as day.

You'd been dragged down here by two men - a small rat like one and a taller one with a mean look on his face - and thrown against the wall. Your back smarted, and you tried to reason with them, but they were tugging at your clothes and threatening you before you could think of anything useful to say.

They were torn off you as quick as they were on you.

And now, heavy fists were pounding into them, beating into their faces and stomachs as they slouched pathetically against the brick opposite. Joel had found you, somehow noticed in a crowd of people that you were suddenly gone. He had someone with him, they looked similar enough that they could have been family, and both were beating into the men that had dragged you down the alley.

A yelled threat and the two men were hobbling away, beaten and bloody and holding onto themselves in their retreat.

"You okay?"

You're looking at Joel, so it takes a second to register that the other man is addressing you. You slowly turn to him - definitely related - and nod. You're stunned and a little winded more than anything.

Joel is flexing his fist, staring daggers at you. His companion doesn't say another word to you, but you hear him talk in hushed tones to Joel, before Joel mutters something back to him and he walks away.

You should probably be more scared of being alone down an alley with Joel Miller than the other two guys but, though it confuses you, you feel safer than ever. He'd protected you, saved you, and that's how you knew that Joel Miller was a fucking liar.

"C'mon," he growls to you, walking away and expecting you to follow. Of course, you follow, even through the low lying anger and frustration that's still simmering in your belly.

As you walk behind, you watch as he clenches his fist and flexes his hands over and over. Before you know it you're outside his apartment block, being roughly dragged up the stairs by a heavy hand on your arm, dragged down a corridor and deposited in front of his front door. He doesn't look at you as he fishes his key out from an inner pocket on his coat.

"Saw you fuckin' lookin' at me, I told you not to do that shit," he says angrily, throwing you into his apartment and slamming the door closed behind you.

"They hurt you?" You shake your head. "They touch you?" You shake your head again.

His nostrils flair. You can almost hear the bones in his hands creak from how hard he's clenching his fists.

And so you poke the fucking bear again, because what is there to lose. You'd spent all week mulling it over, getting angrier and angrier as you talked yourself in circles. He didn't like you and you definitely didn't like him. You didn't want to kiss him, but also you did. Neither of you cared, but maybe both of you did. Everything was feeling like a lie and all you wanted was the truth. So you poke, bracing yourself for impact.

"You're a liar," you whisper, pulling at the sleeves of your coat.

His eyes immediately snap to yours, and he's making quick work of the distance between you. He's toe to toe with you when he stops, looking down at you, fists still firmly clenched at his sides.

"What did you fuckin' say to me?"

You swallow before you speak again, meek as a mouse but a fire in your belly. "You're a liar. You said you wouldn't look out for me."

"S'that why you kept lookin'? S'that why you got yourself in trouble? To prove some fuckin' point?"

You frown at him - it hadn't been intentional. You were glaring at him when they grabbed you, stuffing a gloved hand over your mouth to keep your scream from being heard. The people around you didn't care, didn't stop what they were doing or go for help. They just left you. But Joel came anyway.

"You think I asked for that?" you say, trying to keep your voice from cracking. You never have and never will cry in front of this man, not like this anyway. You watch as his mouth curls to sneer at you, the fire turning into a sick feeling bubbling up through your belly as you watch his lip raise.

You don't know what comes over you, but you push at his chest, wanting to touch him and get him away from you in equal measure. It takes him by surprise, the force of your push making him stumble back.

You both stare at each other, unmoving for a beat, both shocked that you'd dare to touch him let alone push him. You think maybe you should run, get away before he gets you, but your reactions are slower than his, and you're raising your arms to protect yourself as he makes one big stride over to you.

The blow doesn't come.

He's pulling at your coat, jerking it down your arms, before tugging at the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. It gets caught, and you hear a tear as it catches on your arm, but he keeps pulling anyway. The fabric splits from your body, tattered and ruined as it's discarded on the floor.

"You think I would fuckin' hit you?" he says angrily as he tugs at the rest of your clothes. "You think I would fuckin' hurt you in any way you don't want?"

You have no time to answer before he's manhandling you again, pushing you roughly into his room.

He pushes you forward onto his bed, bending you over and holding you there as he reaches around and tugs at your zipper. You fight to stand, but the weight of his hand keeps you in place as he pulls your pants and panties down in one, leaving them around your knees so you can't run to escape even if you wanted to. Any thought that you could, should, run is already gone. You don't want to, not any more. Whatever he wants to do, whatever anger he has for you, you want it. You want to feel his anger, you want it to burn into yours until you combust.

A hand claps down on your ass and you feel the sting ripple up your back. He wanted that one to hurt, and it did. Another sharp slap hits your other cheek soon after, the sting of pain made worse by your cold skin, but you're glad for it because you wanted that one to hurt too.

Both his hands rub across your cheeks, drawing a groan from you as he massages them and soothes the sting before rough fingers pull you apart. He always did like looking.

He wastes no time in plunging his wet tongue into your pussy from behind, Joel's hands yanking your pants down the to your feet to spread you open further for him. "You're fuckin' dripping," he says between breaths as you push back into his face.

"You this wet from those guys?" You don't answer, so he slaps a hand down on your ass again.

"Fuckin' answer me."

"N-no. M'not wet from them."

"Then why," he says, breathing deeply as he devours your pussy, the cold of his nose tickling your hole as the scruff on his jaw scratches at your inner thighs. "Tell me. Tell me why this needy fuckin' pussy is so wet."

"Because of you," you push your face down into his bed, biting at his sheets as his tongue swipes over your clit, already so sensitive your legs are shaking. You arch your back, exposing more of your cunt to his relentless tongue. There's no question or thread of shame in your mind why you like this - why you're already so close to coming undone just from him being an asshole and playing with your pussy.

"Me, huh? Little hole's desperate for me? Look at her cryin' out to be stuffed full, drippin' all over the place."

You couldn't help the drip of slick from your cunt, or the way his words always worked to make it worse. You knew you were a mess, but by now you knew he liked it, even if he taunted you for it. You felt how his grasping hands got firmer, saw as his cock got harder, just at the sight of your glistening pussy.

Two of his thick fingers are pushing into you, the cold feel of them startling you as they slide home. You'd spent a week thinking of his fist buried in your cunt, but his fingers still felt so thick, so much, plunged into your dripping wet heat as they were.

"If you make a mess on my sheets I'll rub your fuckin' nose in it. Act like an animal I'll treat you like one."

If you were an animal, he was fucking feral - a snarling, growling, feral animal of a man that you just couldn't resist.

His fingers curl, dragging against your walls harshly as his tongue slides against your clit again, swirling around the stretched rim where his fingers are embedded in you, tasting you, before slurping at your clit once more. You grind your hips back against his face, trying to get more friction on your clit as he fucks you with his fingers. They're warmed now, the burning heat from your cunt drawing the chill from his bones.

The wet squelch in your cunt is obscene as he laps at your clit, drawing you so close already, your feet still tangled in your pants and your moans muffled by the push of your face into his sheets.

Joel's fingers are gone just as your orgasm starts to raise its head over the horizon, ruining any high you were so close to getting. You slam your fist down on the bed in frustration, ignoring his gruff laugh as you muffle your fuck into his bed. His knees crack as he stands, undoing his belt and pulling his cock from his pants. He doesn't stroke himself, he doesn't need to, he just squeezes himself at the base, lines himself up with your hole and pushes forward.

A strangled moan pulls from your chest as he sheathes himself, pulling your hips back flush with his as his cock impales you in one movement.

"Fuck, if this pussy don't just love this dick."

He draws back slowly, pulling any slick from your cunt back with him, coating himself in you, before slamming back to the hilt.

"Uhh, f-fuck."

You feel him draw back again, holding himself back from you, tip barely inside your cunt, teasing himself at your entrance. Before he can, you push back onto his cock, taking him in with a deep moan.

He stifles a groan, fingers digging into your hips, pinching the flesh in his grip. You try to move, to fuck yourself on his length, but his grip won't let you. You can feel him throb inside you, and you hope he's already close to coming, that he wants you that much he can barely hold himself back.

The thought is gone as soon as he starts pulling back again and thrusting forward quickly, repeatedly slamming his hips into your ass and pulling you back onto him. The sharp slap of his hips and wet squelches of your pussy are muffled only by your moans and Joel's shaky breathing.

"Tell me - you fuck anyone else - like this," you say through staccato gasps as his cock collides with your cervix. "If you say you do - I'll know - you're even more of a - fucking liar."

He throws you forward, pulling out and standing glaring down at you when you twist to look at him, finally able to kick your pants and shoes off your feet.

"You think you're special?" he growls. You take him in, his massive figure stood there still clothed, cock hanging lewdly from his pants and covered in your slick. You want to lick it, taste your own pussy on his cock and catch the drip of precum from his tip before it's wasted.

"No. I'm not. And neither are you," you spread your legs as you say it, willing him to come back, to start fucking you again, but not daring to ask for it. "You're an asshole. I just like that you make me feel good."

"Feeling's mutual, sweetheart." He's pouncing on you before you can process it, yanking his shirt over his head before pulling your spread thighs across his clothed ones, notching at your entrance and sliding straight back in.

You thud back down onto the bed with the force of his cock fucking into you, staring up at him with an open mouth, panting as he starts to cant into you once again. His hands are holding your thighs against his as he rocks so deeply into you you think you can see your lower belly pulse with each movement.

His hands slide down your thighs, pulling you apart where his cock joined with you, swiping a thumb up the slick gathered there and rubbing it around your clit in rough circles. You reach down, hand trying to meet his and hold him there, but he swats you away. You move further instead, grabbing at the waistband of his pants and tugging down, slipping them over his ass before he's pushing you back again. Your fingers drag across his abdomen as you fall back again, watching a shudder crawl through him with the graze of your fingertips.

You try not to smile when his hand falls from you and shimmies his pants further down his legs, over his knees and kicking them off the end of the bed whilst still buried in you. You can see all of him again now, his broad shoulders, dark nipples, the trail of hair down to his cock where it disappears inside you. His thick thighs, spread almost as lewdly as yours, dusted in hair, the muscles flexing with each rock into you. He doesn't look at you as you drink him in, eyes focused on your cunt as he pulls you back open.

He spits down onto your clit. You whine when it collides with your skin and starts to trickle down your spread pussy. You whine again when his thumb draws it up and around your clit, massaging it into you, each swipe of his thumb jerking your swollen nub and bringing you closer to coming undone as he pounds you hard into his mattress.

You throw your head back with the feeling of it all, moaning loudly into the open room.

"You'd let me do anythin' to you, huh."

"Yeah," you admit, head still thrown back and eyes closed. You would, you couldn't even say why, just that you knew you would. That for all the pain at the end of the world, this was a pain that was worth it, a stretch that made you ache in the right ways, the sting of his palm that electrified you, made you feel alive.

"You're just beggin' for me to slap your pussy pink again, ain't you? Fill that pretty little asshole up with my cum. Wear you like a fuckin' glove." He's growling, muttering obscene things to you, things you both know to be true. "You'd let me fuck you anyway I want, even share you with whoever I want."

You nod, stupidly bobbing your head along with the rhythm of him sliding into you.

"This pussy is mine," he growls. "Say it."

"Yours!" you pant, you didn't want it to be anyone elses any more, what was the point when he'd ruined you for anyone else. "M'yours!" Fuck.

"All o' you? That's more than I even asked for sweetheart."

And he's falling forward over you, hands planting either side of your head for leverage as he pounds into you harder than he ever has, abandoning your clit just as you were about to fall apart underneath him yet again. Any words to correct yourself are gone as you groan, pulling your brows together and watching him. His face relaxes and contorts over and over, sweat beads at his temples. You know his hair would feel damp if only you would reached up to touch it.

He shifts to his elbows, the sweat from his chest and belly mingling with yours, making your bodies slick as they slide together. You watch his mouth open as he pants, the heat of his breath on your face cooling the sweat dripping down your neck. You can smell him, see every imperfection of his skin in such detail that you're struck dumb, angry, and desperate all in one swoop. Something so close still feels so far away, and a frustrated sob is bubbling from you before you can stop it.

Something inside you snaps with that. You'd be chasing it for weeks, denied something you hadn't even dared to ask for.

You grab him by the throat as his hips roll into you, gasping out a breath before you grit your teeth and say it, forcing him to look directly at you.

"Fucking kiss me."

He laughs in your face and you fight down the shame for even daring to ask for something you wanted, something you deserved. "Is that what you want?"

You nod, squeezing his throat beneath your fingertips.

He pulls back from you - you want to claw at him and hold him to you but he pushes your hand against his throat with his own. He looks down between you, your pussy creaming around his cock and swollen clit twitching with each thrust.

You tighten the grip on the sides of his throat, feeling the hard thud of blood through his veins at your fingertips, drawing his eyes back to yours.

"Fuck, that's it, sweetheart."

He suddenly throws your arm down from his neck, pinning both if your hands down as he puts his weight on top of you.

"That what you want?" he grits out. "That what you keep coming back for? Thought you were whoring yourself out for pills, not a fuckin' kiss. Are you that fuckin' desperate?"

He's goading you, you know he is. Still, you want to scream at him, but his face is close to yours now, so terrifyingly close you could kiss him by accident if you weren't careful. Suddenly you're terrified of it, desperate but terrified.

His aquiline nose slides up the side of your face, and you stop breathing. "You want this?"

"Please." You'll be angry at yourself for begging later, right now you'd say anything if it meant he'd finally give it to you.

He drags his nose across your face, rubs his nose against yours. He's practically still inside you now, the shallow rock of his hips the only movement either of you are making. "You sure?"

"Please," you whisper again, breath ghosting across his lips. You try not to move your mouth too much, barely muttering the word in case your mouth touches his. His own breath huffs against your mouth, teasing you with the taste of him.

"S'all you want, huh?"

"Mm." He's so close you don't trust yourself to speak.

His nose nuzzles into yours, the hair on his face tickling at your sensitive top lip. Then you feel it, the bow of his top lip swiping against yours, not kissing just feeling.

You're frozen, terrified to move, terrified to feel what you've been desperate for for months.

But you made it through the worst days at the end of the world. What was fear any more except another lie.

You press your lips forward, done with waiting, done with being patient, done with putting others first. You want it so badly that finally, finally, you take it.

At the first press of your lips to his, he releases your wrists, sliding his hand down the curve of your body to hold you to him. You moan into his mouth, blinking back angry tears as you wrap your own hand around his neck to pull him in further. At first he doesn't move against you, letting you kiss the soft swell of his mouth, but when you slip your tongue against his bottom lip and breathe him in, his mouth opens and his lips press to yours, giving back everything you're taking.

"This all you wanted this whole time?" he whispers against your mouth.

"Not all I wanted," you mumble. Your eyes are closed, head dizzy from breathing so deeply, from finally doing the thing you'd literally only dreamed of.

"No?"

"No," you swallow before continuing, the shame of admission gone now. What shame could there even be when it was so obvious. You open your eyes just as you speak. "I wanted all of it."

"Yeah?" You think from the look on his face that he needed to hear it as much as you needed to say it, so you kiss him again, just because you can.

He presses his hips into you harder, making you gasp straight into his mouth, the sharp pressure of his cock so much with the fuzzy high in your head. He does it again, kissing you of his own volition this time and swallowing your moan down as he starts fucking you again, one hand settling in your hair as the other wanders your body. You can still taste the salty sweetness of your own pussy on his mouth as you lick into him.

Your own hand dances with his over your body, teasing your own nipples and stroking down, down, until you push your hand between your bodies and feel between your legs. You're a mess, sweat and the wetness from your pussy merged together to create a slip and slide of slick as he slides his cock into your tender hole. You stroke at the base of him and feel another shudder work its way through his body before you move your hand back to yourself, circling your own clit as he rocks his length into you.

"You gonna make yourself come on my cock?" he says, looking down where your hand strokes at your clit. You nod, lips brushing his, capturing him in another kiss as you moan, so close already.

"Good fuckin' girl. You rub that pretty pussy. She just fuckin' loves this dick." True.

His cock in your pussy, his hands in your hair, holding your body, your own hand strumming your clit with well practiced movements, the feeling of his lips on your own. It's all so much so quickly, everything you've been craving for so long, that the fire in your body burns so bright it explodes out of every pore before you can hold it off.

"F-fuck, Joeeel."

You come with a cry, every part of your body shuddering and convulsing, hand twitching over your own cunt as you desperately try to keep the high going as long as you can, until you're so sensitive all you can do is grip your own thigh, your nails creating half moons in the soft flesh.

"You're all mine, huh?" he says gently, still inside you now as he feels your walls pulse and twitch around him. You nod, floating from his kisses and your own high. "No one else gonna touch this pussy. S'all mine."

"S'yours."

"Needy, needy, pussy," he grunts into your mouth, as your cunt quivers around him, an aftershock pulled from you at just his words and the rasp of his coarse hair against your clit.

It hits you then, for all he called you needy you never actually asked for what you wanted, what you needed. You never took it either. Not until now. But he always did.

"I think you're just as needy as I am," you whisper.

He clicks his tongue and cocks his head. "I never said I wasn't, sweetheart."

A quick shuffle of his knees later he's pounding into you with abandon, your cunt had barely stopped throbbing by the time he started again.

"Ohhhh, god."

You don't move to kiss him again, he's chasing whatever high he needs now and you let him take it, back arching, moaning as he pounds away, cock slipping inside you with ease. The hand in your hair pulls harder, tugging your head back. You think this is going to be it, he's going to come inside you like this, but then wet kisses are being peppered across your neck and collar bone, his moans sounding more like those of a common whore than his usual grunts.

You want to come again already, so you grip him tight, hands roaming from your body to his arms, his shoulders. Your nails claw at him, pulling him closer and pushing him away, trying to tear him apart with your bare hands as he fucks you.

He moves quicker still, head buried in the crook of your neck as he holds onto you and slams home over and over. You think he's almost there - hope he is because how much more screaming can your voice take before it breaks - when he's yanking your hair again. His mouth latches to your own in a sloppy kiss, tongue fighting with yours and his cock squelching into the wet heat of your pussy as he comes undone, groaning into your mouth, shuddering, fucking ropes of thick cum into your empty cunt and never stilling for a second.

His hips stop bucking against yours before his mouth does. He kisses you softer, groaning, slowing down to catch his breath before he finally removes his lips from yours with a shuddering gasp, screwing his eyes shut.

Cum practically gushes out of you when he pulls out, and you expect him to get up and leave like he has every time before. He doesn't. Instead, he rests his head next to yours, kissing your shoulder, the warmth of his body encasing yours.

Your face finds his, nudging against his jaw. He shifts, letting you in, and your mouth finds his again. You kiss him until you turn to liquid, sighing deeply and tracing soft patterns on his skin and your own with your fingertips.

Eventually, he releases your hair, and you think the moment is truly over. But then he rolls over, flopping down next to you, the weight of him dipping the mattress and making you shift closer to his side. He closes his eyes, putting an arm behind his head, and you take the chance to look down at his naked body, his cock now soft between his legs.

The feeling that bubbles up through you rips out of your mouth in a laugh. Joel's eyes fly open, finding yours, making you laugh harder. Tears are falling from your eyes - the absurdity of it all too much to bear. So angry at him, at yourself, for weeks now. Wanting something for so long, something that it turns out you could have just reached out and grabbed. Driving yourself near mad over wanting to be touched in a way you thought he never would, when maybe all along he thought you never wanted it. You're left with nothing but small giggles and an aching belly by the time the feeling bubbles out of you completely.

You wonder how all of this must look to him. How small and naive you must look, just a silly girl giggling in his bed. If he thinks it, he doesn't voice it. He just shakes his head softly and raises an eyebrow at you, as if to ask if you're done.

You lie next to each other in silence after that. He doesn't tell you to leave, and you don't move to either. You just lie there, arms barely touching, sweat drying and cooling both of your bodies.

You'd always been okay with silence, more often than not finding yourself with nothing to say, especially these days. But something in this moment tells you to speak, and so you do, filling the silence with your own voice before the opportunity can be taken from you.

"Thanks for helping me out there," you start softly. "I know you said you wouldn't, and I'm not trying to prove a point I just... Thank you. I was looking at you. I couldn't help it. I've been... angry. At you, yeah, but mostly myself. So I was looking, but I didn't realize it was that much, I swear and I -"

"S'okay," he stops your ramble so simply and quickly you frown, an involuntary tut falls of your mouth. He casts a glance over to you, almost chastising as he continues. "Ain't lyin' when I say it though. You gotta stop lookin' at me. I really can't be lookin' out for you, just got lucky this time. There's assholes bigger than me out there."

"Doubt it," you scoff. He raises an eyebrow and runs his tongue along his teeth, daring you to say more. You don't.

You fiddle with the sheets between you, biting at your cheek and bottom lip, so much more to say but the words just ending up jumbled in your head.

"I wasn't lying either. When I said I want it. All of it." That's a start, you figure.

"You don't want me. I could be anyone."

"Maybe I don't. Never said I did. I just know that I want whatever this is," you gesture between the two of you. Whatever had started as a transaction was clearly more than that now. You enjoyed the feel of him, the way he touched you and talked to you. You enjoyed the escape of it all. It was nice to know another person in the world knew you were there, that you existed, cared about you in some way, even if it was only enough to make sure you came. "Sex was never really any good with anyone else anyway."

"I've got other people I have arrangements with. I've got Tess, I've got -"

"I know. That doesn't matter. I'm not asking you to change. I don't want anything to change. I just want..." you trail off, shrugging. "I just want this for me. I don't care what it is for you, as long as it's good too."

He looks at you, taking you in with curious eyes, working out if what you're saying is true. If really, in this moment here and now, you want this exactly as it is. "I can do that."

You think that he gets it, understands it all more than you could ever explain. The thought of that alone is more comforting than any touch he could give you. It could have been a sweet moment, if that's what you two were. But it's not, and still he ruins it anyway.

"Pussy really is no one else's but mine, huh?" There's an edge to his voice that tells you he's holding back a laugh, and you could fucking hit him.

This time, you do. You relish in the oof that leaves his body as your hand collides with the side of his chest. He catches your wrist before you can land another soft blow, your skin prickling in his firm grip. You know from the feel of his hand and the look in his eye that you'll fuck him again before you leave his apartment today.

It only takes a few minutes for you to prove yourself right. You climb on top of him all soft curves and bouncing tits, hair a mess, face scrunched and jaw relaxed as you ride him, kissing him as much as you've ever wanted. Even when your legs ache, when he starts fucking up into you with each bounce of your hips, you carry on, wanting to take from him again and have him fill you.

He never tells you to leave, but eventually you get up, putting your clothes on, tucking your torn t-shirt around you. You expect your dad will be wondering where you've got to soon.

Joel sits and watches you dress until you're stood fully clothed, looking at him lying nude on his bed, a total contrast to what happened in this room just a week ago.

You think for a moment, waiting as he gets up and walks with you back through his apartment. You take in the last few hours. The last week. The last few months of knowing Joel Miller.

"Joel?"

"Mm."

You look him up and down as you stand in front of his door, still naked as the day he was born. "You're a massive slut, you know that, right?"

He laughs. Full bellied, head back, laughs.

"Takes one to know one, sweetheart," he says with a smirk, winking as he unlatches the front door.

You kiss Joel again as you leave his apartment. He can't stop you now, and you don't think he would ever even try.

tag list: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @noisynightmarepoetry @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

[queerian]

in response to the call for discussion on stone identities

prompted by last week's stream with @drdemonprince and @testdevice

this post is about sex and it's very personal! feel free to ignore if very personal essays about sex from your internet friends or strangers is not your idea of a good time

What does sex look like for you, and what brings you the most pleasure or gratification from it?

It starts with a sensory warmup. My partner touches me gently and slowly in a way that wakes my body up to pleasure. I do not get aroused without either being touched this way or thinking about some extremely specific niche freak kink shit. I tend to be nonverbal during sex, unless I need to break "scene" and communicate something specific purposefully, but sometimes it's hard for me to find my words again. Even without speaking I am very expressive. My partner can tell from my reactions when an escalation would be enjoyable. They use their hands and toys. They are very good with their hands, and we have a LOT of toys and other paraphernalia. I had never had an orgasm, at all, in my life, til we did things this way. It is an intense physical pleasure extended to far longer than I can manage by myself during solo activities, sometimes for hours. It allows me to stop my over-analytical thinking brain for a while and sink into sensation and feeling and being in my body, which most of the time I feel disconnected from (thanks alexithymia!) or troubled by. I do think of it as a somewhat meditative state. This kind of sex is also extremely collaborative and intimate. There is a huge amount of trust and being "in tune" with each other.

Is your stone identity related to sensory issues, neurodivergence, or trauma?

All three! I was never coerced into sex by individual partners, but "sex positive" culture (if you were with me you'd see the face I make while doing the scare quotes) has been coercive enough to traumatize me into believing that I am a bad person if I don't "give as good as I get" and that I'm a terrible person if I don't want to reciprocate stimulation in sex. I've been working on this one for years. It still has its claws in me.

Sensory issues make certain sex activities unpleasant or not enjoyable for me, and I appreciate now being able to choose to not do them. For example open mouth kissing. I like kissing skin in some body places, I like having some of my body parts kissed, but I do not like sharing saliva or breath. I've always been very picky about what goes in my mouth for sensory reasons, and that's not just a sex thing. On the other hand, other kinds of sensory stimulation in sex can be extremely pleasurable for me. I also tend to keep my eyes closed the entire time (I avoid eye contact at the best of times but in sex it's uhhhhhh even more Too Intense) and this lets me sink into other sensory experiences more intensely.

The neurodivergence bit I think is pretty clear from everything else I've said in this piece of writing.

How did you figure out you were stone?

I once turned to aceness as a way of trying to validate myself at the same time as problematizing my own lack of "appropriate" desire. "It is it wrong of me to not want to touch someone's genitals, whatever they may be, to not want to get them off, to not even let them get themselves off using my body, and it's wrong of me to not desire them carnally, to not be obsessed with and fulfilled by them romantically. Thus, I must be ace and aro, because that means it's okay to not want all that sometimes or all the time."

I've come to call myself a "stone bottom" in a deliberate effort of self-acceptance and self-validation. I was long aware of the idea of a stone top, a touch-me-not, someone who derives pleasure and gratification from getting her/their partners off but does not want to be fucked or gotten off. I don't recall seeing anyone else identify as a stone bottom, but as a mirror image of a stone top it makes perfect sense to me: someone who derives pleasure and gratification from being gotten off, from being touched or fucked, but does not want to get their partners off. I think I've only ever seen that called "selfish" unless it was in a power exchange scenario and part of dominance and submission.

Are you a gay man who identifies as stone, or a stone bottom, or some other identity that's less often talked about?

I'm non-binary/agender and generally perceived by society as a woman. I have a vagina. I've only ever had sex with people who have penises. I feel like it's pretty unusual for me to be a person with a vagina having sex with a person who has a penis and the penis is not involved at all in the sex. With previous partners, it's not just that it was expected that at some point they would be sticking it in me, it's that I never got to opt out of someone else using me, even gently, lovingly, and with attention to my pleasure. See aforementioned cultural trauma, lol. Reciprocation simply was not something I could abstain from without being a Grade A Asshole. Back then, I didn't even "actively want to not reciprocate". I wanted to be "good, giving, and game", like Dan Savage wrote you should be in his column that I read in my hunger to know more about sex and be having it a "correct, right" way. I wasn't yearning to be a stone bottom. I didn't know that was even an option. I didn't know it was possible to be a pillow princess and to have a partner that enjoyed this kind of sex, for it not to be a chore or imposition on them, and for this kind of sex to be a mutual sharing of intimacy.

Plenty of people buck the stereotypical straight cis sex scenario of "man (penis haver) does a little "foreplay" for the woman (vagina haver) to get her ready for the main event (penis in vagina), which they do til he ejaculates, and if she's lucky he'll eat her out or rub her clit and she might also get an orgasm." There's a thriving counter-culture where "reciprocal sexual gratification" is emphasized, all sorts of books and guides and tips and porn showing how important it is that "she comes first" or whatever, but most of it still centres around the point that "reciprocity is essential to not being an asshole". If he's an asshole for not appropriately tending to her pleasure, surely she would be, too, for ignoring his. And I really, really strongly internalized the belief that if I am not reciprocating, I am an unforgivable asshole. There's something, too, about the lack of "balance" that has long made me feel morally incorrect. (Points again at the neurodivergence.)

Is it a struggle to get partners to respect it?

I have not dated much, and I have not fucked much, mostly because I did not want to do either of those things enough to do less interesting or more tiresome things in order to achieve sex or dating. I also rarely experience what I'll call "sufficiently motivating attraction". I currently identify as nebulously "somewhere" on the asexual and aromantic spectra, and this is inseparable from the stone bottom/pillow princess situation. All of this is also wrapped up in my one ongoing relationship with my partner. I honestly don't know how differently things would be with another partner. I suspect I have facets that come out in different contexts, in response to different people and my feelings about them. What I do know with confidence is that my partner respects me, understands me quite well, and we communicate openly and frequently about things. I trust that if they have an issue with the current situation, they'll bring it up and we can talk about it and work on things. I trust that every time we have sex, they're initiating because they want to just as I can decline if and when I want to. I particularly appreciate the fact that I don't have to be an object of desire. That they can enjoy making me feel good, and it's not about "having" me. The very fact that someone just wants to make me feel good, over and over again, is pretty mind-blowing.

[prince-liest]

I just wanna gush bc omg I love the 666 series so much. I think it made me realize I might be... furry-ish? adjacent? I just find it so satisfying how you go into detail about the unique body features of both of them, the way it feels to have deer ears or kiss a TV and just generally how much thought is put into the way their bodies work, and I've realized that my interest in that kind of idea is a pretty good reason to partake in more explicitly furry media lmao. Anyways

I'm also really in love with how you maintain the balance of each of their personality traits. Vox is simultaneously so pathetic and cringefail (also your dialogue for him is perfect, I can hear it crystal clear in my head) but also he has vastly more emotional intelligence than Alastor, no doubt at least in part because he has to deal with Val, and he's able to marginally calm down with his obsession to deal with sticky situations, but even then he still retains his personality and bumbles things sometimes because of the flaws in said personality! It's great. I also really appreciate the balance you've struck with Alastor, I feel like often Alastor is either written to either soften up so immediately that it feels disconnected from his character or is written overly mean and heartless for my liking and the way you've written him is such a delicious balance between softer aspects such as the prey instincts or moments of vulnerability and his untouchable and manipulative self, and also the way this side of him is neither written as wholly a front or wholly his real nature and the complex ways this makes him struggle with his increasing vulnerability. TL;DR arghgr your characterization is so good it makes me go a little feral

Also while I'm here, I'm curious whether you can give an answer to the degree to which Alastor is touch-averse. There's obviously a lot of ways in which he fundamentally dislikes touch but it also seems like there's at least some kinds of touch where he doesn't dislike the touch itself so much as he's afraid of the way it brings about feelings of caring and/or enjoyment being cared for. I'm curious how much, in general, you would say his touch aversion comes from either cause and possibly what kinds of touch do/don't provoke those flavors of aversion

Omg, what a lovely ask to receive. Honestly, everything you said that you enjoy about how I characterize these two is very much what I've been actively gunning for, so it's an absolute delight to see it outlined back to me. Success!!! Thank you so much!

And ahaha - I'm not a furry but I fucking love inhuman characters. Being raised in the pits of Homestuck fantroll RP made me enjoy the whole "they're bug/fish aliens" thing and it definitely rears its head again any time I encounter characters with inhuman qualities. I love writing Vox's TV/computer-ness and Alastor's deer and radio bits, and integrating them into who they now are as people.

As for Alastor's touch-aversion: It's funny that you ask about this, because the next chapter of 666 is going to dive into it a bit. Specifically into the fact that it's not, like, a set of boundaries that is consistently defined, and I write him that way on purpose. The very first time he and Vox sleep together, Alastor bottoms. He becomes significantly less amenable to touch after he goes through an uncomfortable rut cycle that gets sexual. By the time Vox convinces Alastor to fuck him, Alastor would never let Vox do that again and frankly only agrees to topping because Vox gave him an option that didn't involve getting his dick out. Then in the next episode, they're having clothes-off sexual contact. So, what gives?

Things that play into Alastor's willingness to touch and be touched as far as Vox is concerned:

How does he see Vox at that point in time? Disgustingly entitled (ew)? Hilariously beneath him (haha who cares)?

Does he care about what Vox thinks of him? Does Vox touching him draw his attention to positive or negative assumptions he has about Vox's perspective on doing so?

What value has he attached to this particular touch in the power balance of their relationship? Is he humoring Vox? Does he assume Vox thinks he's owed this? Does he perceive it as something Vox is genuinely doing for him?

Has he tried this particular kind of touch before? He's pretty willing to experiment, but that doesn't mean he'll do something twice without a compelling reason if he didn't like it the first time.

Is he getting off on this situation sexually? If so, is it fully willing (read: not a byproduct of uncomfortable hormones) on his part? That only really happens when he's in a submissive role and Vox is hitting a few very specific kinks, a major one of which is basically CNC tilted 30 degrees to the left.

Is he enjoying the touch in platonic ways? How does he feel about that? Is it a vulnerability to want something? Is it feeding his ego to be catered to? Is he worried that what he enjoys platonically is being read into in ways he doesn't like?

Is he fucking drunk? Things that bother you when sober often seem like a non-issue when you're not, both on a physical and emotional level.

How much touching has been happening recently? Has he hit his limit? Did he deliberately put himself into a situation earlier to have his limit be hit and surpassed, and now he's in the aftermath?

He does have a certain fundamental purely physical dislike of touch, but it's something that is really affected by how he perceives each individual situation as well as his relationship with Vox at that time, and his previous experiences!

[swashbucklerred]

Speaking of Kenny, it feels like he has the opposite problem in some fans' eyes? (I'm not going to pretend he isn't flawed himself, he is. But I feel like depending on how you see his perverted-ness, plays a lot on how you see him as a person. Especially in terms of morals, when it really shouldn't.)

(at this point i think i should clarify that i havent actually watched the newest episodes and am a bit behind, so if im missing anything major thats 100% on me, but i think if there was a massive 180 twist on anyones character i would have heard about it by now)

first off, lets get it out of the way: every single character in south park is flawed. i am never denying that. even wendy, who is generally the voice of reason (kyle is also the voice of reason but hes way more hot headed, while wendy tends to keep her cool a lo better) originally started off fucking insane. she flew a lesbian into the sun because the boy she liked had a crush on her! (a bit tangential, this links back to what i mentioned before about "character development vs retconning", where i think wendy being the (mostly) level headed liberal mouthpiece now is actually supposed to be retconning her earlier characterisation, especially since they were briefly using bebe as the voice of reason (bebes boobs destroy society) before switching their roles because m+t will die of 18th century diseases if forced to write a three dimensional woman)

that said, the fandom definitely has a problem where they exaggerate kennys perversion to the point hes a borderline sex criminal who should never be allowed near women (or smaller, weaker men, since people also do this when they want him to be the strong, dominant seme to his soft, submissive uke (usually butters)), when that is just not true at all

throughout the show, kenny actually treats women with respect. in tweek vs craig, he wants to be in home ec with the girls because its safer, and he never says anything to make him uncomfortable; they actually like him around, and hes only forced to stop taking home ec because the teacher thinks girls should only do girl things and boys should only do boy things. when he wants to trick or treat with the girls in the scoots, its not because he wants to hit on them, hes just lonely and wants to be friends with them. even during the ring, when he DOES want his girlfriend to have sex with him, he prioritises her comfort and happiness and agrees to the promise ring because its what she wants, and he NEVER pressured her into doing anything she didnt want to do! and in fbw, if you play as a girl, mysterion doesnt say anything pervy, he says he has the urge to protect you

the idea that kennys some sort of uncontrollable sex pest comes down to how he has an inappropriate interest in sex (he hit puberty early and his father leaves porn around the house where he can easily find it (exposing a minor to pornography is a sex crime btw just so were clear here, and if youre able to laugh it off with kenny bc hes the comic relief (and people rarely take the sexual abuse of boys seriously) then can you at least think about karen)) and he is 9 years old so he thinks grossout humour and words like "boobies" are funny, which his friends also think is funny, but kyle doesnt get saddled with the "perverted misogynist sex pest" label by the fandom

but generally, kenny is a much harder character to analyse than butters because what kenny represents is much less clear. hes not used as consistently or clearly as butters, and the writers intent is less in-your-face obvious, so we cant cross-reference how his actions relate to his archetype or what real life group hes supposed to be satirising because... he isnt really satirising a real life group. most of what we get from him was an unintentional side effect from 30 years of them using kenny for whatever and his character stacking up overtime, even when they care about him much less than they do stan and kyle (or even, like... clyde 😭)

so at the end of the day... not many interpretations of kenny are wrong, perse. but i think so many suffer by boiling him down to the "comic relief pervert" trope, with only vague references to mysterion or karen in context of "he might be a perv, but he has a good heart deep down!" as if its what justifies him not being put on a list. theres SO MUCH more to kenny if you actually dig your teeth in! you can get a LOT out of the little bits of characterisation they sprinkled in throughout the decades. he is NOT just an uncontrollable pervert, and if you want to treat him like one then no one can stop you but its so obvious where youre coming from when you make kenny some ultra macho sex pest so you can pair him with your sweet and innocent, never did anything wrong, a gust of wind could knock him over Leopold "Butters" Stotch

[thesnazzysharky]

Waffling about/reviewing the notes in SJSM because I think they're cool. 2/2

Make sure to check out part 1 before this one. Or don't. I'm not your mom.

Anyways, time to review some more notes (with a smidge of some theorizing this time)! These will be the randomly generated ones. Less lore, but more character in these.

Romantic Victim

At first this place just seemed cute, but I've been here for days now… I'm feeling quite parched now, and I keep getting this feeling like I am being watched by something. This is not romantic at all…

Starting with the hopeless romantic, we have our first set of notes that the player will encounter, so obviously the Romantic Victim is the most memorable and iconic of the note writers, for good reason too.

The first note has them growing to become skeptical of the place and feeling like they're being watched by something (perhaps Spooky or Taker) which most likely will make the player connect to them right of the bat as they'll probably experience a similar feeling as they walk through the first few rooms where nothing is happening.

The note could've ended there and it would've been a typical but not too bad left over horror note from someone who came here before you, but then you read the "this is not romantic at all..." line. A line that will confuse the player and perhaps get a chuckle out of them because, well, what the hell is "romantic" about this mansion?

Whatever the case, the player will get to collect more of these notes and follow the little journey of this strange individual that repeatedly uses the word "romantic" for some reason. Apparently when the romantic came here, they didn't seem to bring anything to drink, as their notes mention how they're constantly thirsty, to the point of drinking some of the ink they're using to write their notes.

Ink… Not quite quenching my thirst. Taste is terrible, stains are terrible. I don't think drinking it was a very romantic idea.

Later they are able to find a bottle of red wine though! Although its a bit strange how it's described as having no label on it and tasting metall- oh wait, that's fucking blood isn't it?

I don't think that was wine…

You don't say...

At this point it becomes clear that the romantic is not going to make it, especially when they later mention not coming across any of the notes they made, making them unsure if any progress is being made. And so, they leave their last note, accepting their romantic fate.

I think this is my last note. I'm going to die having never found my escape, but really that's not true. This place was like my escape. My escape from everything else. In the end my death is kind of romantic.

You can later find their corpse sitting in an elevator after this note and honestly it's kinda sad. In a game like this where you're completely alone and almost defenseless, to lose some form of company that you became attached to, even if it's just in the form of notes that were written by someone who passed long before you, is tragic. Especially with how they went out...

Then you realize the goofy ass pose that they died in lmao.

I mean, hey, they did go out in a pretty romantic way. They're straight up stylin with this snazzy ass pose! Now that's a way to go out!

We're not done with them just yet however, as they actually make a comeback in Endless Mode!

Aha! Yet again I have cheated the grave and shall proceed to escape these confines. While the thought of my death being quite romantic did cross my mind I believe my escape shall be profusely more so.

They claim they have cheated death somehow and plan to escape. Later notes mention how they suddenly feel healthy and no longer feel thirst or hunger; along with coming across the specimens, although they are no longer aggressive towards them. The eleventh note makes it clear as to what is going on.

A strange ghost girl appeared before me today in a rather upset and unromantic manner. She claims I am not doing my job and that I should report to my commanding officer immediately. I boldly stated that I have no commander as I drift wherever the wind takes me as I follow my own romantic journey. To this she acted confused and slowly sunk into the floor.

And so our pal catches a very minor case of being dead and becoming a ghost. Except they don't even realize they're dead.

I am beginning to wonder why I haven't required sustenance in what I guess has been more than two weeks. I at first theorized that tiny food particles are emitted into the air. I now know what a foolish thought that was since it is clear that I have been granted immortality as a romantic artist.

The next note mentions their skin changing, again, hinting that they're a ghost now. It also mentions that they have a romantic partner outside of the mansion and they believes that despite being a transparent ghost now, their partner will still care for them no matter what once they reunite. Not much to say on that other than I think it's quite cute, albeit a bit sad, since they don't realize they're trapped in the mansion and won't be seeing their partner anytime soon.

I noticed something strange today. My skin color has changed. I know this is probably ordinary since I haven't seen the sun in quite some time but it just came as a shock to me. But I know my romantic partner is out there and they will care for me no matter how transparent my skin becomes.

In the last note they wrote, Spooky comes to greet them once again... taking away their pen privileges once she had enough of their bullshit lol.

The ghost girl has returned and is glaring at me while I write this. She again claims I have a job here and that I'm not fulfilling it correctly. I tell her whatever job she thinks I have doesn't sound very romantic. She seems angrier now and states that if I don't stop she will take my pen privile___

Overall, I really like the Romantic Victim as a character and what they add to the game. Their simple, but still very charming character trait as a romantic makes them very memorable compared to if they were just some ordinary dude who wrote like an ordinary person; and it's because of their charm is probably why the player will end up getting attached to them despite never being able to interact with them. That said, there's some cool little details and depth with them. Such as how their first few notes are written in a dramatic and I guess fancy sort of way. Using double spacing and ellipsis to sell the affect.

But by the time they write their last note, this act and style of writing is dropped. Which actually makes this note more sad since it really shows that the romantic doesn't have the will to go on anymore.

There's also the neat detail of why they constantly use the word "romantic". They don't mean romantic as in love, but romantic as in an artistic sense; think of the Romantic Era of history for example. The notes found in Endless Mode make it more clear when they mention romanticism and how they're a romantic artist. A pretty subtle but neat joke.

I would say the notes they leave are great for beginner players as they basically tell them exactly what the tone of this game will be.

A mix between serious and unsettling horror (the romantic feeling like they're being followed, drinking ink out of desperation, and unknowingly drinking a bottle of blood) and goofy satire and comedy (the romantic using the word "romantic" in a situation that doesn't fit it and their corpse just being a cartoonish skeleton in a sexy pose).

Not to mention that the notes they leave in Endless Mode are probably the funniest notes in the whole entire game for me, especially when Spooky shows up and is baffled by their... nature.

Conclusion? They're a little confused, but they got the spirit. I hope they got to reunite with their partner at some point in the afterlife. 5/5

Tropes Victim

This place is finally starting to affect me. I've seen enough horror movies to know how to survive a simple ghost or two, but these monsters keep getting faster and stranger.

Looks like someone has caught main character syndrome. This person seems to have came here more prepared and got further than the romantic victim as they mention the specimens getting faster and stranger as they continue forward.

What makes them interesting though is that homie really thinks that just because they watched some horror movies and know typical horror cliches and tropes; they will survive due to being the "main protagonist".

Well I still haven't died so it appears I might be the protagonist, but I'm not entirely sure. I hope I'm not some side character that leaves notes for pointless exposition. Also I found a strange computer that gave descriptions of the monsters. And it seems like they are called 'effective' based on how many people they kill.

Who's gonna tell them? Anyways, the tropes victim seems to be taking a jab at the mfs who think they would survive if they were in a horror media due to knowing the tropes or thinking they would have better common sense than the victims who end up being killed. I really like it! Feels fitting to have this character in a game like this.

Something else to be said about them that I find quite funny is their second note.

In order to survive this house I need to keep writing notes. I must do everything a central protagonist would and hope this is one of those stories. 'Insert Obscure horror reference that no one gets and misinterprets as instructions somehow'

The "Insert Obscure horror reference that no one gets and misinterprets as instructions somehow" line is chuckle worthy when you first read it, but it becomes even better when you learn about what it originally said in older versions of the game.

The "tall man character" in question being a reference to Slenderman. However, some players didn't pick up on this and thought it was a genuine hint towards an enemy that could potentially be summoned by picking up too many notes. So, that lead to those players not picking up any notes and thus missing out on a big portion of the game. I feel bad for Kira. That must have been frustrating lol.

Anyways, I find tropes to be entertaining and fun. I love the self aware humor with them and they have some of the funnier notes in the game. Although I appreciate that's not all there is to them, as they do drop some hints towards what's going on with the mansion. Such as how the specimens are called effective based on how many people they kill and that the souls of the victims could be related to how effective they are as well. They also, similar to the Romantic Victim, went out pretty boldly. Completely accepting their fate as they realize they can be killed off due to not having traditional traits of a protagonist; confirming that they are indeed a side character.

It's sad to see yet another past victim lose all hope of surviving, but he does note that it was at the very least a nice experience for awhile. 5/5

Survivalist Victim

DAY 2. Food supply depleted. Water supply at 30%. Mental health deteriorating, leaving notes behind to help others and mark where I've been.

This victim's notes are on the more serious and dramatic side as they write down about each day they have been at the mansion and the steady decrease in resources and overall mental stability.

While the notes of the Romantic and Tropes Victim's have them start off doing pretty decently as they go through the mansion before their last notes shows them giving up entirely, the notes from this poor soul show how they were fucked from the start. Only 2 days and they had already ran out of food, become low on water, and their mental health is deteriorating.

Their journey doesn't become any better once they start having hallucinations and violent heart palpitations. Not to mention sleep deprivation and running low on phone battery.

They also start to question why they came to the mansion in the first place and that the hallucinations can apparently hurt them now (perhaps something to do with Specimen 5 or 7).

DAY 5. I can't remember. Why did I come here? Was there ever a purpose? I believe death is steadily approaching me now. The hallucinations can hurt me, I'm out of provisions, and I'm having sudden violent heart palpitations.

Judging by how quick they were to lose their mind, something tells me that the survivalist might have had some psychological problems similar to our protagonist and perhaps they came to the mansion for a not very happy reason...

Whatever the case, just like the previous victims, they end up writing one last note about accepting their fate. And boy does this one go hard in particular.

DAY 7. I can't tell the real from unreal anymore. My limbs refuse to move the way I want them to. I feel like I'm wading in a deep river that is always flowing against my direction. Now I will lay down and let the river flow over me. I will let it guide me to it's end. I know where I'm going anyway. This place, this entire place, is just a gyrating screaming rock in the vastness of an infinite kingdom. I'm going to rest now. I'll be watching over you.

God damn you dramatic ass mf. Going to burn the whole sheet of paper with the fire you're spitting.

On a serious note though, I like how this final note has this sense of bittersweetness with the "I'm going to rest now. I'll be watching over you." line. It's oddly comforting in a way. A nice change from the previous final notes which were just grim. A shame that most won't encounter this note on their first playthrough. It's great.

I like how these notes play it fully straight and serious, showcasing the effect the mansion itself can have on some individuals and how terrible it would be to be stuck in a mansion that seemingly never ends. As you get further into the game and encounter specimens that seem scarier and harder than the other, the change in tone with these notes feels fitting.

At first I found the Survivalist Victim to be pretty boring and not as interesting as the other previous victims, but the more I think about it, the more I start to like them and what they add to the game. 5/5

Lisa's Notes

You think you're clever don't you?

I've been watching you for a while now.

Why even bother filling your lungs?

Your blood smells so thick. I can hear the vessels oozing.

Do you feel safe?

Reading these won't help you. Only death can help you.

These are all the notes from Unknown Specimen 5's encounter. Aka Lisa.

Unlike the other unknown specimens, Lisa has a decent amount of buildup to her before she chases you. The chills that went down my spine when I first read "I've been watching you for a while now" and later kept getting more notes from faded Specimen 1's was a very memorable experience. SJSM at its best! Unfortunately these notes don't have much to them aside from being creepy and the effect they have is pretty much lost on a repeated playthrough of Endless Mode. They still leave a very good first impression though. 3/5

Child Victim

Mommy and Daddy love me very much! They told me they were throwing me a party!

And here we have the most depressing notes in the whole entire game.

This child's parents were apparently throwing a party at the mansion for some odd reason (I'll get into that later), but when the child actually goes there, their parents are nowhere to be found.

As they eat some of the cookies they were given for their "party", they wander around the mansion, confused and hearing strange noises, wondering if all of this is a game of sorts.

Later they end up falling down a hole. Hurting their leg and crying from the pain, eventually falling to sleep from exhaustion. They leave one final and ominous as hell note that states the following.

I fell asleep. My leg still hurts. I see Daddy he came for me.. It's not Daddy.

Okay. Despite these notes being very brief, there's a handful of things to say about them. First off, the child states that their parents were throwing them a party and said party took place at the mansion. Isn't that... kinda strange and suspicious? Why would these parents throw a child's party at a mansion where anyone who goes in never comes out? Even if they didn't knew about the mansion's past history for some reason, it's still pretty damn weird to throw a party at an old and seemingly long abandoned mansion. Why couldn't they just throw a party at their house? Or a relative's house? Or a friend's house? Or a picnic? Or basically any other common options to throw a party at that doesn't involve old and decrepit building's?

Considering the fact that the parents don't even show up anywhere at the "party" and the child was just given a basket of cookies and presumably not much else might imply this was done on purpose. The child states that "Mommy and Daddy love me very much!", but we don't know if that's actually true. The child could be an unreliable narrator in this case. They are a young and naive kid after all. A young and naive kid that could have had abusive or neglectful parents, but due to their young age and underdeveloped brain, they never recognized this. So what's going on here? Here's my thoughts. These supposed "parents" told their child they were going to throw a "party" for them. This wasn't an actual party. This was something to get rid of their child permanently. We don't know what events could have lead up to this, but it seems likely that these "parents" grew tired of raising their child and wanted to find a way to dispose of them. Perhaps through hearing about how those who enter into the mansion never come out or just hoping their kid gets lost, they send them to the haunted mansion on the hill. Giving the kid some cookies so they could eat and live for awhile. Hoping that they either die from starvation and thirst, get adopted by someone else, or meet some other grim fate. Whichever option worked.

So the child goes there, wandering the mansion for awhile, falls down a hole, and encounters a specimen that they at first think is their dad, but unfortunately it isn't. As for what specimen killed them, the likely answer is either Specimen 2 or 9. They're both human in appearance and I highly doubt the kid made it that far. You could say it's also possible they fell all the way down to Specimen 6's locale, but it's unlikely they would survive a fall like that.

Assuming that most of this theory is true... than holy shit! It was already depressing before, but this is 100 times worse!

Overall, I love how dark and tragic these notes are. Especially because it shows just how twisted and apathetic Spooky is by letting children just as old or younger than her die horribly in this place. Not to mention some of the ambiguity with what's going on with the parents or what specimen killed the child is great too.

Simple on the surface, but a decent amount of depth. 5/5

Spelling Errors Victim

DAy 1 I have enterd a spoopy ghost mansion. I do not know how long I will be here but I hope not too long.

Let's lighten up the mood by talking about this person who seems to have failed English class.

Similar to Survivalist Victim, this victim writes about the amount of the days they have been at the mansion.

Their first few days has them being almost completely indifferent to the mansion and its scares. Stating that a "spook" they came across wasn't as scary as they seen in some horror games; and that not having wifi was the scariest thing about the mansion. All while having some pretty bad grammar and spelling still not as atrocious and Godzilla stroke inducing as some people's grammar that I've seen on the internet, perhaps suggesting they're on the younger side, but clearly older than the Child Victim.

As they continue forward and start to run low on the cheesy curds they're eating, they state they will most likely die soon, but at least they were "hardcore" for making it pretty far on their (kinda) frightful journey.

Their last note has them die to a specimen coming closer to them in a hallway. Most likely Specimen 9.

Day 7 While I am at the end of my ropes I shall press on anyway. I have eating the last of the cheese curds and haven't found any new food. There is something down the hallway I believe. It's getting closer. OH whyyy. why has this has to happen to me?

Judging by the use of words like "spoopy" or "hardcore" and being the most concerned about not having internet instead of the literal monsters that could kill them; this person seems to have spent a lot of time on the internet. They definitely look like an irl nerd emoji behind those notes 100% lol.

At first I thought this writer's main gimmick was being indifferent to the mansion, but the spelling errors are the cherry on top and you get some pretty damn funny notes as a result. They're solely comic relief and don't have the same depth to them as the Tropes or Romantic Victim's, but I still enjoy them. 4/5

Jasper Midnight

NOTE I Dear Reader, I am known as Jasper Midnight. I appear to be trapped within a house of horrors so to speak. While at first glance I thought this was nothing more than a carnival fun house with scary pop outs and irritating ambience it has lasted quite longer than I expected. I am going to write these notes as I journey on in order to inform any unfortunate souls that follow me. Sincerely, JM

For the first time we have a victim that gives us their actual name. Or at least a nickname they're known by.

His first note has him write about how he thought the mansion was supposed to be a fun house of sorts while roaming in it, but then he realized he was trapped here. Deciding to write notes to inform any future victims. A typical start so far.

Things get more interesting however when he mentions encountering Specimen 3 in his second note. The way he describes the encounter is oddly casual and calm. Describing it to be a "glorious yet somewhat unfulfilling encounter". Sure is a weird way to describe an encounter with a spiderpede, but maybe he's just built different.

We learn in the third note and beyond that bro isn't just only unfazed by the horrors around him. He fucking loves them and this twisted mansion.

NOTE III Dear Reader, This mansion just continues to get better. I found a room today that was delightfully themed around rusted and abandoned asylums. I say 'themed' simply because it was too perfect to be real. I even found strange creatures holding onto the grated floor writhing in some sinister dance. Sincerely, JM

Damn. Guess he is built different. Especially because later notes show he actually makes it pretty far in the mansion. Encountering and surviving Specimen 8.

The rest of the notes basically show how much he genuinely loves being in the mansion. Morbidly describing it as a "nightmare without the haze of sleep or a daydream you would have while drowning" and that this journey has been "life changing" for him. Overall it seems like he enjoys all aspects of life, both the horrific and the bliss, and that is why he loves the mansion.

NOTE VI Dear Reader, The world is an ashtray, constantly burning out. It is full of hardship, turmoil, happiness, and love. And all of it is beautiful. Sincerely, JM

Unfortunately the last note has him die through unknown means. He takes like a champ as expected though.

NOTE VII Dear Reader, My life is spent, my fire snuffed. My body shakes and ejects blood. I cannot go any further though I wish I could. Continue after me and witness the beauty of the world. Witness the terrible and terrific. Sincerely, JM

The idea of someone being enthralled by the mansion was an interesting one and Jasper is a very lovable character because of it. Dude is just having the time of his life and honestly after these notes? I feel like he would be a fun and chill dude to hang with, even if he's a bit odd.

Easily one of my favorite note writers. 5/5

Spooky's Notes

Research Report #153 Through the spider portal I have come across a plethora of new horror designs for Specimen 1 as well as some new ways of recruiting soldiers. In today's dive I discovered a cluster of webs centered around short horror experiences as well as some sort of Italian cooking. I will continue to research this particular web cluster.

To my surprise, these notes are written by the silly big bad herself! Spooky!

Some very interesting notes we have here as they don't follow the traditional formula that the previous notes had. Focusing on giving us a bit of insight into Spooky's thought process and how she went about running GL Labs and constructing her plan to build her army.

The first few notes have Spooky come across a design she could use for Specimen 1. A creature called Jeff (obvious reference to Jeff the Killer) that she found through the "spider portal". Later on she tries to gain attention from the "LP people" and their viewers so she can gain more recruits, with mixed results. The last two notes mention how another house apparently already has the title "Spooky's House of Jumpscares" and so they want Spooky to change the name of her mansion. She has the funds to fight against this, but instead decides that she would rather spend the funds on noodles and scary things... of course... Quickly summarized all of that, but that's because I want to talk about the more specific details. There's some cool stuff here!

Right off the bat I love how these notes show how unknowledgeable Spooky is of the internet. Calling it a spider portal and calling websites web clusters (get it? The world wide web). Describing one of the web clusters as being "centered around short horror experiences as well as some sort of Italian cooking" (referencing creepypastas). Describing how she believes there are multiple Jeff's and some are crossbreeding with other monsters (possibly referring to AU's and OC's or maybe even ships). And describing YouTubers, specifically the gaming ones, as "LP people. She also doesn't understand the concept of spam, thinking people were genuinely referring to her advertising campaign as the canned meat product.

It's an interesting and cute addition to her character and it makes sense considering she died in the 60's. I also love how her childish side is shown in these notes in general. Girl literally stabbed one of her workers to death because they gave some minor criticism and later wanted to spend her funds on some noodles actually maybe that one is pretty fair. That part being particular because it implies that Spooky had the chance to kill the protagonist at basically any point in the base game and DLC's. She just chooses not to, which is interesting. Although I guess it has something to do with the "dying tragically enough to become a ghost" thing. Maybe outright killing her victims doesn't cut it.

The cherry on top of all this being the name change of Spooky's House of Jumpscares to Spooky's Jumpscare Mansion due to a copyright claim from some shitty mobile company having a canonical explanation in-universe.

I guess the only criticism I have is that for someone who's supposed to be 12 years old, Spooky sure does have some good grammar, descriptive language, and knows her big girl words. Although I guess it's not that hard to believe that she had plenty of time to expand on her writing and vocabulary in the few decades she has been at the mansion. So I'll let it slide. Absolute gold all around. 5/5

Vlogger

So um, I am writing notes down. I think that is the correct thing to do in this situation. I was filming the mansion for my urban exploration video channel but I think I'm trapped and I ran out of battery on my cameras hours ago.

Decided to save the most interesting for last. Here we have yet another victim. This one being an urban explorer with an interest in vlogging.

Usual deal as always with the first note. He realizes he is trapped in the mansion; the camera that he was using to film a video having long run out of batteries.

Later he comes across some elevators, but just like in the game, he has no choice but to go down. All he can do is hope that they'll stop at some point. More time passes and he encounters some Specimen 1's and is starting to run out of food and water. Pressing forward, he comes across Deer Lord's area where he grabs a particular weapon to defend himself.

Well readers, I found a greenhouse or garden area. It was pretty neat but it didn't help me much. I did find a cool Sickle thing in a 'tree'. I normally don't steal from the places I explore but I have this really uneasy vibe from this place and I want something to defend myself.

A sickle... intriguing...

Later on, he encounters more specimen locales.

Hey everyone, I wish my cameras had battery left. I found some really cool areas of this building. Some looked like a school of sorts and another might have been some kind of in house restaurant. I found some frozen (meat) there, but I'm not sure if I should attempt to eat it or not.

As he continues exploring in intrigue at first, he decides that he has had enough of the place as he thinks he's in life threatening danger now (Compared to before? More on this later...).

Okay guys, I am done with this place. As interesting as it may be I think I'm actually in life threatening danger here. I can't imagine it going on much longer and I've gone way too far down to get back up now.

Then we have this note that reveals the twist.

Well readers, I think I'm near an exit. I found another mansion like area. I feel really tired so I'm going to take a break here.

We're not done yet of course, but it looks like this vlogger fella really is the current host of Specimen 12. Making him the only human note writer that we see still alive in the game.

Moving onto the notes we find in Specimen 12, the vlogger assumes that he had finally found a resting place.

What is this? Wow, what a mansion! Inside another mansion. Maybe I've made it all the way to the end of the house. Maybe this is like a resting place or another entrance perhaps? Whatever the case, I think this is a good spot to rest.

He later becomes skeptical as he finds out the bricks and wood are just painted on and nothing inside the mansion feels real. He also claims to hear movement and voices below him, assuming them to be from other survivors.

Things go south real fast however as the third note jarringly shows our vlogger friend being paranoid and trying to hide from "him". As it turns out, this was not a resting place at all.

I can hear him coming down the hallway! I need to hide, but I don't know where. I now know this is not an exit or a resting place. It is just another specimen room! I think he's outside the door now.

At this point the vlogger has become full on paranoid now. Constantly hearing whoever his killer is despite knowing they're not there. Making him assume that the killer isn't even real but instead his own fears stalking him. They stumble around a bit before coming to this conclusion.

I have a theory. I think it's this pseudo mansion. I think it's playing with my head. I still hear him… I must find that man and kill him with the sickle I found in the forest…

Considering he's the current host now, he really did kill him... unknowingly dooming himself in the process. Now he has become Specimen 12's current host. Controlled like a puppet and forced to roam the mansion and murder anyone who enters it.

Now obviously I fucking love all of this and think it's very well done. When you're playing the base game for the first time, the twist of the killer being the one writing the notes in the locale is pretty good. However, the twist of this vlogger being the one to become Specimen 12's current host is even better! From one plot twist to another.

Now, I do want to theorize about one last thing with this victim. Something that I find interesting and odd is that the notes seem to imply that the vlogger never actually encountered any of the major specimens. What do I mean by this? Let's run things back.

Hey guys, so there are these weird pop outs that appear to be cardboard. I guess this was or is a theme ride of some kind. I just keep going down but I don't have much choice. All in all it's not that bad.

This is the third note written by the vlogger and yet it's the first time a specimen of any kind is mention or alluded to. Specimen 1 in this case. He also mentions that his experience so far is not that bad. This is strange to me for a simple reason.

The previous note has him mention going in elevators (plural) that only go down and yet judging by this note, he's only just now encountering Specimen 1. The "All in all it's not that bad." line seems to imply that he has only encountered Specimen 1 and nothing else so far. I heavily doubt he would write that if he got chased by one or more of the specimens.

Things become more odd when we get to notes 5 and 6. Where he encounters Specimen 8, 4, and 11's locales. Yet again, none of the specimens are mentioned or even alluded to.

When he gets to Deer Lord's locale, he finds the sickle, but there's no mention of Deer Lord himself or any violent deer. There's also the specific wording he uses here.

Well readers, I found a greenhouse or garden area. It was pretty neat but it didn't help me much. I did find a cool Sickle thing in a 'tree'. I normally don't steal from the places I explore but I have this really uneasy vibe from this place and I want something to defend myself.

"I normally don't steal from the places I explore but I have this uneasy vibe from this place and I want something to defend myself." So apparently the vlogger is only now getting an uneasy vibe from the place, odd, and they want something to defend himself because of it. Again, implications of not encountering any of the specimens. If he was getting chased previously, than I find it odd how he even hesitates grabbing a weapon to defend himself for even a split second. That and I feel like he would be more descriptive than just describing the mansion as "uneasy".

It's a similar deal with the other locales he encounters.

Hey everyone, I wish my cameras had battery left. I found some really cool areas of this building. Some looked like a school of sorts and another might have been some kind of in house restaurant. I found some frozen (meat) there, but I'm not sure if I should attempt to eat it or not.

Once again, the locales are there and mentioned, but not the specimens. He also describes the areas as "cool" and talks about them very casually and calmly. He even wishes his camera still had battery so he could've filmed those areas. If he was being chased or encountered any of the specimens, I doubt that he would be concerned about that. Or at the very least it wouldn't be the first thing on his mind in place of wanting to leave and survive.

Okay guys, I am done with this place. As interesting as it may be I think I'm actually in life threatening danger here. I can't imagine it going on much longer and I've gone way too far down to get back up now.

This is the note where the vlogger reaches his breaking point. Of course, he did mention clearly wanting to leave the mansion in previous notes, but here he seems 100% desperate to leave. Which is curious to me considering he seemed to be slowly warming up to the place in his previous note.

He mentions that as interesting as the mansion is, he thinks he's in life threatening danger. Keyword think. Not "I'm actually in life threatening danger here" but "I think I'm actually in life threatening danger here". Again, nothing explicit is being stated. In this case, I'm not sure if the vlogger is saying this because he's realizing he's close to dying of starvation and thirst or because he encountered something that gave him a reason to think "Oh fuck. I might actually die here."

Either way, it's interesting how throughout all these notes he hasn't mentioned any of the specimens aside from Specimen 1 and overall seems very calm and casual until this note here.

And it's not like he's just built different like the Spelling Errors Victim who was almost completely indifferent to the horrors of the mansion or Jasper who was having the time of his life. When he gets to Specimen 12 and encounters a threat that can kill him, he shows genuine fear in his writing and is clearly becoming paranoid and delusional from being in the fake mansion. He does have a certain brave side to him in some of his notes, he is a urban explorer after all, but we have no reason to believe he's completely fearless and has massive balls of steel.

I'm not 100% sure what Kira was trying to imply with all of this, but I have two explanation that makes the most sense to me. The first explanation is that some of the specimens simply weren't there yet. Assuming that there was a decent gap of time between each of the specimens being found, retrieved, and placed into the mansion, the vlogger may have been at a more or less early point of the mansion's history of gathering specimens. Meaning the mansion didn't have all 13 of the specimens.

What made me consider this theory is that all the locales that the vlogger mentions belong to the Hellgate specimens (those being 4, 8, and 11). So my thought process is that while he's coming across the locales, those specimens haven't been summoned from the Hellgate yet. The locales being there at all does suggest that GL Labs was in the process of trying to retrieve them. As the game more or less implies that the areas that some of the specimens hang around in are supposed to be a recreation of sorts to fit the specimen. For example, the mansion doesn't actually have a real school in it, but rather a recreation of one that Ringu can chill in, since a school was the environment Ringu previously roamed in.

So under this theory, the vlogger has been in the mansion for a long while. Makes sense given the current age we see him in during the base game, assuming that he was more younger while he was vlogging.

The second explanation is that he's an unreliable narrator. To give credit to this post, it's possible that the vlogger is masking his fears by writing down notes about his experience in the mansion, but not about any of the specimens or other paranormal things going on. What better way to make yourself feel better in a nightmare scenario than by writing about that nightmare scenario as if it's just a minor inconvenience?

To add to this idea, maybe he's doing this not only because he wants to hide his fears, but also because he thinks that if he'll make it out and show others the notes he has written about all the crazy shit going on in the mansion, nobody will believe him and think he's a lunatic. By writing about an unnerving but still somewhat believable experience of being stuck in a huge mansion, people would give more credit to him instead of looking down upon him. That way he can cope better overall if he were to make it out.

This could explain why the notes in Specimen 12's area are written a bit differently. He doesn't address his viewers in those notes and it seems like they're written solely for himself. Giving us a clear picture that shows us that he is truly scared of this place and the situation he's in now that he's no longer trying to hide it by acting like there's nothing going on in the mansion.

Both theories area likely possibility to me and I really like the second one because it makes Vlogger's character more complex and interesting. Especially if you take into account that the vlogger/old man is supposed to be a parallel to the protagonist. With both of them seemingly having trouble with the social "mask" or persona they present to the outside world that isn't truly who they are.

Either way, the vlogger is definitely one of the more developed note writers and I love him for that. Some great twists with some nice room for speculation. Gonna give him a six out of five. Just very interesting to me. 6/5

Conclusion

I really love the notes in this game and think they're the most underappreciated aspect of the game. It's really cool and impressive to me how Kira was able to make these notes offer some genuine horror or comedy to the game while also making each writer a bit different from one another just based on how they write. The overall lore or room for speculation they provide is also well done too. Telling you just the right amount that you need to know. Maybe not everything, but at least most of the info that is necessary. Leaving you to speculate and fill in some gaps on your own.

When I first started this, I was worried that I wouldn't have much to say about these notes, but in the end there's actually a lot more to say than I thought!

A bit tiring but still fun project this was. Thank you for reading and have a snazzy day.

[klaprisun]

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 37

She had admitted it. Out loud. To a stranger. She said I was her girlfriend, I think to myself while I lay sprawled out on my bed.

"I'm her girlfriend..." I whisper out loud, trying to make it sound real. It is so hard to grasp that I'm officially dating one of the hottest, prettiest, most stunning girls I've ever met in my life.

I roll over in bed to lay on my side. I tuck my hands under my head and stare towards my bedroom window. I have no curtains, so it's a nice clear view outside. The darkness of the outdoors is only relieved by the shine of the full moon and many stars speckled across the sky. The whole night has been replaying in my head, over and over. I've never experienced such a magical night before or one as eventful.

Sam, Abigail, and Sebastian weren't mad that we ditched their performance and understood we did what we had to do. They were just glad Haley was alright and that I gave that guy a lesson.

Nearly the whole town is scared of me and doesn't want to get on my bad side now that they heard of what I did. But, of course, I would never punch anyone unless they were deserving of it. Lots of people aren't going to even think of disagreeing with Haley if I'm around now.

The next morning, I go to do my usual routine. Water the crops, check the chickens, then the mailbox. I don't have nearly as many crops now due to it being fallen and many of my summer crops died off. I never did plant some of this season's crops, but there are a few of the things I really wanted. Plus, I don't have a lot of room on this farm anymore due to me going a bit overboard with my project. It's extended way past the point I planned for it to be. I'm going to have to invite Haley over soon before autumn ends and it all dies off.

I rush inside to write a quick note that I'll leave in Haley's mailbox sooner than later, but when I check my own mailbox, there is yet another letter from Mayor Lewis.

Dear Danny,

One week from today, we are holding the Stardew Valley Fair in the town square!

It's the biggest event of the year, drawing people from all across the country to our humble town.

If you'd like, you can set up a grange display for the event. Just bring up to 9 items that best showcase your talents. You'll be judged on the quality and diversity of your display.

The fair starts at 9 AM... don't miss it!

-Mayor Lewis

"Are you fucking kidding me. I already had a hard enough time picking out one thing for the Luau, now I have to pick nine different things? My Yoba!" I shouted defeatedly, shaking my head in exasperation. I CANNOT catch a break in this town.

But then an idea pops into my head. Last time I had Elliot, Leah, Haley, and Emily help me pick out the items...this time I should get everyone involved. It will be a cute, fun hangout that gets everyone involved and helping if they'd like to.

I ran back inside to start writing invites to put in everyone's mailbox. I have no idea who I am meant to be competing with, so I'm going to be nice and write one for everyone to start. I don't really care if I give away what items I'll be displaying, I just want to have fun and host an event for everyone to participate in. It'll kind of be like my "Thank you for welcoming me into your town" kind of thing.

After each letter has been addressed and folded neatly, I burst out my front door and set off around the town to deliver each note to everyone. My route will start up at the mountains to Robin's place first, and then I'll make my way down to Haley and Emily's place last for no particular reason.

I was up early enough that nobody was awake yet for the majority of my journey. I was able to sneak around town with no one bothering me about what I was doing thankfully. I did take long enough though that by the time I reached Haley and Emily's house, Emily was awake and answered the door when I knocked. I knew that meant Haley should be up now as well, which means I planned my timing perfectly.

"Hey Danny. What brings you here?" Emily greets me.

"I was hoping to invite you and Haley to my place tomorrow to help me gather things to display for the fair. I Invited the whole town to make it a big event, but having you guys there would make it the best," I explain.

As I was explaining, I kept trying to look behind Emily to see Haley. However, she does not make an appearance.

"We would love to go! That is such a good idea to get everyone involved. I'm sure the town would love to do something like that at your farm..."

"But?" I could sense uncertainty in Emily's voice that made me think she was going to say something contradictory.

"But Haley doesn't seem to be feeling so well today. It's hard to say if she will be feeling better tomorrow. The... uhhhh...girlhood fairy paid her a visit this morning if you catch my drift."

"Ahhh I see. Can I come in and see her, or is she not in the mood?" I awkwardly twist my fingers around, hoping Emily will say yes.

Instead, Emily just opens the door wider to let me in. I excitedly bounce my way inside and to Haley's room where I knock gently on the door.

"Emily, I told you to leave me alone for the day!" I hear her shout through the door to me.

"Um... it's actually Danny," I responded.

"Oh! Come in!" Her voice chippers up.

I push open the door to find Haley cozied up in her blankets in bed. Only her head is peaking up above the covers to see me enter.

Being a little too rough, I, for some reason, decided it would be a good idea to dive into bed with her. That causes Haley to groan and roll away from me.

"Oh I'm sorry Haley. I didn't mean to bother you," I utter sadly. "I was just wondering if you want to come over tomorrow and help pick out some display things for me for the fair next week? I invited everyone in town to make it a whole shebang, but if you aren't feeling well enough I understand." I rub my hand along her arm and then wrap her up in an embrace, making sure to put pressure on her lower stomach to help with cramps. I was also hoping my warmth will be helpful as well.

She seems to relax slightly after I do that for her, but she doesn't roll over quite yet. "I'll see how I feel tomorrow," Haley says as she starts scratching my hand that's holding her stomach gently. She takes a deep breath and leans into me.

I let her lay against me for a few minutes before giving her a kiss on her head and getting up.

"I've gotta get everything set up for tomorrow, but I really wish I could stay," I pout as I head for the door. Haley opens up her blanket, revealing a very sheer nightgown. It makes me stop in my tracks for a minute, taking in every aspect of her fine body. I start to involuntarily bite my lip and smirk as I think about staying. I snap out of it as I remember why she isn't feeling well in the first place.

"Hey, that's not fair. As tempting as it is, I'm no vampire," I chuckled as Haley sighs and tucked the blanket back around her.

"I guess I'll let you go then. I'll see you later Danny," she blows me a little kiss and goes back to wallowing in pain.

[transfemlogan]

Taking on ANXIETY: part 2

Ao3

Warning/s: crack. this is a crack fic.

Words: 1,276

Author's Note: Revy returns but this time with a crack fic inspired by me and Ashley's dms. I might write more on this topic, but maybe in a more serious matter and... longer.

Based off of two prompts: "Logan makes out with Virgil when he's feeling extremely anxious, as it's a way to calm him down" and "Logan often mistakes Virgil for a sock, assuming he's in sock form."

Fic Summary: Thomas wants to explore anxiety with Virgil, talking about even more ways to handle your anxiety and how recovery isn't always linear. Though, it seems Virgil has gotten a bit too anxious and turned back into a limp sock puppet, making talking about this even harder than it needs to be.

Thankfully, with Logan's help, they can all work together to get Virgil back to normal and even showcase some coping mechanisms along the way.

Thomas, Roman, and Patton all surrounded Logan.

"Yeah, Logan!" Patton cheered, "help Virgil out!"

"This is a very strange sight to see, guys, I'm gonna be honest," Thomas said, trying to look away but not being able to— it was like a car crash. "but... if it helps Virgil and his anxiety, then... I guess I'm all for it."

Roman sighed, frowning, "Love is love... i guess.... I wish I could have the type of love those two have.

"What the fuck is happening."

They all swung around to see Virgil standing behind them. Though his eyes weren't on any of them, but directly on the thing they were commenting on. He looked... horrified.

"Oh! Virgil, we're just watching Logan comfort Vir— ... hm." Patton trailed off, glancing over to Logan.

"Are you making out with a sock , babe?" Virgil asked, mouth agape.

Logan stared wide-eyed at Virgil, still sucking on a white sock. He looked down at himself and then back up, slowly, hesitantly... like a scared animal, almost. He gripped the ends and pulled it out.

"Oh, Virgil," Logan stated, "I thought........ were you not a sock puppet earlier..?"

"No..." Virgil eyed the sock. "I wasn't..."

"So..." Logan held up the soaking sock. "This... isn't you?"

"I'm standing right Here. How can that be me."

"Well, I just assumed—"

"Hold on," Virgil shoved his face into his hands, "You thought that sock was me?"

Thomas interjected, "We thought... You know, how you turn into a sock puppet? I thought— like, you know, when you’re anxious."

"That doesn't even LOOK like me!"

They all looked at the disgusting wet sock. On closer examination, it wasn't an all white sock, but instead a white sock with little paw prints on it.

"That's clearly Patton's sock!"

Patton squinted at it, rubbing his chin. Then he gasped, like he just discovered a secret.

"That IS my sock! I was wondering where it went!!!" Patton exclaimed, reaching for it. He bent down to tug it back over his left foot, which was sock-free. His right foot had the same matching sock. "I lost it earlier after I put it on. Silly me!"

"YOU WERE SUCKING ON PATTON'S WORN SOCK?" Virgil yelled.

"I was trying to comfort you!" Logan gasped, offended, wiping off the spit that surrounded his mouth.

"WHY DID YOU THINK THAT WOULD WORK?"

"Logan always makes out with you when you're anxious!" Roman said, defending Logan. For some reason.

"What???"

Logan, however, looked vaguely embarrassed. He couldn't look anyone in the eyes now.

"He said that every time we've caught you guys making out, it was to help your anxiety," Roman continued.

Virgil blinked.

"And you.... believed him—"

"Let's not worry too much about the specifics," Logan cleared his throat, "What's done is done. We can all forget about what happened."

"I don't think I can forget what I just saw, babe," Virgil grimaced.

Patton smiled, clasping his hands, "I'm just happy I found my lost sock!"

"Yeah.... It's soaking wet, padre, you didn't wanna wait for that to, uh... dry?" Roman frowned, stepping away from him.

Thomas stared at the sight before him, almost at a lost for words. Then he remembered:

They're still recording a video.

Thomas shook his head and stared back at the camera. "Well, now that... that's... over. Just remember that there's many different ways to handle your anxiety, some that work and others that... are a bit more strange."

"Yeah, why did we watch Logan make out with a sock for 20 minutes?" Roman asked.

"Weren't you the main one telling him to?" Thomas replied.

"That's besides the point."

"You can distract yourself or even get the metaphysical representation of your logic to make out with your anxiety, in whatever form he takes—"

"Me and Logan don't make out because I'm anxious???" Virgil held out his hands, mouth wide and eyes glancing around the room. He was flabbergasted.

"Logan and I," Logan corrected.

"You just stuck a sock down your throat, don't try and correct me."

"Can I finish my outro??? Guys, we need to stop interrupting me when I talk."

— — —

"So, what was even going on?" Virgil rose up in his usual spot, staring at Logan. Logan was also standing in his same spot, simply reading a book.

Logan pursed his lips, lowering the book. "Well.... It all started when Thomas wanted to record. He wanted to make a video about anxiety again, since you've been accepted now and wanted to showcase how recovery isnt always linear."

"Okay...?"

"In midst of all this," Logan sucked in a breath, "Roman brought up... our habits..."

"Our... habits?" Virgil raised an eyebrow.

Logan glared at him. "You know what I mean. Our hangout sessions. Our secret meetings. Our lifestyle. "

"You mean us dating? And doing normal dating things? Like... kissing?"

Logan shushed him dramatically, raising a finger to his lips.

Virgil pushed his hand away. "I'm assuming you didn't tell them that?"

Logan sighed. "Look, I panicked. I wasn't sure if you wanted me to be the one to do it and we've never talked about it. So... I told them that it was a coping mechanism."

Virgil groaned, face palming.

"But, besides that. The entire recording you— or, more accurately, we assumed you were a sock puppet. Ever since that episode, you always revert back to that when you're anxious. Roman wouldn't stop bringing it up and saying I needed to just make out with you to help you, so I could stop translating for you and—"

"Hold the fuck on," Virgil interrupted.

"What now? Please at least let me finish the explanation you so clearly desired," Logan said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms.

"You guys thought I was Patton's sock that... entire... time??? And no one said anything??? Why did you even assume that?"

"I THOUGHT it was YOU, Virgil, why is this a hard concept to understand—"

"IT DOESN'T EVEN LOOK LIKE ME? IT WASN'T EVEN TALKING."

"On the contrary," Logan started, "I was translating for you."

Virgil blinked. and then blinked again. and one more time, just in case this reality was fake.

"... You were what?"

"I was translating what the sock was saying to the rest of the sides."

Virgil looked around the room. "Was it... talking... to you?"

"For a matter of fact, Virgil, yes the sock was talking to me," Logan said aspirated, "I can communicate with socks, okay? I thought you knew that."

"I VERY MUCH DID NOT?"

"I did think that it was a bit strange because the sock did not sound anything like you and was saying very, very out of character things, but I just assumed you were super anxious! I know how you get—"

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT."

"Please, stop yelling.”

Virgil wiped his face. "Logan, this isn't making any sense. It sounds like we're in some sort of crack fic written by a semi-popular sanders sides artist and a semi-popular sanders sides editor, based off of their discord dms!"

Logan blinked at him. "Crack fic? Virgil, you are aware that neither of us do drugs, correct? Plus, i don't understand why we would, surely it wouldn't affect us the same way it affects humans—"

"Not what I meant, nerd," Virgil sighed. "I mean. This feels like a fever dream."

" I guess so... Arguably, this wouldn't have happened if I had just... told them the truth."

Virgil patted Logan on the back. One day, he'll open up with his feelings. And maybe they can actually come out about their relationship—

"Wait. Episode? You're saying Thomas recorded that whole thing?"

"Yes?" Logan fixed his glasses. "And posted."

"POSTED?"

[axcel-lucci]

Full moon

Wereleopard! Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

A/n: I'm kinda busy ATM, but even if October is done, it doesn't mean I can't write sm- also, probably last part lol

My masterlist

<== last part

It's been a few weeks since the full moon, Law was fully able to relax around (y/n) to let her see his wereleopard form. Even cuddles up to her on the bed when she's cold.

(He also demands being scratched behind the ear)

It kinda surprised his closest friends because he SWORE he would never tell you but when they visited, Law was just casually cuddling against (y/n) in his full wereleopard form as she brushed his soft fur.

"You should've told me you were this warm, hehe." (Y/n) giggled making Law groan.

"Mmm..." law grumbled before glaring at his friends, "what do you want?"

"Law. Don't be mean to your friends" she laughed softly and kisses his forehead before standing up, "please make yourselves at home, I'll make you some tea."

He huffed and crossed his arms, ascowl on his face as he watched (y/n) leave the kitchen.

"Law." Bepo called, "the pack by the south... They just had children."

"What the fuck do you want ME to do?!" Law yelled in clear disdain to the south's pack.

(Law is, and currently, the leader of the northern pack)

"Don't you understand?" Shachi muttered, "most packs need an heir they can count on...!"

"So?? I'm literally just 26."

"Look... I mean having an heir isn't exactly important, but think about it. An heir is just as important as the leader itself in a pack, only the northern pack has no heir!" Penguin reasoned, "you already got married, which is a good thing, the only thing we now need is an heir"

"I still don't see what's wrong with not having an heir." Law rolled his eyes before shushing his friends when (y/n) had entered the room

"Here is your tea..." She muttered while placing the tray of hot steaming tea pot and some tea cups on the coffee table along with some biscuits she knows his friends love

"Thank you... (Y/n)" he smiled softly as he kinda turned back to his human form and kissed her, "though... Can you give us some space for a bit? We need to talk about something important"

"Oh it's alright, I was planning to do some gardening anyways. My roses are the biggest this year..." She smiled, "just call me if you need me, alright?"

"Thanks..."

She soon walked out of the room to do her gardening.

"Now, is the heir really necessary?? I don't think it is..." Law huffed

"It isn't but... It puts the pack at ease that if something were to happen, whic we hope not, were to happen to you... There's already an heir ready to... You know... Take your role." Penguin explains further

"Especially now that the eastern pack is growing more and more aggressive..." Bepo muttered

"What? Aggressive?? That leader has always been calm" Law muttered

"Hmm..." Shachi thinks to himself for a while, "I did hear from somewhere that the Pack's leader dumped him right after he proposed... Maybe that sent him into a spiral?"

"It would happen... But... For now, get a feel of the eastern pack. I'm sure he'll calm down eventually... What about the western? They've been awfully quiet, especially since their leader is... How do I say this..." Law hummed to himself

"... Rowdy?" Shachi raised a brow, "don't worry... That leader is just busy training his young one. The young one turns 6 this year."

"Is that so...?"

"And the kid is like... Really cute!" Bepo cooed.

Law groaned, "is that all you want to tell me?"

"Oh? Well..." Penguin grinned, "there's a news somewhere that, Sora, warrior of the sea, is getting another book."

"Wait... Really?" Law said with wide eyes

"Hell yeah! I'm so excited! This book apparently focuses on Sora as a person not as a warrior" Shachi cheered whole munching on some cookies.

(Yes, these four gossip a lot over tea and biscuits)

After their visit, Law helped (y/n) wash the dishes.

"I love what you did with the roses, honey" Law smiled as he looked out into the backyard, now decorated with different coloured roses.

"Awww thanks sweetie! So, what did you and the boys talked about? I bet it's Sora again. Huh?" She laughed softly.

"Oh you bet" Law grinned and started to tell her what was said in the gossip.

She listened intently with small laughs and giggles here and there, responding with some questions about this and that, just... Listening to him until they finish cleaning up.

"... Yeah. And I remember, Sora was inspired by the creator's sister, who's name is also Sora and like..." Law hummed, "the creator said that his sister has always been brave growing up. Isn't that amazing??"

Law followed (y/n) up the stairs to their bedroom

"Oh? That's quite cute actually..." She smiled before sitting him down on the bed with a serious look, "Law... I need to tell you something... I don't know what your reaction would be but..." She muttered, "wait here."

She went to their bathroom that was connected to their bedroom.

Law just sat there, wondering what she wanted to say. She then came out with something behind her back, looking rather excited.

"What's that?" He said while trying to peak.

She giggled at his attempts before calming him down and showing him a positive pregnancy test.

"I'm pregnant..." She shyly said.

Law was in shock, more because he thought he was playing it safe, "oh wait... The full moon..." He thought

He just grabbed her waist and pulled her close gently before pressing a kiss on her abdomen and placing his head against her, "fuck... I don't know how to express how happy I am..." He groaned

She laughed and ruffled his hair, "it's alright... At least now I know you liked the news"

"Liked... Liked?? I LOVED it!" He smiled before hugging her tightly.

She just laughed even louder until he stood up and kissed her.

"Alright, you LOVED it." She smiled at him and he smiled back.

"I love you..." He muttered before kissing her forehead

"I love you too..."

But the he remembered something, "wait... What if... My child has the same curse as me...?"

"Law..." She cupped his face

"I..."

Law wasn't always a wereleopard, Law used to be a happy little boy in his small village until a couple of ruffians, that he now realized was a really mean pack, terrorised his village and unfortunately killed his parents but cursed him and his sister, sadly, his sister didn't survive the curse...

Law didn't even notice himself crying until soothing hands were wiping away his tears and a smooth voice coaxing him to calm down.

"Come now..." (Y/n) smiled as she pulled Law unto the bed.

He immediately buried his face in her chest and his arms around her waist tightly, silently curing against her at the sudden pull from memory train.

"Ahh... It's okay... It's okay, I'm here..." She soothes him while running her fingers through his inky black strands.

"Thank you..." He finally muttered once he had calmed down, "I don't know what I would be without you" he smiled up at her Smas she smiled down at him.

She only chuckled softly and kisses his forehead, "let's arrange this tomorrow? Good thing you're off from work for a week."

He nods with a smile.

5 months later, Law finds himself craving for something.

Though he knew (y/n) was pregnant, and a bump was already showing, he can't help himself at full moon.

While she helps him all the time, her hand wasn't simply enough.

Especially now that a bump is showing and it is said in her ultrasound that she might have twins or triplets, it'll be harder for her to reach him.

"(Y/n)..." He muttered, his body as hot as a furnace and trembling at any motion, his tail stood on end, his fur wa slightly sticky with sweat, his pupils were blown wide with arousal.

"Hm? Oh dear..." She gasped when she rubbed his cheeks, making him pur, "you're in heat... Again? I thought it only happens in the full moon?"

"It... It does but... It's not enough... I'm sorry, but I want to feel you. Touch you... Taste you with my mouth... Please... Is there anyway...?" Law practically begs her with such pleading eyes.

She hummed softly, "u-uhm... I don't know if it's alright but... You know... I have two holes..." She shyly suggested with a deep blush, "ah-! Forget it! It's embarrassing...!"

"Wait... No, it's alright. I like that idea...!" Law grinned mischievously before slowly approaching her

"Ah-ah." She smiled at him making him pause, "wipe the table and help me clean the house first, just some vacuuming and mopping will do."

"I should've known..." He mumbled

"Hehe."

...

"Is it alright if I clean up first...?" She asked with a small smile as he nodded

"It's alright."

She kissed his forehead softly before going to the bathroom.

Law pulled out the necessary "tools" he'd need which is simply just lube.

He waited patiently (and excitedly) on the bed until she was finished.

She came out of the bathroom in only her underwear, highlighting her belly bump slightly.

"I hope this is alright as well...?" She asked as soon as Law got up and kissed her deeply.

"It's sexy..." He muttered before snapping off her bra and throwing it away, "they're growing nicely for the baby."

He smirked slightly before playing with her tits.

"Law..." She laughed before gasping when he carried her to the bed and gently placing her down.

He then crawled to be on top of her, his hand drawing soft circles on her belly.

Law was currently in his wereleopard form, it made (y/n) wonder... Since his physique changed, would there be a chance that his thing grew a little? The thought had her squirming

"Thinking unholy thoughts, aren't we?" He smirked making her blush deeply.

"J-just do it already... I'm waiting." She pouted

"So am I..."

He soon removed her panties and throwing them somewhere before lifting one of her legs to his shoulders and coating his free hand with lube.

"This might feel weird..." He warned before rubbing the outside of her back hole making her whine.

"Law..." She moaned softly before gasping in pleasure when he slipped a finger inside, he started thrusting his finger inside slowly until he changed his pace, adding another and another until he stretched her out so well and coated her, inside and out, with lube.

"There... I hope it doesn't hurt" he smiled before coating himself with some lube as well and pumping it, coating his dick with some shiny lube.

(Y/n) can't help but stare and "observe". His member sure is bigger and has more veins than his usual one, she's not complaining though.

"Here goes..."

She whined slightly when he pressed his tip against her hole before slowly but surely pushed in with slightly ease.

It stung for a moment until pleasure kicked in, he was stretching her other hole up deliciously until he was all the way inside with a groan.

"So tight... Warm..." He growled almost animalistic while he waited for her to adjust.

By now, he had both her knees up to his shoulders, his hands on her hips, grinding her against him softly.

"L-law...! Please..!" She gasped before unconsciously clenching against him with a moan.

He groaned before lacing his fingers against hers and pinned them on the bed, his other free hand then gripped her waist before starting to thrust into her.

At first, his pace was kept to a medium, eliciting small moans and gasps from her until he could feel his animal side break and turn her to her hands and knees before thrusting deep inside.

She howled moans as he kept slamming himself in and out of her sorry little ass like the animal that was controlling him. He leaned over and hugged her real tight, a hand on her belly as he continued to thrust inside her

"L-law...! Ah- so... S-so good!" She moaned loudly.

Her moans were enough to fuel him more into a rougher state, thrusting in and out of her mercilessly. Like an animal in deep heat.

She kept moaning loudly that she feared her neighbors would hear, but that thought was thrown out the window once he hit a special spot inside her making her newly and drool with pleasure, "l-law...! Right there!" She moaned some more before he started abusing the spot.

"Law...! I-i cant-" she gasped when she feels herself start to tighten up into a warm recoil before releasing intensely with a moan.

He growled loudly and fastening his pace, roughing it up more, until he felt her squeeze the life out of his dick. He growled lowly into her ear and thrusted deeply inside her to spray her insides with his sticky cum.

Thrusting a few more, to make sure she drinks every single bit of him, he pulled out slowly and helped her get settled on the bed.

Law could still see his own cum leak out of her slowly as she panted heavily

"Much better..." He muttered before cuddling against (y/n) with his soft fur being her pillow

"That... Wasn't so bad..." She panted softly and hugging him

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

She shook her head before going to sleep.

[raelle-writing]

I’ve been seeing so many complaints about Jin not having enough backstory and that he’s too flat, and I’m curious to know your thoughts. I personally think he’s very developed and believe that a character should be able to stand by their current actions without needing flashbacks to explain them.

We know that he is a kind and gentle person who held (and still holds) idealistic notions, and that he effed up real bad with taking the video, and has been feeling guilty and haunted ever since. We know that he develops feelings deeply for people but always makes sure that they reciprocate. We know that he doesn’t like uncertainty when emotions are involved and wants clear communication and has a bit of a jealous streak. We know that when placed in physically dangerous situations, he will jump in immediately to defend and help people. We know that he loves photography and honestly a lot can be explained by his having an artistic soul.

I guess a recent example I’ve seen of a character that’s very developed with absolutely no flashback backstory is Tong’s character Hong from ManSuang. Obviously very different context and character but I loved how much we knew about his essence as a character and person without needing scenes about his childhood and how he grew up.

Anyway sorry for the length, and thank you for your wonderful DFF thoughts and analyses!

Thank you for sending this ask 💕 I've been thinking a lot about this too, honestly. I have some mixed, complex thoughts lol so let me try and explain them.

Firstly, I agree with you that we get a lot of Jin throughout his actions. I fully disagree with people who say that Jin is flat, or that he doesn't have impact on the narrative, or that he's a side character. Jin's always been a very central main piece of the plot. He's the everyman, reacting to the bullying the way most average people would. Acting selfishly and selflessly by turns. He's the catalyst that drove them into the woods. He's the only person who feels guilt and carries the weight of the past (among the bullies). He tries to be a good person, and fucks up bad by turns.

And as you said, we get tons of personality from Jin throughout his actions. He's naive and idealistic. He associates sex and feelings strongly. He falls hard and fast. He lives in a large house but clearly has no one checking on him when he comes home late or brings a boy over to stay the night. He shows signs of emotional neglect and unhealthy attachments. He has fits of anger which lead him to do bad things he feels awful about for years afterwards.

He calls himself a coward but when faced with a weapon he jumps in front of it to try and protect his friends.

There are a lot of shadows to his character that paint a full picture, to me. I don't find his character to be flat at all, in fact Jin is still one of my favorite characters because of all of this.

However, I do understand why people are disappointed. Because while we do see large pieces of Jin's character, when you compare him to characters like Non and Tee, where we see their home lives and motivations in detail, Jin definitely looks flat in comparison. I was also hoping that we'd get insight into Jin's home life and learn why he is the way he is, like we did with some of the others. And we didn't (and won't) get that. And that's definitely disappointing.

Especially since today, in a Space on Twitter, Sammon said she regrets not writing Jin in more detail and she views that as a failing. I think that's one reason people are being so negative about Jin's character right now.

BUT, I personally think people are entirely overblowing it all. Jin is a very interesting, complex, gray, sympathetic character in so many ways, even if we don't get that extra layer of depth. Especially given that one of the reasons we have less of Jin is because he does less terrible shit within the narrative as some of the others, I'm a bit 🤷🏻‍♀️ about it all.

Anyway! Thanks again for the ask, it was a good excuse for me to actually formulate my thoughts!

[cookinguptales]

ooooh love that 4 am chronic illness venting

sometimes I think the worst part about having a chronic illness is accepting that, in many ways, it will never be as good as it is now. I can be in awful pain, I can be exhausted, I can be barely functional at work and I still know things are only going to get worse. like. god. if I'm this bad at 34 how the fuck am I going to be when I'm 50?

I couldn't even get through one film festival. my hormones have been acting up since I got back to Philly, probably brought on by all the travel and stress about work, and I spent a solid two weeks with my ribs and hips dislocating and the first three days at the festival were just me being in so much pain that I would go to the restroom and cry between movies.

that's what having a good time apparently looks like these days!

and then my ribs start calming down just in time for a heat wave. 85 degrees. god knows I can't go out in that anymore, because this body can't do fucking anything right. okay, fine, whatever. then my period finally comes a week early, seems about par for the course with whatever the fuck is going on this month, and the endometriosis is so bad that I could barely get out of bed yesterday, much less make it to center city.

so in the end, I have so far made it to 4 of the 10 days of the festival, and I don't have much hope about the last two. I have to come to terms with the fact, now, that maybe I can't even handle film festivals anymore. I can't handle going into the city and sitting in a dark room for a week now???

I feel like I've wasted all this money on something I was really excited about, because I used to really love going to the film festival. but have we devolved to the point where I can't even do this anymore?

like I know that this month is irregular, for several reasons, but I can never depend on a month to be regular anymore! I can't plan a trip three months in advance because I don't even know how I'm going to be three days in advance anymore! do I just give up on making plans in the future? do I give up on looking forward to fucking anything anymore?

and I know that the mood swings are part and parcel of having pmdd (I had ~three~ panic attacks yesterday) but also like. god. at a certain point how can you handle balancing work and trying to have fun while your rib is literally sticking out of your fucking back. you can feel it! when you touch! my back!

and at what point does a mental breakdown become inevitable, dealing with that kind of pain? when you're also dealing with about five different work deadlines and you still want to make art but you have no time for it and when you finally have time, nothing you write is any good.

all that and I'm supposed to have fun, too? I feel like every time I carve out the least little bit of fun for myself this october, the month I am supposed to enjoy the most, I spend the next three days paying for it.

I feel like I just. I'm at the point now where I physically cannot leave the house ten days in a row anymore. I can barely handle three days in a row. I'm not even doing anything. I'm just sitting there, but apparently the act of taking a bus to a building and sitting in that building is too much for me now.

I know I've been kind of irritating to be around for the past few weeks, but I am just exhausted. and today I'm finally clearing the joint pain, I'm finally clearing the nausea and inability to eat (which of course makes me sicker), and I'm just. I'm so fucking tired. I can't even enjoy not being in (as much) pain for a few days.

and of course trying to scrape all this together, I haven't been able to clean the house, so it looks like shit and I feel like shit about that, too.

I don't know. some days when you have an incurable illness that you know is just going to get worse over time it's just. I don't know. it's hard to have any hope at all. I feel like I'm going to die alone in a filthy house because I don't have the energy to be a real person anymore.

like I go visit my parents and I'm always so glad to get home because I love them but I also need my space but there's always that realization that like. oh right, living alone is really fucking hard. some days I can barely even feed myself. I feel so useless.

I know that withdrawing from my friends is probably the opposite of what I should be doing right now, but it's also. I don't know, sometimes I feel almost ashamed to let them see me when I can't even pretend that I have my life together. like usually I can at least pretend that my body isn't weighing me down too much. letting people see me when it's very, very clear that I am hanging on by a thread feels far too vulnerable.

I guess some piece of me feels like if I let people see the awful underbelly of what it's like to actually be disabled, they'll be disgusted with me. like. sometimes disability is just we have to walk a little more slowly at the museum or I can only eat certain foods when we go out or I get way too chatty because I'm exhausted and I lose my filter when I'm exhausted. but sometimes disability is not showering for a week and a living room that's covered in garbage and unpacked suitcases and sitting in your bed and crying for hours. like. there's nothing glamorous about it.

I feel like I have to work so hard and pretend so much to even reach "tolerable" to other people but I'm not even tolerable to myself right now. even on my best days, when I can go out and hang out with people and pretend that I'm okay, I know that I will be going home to a messy house that I will never invite people to because it's embarrassing to admit that I live like that, not because I want to, but because I have to.

but I can't even do that anymore, I can't even go out for a few hours and pretend that I'm normal and well-adjusted and not at all a burden to my friends and my family and my community.

I don't know. I don't know. I'll be okay. I always end up okay. but I feel like having a chronic illness means mourning a thousand different opportunities you had to give up because you were home puking or whatever, and right now I'm mourning a film festival.

or at least the me that could go to film festivals.

[cannot-decide-on-a-fandom]

https://www.tumblr.com/cannot-decide-on-a-fandom/754552911759114240/i-dont-think-ive-ever-seen-a-fanbase-talk-so

Your preaching to the choir on this. Especially on twitter where it happens soo much. And it’s so baffling. Like they refuse to accept people can actually learn and grow and do better. And it’s not like he never apologized. He has multiple times. And he’s proven that he’s learned from it and grown from it. And I really don’t think people like Aisha, or Angela would say the positive things they have and continue to say about him if he hadn’t. It was very clear at the time how the cast felt about what happened and in regards to him. And it’s like completely opposite vibes now. And then the way people will say they think he’s so hot and such a good actor and good dad and so brave for talking about his mental health but yet censor his name the entire time is like 💀💀💀💀💀 what are you even doing. You look goofy as hell saying R*yan. Like 💀💀😂

Honestly I try so hard to stay out of saying potentially controversial stuff about real situations (characters are a bit more...I obviously won't tag the character in negative stuff but it's fiction and all) but this has been baffling me and I'm glad some people agree. I just don't understand censoring for this reason most of the time anyway to be honest? Like I heard there was a time when people would censor Oliver's name so he wouldn't see their tweets because he apparently lurked (which is so funny, this is not an Oliver Stark appreciation post but from what I've seen I have to acknowledge that, that man is so funny) and that I get. If you try and censor a name to avoid people finding the post, okay sure.

But censoring problematic or supposedly problematic people's names has somehow morphed and become just an easy out for people who like to talk about someone who has done something wrong in their past (ie-is a human being) without needing to confront what them loving them must mean. Because it's either "I truly think this person is bad but I don't care enough to not talk about them" or acknowledging the fact that it's possible for people to have done fucked up stuff and still be good people after (which seems to be a foreign concept to some people, especially when it comes to celebrities)

If a post is about negative stuff a person did, you can censor it if you want but surely the context would give away you don't support them, and if it's positive stuff, then if you genuinely truly think "this person is a bad person" then buddy you're still fucking saying good stuff about the same person, just because there's an asterix in it doesn't mean you're not.

The only time I really get this type of censoring is if listing a group of people and you wanna make it clear that you're listing them for specificity alone. For example a group photo where one person is shitty, and you're trying to refer to that picture so you list all the people in it, and it's easier to make it clear you think someone in it is a shitty person without needing to write a separate explanation (which I would honestly never expect anyone to...ever have to but it's the internet)

Anyway, this ended up being way longer of a reply than I intended (and I've had a few drinks) but hopefully it made sense. I guess I'll just finish by saying it's bad for people using screen readers too so I sort of think the accessibility of "Hey blind people should be able to be online too" should probably trump "I want everyone to know I'm a good person by hating this guy who did something messed up 5 years ago" (or other instances of similar things)

[antigonewinchester]

14x20 au!!

thank you for the ask!! :)

They drove through dry prairies and sunken valleys and bitter yellow deserts and had reached the continent’s deep forests, green reaching up into the sky. Hours more and they would arrive at the coast and its grand blue view. Jack had never seen an ocean before, but Cas knew he would like it. He just had to see. 19 hours and 42 minutes after, Jack was asleep against his shoulder and the tension within his grace had finally eased. Yet Jack was—or he wasn’t—he hadn’t understood why they’d needed to leave when Chuck had disappeared, Sam was speaking to Dean with low, careful words, and the gun lay still gleaming in the dirt. He’d just kept staring with hollow confusion. Cas had pulled him to the car. There hadn’t been a plan, except: Keep Jack Safe. In moments they’d been speeding down dirt past graves, then pavement past Lebanon, then concrete past 16-wheelers and minivans. They’d kept driving as the sun drifted and fell slowly across the sky, painting the horizon orange-pink. Other cars had thinned out through the night, and sometimes for long minutes it was only him and Jack, heading together towards an uncertain sunrise. It was the darkness that reminded him: God wasn’t the only power in the world. Jack woke outside of Reno, rubbing his eyes in such a human way that Cas had to look away. He’d driven onto a side road of a side road, the sound of cars moving from waterfall to trickle. They needed to stay away from crowds. “Good morning, Jack.” “Where are we?” “I believe we’ve just crossed into the state of California, although we may still be in Nevada. How are you feeling?” “I’m fine.” That was Jack’s answer: he was fine. But he wasn’t fine, not after what had happened. It was a selfish question, perhaps. Jack had told him he felt empty, that he wanted to love and couldn’t, but Cas kept hoping that when he got Jack free from—he’d feel again. Something small. But there was still time. Feelings took time. It had only been 22 hours and 16 minutes since they’d left. And now Cas had a real plan.

I don't know if S14 is good, per se, but it IS a season that I love to rotate in my head (and my read of 14x20 is a bit different from the more cynical fandom takes). writing-wise, Jack's death at the end of 14x20 feels like a big narrative cop-out; it 'clears the board' for the next season, allows the writers to go back to the formula of monster of the week / the usual hunts again, but dang if they couldn't have at least shaken it up for the last season of the show. so my first thought was Chuck being nasty in not killing Jack and just leaving everybody in the graveyard: situation's fucked up, I'm gonna bounce. and then how everybody would respond from there.

another thing that I've grown more sympathetic to [not in that I like, but I can understand it] is that the writing in the later seasons wants to talk about being a good person / what "goodness" looks like... but struggles to do so. there's a frustrating / funny dissonance of the show talking abt Big Things (how to deal with losing the ppl you love, death, loss) without ever really being able to sit with that pain, which ultimately robs the show of much of its emotional depth & catharsis, imo. ANYWAY, that's a very long way of saying I wanted to look at all of that in the context of 14x20: how does Jack deal with his 'mistake' in killing Mary so everything can keep to the status quo, to make sure nobody gets mad at him, out of fear & mistrust? how does Dean deal w/ his impulse to kill Jack out of revenge, anger, responsibility & self-harm? what does it mean that Cas & Sam want to help Jack "be good" but themselves have limited frameworks, including minimizing Jack's feelings or perceptions when they're not positive enough? is being good just about avoiding the bad--or can there more to it?

been re-reading thru the Dhammapada recently [for reasons unrelated to fandom lol] and I've always been struck by Dhp IX 121-122:

"Don't underestimate evil / ('It won't amount to much'). / A water jar fills, / even with water / falling in drops. / With evil — even if / bit / by / bit, / habitually — / the fool fills himself full. Don't underestimate merit / ('It won't amount to much'). / A water jar fills, / even with water / falling in drops. / With merit — even if / bit / by / bit, / habitually — / the enlightened one fills himself full."

so it's been on my mind related to this story, even if I don't know exactly where I'm gonna go with it.

[yossipossi]

what was your main inspiration/reason to write 5001?

Well, the reason is pretty obvious: I wrote it for the SCP-5000 contest. I intended to write an article to win, but it was my third article and so it wasn't particularly great, especially in comparison to the winner, but ah well.

As for the inspiration, I had a few sources, but my main source was Evangelion. Specifically, the scene in the first rebuild where they fire the energy weapon through Ramiel's core. That was such a tense scene and was so cool, and I wanted to recreate something along those lines. Even before I conceptualized all the details about the article, I knew I wanted a scene where a laser fires something into the center of something really big.

I actually remember where I was when I came up with the basic idea for SCP-5001: I was in the middle of my prayer services before school (I'm Jewish, to be clear), and I suddenly had a flash of inspiration: the theme was mystery, so what if there was an anomaly in a containment chamber that the Foundation found, and they had no idea what was inside of it until it breached? At the time, the placeholder images in my mind for this idea were "facility that contained something akin to Gears' Proposal, and it nearly breaches at the end before somehow being recontained, without anyone actually seeing the anomaly and living." It was a cool idea, but not really what I wanted.

The inspiration from Ramiel's death in Evangelion comes into play now, since I realized I didn't just want to anomaly to be never seen, but also be really fucking big. I knew that whatever was in this facility needed to be powerful and ancient, and I knew the Foundation needed to barely be able to recontain it through some last-minute ditch efforts using the most powerful weapons available to them. This is how I came up with the idea for HECOR (the High-Energy Concentration Orbital Railgun), and how I conceptualized the climax of the article.

As for what was actually inside the facility, I still had no idea. In fact, I didn't even come up with the Broken God connection until I was a ways into the article. I just had the basic idea and started writing. I did a bit of research into strong materials and came up with a general design for it, and decided where to put it. I chose the Russian wilderness at the time because it was unlikely to cause of Veil breach if big shit happened there, but it kinda made sense later for the Broken God connection.

Still, the article mostly shaped into its current form as I was writing it. A big part of my philosophy for writing SCPs specifically is using the format to my advantage by trying to make the document as clinical as possible. I included a history section for realism and to provide additional context for the circumstances of the object's history, and talked about all the technological discoveries due to SCP-5001 to help add some gravitas to the anomaly's function.

I think it was while writing the section on "OMEGA" that I finally realized this would be a perfect Broken God article. Not only that, but I realized it would be really interesting if I made SCP-5001 the heart of the Broken God that was missing from Kaktus's second SCP-001 Proposal. That's the idea I was working with as I went into the final section of the article.

I actually remember when I wrote that. I think I had a short break from high school, so I stayed up all night writing the final addendum in a fervor. I was listening to this cover of "In My Spirit" the entire time (like, six hours total), which also meant that the beginning of the Zuriel fight from the Evangelion rebuilds played a role in shaping the way the incident log escalated. (I highly recommend reading the incident log with the song playing in the background, btw!)

As for the ending... well, I'm kinda shit at writing endings. Anyone whose read my articles can tell you that it's usually the weakest part of my writing. If I wrote the ending of the article now I'd be a bit subtler, but I wanted to essentially show that SCP-5001 was the missing heart of the Broken God. I just wasn't very good at conveying that.

After I finished the article, I started getting critique, and while it was mostly positive, I did get some feedback that wasn't so encouraging. Still, it helped me refine the article quite a bit, and even if SCP-5001 was far from perfect, it's better than if I didn't get feedback at all. I remember getting some critique in the middle of our school's yearly ski trip lol

After I posted it, I remember being amazed at how fast its rating was growing, and for a few days I was actually in first place! Of course, Tanhony's "Why?" eventually overtook me, but I'll never forget the excitement of actually getting first place with my third article on the site for a while. I'm still quite happy with getting third place, though, and getting the SCP-5001 slot. :)